By now, news of Karna defeating Narakasura had already spread through many kingdoms of Aryavarta like wildfire carried by the wind.
Stories exaggerated with each retelling traveled from merchants to travelers, from soldiers to wandering sages.
Some called Karna the destroyer of Asuras. Others claimed he possessed the direct protection of Surya himself.
So when Karna and Ratnaprabha arrived at Matsya, King Virata personally arranged a grand welcome for them.
The city streets had been decorated with banners while conches echoed through the palace entrance as flower petals rained down from the balconies above. The people gathered in large numbers just to witness the famed King of Dakshina Kalinga and his mysterious Naga queen.
Ratnaprabha, who once feared human crowds, instinctively moved closer beside Karna at first.
But unlike earlier…
This time, she did not hide completely.
Their stay at Matsya turned surprisingly smooth and peaceful.
Unlike the cautious politics of Hastinapura or the careful calculations of Dvarika, Matsya possessed a simpler warmth. King Virata himself enjoyed straightforward dealings, and perhaps because of that, the negotiations progressed rapidly.
By the third day itself, the trade agreement was finalized.
In exchange for 40 war elephants and 100 trained adult elephants, Matsya agreed to provide 76000 cattle in total, including 50000 cows, 6000 bulls, and 20000 oxen.
Some ministers were surprised that Karna specifically requested such large numbers of oxen.
After all, bulls and cows held greater value.
But Karna understood something many kings ignored.
"A kingdom survives through farming before warfare," he calmly explained once during a discussion. "A sword may protect a nation for a season, but food protects it for generations. If the roots are healthy, the tree survives every storm."
What Karna needed was to improve the farming, lessening the farmers' burden, and for that, he needed more oxen. He intended to gift one ox to every farming family on the day of Makara Sankranti.
As for the cows, on Sumedha's advice, he does what he has been doing so far: gives one to either brahmins or loans them to normal people's families for just one silver coin a month. It wasn't exactly a scheme to earn money or something. It was more like a token fee that Karna put on the loaned cows so that the ones who received them would feel like they weren't getting it for free and take care of them, too.
And to make sure his generosity is not taken advantage of by the greedy people, a law was passed nearly two years ago that these loaned cows from the royal palace cannot be used for business. the milk, ghee, or dung, whatever is produced from the cow, can only be used by the family and not be sold for money, and is considered a crime, which could even result in exile.
Of course, some people still do it, but when the punishment was imposed, people either returned those cows to the royal palace or made sure to follow the laws.
This only resulted in Karna's rise in fame in the hearts of people. Seeing him, Uttara Kalinga, Mathura, and Kashi also followed in his footsteps, passing this leased scheme in their kingdoms too.
*
Back to the present;
The weeks that followed passed peacefully in the Matsya Kingdom.
While Matsya gathered the enormous numbers of cattle required for the trade, Karna and Ratnaprabha spent time within the capital itself.
And slowly…
The Naga princess blossomed further.
She still spoke softly, but now conversations no longer frightened her. She began asking merchants questions while visiting markets. Sometimes she curiously touched fabrics made by human craftsmen or watched dancers performing in the city squares with fascination visible in her serpent-like eyes.
She and Karna walked through the temple streets together.
They purchased ornaments.
Exchanged quiet conversations beneath evening skies.
And for the first time since leaving her underwater kingdom, Ratnaprabha slowly began feeling that perhaps this human world would not reject her completely after all.
Three weeks passed.
By then, Matsya had finally gathered the promised cattle.
Thousands upon thousands of animals now filled the outer fields beyond the capital like moving oceans of white, brown, and black beneath the sunlight. The sounds of mooing cattle echoed endlessly through the plains while soldiers and workers struggled day and night organizing the massive herds properly.
A few days before departure, Karna also received another important message.
A letter from Hastinapura.
The Gandhar war horses had finally arrived.
*
The day of departure from the Matsya Kingdom finally arrived.
From early dawn itself, the outer plains of the Matsya capital had become filled with movement and noise.
Thousands of cattle stretched across the grasslands like a moving river of horns, tails, dust, and restless breathing.
The deep sounds of oxen mixed together with the sharp whistles of herders while soldiers moved back and forth trying to organize the massive columns properly before departure.
The entire scene resembled a migrating nation more than a trade convoy.
The smell of damp earth, animal hide, hay, leather reins, and sweat filled the surroundings heavily.
Since Matsya and Kuru remained allied kingdoms, King Virata had personally decided that both armies should travel together toward Kashi after the exchange. So, the plan is to travel from Matsya to Kuru via land, stop at Kuru, and together with them, they will transport them through boats in periodic timings, to Kashi.
At Kashi, they will exchange the elephants. While Matsya and Kuru soldiers jointly escorted the elephants back to Hastinapur, and then Matsya soldiers will split with their share of elephants, bringing them to Matsya, Karna will take care of his massive herd through his own means to Dakshina Kalinga. How he does, what he does... King Virata doesn't care.
That was what he had in mind.
Near the outer gates of the capital, Karna stood beside his divine chariot while Ratnaprabha remained nearby, silently observing the preparations. Compared to her earlier timid self, she now appeared calmer amidst human crowds, though every now and then her violet serpent-eyes still narrowed cautiously whenever cattle moos.
The wind blew softly across the open fields.
Large banners of Matsya fluttered above the fort walls.
King Virata himself stepped forward to send them off personally.
"Maharaj Karna," he said warmly, "it is rare to meet a king who thinks about farming and cattle with the same seriousness others reserve only for armies and weapons. Most rulers only notice the fruit hanging from the branches, but you are someone who waters the roots beneath the soil."
Karna smiled faintly.
"As I always say, to protect a kingdom, you need an army, but to run a kingdom, you need food and money," he replied calmly. "When people are fed, they themselves become the walls protecting the nation."
Virata laughed heartily at that.
"Well spoken."
The soldiers nearby also nodded subtly in agreement.
However, just when everyone expected the departure to begin…
Karna suddenly did something unexpected.
Instead of stepping onto the chariot immediately, he slowly turned toward the eastern horizon where the morning sunlight was beginning to spread fully across the sky. Then, before the eyes of thousands of soldiers, elephant handlers, ministers, and herders…
Karna closed his eyes.
The winds around him gradually slowed.
Even Ratnaprabha looked at him with confusion.
Karna joined his palms together respectfully and began praying softly.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Yet the atmosphere itself slowly changed around him.
"Mother," he murmured inwardly. "I seek your help."
The golden earrings beside his face glowed faintly beneath the sunlight.
A strange stillness spread through the plains.
At first, nobody understood what was happening.
Then suddenly…
The sky darkened slightly as his mother answered.
Soldiers instinctively looked upward.
Far above the kingdom walls, enormous clouds had begun gathering unnaturally fast. But these were not ordinary rain clouds. They carried a faint golden radiance inside them, as though sunlight itself had become trapped within mist.
The cloud mass descended lower.
And lower.
And lower still.
Gasps erupted everywhere.
The cattle became restless, letting out low rumbling sounds while moving around nervously.
The cloud continued descending until it finally stopped outside the eastern gates of Matsya.
Its size was monstrous.
Two to three kilometers long at least.
Nearly another two kilometers wide.
It floated only a short distance above the ground now, like a moving island from the heavens.
King Virata stared upward in complete disbelief.
Many soldiers unconsciously stepped backward.
Some villagers immediately folded their hands and began chanting prayers in fear and reverence.
Ratnaprabha's violet eyes widened slightly as she looked between the cloud and Karna.
"Maharaj…" one Matsya general whispered shakily, "what… what is this?"