The golden divine chariot hovered above the royal palace of Hastinapura, its light cutting through the dark sky.
The entire city below stood frozen—fear, confusion, and disbelief holding everyone still. In that blazing light, Karna looked less like a mortal king and more like something descended to deliver judgment.
His eyes burned with a sharp golden radiance. They locked onto Shakuni and did not move.
When he spoke, his voice carried across the courtyard with a weight that pressed against every chest present.
"Gandhar Raj Shakuni… you conspired against the Pandu princes and Queen Kunti."
The courtyard fell utterly silent. Even the wind seemed to quiet.
Karna brought the chariot lower until it hovered just above the courtyard, close enough for every face to see the fury on his.
"You built a palace not of brick and stone, but of flammable lac. A palace meant to burn within minutes. You ordered your man Purochana to set it ablaze while they slept."
His gaze stayed fixed on Shakuni like a spear.
"Do you deny this sin?"
No one moved. Not a single guard adjusted his grip on a weapon.
Shakuni's face drained of color. The usual manipulative smile was gone. For the first time since Karna had known him, the Gandhar king looked genuinely afraid.
Beside him, Duryodhana stiffened. Shock, alarm, then fear moved rapidly across his features.
Bhishma looked as though the ground had opened beneath him. His hands slowly curled into fists. His breathing deepened. For a brief moment, genuine horror crossed the old warrior's face.
"Karna…" His voice came out slower than usual. "What are you saying? The Pandavas… were murdered?"
The pain in those words was real enough that even Karna's anger flickered for an instant. But his voice remained steady.
"I speak the truth, Mahamahim. Mahadev Himself blessed me with divine vision—the power to witness the origin of adharmic acts. And I saw everything."
He turned his eyes back to Shakuni.
"I saw your hawk carrying the secret message to Varnavata. I saw Purochana receive your order. I saw him pour the oil. I saw him light the fire. And I saw the walls melting because the residence was never built of ordinary materials. It was made of lac."
Ministers looked horrified. Guards exchanged frightened glances. Even Vidura's calm face had gone pale.
Then Karna shifted his gaze to Duryodhana. The prince's heartbeat quickened under that look.
"And you, Prince Duryodhana. You ordered the construction of that palace, did you not?"
Duryodhana's throat tightened. For a moment, Karna stared into his eyes as if trying to see through him.
"Tell me. Are you also involved in this conspiracy?"
Duryodhana's face froze. His lips parted, but no answer came at once. That hesitation made the air even heavier.
Before anyone else could speak, Shakuni stepped forward hurriedly. He forced a laugh that sounded wrong—too quick, too strained.
"This is madness! You are grieving for the Pandavas and have completely lost your mind!" He pointed upward, his hand shaking. "How dare you throw such baseless accusations at me?"
Karna's expression darkened further.
Slowly, he raised his right hand.
The air changed.
A deep humming vibration spread across the courtyard. Golden particles of divine energy gathered around his arm, thickening and taking form.
The Vijaya Dhanush materialized in his grasp.
The divine bow radiated a brilliance so fierce that several nearby guards stepped back, shielding their eyes. Torches flickered violently. Even seasoned warriors felt cold sweat on their skin.
Karna's voice came low and dangerously calm.
"When my Gurudev, Lord Parashurama, bestowed this bow upon me, I took an oath. That when I see adharma, I wouldn't see any friendship. I wouldn't see any kin. And I would not hesitate to use it against someone who commits adharma. And now, this bow has become a part of me. The arrow is the will of my desire to give justice."
His fingers drew the string back.
The sound cracked across the courtyard like thunder rolling through metal. A glowing arrow of pure divine energy formed on the string, humming with destructive force.
It carried no divyastra of any deva.
However, combined with carrying the essence of Lord Brahma himself, the divine energy emitted by the arrow was no less than any powerful divyastra.
Shakuni's eyes widened in pure terror. All pretense vanished. He stumbled backward and clutched Duryodhana's arm tightly.
"Mahamahim! Karna has gone mad! He is attacking Hastinapura! Stop him before he kills us all!"
Panic spread through the crowd. Soldiers raised shields. Ministers stepped back. Some attendants nearly collapsed.
Then Bhishma stepped forward.
The old warrior's face looked carved from stone. He summoned his own bow, though notably he did not raise it toward Karna. His dark hair moved in the wind as his eyes stayed fixed on the figure above.
"Karna. Lower your bow."
Karna did not move. The divine arrow still glowed on Vijaya Dhanush.
"Mahamahim, those who stand with adharma cannot detach themselves from adharma either. Move aside from my path."
Bhishma took another step.
"I understand your anger. The Pandavas were my own blood." Pain flickered briefly in his eyes. "If Shakuni has truly committed such a sin, I myself will deliver the punishment with my own hands. But I will not allow you to kill him here tonight without proper investigation."
His tone grew colder, more commanding.
"The duty of punishment within Hastinapura belongs first to its throne and its elders. You are also a king. You should understand this."
He looked directly at Karna.
"If every warrior begins acting as judge and executioner based only on personal certainty, kingdoms will become forests where only strength decides justice. A fire cannot be extinguished by another fire, Karna. When forests burn in summer, wise men do not throw more flames into them. They create boundaries and contain the destruction before the entire land turns to ash."
His eyes sharpened.
"So, consider this a request from someone who is like your grandsire or a command from your senior disciple who trained under the same master. We shall investigate this matter immediately. And if Shakuni is guilty…" Bhishma's voice carried absolute authority across the courtyard. "Then I swear upon the honor of Guru Parashurama that he shall face consequences according to dharma itself."
Karna's hand trembled slightly on the bowstring—not from fear, but from the effort of holding back.
The fury inside him had risen so high that controlling it now cost him visible strength.
Golden light flickered unevenly around his body. His eyes stayed fixed on Shakuni with a hatred that made the Gandhar king feel as though death itself had already reached for him.
For several long moments, no one moved.
No one dared breathe loudly. It truly seemed Karna might release the arrow at any second. Everyone present understood the same truth: if that arrow left the string, nothing in the courtyard would remain the same.
Then Duryodhana stepped forward—directly in front of Shakuni.
The movement startled several ministers. Duryodhana's face was pale beneath the torchlight, yet he forced himself to stand firmly against the pressure radiating from the bow.
"Karna..." His voice was strained, but not weak. "You are mistaken." He glanced briefly toward Shakuni. "Uncle Shakuni is innocent. Soon, you will tie a knot to my sister and become our family. Do you wish to spill blood because of misunderstandings?"
Karna stared at him in silence. The bow remained drawn. The divine arrow still crackled with power. In his eyes, pain and rage moved together—pain for the supposed deaths, rage for the betrayal, pain for Kunti, rage at adharma.
For a moment, Bhishma genuinely believed Karna would ignore them all and release the arrow. He was ready to counter with another divyastra. Even Vidura's hands tightened inside his robes.
Then, slowly, Karna exhaled.