The path changed.
Not in direction—Karna's feet still followed the same forest trail.
But in its nature.
Before, it had been quiet, uncertain, a path walked alone.
Now it was alive with voices, footsteps, laughter, and the occasional clatter of wood against wood.
Karna walked among them.
Not alone.
Not in silence.
But amidst movement.
Amidst the world of princes.
Beside him, Duryodhana moved with steady, measured steps.
Relaxed, yet fully aware of everything around him.
The other boys trailed behind in varying formations.
Some whispered to one another, exchanging confused glances.
Some watched openly, their eyes sharp, assessing.
Some remained distant, unsure, hesitant to approach someone unknown.
The forest slowly gave way to wider paths.
The sounds of training grounds drifted in ahead—rhythmic and persistent.
Wood striking wood.
Voices calling instructions.
Feet moving with coordinated rhythm.
