(A/N):

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Soon the panic spread faster than fire.

Another tribesman turned to flee.

Before he managed three steps... Something grabbed his ankle.

He screamed as he was violently dragged backward into the darkness.

His desperate cries echoed through the tunnel.

"Help me!"

"Please!"

"I don’t want to die!"

The others instinctively rushed toward the sound.

They arrived only moments later.

Nothing remained.

Only a trail of fresh blood disappearing into the shadows.

The eerie whistle began again.

Closer this time. Almost beside them.

One tribesman spun around wildly, swinging his spear at empty air.

Another hacked his axe into the darkness.

Nothing.

Their weapons struck only stone.

Then...

A hand emerged from the darkness behind another warrior.

It covered his mouth.

A second hand drove a blade cleanly through his chest before dragging him backward.

His muffled scream lasted only a heartbeat.

By the time the others turned...

He was gone.

Only fresh blood stained the tunnel floor.

The survivors no longer resembled warriors.

They had become frightened animals.

Each death shattered what little courage remained.

One dropped his weapon entirely.

Another stumbled over the body of his companion.

Several abandoned the defensive formation without thinking.

The unseen hunter never gave them a chance to recover.

Every few moments...

Another scream echoed through the tunnel.

Then silence.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Another body. Then another.

Some died without ever seeing their attacker.

Others caught only the briefest glimpse.

A terrifying face hidden behind a grotesque mask.

Two glowing green eyes watching them calmly.

Then darkness. Then death.

The laughter never stopped.

It followed them through the tunnels.

Sometimes ahead of them. Sometimes behind.

Sometimes so close that it sounded beside their ears.

"Hehehe..."

"Heh..."

It was no longer laughter.

To the fleeing tribesmen... It had become the sound of death itself.

Completely abandoning their mission, the remaining survivors sprinted toward the tunnel leading back to the surface.

They no longer cared about Princess Indhumati.

Nor the child. Nor Pushpasura’s orders.

They wanted only one thing.

To escape.

One by one...

Their numbers continued shrinking.

A scream would echo.

A body would fall.

Another voice would disappear forever.

By the time daylight finally became visible at the end of the tunnel...

Only one tribesman remained alive.

His clothes were soaked with sweat.

Blood, most of it belonging to his companions, stained his body.

His eyes had completely lost their focus.

"...."

Without daring to look behind him, he burst out of the hidden entrance and stumbled into the Flower Forest.

Branches tore at his clothes as he ran blindly through the trees.

He didn’t stop.

He didn’t even think.

He simply ran.

Behind him...

The underground passage had fallen silent once again.

The lone survivor continued screaming at the top of his lungs as he fled through the forest.

"Rakshasa!"

"Rakshasa!"

"There’s a Rakshasa!"

His terrified cries echoed across the Flower Forest, frightening birds into flight.

Yet even after putting hundreds of meters between himself and the hidden tunnel...

He never once gathered the courage to look back.

He was convinced...

If he did...

Those terrifying green eyes would already be staring into his own.

The underground tunnel had finally fallen silent.

Only moments ago, it had been filled with desperate screams, clashing weapons, and terrified cries of "Rakshasa."

Now...

Nothing remained except the faint crackling of dying torches and the slow dripping of water from the cave ceiling.

Princess Indhumati lay exactly where the tribesmen had abandoned her.

Although her heart was pounding violently against her chest, she didn’t dare move.

She had heard everything.

The screams.

The laughter.

The sound of bones breaking.

The desperate cries of warriors begging for their lives.

Then...

Silence.

"...."

"...."

"...."

An even more terrifying silence.

’What... happened?’

She wanted to open her eyes.

She wanted to know whether those men had truly been wiped out.

But fear kept her still.

If the one responsible really was a Rakshasa...

Then opening her eyes at the wrong moment might be the last thing she ever did.

Keeping her breathing as steady as possible, she silently prayed within her heart.

’Lord Vishnu... If this truly is the end... Please protect me...’

’And if not me... At least protect the child.’

Just then... She heard footsteps.

Slow. Unhurried.

Unlike the frantic running of the tribesmen earlier, these footsteps carried an almost casual rhythm.

Thud... Thud...

Thud...

Each step echoed clearly through the empty passage.

The sound stopped beside her.

Indhumati’s entire body stiffened.

"...."

She could feel someone’s presence standing over her.

She resisted every instinct telling her to open her eyes.

’Don’t move... Don’t let it know you’re awake...’

For several long seconds...

Nothing happened.

Then she felt a hand grasp the wooden pole that had been threaded through the ropes binding her wrists and ankles.

With a gentle tug...

The pole slid free.

The ropes still restrained her hands and feet, but she was no longer suspended from it.

A moment later...

Strong arms effortlessly lifted her from the cold stone floor.

Before she realized what was happening, she found herself resting across someone’s shoulder.

She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from reacting.

’Stay calm... Stay unconscious...’

Her curiosity finally became stronger than her fear.

Very carefully...

She opened one eye the smallest amount possible.

The sight before her made her breath catch.

"...."

The tunnel... Looked like a battlefield.

Bodies lay scattered across the stone floor.

Some still clutched broken weapons.

Others had collapsed where they had tried to flee.

Dark pools of blood stretched across the uneven ground, while several torches lay extinguished beside the fallen warriors.

It wasn’t a battle.

It was a massacre.

Not one tribesman remained standing.

Her eyes slowly moved upward toward the person carrying her.

She couldn’t see his face clearly.

From her position over his shoulder, only part of his dark clothing and the broad outline of his back were visible.

His movements were calm.

Composed.

Almost as though carrying two people through an underground tunnel required no effort whatsoever.

Without saying a single word, the mysterious figure walked toward the unconscious child.

He crouched slightly.

With one smooth motion, he lifted the boy using his free arm and settled him over his opposite shoulder.

Now carrying both captives with astonishing ease...

He straightened once again.

Not once did his breathing become heavier.

Not once did he hesitate.

He simply turned around.

Instead of following the direction in which the tribesmen had intended to travel...

He began walking back the way they had originally come.

Toward the hidden entrance leading out of the underground tunnels.

Princess Indhumati quietly watched from the corner of her eye.

’Who... Who is this person?’

She searched desperately for some clue.

A weapon.

A crest.

Anything.

Then...

She noticed something unusual.

There wasn’t a single drop of blood on the man’s clothes.

Despite the carnage surrounding them...

His garments appeared almost untouched.

As though he had walked through death itself without allowing even a single stain to reach him.

The only sound inside the tunnel was the steady rhythm of his footsteps.

Thud...

Thud...

Thud...

For reasons she couldn’t explain...

The fear that had gripped her moments earlier slowly began to fade.

She still had no idea who this mysterious figure was.

She still couldn’t be certain whether he was friend or foe.

Yet...

Something about the calm way he carried both her and the child made her feel strangely... safe.

Without realizing it, the death grip she had maintained on the ropes binding her wrists slowly relaxed.

Even so...

She continued pretending to be unconscious.

For now...

She wanted to know exactly where this mysterious savior was taking them.

The underground passage eventually gave way to fresh air.

A narrow stone staircase emerged from beneath a curtain of flowering vines, opening into a secluded clearing deep within the Flower Forest.

Moonlight filtered through the dense canopy above, bathing the clearing in a gentle silver glow.

Countless flowers swayed with the evening breeze, their fragrance washing away the suffocating scent of blood and damp stone that had lingered within the tunnels.

Without saying a word, the masked stranger continued walking.

Princess Indhumati remained draped over one shoulder, while the unconscious child rested upon the other as though neither of them weighed anything at all.

He moved through the forest with remarkable familiarity.

Not once did he hesitate.

Not once did he stop to search for a path.

It was as if the forest itself was guiding him.

From the corner of her eye, Indhumati secretly watched him.

’Where is he taking us?’

The question repeated itself over and over inside her mind.

After walking for several minutes, the mysterious man finally entered another small clearing surrounded by tall flowering trees.

He slowly lowered the young boy onto a patch of soft grass.

Then he gently lifted Princess Indhumati from his shoulder and placed her beside the child.

Even after setting her down...

She continued pretending to be unconscious.

Her breathing remained slow.

Her eyelids stayed shut.

’Don’t move... Perhaps he’ll simply leave...’

She listened carefully.

The stranger took two quiet steps away.

Then...

His calm voice broke the silence.

"You can stop pretending."

Princess Indhumati’s heart skipped a beat.

She remained perfectly still.

"...."

Perhaps... Perhaps he was merely testing her.

The stranger gave a quiet sigh.

"I’ve known you were awake since the underground tunnel."

Silence.

"...."

"...."

"...."

"You should practice your acting."

"It needs improvement."

For several long seconds...

Neither of them moved.

A warm blush slowly spread across Indhumati’s cheeks.

’He... knew?’

She suddenly wished the earth would open beneath her feet and swallow her whole.

She had spent all that time convincing herself she was fooling him...

Only to discover that he had seen through her from the very beginning.

Unable to continue the act any longer, she slowly opened her eyes.

A faint shade of pink colored her face as she sat up, avoiding the stranger’s gaze out of sheer embarrassment.

"...You knew?"

The masked man simply looked at her.

Those strange green eyes met hers for only a brief moment.

There was no mockery in them.

No arrogance.

Only quiet amusement.

Something about those eyes...

Made her pause.

They felt... Familiar.

Before she could place where she had seen them before, a cool breeze swept across the clearing.

Flower petals were carried into the air, dancing around the two of them like tiny drifting butterflies.

For an instant...

The petals passed between them.

When her vision cleared again...

The masked man had already turned away.

He began walking deeper into the Flower Forest without the slightest intention of staying behind for thanks.

"Wait!"

Indhumati called instinctively.

The stranger didn’t stop.

She hurriedly took a step forward.

"I haven’t even thanked you!"

Still...

He continued walking.

The distance between them slowly increased.

Moonlight filtered through the trees, illuminating only his retreating figure.

As she watched him disappear among the flowers, another breeze swept through the clearing.

His cloak shifted slightly.

Once again...

She caught sight of those vivid green eyes.

Her thoughts immediately drifted elsewhere.

Green eyes... A calm smile.

A merchant who always seemed far too composed for an ordinary traveler.

Merchant Deva.

The resemblance struck her so suddenly that she found herself staring blankly at the disappearing figure.

’No...’

She whispered to herself.

’It can’t be...’

Before she could think any further, the stranger vanished beyond the curtain of flowers as though the forest itself had swallowed him.

Only the drifting petals remained.

Princess Indhumati stood silently for several moments, staring toward the place where he had disappeared.

Then something felt... different.

She looked down.

Her wrists.

The ropes were gone.

Her ankles. Also free.

Only then did she realize that the bindings had already been cut.

The ropes still rested loosely around her hands and feet, sliced so cleanly that she hadn’t even felt the blade pass through them.

She blinked in surprise.

-Blink!

’When did he...?’

She couldn’t remember him drawing a weapon.

She couldn’t remember him touching the ropes at all.

Yet somehow...

She had been freed without noticing a single movement.

For the first time that night, Princess Indhumati smiled faintly.

"What a strange man..."

She glanced once more toward the sea of flowers where the mysterious stranger had disappeared.

"...Merchant Deva..."

The name escaped her lips almost unconsciously.

Then she shook her head with a helpless laugh.

"What am I thinking?"

"There are plenty of people with green eyes."

Even as she tried to convince herself...

A small voice deep within her heart stubbornly refused to agree.

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(Author note:)

I hope you guys give me your opinion and idea’s.

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Guys I have a new fic which named: Karuppan: King of Openings.