The battlefield remained still long after Karna fell.
No conch sounded.
No banner moved.
It was as if the war itself had paused—to acknowledge that something irreplaceable had just passed through it.
Arjuna stood where he was, bow lowered, chest rising unevenly.
He did not feel triumph.
He felt *absence*.
Krishna placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You did not defeat him," Krishna said softly. "You completed him."
Arjuna closed his eyes.
"That feels heavier than victory," he replied.
Krishna nodded. "It should."
---
Pandava soldiers slowly lowered their weapons.
Many bowed their heads.
Some—who had never spoken Karna's name kindly—now whispered it with respect.
On the Kaurava side, something fractured.
Not morale.
Identity.
Commanders looked at one another, uncertain who they were fighting for anymore.
Because Karna had been more than a warrior.
He had been the proof that loyalty still existed.
Now even that was gone.
---
Duryodhana felt it like a blade twisting in his chest.
He staggered back from the ridge, clutching his armor.
"No," he whispered. "Not him. Anyone but him."
The world did not answer.
For the first time since childhood, Duryodhana felt truly alone—not surrounded by enemies, but abandoned by meaning.
Shakuni approached slowly.
"It is time," Shakuni said.
"For what?" Duryodhana snapped.
"To face what remains," Shakuni replied.
Duryodhana laughed hollowly.
"There is nothing left," he said.
---
The armies withdrew at dusk.
Not because of strategy.
Because no one could bear to continue that day.
Bodies were gathered.
The wounded carried.
Karna's body was lifted with reverence by warriors from both sides.
No one objected.
The system observed quietly.
—
[Collective Mourning: Cross-Faction]
[Conflict Momentum: Severely Reduced]
—
---
Rudra stood apart, watching the procession.
No aura.
No pressure.
Just a man witnessing consequence.
"It is finished," Anaya said softly.
"One thread," Rudra replied. "Not the tapestry."
She looked at him. "Will you leave now?"
Rudra considered the battlefield—scarred, quieter, honest.
"Soon," he said. "The war no longer needs a judge."
The system pulsed faintly.
—
[Aspect Dependency: Dissolving]
[Intervention Probability: Minimal]
—
Night fell gently.
Stars emerged one by one, untroubled.
Arjuna sat alone, staring at his hands.
"These hands ended him," he said quietly.
Krishna sat beside him.
"And those hands will carry what he taught," Krishna replied.
Arjuna nodded slowly.
"I won't fight the same way again."
Krishna smiled.
"That," he said, "is his final victory."
---
In the Kaurava camp, Duryodhana sat awake until dawn.
He removed his crown.
Set it aside.
For the first time, he did not reach for it again.
---
As dawn approached, Rudra turned away from the battlefield.
Anaya followed.
Behind them, the war prepared to end—not with fury—
But with exhaustion and truth.
And somewhere between worlds, Karna's story settled into legend—
Not as a tragedy.
But as a correction.
-- chapter 65 ended --