The name "Bhiwani" hung in the humid cave air, colder and sharper than any winter wind Ravi had ever felt back in his old life. It wasn't just a name; it was a piece of his soul, a secret cornerstone of his existence, now inexplicably uttered by this mountain of a man whose eyes glowed like malevolent coals.
"Bhiwani?" Ravi repeated, his voice a low, dangerous hum. He kept his body between Arjun Singh and the still-sleeping Chandani. The confiscated raider sword felt flimsy against the sheer presence of this new threat. "What nonsense are you spewing, you oversized goon? Lost your way from the local akhada (wrestling arena)?"
Arjun Singh chuckled, a sound like boulders grinding. His massive, ghee-slicked mace, easily the size of a small goat, rested casually on his shoulder. The polished metal gleamed faintly in the firelight, reflecting distorted images of Ravi's tense face. "Nonsense? Oh, I think not, little rat. Some scents are… unforgettable. The dust of Bhiwani, the desperation, the resourcefulness born from sifting through refuse. It clings to you, even across worlds."
Ravi's mind reeled. Across worlds? How? Is this guy… like me? No, he feels different. Ancient. Powerful in a way that isn't just physical. His [Eyes of the Scrap God] flickered erratically, struggling to analyze Arjun. It highlighted the mace as 'Bhairava's Tooth – Mana Infused Weapon (High Impact)' and Arjun himself as 'Human (?) – Significant Mana Reserves – Threat Level: Yamaraja's Cousin.' Not reassuring.
"You talk a big game for someone who looks like he bathes in cooking oil," Ravi shot back, his heart pounding a furious rhythm against his ribs. Fear was a cold knot in his stomach, but defiance was a fire in his blood. He wouldn't break. Not here. Not now.
Arjun Singh's smile widened, a predatory slash in the dim light. "This 'cooking oil', as you call it, is consecrated Ghee of the Vanquisher. It makes my mace slip through paltry defenses and my skin tougher than any Krodha-Varaha hide. You'll find it… unpleasant." He took another step, the ground seeming to tremble. "Captain Devraj is a patient man, but his patience for runaways and those who aid them is thin. He offers the girl a quick death if she surrenders. For you, boy… he has other plans. More… instructive."
Chandani stirred, awakened by the menacing voices. She gasped, her eyes fixing on Arjun Singh, pure terror washing over her face. "Arjun Singh… Devraj's Butcher!"
"Ah, the little princess awakens," Arjun rumbled, his glowing eyes shifting to her. "Your father, Vasudev, was a fool to defy the true King. You will share his fate."
"Leave her out of this!" Ravi barked, shifting his stance. He had to do something, anything. A direct fight was suicide. His eyes darted around the cave – narrow passages, loose rocks on the ceiling, the flickering fire. Think, Ravi, think like you're trapped in a collapsing landfill with rabid dogs closing in!
"Brave words, trash picker," Arjun sneered. "Let's see if your actions match."
With a speed that belied his bulk, Arjun swung his mace. It wasn't a wild, telegraphed attack, but a precise, whistling arc aimed to crush Ravi's sword arm. The air shrieked around the weapon.
Ravi reacted on pure instinct, honed by years of dodging dangers in Bhiwani's alleys. He dropped, rolling beneath the lethal arc, the wind of its passage ruffling his hair. The mace slammed into the cave wall where he'd been standing, sending stone splinters flying like shrapnel. One grazed his cheek, drawing blood.
"Too slow, Ghee-Man!" Ravi yelled, scrambling back, putting the fire between them. The heat scorched his back.
Chandani, seeing Ravi in mortal danger, did the only thing she could. She raised her hands, her voice trembling as she chanted a simple incantation. A faint, pale green light enveloped her fingers. "Lata Bandhan (Vine Bind)!"
Thin, ethereal vines of green Mana shot from her hands towards Arjun. They were weak, more symbolic than substantial.
Arjun Singh barely glanced at them. With a contemptuous flick of his free hand, the vines disintegrated into harmless sparks. "Pathetic parlor tricks, girl. Your mother's healing arts were stronger even on her deathbed."
The cruel taunt hit Chandani like a physical blow. Tears welled in her eyes, but Ravi saw a spark of fury ignite within her. Good. Anger was better than despair.
"Hey, leave her mother out of it, you oversized ladoo!" Ravi shouted, using the momentary distraction. He grabbed a burning log from the fire with his bare hand – his [Adaptive Metabolism] instantly dulling the worst of the pain – and hurled it at Arjun's face.
Arjun reacted with disdain, swatting the flaming projectile aside with his mace. But it bought Ravi a precious second. His [Eyes of the Scrap God] locked onto a patch of loose stalactites directly above Arjun Singh, highlighted in a faint, pulsing blue. Jackpot!
"Chandani! Distract him! Now!" Ravi yelled, already moving.
Understanding dawned in Chandani's eyes. Steeling herself, she shouted, "My father will see you hang for your crimes, Butcher! The Suryavanshi spirit is not so easily broken!" It was a brave, if slightly shaky, declaration.
Arjun turned his glowing eyes towards her, a sneer on his lips. "The only thing broken, little princess, will be your hope."
That was the opening Ravi needed. He'd scrambled up a slight incline on the cave wall. He pushed with all his might against a precariously balanced boulder that supported the cluster of stalactites. It groaned, shifted… and then gave way.
"Timber, you greasy oaf!" Ravi roared.
A shower of heavy, pointed rocks rained down. Arjun Singh looked up, his eyes widening fractionally. He brought his mace up in a defensive posture, roaring in anger as several large stalactites slammed into him and around him. Dust and debris filled the narrow part of the cave.
Ravi didn't wait to see the outcome. He grabbed Chandani's arm. "Run! Now! Don't look back!"
They scrambled out of the cave mouth, bursting into the moonlit forest, the sounds of Arjun Singh's enraged bellowing and crashing rocks echoing behind them.
"He… he knows about Bhiwani," Ravi panted as they ran, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "How the hell does he know?"
"I… I don't understand," Chandani gasped, struggling to keep pace. "Bhiwani? Is that… a place in your homeland?"
"My old homeland," Ravi corrected grimly. The implications were terrifying. If Arjun knew, did Devraj? Did Mahipal? Was his reincarnation not some random cosmic lottery, but something… targeted? The thought sent a fresh wave of chills down his spine, colder than any Krodha-Varaha's breath.
They didn't stop running until their lungs burned and their legs screamed in protest. Ravi, guided by his instincts, found a dense thicket, almost impenetrable, and burrowed them deep within it. Only then did he allow them a moment's respite.
"Think we lost him?" Chandani whispered, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
Ravi listened intently. The forest was alive with its usual nocturnal sounds, but the distinct thud of Arjun Singh's heavy footfalls was absent. "For now. But he won't give up. Guys like that, with egos bigger than their maces, they take things personally." He gingerly touched the bleeding cut on his cheek. His [Adaptive Metabolism] was already working, the bleeding slowing, the sting lessening.
"That was… incredible, Ravi," Chandani said, her voice filled with awe. "You faced him… you used the cave itself!"
"Had to," Ravi grunted, wincing as he flexed his hand, still feeling the phantom heat from the burning log. "Fighting him head-on would have been like trying to stop a runaway bull with a ladoo. Speaking of which," his eyes narrowed, "that ghee. It wasn't just for show. His mace slid off my sword like it was greased lightning. And his skin… those rocks should have done more damage."
His [Eyes of the Scrap God] had also shown him something else during the brief, chaotic fight. A faint, almost invisible seam running along the handle of Arjun's mace, just below the head. A potential weak point? Or a mechanism? The system hadn't elaborated.
"The Ghee of the Vanquisher," Chandani murmured. "It's an ancient martial tradition, practiced by a select few warrior clans loyal to Mahipal. They coat their weapons and sometimes their bodies in specially prepared clarified butter, infused with Mana and rare herbs. It grants them enhanced durability and makes their attacks harder to parry."
"Great. So, I'm up against magical butter warriors now," Ravi said, a touch of his old sarcastic humor returning despite the grim situation. "What's next? Samosa-shaped shields? Jalebi whips?"
Chandani managed a weak smile. "You make light of it, but Arjun Singh is one of Devraj's most feared enforcers. They call him 'Devraj's Shadow Hand' because he appears when least expected and delivers brutal justice."
"Shadow Hand, Butcher… these guys really need better PR," Ravi mused. Then, his expression turned serious again. "Chandani, that comment about Bhiwani. It's not just a random taunt. I am from a place called Bhiwani. A world away from here. How could he possibly know?"
Chandani looked thoughtful, her fear momentarily overshadowed by curiosity and concern. "There are legends… whispers of 'Star-Fallen' individuals. Beings who arrive in Aryavarta from beyond the cosmic veil. Some are benevolent, others… less so. Perhaps he sensed something unique about your spirit, your Mana signature?"
"My Mana signature smells like a garbage dump in Haryana?" Ravi deadpanned. "Look, I don't know what's going on, but one thing's clear: this Devraj character isn't just after you. He, or someone he works for, might know something about me. And that makes him priority number one on my 'people to inconvenience greatly' list."
His gaze hardened. The encounter with Arjun Singh, terrifying as it was, had also lit a fire under him. He wasn't just a lost soul anymore. He had a purpose, even if it was just to figure out why he was here and why these goons seemed to have a disturbing amount of intel on his past life.
"The watchtower," Ravi said decisively. "We need to know what Devraj is planning. And I need to find out how they know about me. We rest for a few hours, then we head west. But this time, we're not just running. We're hunting for answers."
Chandani looked at him, at the blood on his cheek, the fierce determination in his eyes, the grime that still clung to him despite his new, powerful form. He was brash, unconventional, and had the vocabulary of a seasoned street brawler, but he was also incredibly brave and surprisingly resourceful. And he had saved her life, twice.
"Okay, Ravi," she said, a new resolve in her own voice. "To the watchtower. But we do this carefully. My healing might be weak, but I can at least patch you up if you get too reckless."
Ravi grinned, a flash of white teeth in the dim light. "Reckless is my middle name, Moonlight. Or it would be, if I had one. Let's just say 'Ravi 'Danger-Prone' Kumar' has a nice ring to it."
As they settled into an uneasy silence, Ravi couldn't shake Arjun Singh's glowing eyes or his chilling words. The world of Aryavarta was far more complex and dangerous than he could have imagined. And his past, which he thought he'd left behind in a crumpled heap on a Bhiwani road, was apparently still chasing him, even across dimensions. The thrill was undeniable, but so was the creeping dread. The game had changed. The stakes were higher than ever. And somewhere, Arjun Singh was likely nursing a bruised ego and a reinforced desire to turn Ravi into a particularly messy stain on the forest floor.
The thought, perversely, almost made him smile. This new life was anything but boring.