(A/N):

Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.

Guys I hope you put more comments and power stones... Which will encourage me...

Guys we are about to reach this volume end... Which is obviously Pushpasura awakens...

Any suggestion how many Chapters Can the fight between the two can go.

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Vikrama Varman walked back toward his private pavilion at an unhurried pace.

Anyone who saw him along the way would have believed the Mahamantri had simply finished meeting the queen.

He greeted passing officers with his usual calm smile.

He exchanged a few polite words with several ministers.

Not once did his expression betray what lay hidden beneath the sleeve of his robe.

Only after he reached his own pavilion did he allow the smile to fade.

The guards stationed outside immediately straightened.

"My Lord."

Vikrama gave a slight nod before stepping inside.

The entrance flap closed behind him.

For a long moment, he simply stood in silence.

Then...

He slowly raised his right hand.

Upon his finger rested the same ring that had accidentally grazed Princess Indhumati’s hand.

The crimson gemstone embedded within it gleamed faintly beneath the lantern light.

Inside the tiny grooves surrounding the crystal...

A few droplets of blood had been carefully trapped.

Princess Indhumati’s blood.

A faint smile spread across Vikrama’s face.

"It worked..."

he murmured quietly.

"The risk was worth it."

He carefully removed the ring and placed it upon the wooden table before him.

His fingers gently traced the edge of the gemstone.

Everything that had happened outside the queen’s pavilion had appeared completely accidental.

The rushing guard.

The collision. The stumble.

The small cut.

Even his immediate apology.

Every detail had been rehearsed.

The guard who had bumped into him was one of his own loyal men.

Nothing had been left to chance.

The only uncertainty had been whether the princess would arrive at the right moment.

For nearly two hours, Vikrama had remained close to the queen’s pavilion, patiently waiting.

Twice he had nearly abandoned the plan.

Then, just as he was beginning to lose patience...

Princess Indhumati had finally appeared, accompanied by Merchant Deva.

The opportunity had presented itself.

And he had taken it.

The princess’s security had become almost impossible to breach after the kidnapping.

Royal guards surrounded her at every moment.

Her attendants rarely left her side.

Even attempting to approach her alone would have attracted suspicion.

There would not be a better opportunity.

Not for a long time.

Vikrama slowly folded the bloodstained handkerchief and placed it beside the ring.

His eyes lingered upon the faint crimson stain.

"So much effort..."

he whispered.

"...for a single drop."

Yet he knew.

Sometimes...

A single drop was enough to change the fate of a kingdom.

A knock came from outside the pavilion.

"My Lord."

The familiar voice belonged to the same guard who had staged the earlier collision.

Vikrama’s expression immediately returned to its usual calm.

"Enter."

The guard stepped inside before respectfully lowering his head.

"My Lord, everything has been arranged."

Vikrama nodded once.

"Good."

He looked directly into the man’s eyes.

"From this moment onward... no one enters this pavilion."

"No matter who it is."

"If anyone asks... inform them that I am occupied with confidential state matters."

The guard struck his fist against his chest.

"It shall be done."

Without another word, he stepped back outside.

Moments later, the sound of additional soldiers taking up positions around the pavilion could be heard.

Anyone approaching would now be turned away.

Satisfied, Vikrama walked toward the rear section of the tent.

There, concealed behind several hanging carpets, lay a hidden compartment.

He pulled one of the carpets aside.

A narrow entrance revealed itself.

Waiting beyond it...

Were several tribesmen.

Unlike those who had attacked the princess earlier, these men wore long ceremonial robes woven from dark fibers instead of armor.

Strange markings covered their faces.

Bone necklaces rested upon their chests.

Each carried a small pouch filled with dried herbs, powders, and carved wooden talismans.

The eldest among them stepped forward before bowing respectfully.

"The preparations are complete."

Vikrama silently handed him the ring.

"...."

The old tribesman carefully accepted it with both hands.

His aged eyes immediately settled upon the crimson gemstone.

A satisfied gleam appeared within them.

"The offering..."

he whispered.

"...has been obtained."

The remaining tribesmen exchanged quiet smiles.

One by one, they entered the hidden chamber beyond the partition.

Stone lamps already burned within, casting long shadows across the room.

At its center...

An intricate ritual circle had been carved into the floor long ago.

Its surface was filled with ancient symbols that seemed almost alive beneath the flickering light.

The elder carefully placed the ring upon a small stone altar positioned at the heart of the circle.

He closed his eyes.

"This ritual cannot be interrupted."

Vikrama stood at the edge of the chamber, his expression unreadable.

"Then begin."

The old tribesman slowly nodded.

"The blood has been offered."

"The gateway may now be opened."

The chamber fell silent as the tribesmen took their places around the ancient markings which had already been prepared, each preparing for a ritual that had been waiting years for the final ingredient.

"...."

"...."

"...."

The chamber was illuminated only by rows of oil lamps whose flames flickered without any wind.

The elderly tribesmen stood around the ancient ritual circle, each occupying a carefully chosen position.

Their eyes remained shut as they chanted in a language that had long disappeared from the kingdoms of men.

Their voices rose and fell in perfect rhythm.

The strange syllables echoed throughout the chamber, making the air itself seem heavier with every passing moment.

At the center of the ritual circle rested the ring.

The crimson gemstone still held the tiny droplets of Princess Indhumati’s blood.

As the chanting continued, the blood began to glow ever so faintly.

Thin strands of crimson light slowly spread across the engraved lines carved into the stone floor, connecting one ancient symbol to another.

Vikrama watched the sight with unconcealed excitement.

"...."

His hands slowly tightened behind his back.

’It’s working... After all these years... It’s finally working.’

His breathing grew heavier.

For years he had hidden behind the smiling face of a loyal younger brother.

For years he had bowed before the very throne he believed should have belonged to him.

Every humiliation... Every compromise... Every sacrifice...

He had endured them all for this single moment.

Pushpasura had never broken his promise before.

Years ago, when Vikrama had wished to become king, the Asura had answered.

The miracle had happened exactly as foretold.

It had lasted only ten minutes because his offering had been insufficient.

That single event had erased every doubt from Vikrama’s heart.

From that day onward, his faith had never wavered.

"If my lord answered such a small offering..."

he muttered to himself,

"...then a greater offering will surely bring a far greater reward."

His eyes remained fixed upon the glowing ritual circle.

"A Rakshasa powerful enough to challenge even the gods..."

A smile slowly spread across his face.

"Once I possess such a servant... no kingdom will stand against me."

The chanting grew louder.

The crimson light flowing through the ritual markings intensified.

One of the tribesmen opened his eyes and spoke in a trembling voice.

"My Lord..."

"We’re reaching the final invocation."

Vikrama slowly nodded.

"Do not stop. No matter what happens... complete the ritual."

At that very moment...

Inside Queen Devayani’s pavilion...

The atmosphere couldn’t have been more different.

Sunlight filtered gently through the embroidered curtains as servants quietly moved about, placing refreshments upon low tables.

Queen Devayani sat gracefully upon her seat while Princess Indhumati remained beside her.

The Crown Prince listened with mild curiosity from a nearby chair.

Standing before them was Devara.

His posture remained respectful as always.

The Queen smiled warmly.

"Merchant Deva."

"There is something I have been wishing to discuss with you."

Devara folded his hands.

"I am listening, Your Majesty."

She glanced briefly toward her daughter before speaking.

"Ever since seeing the craftsmanship of Trivenivrata... and hearing you describe your homeland..."

"I have become quite interested in visiting it."

Devara blinked hearing her.

"You wish to visit Trivenivrata?"

The Queen nodded.

"My husband and I have spoken about it."

"After everything that has happened..."

Her eyes softened as she looked toward Princess Indhumati.

"My daughter has endured far more than any mother wishes her child to experience."

"A change of surroundings may help her."

She smiled gently.

"I also believe my son would enjoy seeing another kingdom."

The Crown Prince immediately nodded enthusiastically who entered the tent.

"I’ve heard the markets there are incredible."

"And the craftsmen are unmatched."

The Queen chuckled before turning back toward Devara.

"Naturally, we shall send a formal diplomatic request through the proper channels."

"I would never dream of arriving without permission."

She paused.

"But before making such arrangements... I wished to ask someone who actually comes from there."

Her gaze rested upon Devara.

"Would such a visit be safe?"

"Would your kingdom welcome us?"

For the first time in quite a while...

Devara found himself genuinely caught off guard.

’A Mother wants to visit... My own kingdom. To give a breather for her daughter...’

He kept his surprise hidden behind a polite smile.

"It would be an honor, Your Majesty."

"Our people deeply respect distinguished guests."

"I have no doubt your visit would be warmly received."

The Queen looked visibly pleased.

"That is reassuring."

Devara inclined his head.

"I shall gladly assist however I can."

Just then...

The entrance curtain opened.

Shakuni entered carrying a large cloth sack over one shoulder.

Seeing him, Devara almost smiled.

’Finally...’

The Queen looked toward the minister disguised as another merchant.

"I had one of the guards bring your companion."

"When you arrived earlier, you came empty-handed."

"I assumed the jewelry remained with him."

Shakuni respectfully lowered the sack onto the table.

"Your Majesty’s assumption was correct."

He untied the rope securing the bag.

"If it pleases Your Majesty..."

"I have brought several additional pieces."

The Queen’s companions immediately leaned forward with interest.

Even Princess Indhumati’s attention shifted toward the jewelry.

Shakuni reached into the sack.

Just as his fingers touched the first ornament...

Princess Indhumati suddenly frowned.

"...Hmm?"

A strange sensation washed over her.

The lively voices inside the pavilion seemed to grow distant.

Almost muffled.

She instinctively pressed a hand against her temple.

For the briefest moment...

She thought she heard laughter.

Not ordinary laughter.

It was low...

Mocking...

As though someone stood just beyond her reach, quietly amused by something only they could see.

"Heh..."

The faint sound echoed inside her ears.

Princess Indhumati slowly looked around the pavilion.

"...."

Everyone appeared completely normal.

The Queen continued speaking with Devara.

The Crown Prince examined the jewelry with curiosity.

Shakuni was carefully removing another necklace from the sack.

None of them reacted.

’Did... no one else hear that?’

The strange laughter came again.

Softer this time.

Yet somehow...

Closer.

A sudden wave of dizziness struck her without warning.

The room tilted ever so slightly.

Her vision blurred for a heartbeat before returning to normal.

She instinctively reached for the armrest beside her to steady herself.

The smile gradually disappeared from Devara’s face.

Without anyone else noticing...

His sharp senses caught the subtle change in the princess’s breathing.

His emerald-green eyes quietly shifted toward her.

Something... Was wrong he could tell by the way the princess breath become heavy.

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(Author note:)

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

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Don’t forget to review guys...

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