The profound darkness of the forest was absolute, yet the full moon, a silent witness hanging high above the receding clouds, managed to pierce the canopy just enough to cast fractured, silver light onto the small clearing. Rudraksha, perched precariously on his thick branch, strained his eyes to identify the shape below.
He could see the beast: a low, strong silhouette, its movements focused entirely on the covered bundle that was his mother's body. The horrible realization that this creature was attracted by the pervasive smell of blood sent a fresh wave of paralyzing cold through him.
Two options weighed instantly and heavily in his mind, both seeming equally impossible for an eleven-year-old boy, weak from grief and exhaustion. The first: remain hidden, silent, and allow the beast to commit the ultimate sacrilege upon Gauri's corpse—a violation that his promise and his heart could never accept. The second: confront it, fight it, possibly kill it. The second option felt like suicide.
His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic, deafening drum in the overwhelming silence. He couldn't think clearly in the face of such paralyzing fear. This was not the quick, savage bite of necessity he delivered to Zarakan; this was a calculation against an unknown predator in total darkness.
No. I swore to protect her, even in death. I will not let it touch her.
He watched the hyena struggle, its strong jaws and muscular neck working against the rough weave of the stolen tunic clothes. The fabric was tearing slowly, but surely. If he waited even a moment longer, the beast would reach the exposed flesh, and the point of no return would be passed.
Rudraksha focused, channeling every lesson Gauri had ever taught him about the Instant Kill—the precise, lethal strike against pressure points. He knew he couldn't replicate the force or skill, but he could imitate the intent. His goal was not to kill, but to terrify.
He quickly unsheathed one of the smaller, lighter knives he had scavenged. Ignoring the shaking of his hand, he aligned the trajectory, aiming high on the beast's back near the skull—a target for maximum impact shock, not penetration.
With a grunt that was lost to the night, Rudraksha threw the knife.
It hit the hyena with a thunk just above the shoulder blade. The knife did not pierce deeply, but the sheer force of the metallic impact was enough to deliver a sharp, sudden pain. The hyena yelped, a low, guttural noise, instantly recoiling from the body. It was now vigilant, sniffing the air, its head whipping around, unable to discern the attacker's location.
It roared, a small, frustrated sound, searching the dense, dark ground. Rudraksha, remembering Gauri's lessons on remaining out of sight, pressed himself flat against the thick, mossy bark of the branch as the beast momentarily glanced upward.
The hyena, an animal possessing a low but functional intelligence, knew it was being targeted, but couldn't locate the source. Confusion and fear began to replace its hunger.
Rudraksha chose his second weapon: a short, heavy dagger. He waited, allowing the beast's confusion to peak. As the hyena tentatively lowered its head again, trying to reclaim its prize, Rudraksha hurled the dagger.
This time, the aim was better. It struck the hyena's upper abdomen, causing a deeper, more agonizing pain. The beast shrieked, a high-pitched, panicked sound that echoed through the trees. It sprang back, wildly circling Gauri's body, its fear now palpable.
Rudraksha knew he was risking everything. He had only one final dagger left. He was calculating the odds—the beast was injured and confused. One more forceful blow might send it running. He pulled back his last weapon, waiting for the hyena to lift its gaze one final time in confused desperation.
It happened quickly. The hyena, its vision still intact, lifted its head, trying to locate the source of the invisible, painful attacks, its eyes gleaming in the moonlight. Rudraksha threw the dagger.
It was a throw fueled by desperate exhaustion and the ghost of his mother's instruction. The dagger arced down, and by a terrifying, astonishing coincidence, it struck the beast directly in one of its eyes.
The hyena's shriek was transformed into a desperate, terrifying bellow of pure pain. It thrashed wildly for a second, then, panicked and partially blinded, it turned and dashed out of the small clearing, crashing blindly through the undergrowth until the sounds faded completely into the distance.
Rudraksha slumped, letting out a ragged sigh of relief. He had won. He had sacrificed two knives and one dagger, but he had successfully defended his mother's body. He knew he couldn't celebrate. The forest was vast, and more beasts might come, drawn by the lingering scent of blood and the fresh scent of the defeated hyena's own minor injuries.
He shook his head, fighting the overwhelming urge to sleep. There were still a few hours left before sunrise. He needed to be vigilant, but more importantly, he needed to solve the problem of the scent.
Climbing down silently, his legs shaky, he looked at the muddy, wet ground near the base of the tree. The monsoon rain had churned the earth into thick, pliable mud.
Scent.Masking.
He chided himself mentally—why hadn't he thought of this earlier? It was an ancient hunting trick Gauri had taught him. He knelt down, scooping up handfuls of the cold, wet mud and plastering it meticulously all over the tunic clothes covering Gauri's body, paying special attention to the areas near the arrow wound and the severed arm.
For several minutes, he worked, turning the covered body into an indistinguishable, mud-caked mound.
Finally, satisfied that the strong, metallic odor of blood was sealed, Rudraksha climbed back up to his safe perch. He took a deep, steady breath, the first truly calm breath since his mother's death. He checked the perimeter one last time. Silence.
Knowing he was protected for the final hours of the night, Rudraksha finally allowed his eyelids to close. The night passed peacefully, giving the young warrior a desperately needed, dreamless rest.
The sun, a fiery orange orb, began to burn through the morning haze, its rays reaching down to warm Rudraksha, pulling him gently from his sleep. He stretched his stiff, aching body, wincing at the back pain from sleeping on the branch.
His first action was to vigilantly scan the surroundings. He sighed in relief—the hyena was gone, and no other predator had appeared. He was safe. It was time to prepare for the journey.
.....
Back in the modern, sterile set of the World Public Forum (WPF) studio, Eleanor Vance leaned forward, her eyes wide with a mixture of admiration and professional respect for the boy's resourcefulness.
"Dr. Rao," Eleanor stated, the tone of her voice now completely devoid of her earlier skepticism. "That was truly brave of him. To face a nocturnal predator like that, injured, in the pitch black... he used his brain, his environment, and yes, quite a bit of luck to survive. And the idea of covering the corpse with mud to mask the scent? That's not a child's ingenuity. That's a hunter's instinct. Right?"
All the crew members, even Michael, nodded in agreement.
Dr. Rao smiled, a deep, knowing expression. "Precisely, Ms. Vance. And this is just the beginning. The series of impossible events, the constant necessity to choose between death and survival, these are the crucibles that shaped his temperament. These incidents are the building blocks of the Samrat."
Dr. Rao turned his gaze directly to the camera, a gentle warning in his eyes. "It is merely a statement of fact, my dear audience; I do not suggest any contemporary child should attempt such methods. Please, it is reckless. This is a story about the extreme realities of a long-vanished, brutal age. Be safe, and do not try this at home."
Eleanor chimed in, echoing his caution. "Dr. Rao is absolutely correct. And indeed, Dr. Rao, it will be a long, dangerous journey for the audience to follow. But judging by our live streams, the energy is high."
She gestured toward a side screen where a rapid feed of global viewer comments was scrolling, showing names and flags from every continent.
Youtube Live (Comments)
Kyoto_Kat (Japan): Satoru's constellation must be this boy. He's already a killer at 11.
BalkanBear (Serbia): The mud trick is genius! The hyena didn't stand a chance against that raw survival instinct.
Texas_Rider (USA): That's the difference between a Prince and a Samrat. He fought dirty and won.
Lagos_Vibes (Nigeria): I cannot believe a child had that kind of resolve. My heart breaks for him.
Seoul_Streamer (Korea): He sacrificed the weapons! That was a tactical loss for a strategic win. Future General material.
"The audience is definitely engaged, Doctor," Eleanor confirmed. "They are connecting the dots. The legend is alive. Now, the new day dawns. What is the boy's first order of business now that the night is over?"
"Survival is his first order," Dr. Rao replied, his voice returning to its resonant, narrative tone. "He has a promise to keep, and a path of absolute destruction to walk. The next part begins with the final, hardest act of devotion: leaving his mother behind."