University Training Ground
After being challenged by the temple practitioner, Rajkumar Garuda accepted without hesitation, and the group soon moved to a larger training ground nearby. Ashwini and Wong offered to assist him, but Garuda refused. The reason he gave was simple. "They insulted my brother, so let them have it." There was enough confidence in the way he said it that neither thought it worth arguing further.
It took only a short while for word of the challenge to spread, and before the two sides were ready a small crowd had already gathered around the training ground. Guru Srujan remained with Ashwini and Wong, partly out of curiosity and partly in case either side needed assistance, while the rest of the spectators kept to the edges of the field. Once the four temple practitioners and Garuda had taken their positions, Srujan walked toward the centre and tapped the end of his staff against the ground. A pulse of mana spread outward from the point of contact, passing through both sides and serving as his signal that the spar could begin. He then quickly moved back toward the edge of the field, giving the fighters enough room to act without worrying about striking their referee.
The temple group made the first move. Two of the three men stomped their feet almost simultaneously, sending a large mass of earth tearing free from the ground and rising into the air between them. The woman beside them immediately began gathering wind around herself, and as the two men struck the suspended earth with their mana, the mass shattered into dozens of smaller pieces. A strong gust then swept forward from the woman, carrying the newly formed stones toward Garuda while the two men moved along either side of the attack. As they advanced, they began drawing fire from the lamps positioned at intervals along the edge of the field. The lamps stood on top of a water-filled moat that ran around the training ground, allowing the two men to gather flames for their next attack even as the first one was still in motion.
Garuda did not retreat.
Instead, he released his mana around himself, forming a spherical Mana Zone with a radius of roughly two meters, and reinforced his body within it. He lunged forward through the incoming attack, mana already gathering in both hands as he closed the distance. When he was around five meters from the first wave of stones, he brought both hands up before driving them sharply downward in a motion similar to throwing a ball. A burst of wind erupted beneath him, launching his body into the air just as the stones reached his position. They passed beneath him at dangerous speed before crashing into the ground behind him, throwing up a thick cloud of dust.
Garuda's movement had carried him directly into the next stage of the temple group's attack. The two men who had launched the earth had by then finished gathering fire, shaping the flames into a broad half-ring around themselves. The moment Garuda became airborne, they released it, sending the fire upward toward him from below.
Garuda sensed the attack just in time. He twisted his body in midair, rolling backward before turning himself around and redirecting the incoming flames with a burst of wind, sending them back toward the direction from which they had come. He avoided the worst of the attack and descended toward the ground, only to realize that the temple group had already prepared their next move.
Several narrow spikes of water stood waiting below him.
At first, they appeared almost harmless. The water was motionless, and Garuda judged that he could deal with them easily enough. Then the spikes began to rotate.
Their tips twisted as the water accelerated toward him, transforming what had looked like stationary constructs into spinning projectiles. Garuda immediately regretted sending the fire back toward the two men, but there was no time to dwell on the mistake. The first of the water spikes entered his Mana Zone, and he thrust a stream of wind against it, disrupting its movement before seizing control of the water itself. Rather than attempting to destroy every projectile individually, he pulled the water toward himself and wrapped it around his body, creating a thin layer that clung closely to his skin and formed a barrier against the remaining attacks.
The exchange lasted only moments, but by then the two men had already begun falling back toward the woman while the remaining male practitioner moved in to meet Garuda at close range. Garuda slipped past the last of the water spikes with little more than several shallow wounds, but the moment his feet touched the ground, he sensed the man rushing toward him.
There was barely a foot between them when Garuda managed to bring up another barrier of water.
It absorbed the first impact, but only partially.
Before he could recover, the other two men had closed in from the opposite side, cutting off his room to manoeuvre while the woman remained farther back, gathering mana for whatever attack she intended to unleash next. Garuda recognized immediately that trying to retreat would only allow them to regain control of the battlefield, so instead he prepared himself for close-quarters combat and adjusted his Mana Zone.
The spherical field around him contracted and spread outward at the same time, becoming flatter and denser rather than remaining thick and even in every direction. Most of its density stayed concentrated closest to his body, while the outer portion extended farther around him. It was a subtle change, but enough to sharpen his awareness of everything entering and leaving the field.
The three men pressed him together.
Garuda responded by turning every attack aside rather than meeting it head-on. He deflected one strike, shifted around another, and whenever an opening appeared, forced one of them backward just far enough to create space before the next attack arrived. To the temple practitioners, it was unsettling. All four of them were coordinating their Mana Zones, the three at the front maintaining a dense field around themselves while the fourth continuously supported and amplified it from behind, yet Garuda moved as though he could sense every attack a moment before it came.
For Garuda, however, the situation felt almost comfortable.
His brother's training had prepared him for far worse. He no longer had to worry about the earth beneath him suddenly surging upward and locking his movements in place, nor did he have to account for an opponent treating the air itself as a surface they could stand upon or use to change direction. He didn't have to worry about his senses being deliberately disrupted, nor did he have to constantly watch for something invisible approaching from an angle he could not see.
In short, compared to what he had grown accustomed to during his training, this felt almost ordinary. It was still a serious spar, and the four practitioners were certainly capable, but to Garuda it felt less like a life-or-death battle and more like another day of training he did with the Royal Guards.
After roughly half a minute, the three practitioners finally disengaged and spread themselves around him, carefully maintaining their positions so that Garuda remained surrounded.
"Rajkumar," one of them called, breathing a little harder now, "did the Yuvraj teach you anything besides defence?"
The attempt at provocation worked.
Garuda's expression tightened, and he allowed more of his mana to escape. The pressure made several of the practitioners' flinch, but they managed to hold their ground.
Then Garuda's attention shifted to the woman.
Of the four, she possessed the greatest amount of mana and the finest control over it, and whatever she was preparing had been building throughout the fight. Garuda decided immediately that she was the greatest threat.
Without warning, he launched himself toward her.
She barely had any time to react as the Rajkumar used the wind to accelerate him while also using the earth as a piston to push him.
All she could hope was to try and deflect whatever came at her… and she failed at that as well.
Garuda struck her twice once in the chest and once in the abdomen, and as the second hit landed, she lost her balance crashing down as pain grippe her body.
Garuda immediately turned toward the practitioner who had first engaged him at close quarters and charged. He attempted to repeat the same manoeuvre, but this time the man managed to deflect the attack and retreat, quickly rejoining the others as they closed ranks around their injured companion.
The woman had fallen to the ground and was struggling to recover, one hand pressed against her abdomen as the remaining three moved together around her.
"You, okay?" one of the men asked.
"I don't know." She coughed and doubled over, her body still writhing in pain. "It feels like he ripped my soul out of my body. It hurts like hell."
"Did he overload your circuit that badly?" another asked almost immediately.
She coughed harder this time, covering her mouth before forcing herself to answer.
"I don't know what he did!" she managed. "I can't even sense my mana anymore, let alone use it."
The others fell silent after that. There was little point in asking more when she clearly didn't have an answer herself. One of the men wiped away the sweat that had gathered along his brow as they settled into a defensive formation around her.
What had happened to her was not entirely unheard of.
A practitioner with a sufficiently large mana reserve and precise control could, under the right circumstances, force their own mana into an opponent's mana circuit. Normally, a person's circuit would spend part of its capacity refining and processing foreign mana, attempting to make it compatible with the mana already flowing through their body. If enough outside mana was introduced at once, that process could overwhelm the circuit and leave the defender struggling to control even their own mana.
It was a dangerous technique rather than an automatic victory. The practitioner attempting it had to get close enough to introduce the foreign mana in the first place, while having no ability to use mana offensively themselves, leaving themselves vulnerable while doing so.
More importantly, if the attacker does not use a certain amount of mana in comparison to the defender's mana well, the effect could be greatly reduced. Even when successful, the defender was not necessarily helpless. Their ability to manipulate mana would become far more difficult, often forcing them to fall back on physical combat if the two fighters were already within striking distance, but sensing mana in and around their body generally remained possible.
Garuda did not advance.
Instead, he began gathering mana, preparing to end the fight from a distance.
Then—
"What do you think you are doing?"
The voice came from above.
At the same instant, a dense Mana Zone descended over the training ground and spread beyond it, covering the entire field and reaching into the surrounding structures. Every movement stopped. For a brief moment, it seemed as though the entire world had simply forgotten the existence of time.
Except for Guru Srujan, Ashwini, and Rajkumar Garuda, no one present immediately recognized whose presence it was.
But, no one else seemed eager to find out. The moment that pressure descended upon them, their bodies reacted before their minds could even understand what was happening. Chests tightened, breaths became shallow, and a cold sense of dread settled over them as though they had suddenly found themselves standing at the edge of death.
Yet no one ran.
The terror that had seized them should have driven them backward, yet their bodies remained where they were. Their minds screamed at them to flee, to put distance between themselves and whatever had suddenly entered the field, but their limbs refused to answer. At the same time, there was no urge to fight. The usual instincts that gave shape to fear—run, hide, resist—had simply stopped making sense. Instead, beneath the panic, something else began to settle over them.
A strange calm.
It was not relief, nor was it the absence of fear. The fear remained, but beneath it came the almost comforting certainty that they did not need to do anything. There was no decision to make, no action that mattered, no desperate calculation of how to survive. Their bodies seemed to have reached the answer before their minds could: stay where you are. Do not move. Do not resist.
For those trapped in that moment, the calm was almost a mercy. Their minds clung to it because the alternative was to acknowledge the terror screaming somewhere beneath it. It was easier to remain still than to accept what that fear was telling them.
Then, almost as one, their eyes began to rise.
And that was when they finally saw him.
Yuvraj Hamsa hovered high above the training ground, close to where his younger brother stood. He was the source of it—the overwhelming presence that had filled the entire field only moments ago. Hamsa looked down upon the ruined training ground, his expression carrying nothing but disappointment.
After a few seconds, he descended and landed on the ground. As he looked toward his younger brother, he let out a quiet sigh, and his mana gradually began to settle, returning to its usual suppressed state. His gaze then moved across the ruined ground before settling on the group he recognized as the ones who had been sparring with Garuda.
He noticed the woman lying on the ground and immediately approached the group. The other three instinctively moved to stand in his way, but the memory of what had happened only moments earlier made them hesitate. One by one, they stepped aside.
Hamsa knelt beside the woman, and his eyes suddenly took on a faint white glow as he blinked. He then raised one hand and held it above her.
The three practitioners shifted uneasily and began to move, but Guru Srujan stepped closer and stopped them with a gesture.
For several seconds, Hamsa remained completely still. A large amount of mana gathered around his hand, flowing downward and enveloping the injured woman. Gradually, the tension in her body disappeared. Her breathing steadied, and her expression relaxed before she finally went limp.
One of the men caught her before she could fall completely.
Hamsa rose to his feet.
"She should be fine. But if anything develops that cannot be handled here, notify me."
With that, he walked past Srujan.
"Did he do what I think he did?" Guru Srujan asked.
Hamsa stopped.
He turned his head slightly toward the old Guru.
"Yes. He did what you think he did." His voice remained calm, though there was an unmistakable warning beneath it. "And I hope your lips are sealed on the matter."
Srujan said nothing.
Having already experienced Hamsa's Mana Zone, he understood the difference between a casual statement and a warning from the young Yuvraj. Rather than answer, he turned toward the injured woman and went to check on her.
Hamsa did not seem bothered by his reaction. In truth, this was something he had gone numb to.
So he simply walked over to Garuda and held out his hand.
"Hand them over."
Garuda did not object. He immediately began removing the mana-crystal ends of the earrings he was wearing, leaving only the ornamental portions behind.
While he did so, Srujan crouched beside the injured woman.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked.
"Guru ji." She slowly sat up with the assistance of one of her companions. "Much better than a few moments ago. I don't know what the Yuvraj did, but I don't feel even the slightest bit of physical pain anymore." She hesitated before pinching her own hand. "Actually... I cannot feel much of anything."
Srujan frowned slightly.
"For the time being, you are barred from deployment. I will speak with Guru Abhishek. You and your team will rest until further notice."
The group nodded and began making their way away from the training ground.
Srujan watched them for a moment before turning back toward the two brothers. He had several questions for the Yuvraj, particularly after what he had just witnessed.
Unfortunately, before he could reach them, he stopped mid step feeling as if the Yuvraj was looking at him. And after Guru Srujan took another step, once he was composed.
Hamsa promptly slapped Garuda on the back of the head.
Rajkumar Garuda barely had time to react before Hamsa seized him and the two brothers shot upward, disappearing into the air before Srujan could say another word.
Srujan stared after them as the pair disappeared even before they hit the clouds.
"You seem more alarmed than usual."
A voice came from his side.
Another old man approached, dressed in the same saffron attire as Srujan. Though unlike Guru Srujan's long staff, however, he carried a much shorter one, its upper end shaped almost like a handrest.
"Well, you saw what happened, did you not?" Guru Srujan replied.
"Yes." The old man glanced toward the ruined training ground. "And if this is what he is capable of, we must be prepared for anything."
The man's name was Guru Abhishek, another Guru of the university and the man responsible for the deployment and management of temple forces for the region covering most of the Kingdom of Valangar and border provinces of the two Empires bordering it.
"What do you think we can do against him?" Guru Srujan asked.
Guru Abhishek was silent for a moment.
"We might not be able to do anything against the older one," he finally said. "Even if we were to ambush him with our forces all at once, I highly doubt we could bring him down without losing most of our ranks."
Guru Srujan glanced toward the direction in which Hamsa had disappeared before he spoke.
"Besides, have you forgotten what Ram said?"
Guru Abhishek gave him a tired look.
"You put far too much stock in what your own student says. It is unhealthy."
--------
In the Skies Above Takshashila
Both royal brothers were flying high above Takshashila, though in truth it was Hamsa who was doing the flying while Garuda simply allowed his body to be carried along by the currents of mana and air surrounding them. Below, the city slowly passed beneath their feet as they made their way back toward the palace.
"Forgive me," Garuda said quietly.
"For what?" Hamsa replied. "There is a time and place for everything. You cannot go around fatally wounding people simply because you feel they have insulted you. And how many times do I have to tell you? Stop underestimating your opponents just because they are not me or some supernatural being. One day you will get yourself killed." Hamsa continued without pause, his voice becoming increasingly stern. "What do you think will happen around you then? You think I can show my face back home if you die out here under my care?"
"I did not ask forgiveness for my actions," Garuda finally said once Hamsa had finished. "I understand that they were reckless, and I am at fault. I am sorry for the fact that you had to show that side of yourself."
Hamsa stopped in midair, roughly three-quarters of the way back to the palace. For a moment, he simply stared at his younger brother.
"Why are you worrying over something so stupid?"
Garuda, who had been looking down toward the city below, immediately lifted his head.
"Stupid? You will be feared here just as you are in the capital. How can—"
"Does it matter?" Hamsa interrupted.
His expression became strangely blank.
"Even you fear me, don't you?" he asked. "Perhaps not enough to run from me, but somewhere deep down there is a part of you that looks at me and thinks I am a force of nature rather than a person. That you need to be careful around me."
Garuda opened his mouth to object, but no words came.
Because, deep down, he knew there was some truth to it.
He admired his brother more than almost anyone in the world. He trusted him. He loved him.
But even after spending his entire life around his brother, he could not deny that there was also a part of him that feared what Hamsa was capable of.
And he hated himself for it.
Hamsa stared at Garuda for a few moments before realizing that perhaps he had gone a little too far.
He sighed.
Then his expression softened slightly.
"Hey, look at the bright side," he said, his tone becoming lighter. "Even with all that, you're still the only idiot in the world who purposely gets on my nerves."
Garuda stared at him for a moment.
Then, despite himself, the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
-------
Months Later
Capital: Vala
Royal Palace — Evening
Things in the capital were proceeding normally—or at least as normally as they ever had. In truth, Vala was functioning more smoothly than it had at any point in its history.
Economically, it still stood a step below the great southern cities and ports, whose wealth was driven by trade and access to distant markets. Yet when it came to the standard of living within the city itself, Vala had become one of the most comfortable places in the kingdom. Hygiene was maintained from individual households to the city councils, while law and order had improved considerably under the independent organization operating from the palace to maintain civil order.
Food and water were reliable, civil matters were handled with far less difficulty than before, and the improvements to the city had driven the local real-estate market to heights few had anticipated. Land that had once been considered ordinary was suddenly worth considerably more simply because of the neighborhood in which it stood.
Yet prosperity had not made the city free of inconvenience.
If anything, the opposite was true.
Permits had to be obtained, regulations had to be followed, and even the wealthiest men and women in the kingdom were expected to abide by the same procedures as everyone else. Things could be slower than some merchants would have liked, but they were increasingly predictable, and for many that was an improvement in itself.
As a result, Vala was bustling with more activity than it had seen in generations. New buildings rose alongside older ones, merchants moved through the markets, craftsmen found themselves with more work than they had once expected, and people from across the kingdom continued to arrive in search of opportunity.
The royal district was no different, though it was considerably quieter than the rest of the city.
The Yuvraj had moved north to Takshashila, and with him had gone the constant activity that seemed to follow wherever he worked.
"The palace is much quieter without the boys around," Indra said as he entered the main bedchamber.
Mahadevi Bhadra, the pregnant Mahadevi, was resting upon the bed.
"You miss them that much?" Bhadra asked with a laugh.
"Not that much. But how are you?" Indra replied as he sat beside her.
"I am more than fine, and the baby is as well. Though it kicks around a lot more now." Bhadra smiled, placing a hand over her enlarged belly.
Indra leaned closer and rested his ear against it.
"What did they say?" he asked.
"They say it might be a girl."
With that, some time passed. Indra eventually lay down beside his wife while she rested and continued reading, the quiet of the evening settling over the chamber.
After a while, Indra spoke again.
"Envoys from the Parthian court came today. They expressed their gratitude for the aid we have provided thus far, as well as their appreciation regarding the marriage and the arrangements surrounding it."
"And what did they ask for?" Bhadra asked, without taking her eyes off the birch tablet she held.
"More gold and men," Indra replied.
"Men? Have we not already sent a considerable contingent north? Four thousand Royal Guards and more than fifteen thousand soldiers."
"We have. But they are not asking for a specific number of additional troops. They want assistance in securing their western borders as well. It seems there is a powerful state farther west that has been steadily increasing its influence."
"So they wish to renegotiate the terms of the treaty."
"That is what it seems like."
Bhadra finally looked up at him.
"We can spare more gold, thanks to Hamsa's expansion of trade in the north. That new mass production of steel, along with the improvements he has introduced in agriculture and elsewhere, is already beginning to show its worth. But I do not think we can afford to send anything more than an expeditionary force. Committing another army so far from home would be too great a risk, especially with the movements along our own borders."
"I know." Indra sighed. "I am not certain what we should do. We could send them more gold and maintain the alliance until Hamsa and Shirin are married. After that, we will be in a much stronger position to negotiate any further requests for assistance."
Bhadra considered this for a moment before nodding.
"That may be our best course for now."
Silence fell as both pondered the alliance with the Parthians.
Thus far, it was Valangar that had provided the greater share of the assistance. An elite detachment had already been sent north, accompanied by a much larger contingent of soldiers to reinforce the northern steppe border. Alongside the troops, a considerable amount of gold had been provided—wealth that, had it remained within the Kingdom, could have been used to raise more soldiers, improve infrastructure, or fund any number of other projects.
Instead, it was being sent to the Parthians as part of the alliance they had formed years ago, an alliance that had been established alongside the marriage arrangement between Yuvraj Hamsa and First Rajkumari of the Parthains Shirin.
Then, moments later—
"Let us leave the matter of the alliance to Hamsa."
The words left their mouths at the same time.
For a moment, neither spoke.
They turned to look at one another, and the absurdity of it slowly settled in. Indra was the first to laugh, Bhadra soon joining him, both shaking their heads at the thought.
Yet the laughter did not last.
Silence returned to the chamber, but this time neither of them was considering the Parthians, the treasury, or the armies. They were simply looking at one another, both having come to the same uncomfortable realization.
Their first instinct had been to leave the matter to their son.
Then, moments later—
"Let us leave the matter of the alliance to Hamsa."
The words left their mouths at the same time.
For a moment, neither spoke.
They turned to look at one another, and the absurdity of it slowly settled in. Indra was the first to laugh, Bhadra soon joining him, both shaking their heads at the thought.
Yet the laughter did not last.
Silence returned to the chamber, but this time neither of them was thinking about the Parthians, the treasury, or the armies.
Their first instinct had been to leave the matter to their son.
Hamsa.
Their thirteen-year-old son.
Indra's smile faded as he looked toward Bhadra, and she lowered her gaze, a faint sadness settling over her expression.
Of course, they had confidence in their son's abilities. They had seen enough of what he was capable of, even if only on a relatively small scale. He had transformed Vala and its surrounding region into one of the most desirable places in the Kingdom to live in terms of quality of life. He had brought the major guilds to the same table and actually managed to get them to sit together—something even the Chakravartins of the Surya Empire in their time might not have accomplished without spending a fortune merely to bring them together.
And that gathering was only now beginning to reach its conclusion. Neither of them yet knew what would come of it, what agreements might be reached, or what consequences Hamsa's efforts might eventually produce.
But they knew their son.
Whatever came from it would likely be something neither of them would have thought of themselves.
That had become increasingly apparent in other matters as well.
Hamsa had managed to maintain a neutral posture toward the factions that supported his eventual ascension to the throne, rather than seeking their favour. At first, there had been little reason for those factions to do anything more than acknowledge him. Money and promises of future favour could earn a man's cooperation, but they could not easily earn his confidence.
Yet months had now passed since Hamsa had left for the north, and the reports coming back to the capital had been increasingly favourable. Takshashila was changing, the administration was becoming more efficient, trade was beginning to respond to his policies, and new projects were already underway.
As those results became visible, something else began to change.
People had started seeking Hamsa out.
Those who had once waited for his coronation before deciding where they stood were beginning to consider whether it was wiser to establish a relationship with him beforehand. Not because he had demanded their support, nor because he had simply promised them rewards, but because they were beginning to believe that supporting Hamsa might genuinely place them in a better position when the time came.
His use of funds and promises certainly helped, but they were no longer the foundation of it.
His actions were.
And perhaps most importantly, Hamsa had achieved this without openly seeking their favour.
These were not the actions of an ordinary thirteen-year-old.
Yet he was still their son.
Their thirteen-year-old son.
To anyone looking at his life from the outside, it would hardly seem like a healthy way for a child to live. He governed lands, concerned himself with matters of state, directed military reforms, involved himself in trade and industry, and carried responsibilities that most men would have spent decades preparing themselves to bear.
They had never forced any of it upon him.
That was perhaps what troubled them most.
It was simply the way Hamsa was.
And despite their attempts to let him remain a child, they had slowly, almost without realizing it, begun to rely upon him.
They had sent him north to govern lands the Kingdom had neglected for generations. They had entrusted him with decisions surrounding a campaign. And now, when faced with a complicated matter concerning an important foreign alliance, their first thought had once again been to leave the decision to him.
Neither Indra nor Bhadra doubted that Hamsa would have an answer.
That was not the problem.
The problem was that they were beginning to realize just how often they had started looking toward their son for answers in the first place.