The adrenaline from the Krodha-Varaha fight was still thrumming through Ravi's veins, a potent cocktail mixed with the sheer absurdity of his situation. He wiped beast blood from his cheek with the back of his hand, the coppery scent alien yet invigorating. The silver-haired girl, who had introduced herself as Chandani, was still staring at him, her amethyst eyes wide with a confusing mix of fear, gratitude, and something akin to hero-worship.
"So," Ravi began, his voice a little hoarse, "Chandani, was it? Fancy name. Means 'moonlight,' right? Fitting, considering you almost became moonlight yourself back there." He gestured with the bloody tusk towards the fallen Krodha-Varaha.
Chandani flinched slightly at the gruesome reminder but nodded. "Y-yes. Thank you, truly. I am Chandani, daughter of the Royal Advisor Vasudev of the Suryavanshi Kingdom… or what's left of it." Her voice, though melodic, was laced with a profound sadness.
Ravi raised an eyebrow. "Suryavanshi Kingdom? Royal Advisor? Sounds like you're a big deal. What's a VIP like you doing playing hide-and-seek with a walking porkzilla in the middle of nowhere?"
His [Eyes of the Scrap God] flickered, subtly analyzing Chandani. The system highlighted her torn silk garments as 'High-Grade Enchanted Fabric (Damaged)' and a small, almost invisible pendant around her neck as 'Amulet of Concealment (Depleted)'. Enchanted fabric? Amulets? This ain't Bhiwani, alright.
Chandani clutched the pendant. "We were… attacked. Our convoy. By raiders serving the Usurper King, Mahipal. My father… he told me to run, to seek sanctuary at the hidden Sunstone Monastery. He gave me this amulet to hide my presence, but its power faded." Tears welled in her eyes.
Ravi's usual cynicism softened, just a fraction. He'd seen his share of suffering, of people losing everything. "Mahipal, huh? Sounds like a real piece of work. So, this monastery, how far is it?"
"Two days' journey north, through the Vanaranya Forest," Chandani replied, pointing with a trembling finger. "But it is treacherous. Crawling with Krodha-Varahas, Visha-Sarpas (venomous giant snakes), and worse… Mahipal's patrols."
"Great. More oversized pests and power-hungry goons. Just my luck," Ravi muttered, but there was a new gleam in his eye. This wasn't just survival anymore; it was a challenge. And Ravi, despite his humble beginnings, had never backed down from a proper challenge. "Alright, Moonlight. Looks like you've got yourself a highly unqualified, but surprisingly effective, bodyguard. Let's get moving before this one's buddies show up for a condolence feast."
He salvaged what he could from the Krodha-Varaha. His [Eyes of the Scrap God] were invaluable, highlighting edible meat, durable hide, and even a small, dense gland near its heart that pulsed with a faint energy – 'Beast Core (Low Grade) – Mana Catalyst'. Mana Catalyst? Interesting. He wrapped it in a large leaf. The tusk, he kept. It felt good in his hand, a proper weapon.
Their journey began. Ravi, with his heightened senses and uncanny spatial awareness, took the lead. The Vanaranya Forest was a kaleidoscope of vibrant, alien flora and fauna. Trees towered hundreds of feet, their bark shimmering with iridescent moss. Flowers bloomed in colours he'd never seen, some beautiful, some looking like they could swallow a man whole.
Chandani, despite her fear, proved to be a wealth of information. She explained that this world, Aryavarta, was suffused with Mana, the lifeblood of magic. Mages, warriors who could channel Mana, and even mystical beasts, all drew power from it. She herself had a minor affinity for healing magic, though she admitted she was far from proficient.
"So, this Mahipal chap," Ravi asked, deftly sidestepping a root that looked suspiciously like a coiled serpent, "why the power grab?"
"Ambition. Greed," Chandani said, her voice tight. "He was a powerful warlord, once loyal. But he craved the Sun Throne. He allied himself with dark mages from the Shadowfen, promising them power in exchange for their aid. Our King, Veerendra, was… noble, but perhaps too trusting."
Ravi snorted. "Trusting gets you a knife in the back. Oldest story in the book, whether it's in a kingdom or a Bhiwani slum."
Suddenly, Ravi stopped. He held up a hand, silencing Chandani. His head tilted, listening. His [Eyes of the Scrap God] flickered, highlighting faint disturbances in the undergrowth ahead – almost invisible tripwires, camouflaged snares.
"Company," he whispered, his voice dropping to a low growl. "And not the friendly kind."
He pushed Chandani behind a massive, gnarled tree. "Stay here. Don't make a sound, no matter what you hear. Got it?"
She nodded, her eyes wide with fear, but also a flicker of something else – trust.
Ravi moved like a phantom. His [Adaptive Metabolism] seemed to be working overtime, his movements fluid, silent, almost preternatural. He spotted them – three rough-looking men, clad in mismatched leather armour, armed with crude swords and axes. They were setting up an ambush along the narrow path. Their insignia, a snarling wolf's head, matched the description Chandani had given for Mahipal's raiders.
One of them, a burly fellow with a scar cleaving his eyebrow, grumbled, "Think that noble brat actually made it this far, Vikram?"
Another, leaner and with shifty eyes, spat. "Captain Devraj wants her found. Alive, if possible. The Usurper King wants to make an example. If not… well, a pretty corpse is still proof."
Ravi's blood ran cold. Devraj? Another scumbag to add to the list. He felt a surge of protective anger, surprisingly fierce. He wouldn't let these hyenas touch Chandani.
He decided against a direct confrontation. He was strong, yes, but these were armed men, likely experienced. He needed an edge. His eyes scanned the environment – a rotten log teeming with large, angry-looking red ants, a precariously balanced boulder, a dense patch of stinging nettles the size of small bushes.
Perfect.
He moved with the wind. First, he dislodged a small stone, sending it clattering down near the rotten log. As one of the raiders, the shifty one, went to investigate, Ravi gave the log a powerful, silent kick. It tumbled, breaking open and unleashing a furious swarm of fire ants directly onto the unsuspecting raider.
The man screamed, dropping his sword and flailing as thousands of tiny, burning bites covered him. "Aag! Aag! Ants! Get them off me!"
The other two, Vikram and the scarred one, were momentarily stunned. That was all Ravi needed. He sprinted towards the scarred man, who was trying to draw his axe. Ravi feinted left, then ducked under the clumsy swing, his fist connecting with the man's jaw with a sickening crack. The man went down like a sack of potatoes.
Vikram, recovering his wits, charged with a roar, sword raised. Ravi didn't have a weapon to match, only the Krodha-Varaha tusk. He dodged the first wild swing, the blade whistling past his ear. He could feel the air displacement. This guy was serious.
"You picked the wrong day to play highwayman, pal!" Ravi taunted, backing away, leading Vikram towards the patch of giant stinging nettles.
"I'll flay you alive, street rat!" Vikram snarled, lunging.
Ravi sidestepped at the last moment, his foot shooting out to trip Vikram. The raider stumbled, arms windmilling, and plunged headfirst into the dense patch of nettles. His howls of pain were even louder than the ant-covered man's.
Ravi dusted off his hands. "Note to self: nature is a badass ally."
He quickly disarmed the unconscious scarred man and tied them all up securely using their own belts and strips of their leather armour. The ant-covered one was still writhing, the nettle-covered one was sobbing.
Chandani emerged, looking pale but amazed. "You… you defeated them. Without even drawing a proper sword."
Ravi shrugged, picking up one of the discarded swords – a crudely made but serviceable weapon. "Swords are for show-offs. Brains and a good pair of legs, that's the real deal. And sometimes, angry ants." He grinned. "Besides, my trash-picking skills involve a lot of creative problem-solving."
He interrogated the least incapacitated raider, Vikram, who was now covered in angry red welts. After a few pointed threats involving more fire ants and a reintroduction to the nettles, Vikram spilled everything. Their captain, Devraj, was a notoriously cruel commander under Mahipal. They were part of a larger patrol sweeping the forest for Chandani. Devraj himself was headquartered in a ruined watchtower about half a day's march west, near the Gandak River crossing.
"A ruined watchtower, huh?" Ravi mused. "Sounds like a good place to pick up some better gear. And maybe send a message to this Devraj character."
Chandani looked horrified. "You can't mean to go there! It will be heavily guarded!"
"Relax, Moonlight," Ravi said, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light. "I'm not planning a frontal assault. I'm just going to do a little… scouting. See what I can salvage. Besides," he hefted the confiscated sword, "I could use an upgrade from a boar's toothpick."
He knew it was risky. Insanely risky. But something about this new world, this raw power coursing through him, made him crave the thrill, the challenge. He wasn't just surviving anymore; he was living.
As dusk began to paint the sky in hues of orange and purple, they found a relatively sheltered cave for the night. Ravi expertly started a small, smokeless fire. He cooked some of the Krodha-Varaha meat, which, to his surprise, tasted remarkably good after being roasted – his [Adaptive Metabolism] probably neutralizing any toxins.
Chandani watched him, her earlier fear slowly being replaced by a hesitant admiration. "You are… unlike anyone I have ever met, Ravi."
"Yeah, well, most folks in Bhiwani would agree with you, though probably not in a good way," he chuckled.
Later, as Chandani slept fitfully, Ravi sat by the fire, examining the 'Beast Core (Low Grade)'. It pulsed faintly in his palm. He wondered if he could use it, if it was the key to this 'Mana' Chandani spoke of. His [Threads of Fate (Dormant)] skill tingled faintly at the back of his mind, a subtle thrum of anticipation, like a sitar string plucked in another room.
Suddenly, a low, guttural chuckle echoed from the mouth of the cave. It wasn't an animal. It was deep, resonant, and filled with chilling amusement.
Ravi was on his feet in an instant, sword in hand, positioning himself in front of the sleeping Chandani. His heart hammered. Who the hell?
A figure emerged from the shadows, silhouetted against the dying light. Tall, broad-shouldered, and radiating an aura of palpable menace. Two points of light glowed where his eyes should be, like embers in the dark.
"Well, well, well," the figure rumbled, his voice like stones grinding together. "Look what the Vayu-Deva (Wind God) blew in. A little mouse, and a… rather spirited rat. I am Arjun Singh, loyal servant to Captain Devraj. And you, boy, have been causing quite a stir." He took a step forward, a massive, ghee-slicked mace appearing in his hand as if from nowhere. "The Captain is very eager to meet the one who embarrassed his men. Especially one who smells so… interestingly of Bhiwani."
Ravi's blood ran cold. Bhiwani? How in the seven hells does this monster know about Bhiwani?
The air crackled with tension. This Arjun Singh was no mere raider. He was something else entirely, something far more dangerous. The goosebumps rising on Ravi's arms weren't just from the night air. This was a predator, and Ravi had just walked into his hunting ground.
The thrilling ride had just hit a terrifying, stomach-lurching drop.