The woman smiled gently. "My name is still Malini. But yes, I am no Yakshini. I am an Apsara of Swargaloka, Veer. I was adopted by Lord Kubera as his daughter many years ago. Once… Lord Indra commanded me to descend to Earth. There was a great sage, Rishi Shiladh. His tapasya had begun to worry Lord Indra, so I was sent to disturb his meditation."
She lowered her head. "I obeyed. But as a result, he cursed me, saying, 'Since you take pride in beauty and tempt the minds of men, become a Yakshini and wander the forests of Earth. Live by fulfilling the desires of those who seek you. Only when a righteous man rejects your temptation and frees you through his own hands shall your curse finally end.' For countless years I wandered from one forest to another. I forgot what freedom felt like. A bird that has lived too long in a cage sometimes forgets the sky itself."
She looked toward Karna once again. "But today you have liberated me. I owe you a debt that cannot be repaid."
Before Karna could answer, a miniature golden tree suddenly appeared within Malini's hands. Though only the size of his palm, every branch shimmered with celestial light. She extended it toward him.
"This belongs to my father. It is known among the Yakshas as the Kalpavriksha Seal. As long as you possess it, the Yakshas and Yakshinis dwelling upon Earth shall recognize you as a friend. If ever righteousness requires their strength, you need only present this treasure. They shall hear your request. They shall aid you. Just as a sealed letter carries the authority of the king who wrote it, so does this seal carry the authority of Kubera himself."
Karna accepted it carefully. The artifact felt surprisingly warm. "I shall treasure it."
Malini nodded gratefully. "There is one more thing. Continue toward the east. You will eventually find a tree so enormous that it resembles a mountain. Beneath its roots lies another cave. Your destination is there. This forest does not belong only to Yakshas and Rakshasas. Pishachas also dwell here. If night falls before your journey ends, do not wander. They hunt by scent. They delight in fear. Please be careful."
Karna folded his palms. "You have my gratitude, Devi."
Malini smiled. "No. The gratitude belongs to me."
Her body slowly dissolved into countless particles of white light. Within moments, she had returned to the heavens. Silence settled once again.
Karna lowered his gaze toward the golden tree resting within his hand. A faint smile appeared. "It seems a righteous deed always bears fruit, just as a seed planted with care eventually becomes a tree that gives shade to others."
He carefully wrapped the celestial treasure in a small cloth before placing it inside the leather pouch hanging from his waist alongside a few gold coins. As he resumed walking, another thought quietly surfaced.
"Dharani Mata… I still cannot understand. I merely wished to help. Then why did I receive such a curse? What kind of plans does fate have for me, that I have to die in the hands of a woman..."
For several moments, he continued walking without another word.
Eventually, a distant memory returned—a rainy night, a dying woman, Roshini, his first wife, and the promise he had made. He had sworn to slay Kamsa without delay. Yet fate had forced him to abandon that journey midway and return to his late wife instead. Kamsa had lived another year before finally meeting his end.
Karna quietly sighed. "Was that the promise I failed to fulfill? If so… perhaps this is the fruit of that karma. A debt left unpaid does not disappear with time; it only waits for the right moment to be collected."
The question remained unanswered. He continued deeper into Kaalavana.
Hours passed.
The dense forest seemed endless.
Eventually Karna stopped beside a small stream whose crystal-clear water flowed gently over smooth stones.
Nearby grew several types of fruit-bearing trees. He ate quietly before sitting beneath one of the enormous trees. Crossing his legs, he closed his eyes.
"Om Namah Shivaya…"
The forest gradually became silent. Night slowly descended. Then a foul odor drifted through the air—rotting flesh, decay.
Karna slowly opened his eyes. His brows furrowed. "So… they have arrived."
Laughter echoed from every direction. "Hehehe… A human… So healthy… So full of life… Hahahaha…"
Invisible figures moved between the trees. Long pale hands occasionally emerged before disappearing once again into the darkness. Their whispers surrounded him. "So much flesh… So much blood…"
Karna closed his eyes once more. "Pishachas." He did not move. He did not summon Vijaya. Instead, he folded his palms.
"Om Namah Shivaya…" His voice remained steady. Again. "Om Namah Shivaya…" Again. The chant continued.
Golden flames slowly emerged around his body.
Unlike ordinary fire, these flames neither burned the trees nor gave off smoke. They simply formed a peaceful circle around him, like the protective wall of a temple that keeps impurity at bay while allowing the pure to approach.
The laughter gradually became uneasy. "The fire… We cannot go closer… His devotion… He has the blessings of Mahadeva..."
The Pishachas continued circling him throughout the night. None dared cross the flames. When dawn finally arrived, the foul smell had disappeared. The forest became quiet once again.
Karna slowly opened his eyes. He rose peacefully. His journey continued.
By midday, he finally found it—an enormous tree. Its trunk was wider than many palace courtyards, while its branches spread across the sky like an entire forest suspended above the earth.
"It must be this."
Walking around its roots, Karna soon discovered a dark opening concealed beneath the gigantic trunk.
The cave.
Without hesitation, he entered.
The passage stretched deep beneath the earth.
The further he walked, the stronger a nauseating stench became—rotting flesh, old blood, death. Karna's expression slowly hardened.
Eventually the tunnel opened into an enormous underground chamber.
At its center slept a gigantic Rakshasa. Its thunderous snores shook the cave walls. Nearby, several crude iron cages stood against the rocks. Inside them lay men and women. Some were unconscious. Some did not move at all.
Karna immediately walked toward the nearest cage. "I pray some of you still live."
He had barely reached halfway when the snoring stopped. Silence. Then two enormous crimson eyes slowly opened. The giant Rakshasa stared directly at Karna. Its brows furrowed.
"A human…? No… How did you escape the cage?"
Karna calmly turned toward him. "I was never inside one. I came here… to free them."
The Rakshasa's eyes widened. Then it burst into furious laughter. "Preposterous!" Its roar shook the entire chamber. "You dare enter my home and steal my food? You shall become my next meal!"
Without hesitation, Karna raised Vijaya dhanush. A celestial arrow materialized upon the bowstring. The bow hummed. The arrow shot forward. Like a streak of sunlight, it struck the Rakshasa squarely in the chest.
Then something impossible happened. The divine arrow shattered into countless particles of light. It disappeared without leaving even the smallest wound.
The cave fell silent.
Karna remained standing where he was, his gaze fixed upon the gigantic Rakshasa before him while the countless thoughts racing through his mind slowly settled into one impossible realization.
Only yesterday, a single celestial arrow released from Vijaya had pierced through the illusion of a Yakshini, followed her invisible form through an entire cavern, and struck her without the slightest deviation.
Such arrows did not simply fly; they sought their target until their purpose was fulfilled.
Yet the same celestial arrow had struck this Rakshasa squarely upon the chest.
Instead of piercing flesh, it had dissolved—not shattered against something harder than steel, not deflected, but simply disappeared, as though the divine energy contained within it had never existed.
Karna's brows slowly furrowed. "Impossible."