When Aryan returned, the house was quiet. He carried a large container in one hand, but his eyes were drawn immediately to the pond.
Anand sat at its edge, bare from the waist up, his body still and composed. Around him, a dense green aura of mana pulsed slowly, rising and falling like waves. The energy was heavy, alive, and yet strangely calm — like the breath of the forest itself.
Aryan's step faltered for the briefest moment, his eyes narrowing before he composed himself. He said nothing, slipping inside the cabin to place the container on the table.
Half an hour later, the aura faded. Anand stretched, rolling his shoulders with a low exhale, then noticed Aryan. With an easy grin, he walked over.
Inside, Aryan had already unpacked the container. Dishes of food were neatly set out, and beside them sat a crate of cigarettes and two bottles of wine.
Anand dropped into the chair without hesitation and began to eat. Aryan stood nearby, hands folded behind his back. His eyes lingered on Anand a moment longer than necessary, lips tightening ever so slightly, before he finally turned away to give him space.
After finishing his meal, Anand drank a glass of water and stepped outside. He leaned against the wooden wall, pulling a cigarette from the pack. Sliding it between his lips, he patted his pockets out of habit, searching for a lighter that wasn't there.
A faint smile tugged at his mouth — a memory of old times.
Aryan stepped forward silently, flicking a lighter to life. Anand leaned in, the tip catching with a soft glow. He drew in a slow, deep breath, the smoke curling lazily into the mountain air.
Exhaling, Anand gave Aryan a sidelong look, amusement in his eyes.
"Don't like the smell, do you?"
Aryan's brow creased, though his tone remained even.
"I don't smoke."
Anand chuckled, taking another drag.
"Good. Someone has to stay pure in this rotten world."
The silence stretched between them, broken only by the faint crackle of the cigarette as the breeze carried the smoke away.
After finishing his cigarette and taking a short rest, Anand stepped into the open space in front of the cabin. He stood still for a moment, then slowly began to move. His body flowed through strikes, turns, and kicks — deliberate yet unrestrained.
Aryan watched silently at first, arms folded. There was something familiar about the movements, yet they felt… off. When Anand shifted into a sharp leg motion, Aryan's eyes narrowed in recognition.
Taekwondo… but not exactly.
"Aren't you doing it a little different?" Aryan finally asked.
Anand stopped mid-step and glanced at him, a faintly arrogant smile tugging at his lips.
"What's different about the moves I performed?"
"I can't say they're wrong…" Aryan stepped forward, his tone steady. "But they're a little… crude."
He shifted into stance and performed a clean sequence — sharp kicks, fluid pivots, precise balance. "This is how it should look. I specialize in Taekwondo. And the other movements you used… they don't match any proper forms either."
Anand chuckled, low and amused.
"So that's what you meant."
Aryan blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
"You're right. Those movements are different because I never learned them properly," Anand said, as if confessing something trivial. "I just saw people perform them — Taekwondo, Karate, Judo, even sword forms — and then I integrated them into my own style. So they're not crude. They're simply made for me."
Aryan froze, dumbfounded. His mind raced. He copied dozens of martial arts… just by watching?
__________________
Life at Ironfang Mountain settled into a quiet routine.
Anand slept longer than most, often not waking until late morning. The cryogenic sleep had left its mark, his body still adjusting after so many years. But once he was up, he moved with steady purpose.
He practiced by the pond, channeling ather until the water rippled in rhythm with his breath. In the clearing, he worked through martial movements, a mix of forms that looked familiar yet carried his own touch. Later, he turned to the sword, testing its balance with simple, precise swings.
Evenings were quieter. Cigarettes, a little wine, and the stillness of the cabin became part of his routine.
Aryan came and went with meals, saying little, but he observed enough — Anand's training wasn't rushed or flashy, just steady, deliberate, and constant.
______________
9 days later
In the Patil family estate
A noble-looking young man stood rigidly in front of a heavy desk. On the other side sat a broad-shouldered, middle-aged man in a black shirt and matching trousers. His presence alone filled the room.
The man slammed his palm on the desk and rose to his feet.
"It's already been decided — you cannot marry that woman!"
"But why?" the young man pleaded, his voice breaking. "She's the love of my life!"
"As I said," the man growled, "you cannot."
The young man's eyes wavered, his voice trembling. "But why?"
The older man sighed, turned toward the window, and lit a cigarette. Smoke curled lazily as he spoke, his tone sharp but weary.
"Do you know what she scored on the test?"
The young man swallowed nervously. "How much?"
"Seventeen." He turned back, his voice rising to a roar. "Do you understand? Reyan, Seventeen! Even our mistresses scored higher than that!"
The young man blinked in shock. "You… have mistresses?"
The brawny man smirked, his tone suddenly playful. "Do you really think your mother can handle me alone?" Then, just as quickly, his voice thundered again. "That's not the point here! You cannot marry her!"
"B-but Dad… how… can I—"
"That's the family rule, kid. Without approval, you cannot marry. A wrong woman in the family can have it fall apart. " He stepped closer, resting a heavy hand on his son's shoulder.
The young man's mouth hung open, stunned. "…But…"
"Don't look so discouraged," his father said more softly, almost reassuring. "It's not like you can't keep her around. Just don't marry her. That's all."
"Really?"
"Yes. But if you do decided to marry to someone else, you'll need her permission first. Now go — I've got matters to deal with."
The young man left the room slowly, still half in disbelief.
The older man sank back into his chair, exhaling smoke and muttering with a satisfied grin.
___________________________
Veer sat in the hall, calmly sipping his tea, his expression as composed as ever.
The sharp sound of heels echoed against the floor. A woman in her thirties approached in quick strides, her face set with anger. She was elegant, her figure curvy yet refined, but her eyes burned as she came to a stop before him.
"What do you mean by this, brother?" she snapped.
Veer didn't even lift his gaze from the cup. "What happened?" he asked, voice steady, as though the world itself couldn't shake him.
"The back mountain. Why did you seal it? Raghavan was supposed to train there!" she said angrily, her tone brimming with accusation.
"Oh, that…" Veer finally placed the cup down, his voice smooth and unhurried. "There's an irregularity there. That's why it's sealed for the time being. It'll take some time."
Her voice sharpened further. "What irregularity could be so great that even our family must wait?"
Veer's eyes flickered with steel. "Don't forget who you are speaking to. I've already sent people to deal with it. It will resolve in due time."
The woman clenched her fists, anger plain on her face, but she knew she couldn't push further. She turned on her heel and left without another word.
On her way out, she crossed paths with Veer's wife, who stopped her. "Why do you look so angry, Raniya?" she asked gently.
Raniya only shook her head, refusing to answer, and continued walking.
Curious, Veer's wife entered the hall and found him reaching for a cookie, perfectly at ease. She sat down beside him. "What did you do to Raniya? She looked furious."
Veer smiled faintly, nibbling on the cookie. "Oh, nothing. Just a casual talk between brother and sister."
His wife gave him a knowing look. "You shouldn't provoke her. She hasn't been stable since… his death."
"I know," Veer admitted softly, his tone carrying a rare sadness.
For a moment, silence lingered between them. Then she broke it, reaching for a cookie herself. "So, when are you going to the City of Dawn for the Five Capital Meeting?"
"I'm not," Veer replied casually. "I was thinking of sending Arjun this time."
She tilted her head. "Why?"
"There's something here I need to take care of." His voice was calm, but firm, leaving no room for doubt.