The jungle's breath still clung to his throat—cold, sharp, and reeking of blood.
Then, suddenly, the wind stopped. The leaves froze mid-rustle.
A hazy figure appeared right in front of Adarsh. Not black, not white—just a deep, thick shadow. Its form was so blurred it looked as if the night itself had shaped into a human silhouette. It didn't even raise a hand. Yet the venomous black claw of that mystical beast froze in mid-air. With one brutal motion, the creature's massive body was torn in two. Warm, sticky drops of blood splattered across Adarsh's face.
Then silence. A silence so deep it felt like his ears would burst.
His eyes fluttered open.
The same old room.
The wooden floor was cold, biting into his soles. Old sword marks scarred the walls—faint bloodstains still lingered in some corners. A thin, pale beam of moonlight slipped through the window and lay quietly on the floor, like an old memory slowly breathing.
But inside his mind, a storm of questions raged.
How am I alive? Who was that shadow? Was it real… or just the last hallucination before death?
He tried to stand, stumbling. His knees felt weak, his head spinning.
"Who… saved me?"
Slow, heavy footsteps approached the door.
A rough, familiar voice echoed—
"Adarsh. You're awake."
The Fifth Elder.
White beard, deep lines carved around his eyes, face hard as stone. His presence filled the room with an invisible weight.
Adarsh's breathing quickened.
"You? How did I get from that jungle… here?"
The Elder stepped inside slowly. His long shadow stretched across the wall like an ancient tale coming to life.
"I was searching for something in the forest. On the way, I saw you—one step away from death. I carried you back. Brought you here."
Adarsh stumbled toward him and dropped to his knees. He bowed, touching the Elder's feet with trembling hands.
"Thank you… I will never be able to repay this debt."
Then he looked up, eyes full of questions.
"But… what were you searching for there?"
The Elder drew a long, heavy breath.
His eyes didn't water, but the pain was unmistakable—old, deep pain.
"Adarsh… I was hunting your mother's killer."
The world stopped for a moment.
Adarsh's face turned ashen. Something inside his chest cracked.
"Mother…?"
"Yes." The Elder nodded slowly.
"And it wasn't an ordinary murder. It was a carefully planned, ruthless conspiracy. The killers belong to an organization called the Blood Shadow Syndicate. Nine merciless assassins. People call them merchants of death. They take contracts and slaughter without mercy. Behind them lies a hidden army—vast and unseen. And their true leader… no one has ever seen his face."
Adarsh's chest felt like it was tearing open.
Memories of his mother flooded in all at once—her laughter when she lifted him in her arms and told him stories, the way she would stroke his forehead at night and whisper, "My son, you will grow up to do great things." The nights she stayed awake when he was sick, placing cool cloths on his forehead, singing softly until he fell asleep.
All of it… gone?
"Our family… the strongest clan in the city. Father, the other elders… they stay in the palace." His voice trembled. "Then how could Mother…?"
Tears came. Something lodged in his throat.
"Where were you all? Why couldn't you protect her?"
The Elder lowered his gaze. Guilt colored his voice.
"That day, a very clever trap was laid. Your father and the senior elders had gone to the famous auction of the Vikram Empire. The Blood Shadow Syndicate used that exact moment. We were all caught in their web."
Adarsh's fists clenched so hard his nails dug into his palms. Thin lines of blood trickled down.
Fire burned in his eyes. Tears fell. Rage. Pain.
"Elder… I want their names. Every single member of the Blood Shadow Syndicate. I will stop their breath. I will avenge my mother."
The Elder looked at him with grave eyes.
"This path is not easy, Adarsh. You are not ready yet. And they are not just nine people—they are only the face. The real power hides behind them. Immense. Utterly dark."
"Even then." There was no hesitation in Adarsh's voice now.
"I will break every wall inside me. Whatever the price—I will pay it."
A faint, sorrowful smile touched the Elder's lips.
"Very well. If your resolve is firm… I cannot help you directly. But I can give you one thing."
He reached into his robe and pulled out an old, torn pouch.
From it, he drew a stone—blue-green, glowing softly from within. Like a tiny star trapped in crystal.
"This is the Ananta Source. The greatest treasure of our lineage. It is passed to the clan head. But until now, no one has fully absorbed its power. Your father said—if anyone ever masters it, that person will become the next head."
Adarsh's breath caught.
"But…" The Elder's voice turned deadly serious.
"The process of absorbing it gives only a one percent chance of survival. It will try to shatter your body, your soul. If you fail… you will be erased. Forever."
Adarsh stared at the stone. Then at the Elder.
His mother's face appeared in his mind—her last smile, the way she looked at him when she said goodbye forever.
"I am ready. To reach my mother's killers, I will even gamble on that one percent."
The Elder nodded slowly.
"Then come. To the Creation Cave."
All along the path, the Elder spoke in a low, grave voice.
"Strength alone is not enough. You need unbreakable will. Your soul must be pure. A weak mind never wins."
When they reached the mouth of the cave, the air turned icy. As if death itself was breathing.
Inside, a strange energy flowed—heavy, mysterious, pressing down on the chest.
In the center stood a massive mantra circle—covered in ancient symbols, radiating a faint blue glow.
"Sit in the center of the circle," the Elder said.
"Focus every fragment of your consciousness on the stone. It will try to destroy you completely. Do not let go of your soul."
Adarsh took a deep breath.
He sat exactly in the middle. Closed his eyes.
The moment he called the Ananta Source into his mind—
Darkness swallowed everything.
A terrifying force plunged into him. Ripping through every vein. Cracking every bone. Striking straight at his soul.
The pain was so intense he screamed.
Then his mother's voice echoed in his memory: "Son, never give up."
Tears streamed down his face. The pain mixed with her memories, becoming one.
Outside, the Elder shouted—
"Strengthen your will! Do not surrender!"
That voice sank into his heart.
For Mother.
He gritted his teeth. Clenched his mind.
The power of the Ananta Source began to flow.
But it could not reach his soul. Every attack broke apart before it could touch.
Suddenly, his body rose into the air.
A blinding light wrapped around him.
His consciousness was dragged into an endless blackness.
All around—only darkness.
Where am I?
Am I… inside the Ananta Source?
He started walking.
He refused to give up.
Far—very far—a palace glowed.
Dangerous. Terrifying.
At the highest dome sat a gigantic skull.
Its eyes burned red.
Adarsh stood before the massive gates of the palace.
The air was freezing. The stones smelled of death.
Above, carved in iron letters, were the words—
Palace of Destruction