Chapter 30 - 28: Announcing The Arrival... Indra’s Frustration...
(A/N):
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Devara raised Pinakodanda bow.
The pond answered sensing the moment.
Water—Rose.
Not splashing. Not flowing.
Ascending.
Gravity loosened its grip on it—As if even the world paused—To watch.
Above the Surface...
At the edge—Lord Parashurama stood still looking at all this silently.
And beside him—Karna stood shocked eyes wide.
"...."
Because the pond—Was raining upward.
Droplets hung mid-air like time as stopped in that moment.
Fish—Suspended like stars.
Karna reached out curiously. Touched one.
-Ripples!!!
It rippled—As if reality itself was unsure.
Inside the pond...
Devara inhaled. Deep. Steady. Then—Pulled the string.
"...."
Energy gathered as he continued to pull the string.
🔴 Red — Destruction
🔵 Blue — Preservation
Swirling. Intertwining. Becoming—A single arrow ready to be released.
Everything stopped in that moment.
Water. Air. Sound. There is a pin drop silence.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Even time—Held its breath.
A voice echoed within him—
"To whom... shall we speak?"
Not a demand. Not a command. A choice.
Hearing it Devara thought. Carefully.
"...."
Not just of power—But respect.
First needs to send the respects to the pervious owners—Lord Shiva
Then—Lord Vishnu
But he didn’t stop.
Because balance—Does not exclude another important part of universe.
Creation.
So he added—Lord Brahma
And their consorts. Goddess Parvati, Goddess Lakshmi, Goddess Saraswati.
A greeting to them—Not of arrogance. But of acknowledgment.
That he had inherited a vast legacies which they came contact with.
His fingers loosened. The string snapped forward.
-DING!
The arrow launched as soon as it was released. A shockwave erupted from the bow.
Water exploded outward—The pond roared.
The mountain trembled by the release.
The arrow tore through the sky—Faster than sight. Faster than thought.
And within a heartbeat—It vanished. Into the heavens.
Across Realms...
Not as destruction. But as a message. A signal. A declaration.
That two of the most powerful bows merged together and formed a new bow for it’s user who had inherited both of their legacies.
This was not an attack if one calmly looks into it.
Not a challenge. Not a threat.
It was a declaration that the two most powerful bows as chosen its wilder and merged together as announced—
"I Have Arrived."
Back at the mountain—Water slowly began to fall again back.
Gravity returned. Like nothing happened.
The arrow did not slow.
It pierced the skies of
And moved beyond.
Through layers unseen. Through barriers untouched.
In Chandraloka, God
Beside his consort—Eyes fixed.
"...."
"...."
The arrow roared past their realm.
Not stopping. Not wavering.
A single thought crossed their minds at the same time—
’Did Indra provoke someone... again?’
Because power like this—Never moved without reason.
In Indraloka, Indra sat uneasy. Wine in hand.
Mind restless.
’This has nothing to do with me...’
Then—A blinding flash.
He turned. And saw it. The astra.
"...."
Descending—Not toward him—But past him.
His face darkened as the astra passes the Indra Lokh.
Because he knew—If something this powerful passed by—It meant—He was not the target.
And that—Was worse. He felt did he was being underestimated by the attackers.
Or this an attack to show the heavens that they don’t even care about the one of the powerful gods Indra.
Showing their dominance.
As he was trying to think why was this astra was launched like this.
What was the purpose of it.
Before his eyes—The arrow split.
One became two. Two became six.
Then—Paired. And each pair—Chose a path.
Two to
They did not strike. They landed.
Softly.
And transformed—Into flowers. Which matched them.
Offerings to them. Greetings with respect.
In all three realms—They understood and smiled as they all witnessed the moment where Devara merged Pinaka and Kodanda into one bow Pinakodanda.
And smiled contentedly.
Blessings flowed—Silent.
Unseen. Unknown by Devara. But received.
Back to the Pond...
The Pinakodanda bow—Vanished.
As if satisfied. Now—To be called by its name when Devara needs its strength.
Not held all the time in his hand.
Around Devara—The serpents stirred again.
But this time—They did not watch.
They gathered together forming a complex bundle which would send shiver down anyone’s spine which they seen it. Merged as if they were a single entity.
Thousands becoming one.
A massive serpent form appeared before Devara which looked at him and hissed then—Condensed. Turned to energy.
And descended—Into his hand.
Its tip resembles the snake which was about to bit down its prey—Revealing fangs.
Sharp. Hungry. Alive.
Then—It vanished from his hands..
[-DUM!-DUM!-]
[New Astra Acquired.]...
🐍 [Name Revealed ⚡ "Sahasra-Visha Sarpa Astra" ⚡
(Thousand Venoms of the Serpent Legion)
☠️ Abilities:
Poison of a thousand serpents combined.
Venom that affects even divine beings.
Can spread through air, water, or weapon contact.
Manifestation: serpent-shaped astral strike Can paralyze, corrode, or erase life force gradually.]
[Origin: Placed here by Lord Parashurama for the one worthy of the either one of the bow.
⚖️ Purpose:
Not to be stolen.
Not to be taken.
But to be acknowledged.]
Devara nodded his head reading through the system panel.
No excitement. No arrogance. As he taken in all the things that had happened today.
Just acceptance.
Then—He turned. And swam upward.
Devara stepped out of the pond.
Water slid off him—Quiet.
"...."
"...."
"...."
But the air—Was not.
Before him stood—Lord Parashurama And Karna looking at him.
Karna’s eyes—Bright. Curious. Almost excited.
Seeing Devara coming out of the pond.
But Lord Parashurama—Still. Heavy. As if weighing something unseen.
Lord Parashurama stepped forward. Voice calm—But firm.
"Why did you enter that pond?"
Devara scratched the back of his head.
-Scratch! -Scratch!
A rare hint of awkwardness.
"I’ve been hearing voices... Since I came to Mahendragiri. But today... They felt heavier. So I followed them."
Lord Parashurama nodded in understanding.
-Nod
"...."
Not shocked. Not confused.
Because somewhere—He had expected this. But no so soon.
Then—He asked his next question which was the important question which he really intended to ask before the previous one.
"Which bow chose you?"
Karna leaned forward instantly.
"Yes! Which one? Wait there are more bows down there..."
Excitement clear hearing Devara got a bow down the pond.
Because even he—Knew the weight of that question.
Devara scratched his head again. Words—Didn’t feel enough.
To explain what has happened with just words.
So instead—He Showed Them
He called loudly for them to hear—
"Pinakodanda."
Hearing the name Lord Parasurama frowned in confusion.
-Frown!
"...."
Light gathered on his hand. Energy condensed.
And before them—It appeared.
Pinakodanda Bow.
A weapon carrying—The presence of Pinaka And Kodanda
Yet neither. And both. At the same time
Karna froze. Mouth slightly open. Eyes wide.
"...."
Looking at the cool bow which was at Devara’s hand.
Because this—Was beyond imagination of any 11 years old boy.
Lord Parashurama’s eyes widened finally in realization of what might have happened and the reason behind the name of the bow.
Not in shock alone—But recognition.
Because he understood—What this meant. Devara has done something which is nearly impossible.
"...."
Devara nodded. Simply.
-Nod!
"Both bows ...merged. Into this."
No wind. No movement. Just stillness.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Because this was not—A student’s achievement.
Something that should not happen—Had happened.
His gaze sharpened. Not at the bow.
But at Devara.
Because now—The question was no longer—
"What did he find?"
But—
"What has he become? By inheriting the wills of the both bows carrying."
A boy stood before his guru—Holding a weapon—That carried the will of gods.
And for the first time—Even the teacher—Had to reconsider the student. Who had done something which is not possible he doubt even he could do it.
Lord Parashurama took a slow breath. Not out of fatigue.
-Sigh!
"...."
But to steady the weight of what he was about to say.
His eyes rested on Devara—Not as a teacher looking at a student.
But as a witness... To something history had never recorded.
His voice came low. Grounded. Unshakable.
"To carry even one of those bows..."
A pause.
"...is to carry the weight of a yug."
His gaze sharpened.
"It grants power to reshape destiny itself."
Then—A deeper tone by the weight in his words.
"But you... you carry both."
He slowly shook his head. Not in denial—But in acknowledgment.
"I do not know... what kind of duty awaits you. But I know this—It will not be easy."
His hand came down—Firmly—On Devara’s shoulder.
"Do not become like Bhishma."
The name lingered. Heavy. With his tone was one of the regret he couldn’t correct on that day.
"Binding yourself to vows... Using strength without seeing the cost... For a cause that may not deserve it."
His eyes softened—Just slightly thinking about the weight the child is going to carry from now on.
Even through he was proud of him. As a guru he was worried to.
Carrying the weight of a yug is not a small thing to do.
"Power without reflection... becomes burden. To oneself and the world."
Devara nodded. Serious. For once—No mischief.
-Nod!
"...."
"I saw them... Their memories."
He spoke—Calmly.
Of Lord Shiva destroying Tripura.
Of Lord Rama lifting the bow. Breaking it.
Of battles. Of choices. Of consequences of those choices.
Parashurama listened patiently with a small smile.
Without interruption. Then nodded.
-Nod!
"Good. You did not just take the weapon... You understood it. And the message I need you to understand."
His tone turned firm again.
"From now on—You must be calm. Every action you take... will ripple through the world. Think. Before you act. Walk in dharma. And do not let anyone bend your path."
For a moment—Silence.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Then—Devara puffed his chest. A spark returning.
"I will!"
The declaration—Bright. Simple.
Almost too simple—For the what future awaits him a ahead.
Lord Parashurama didn’t argue. Didn’t lecture further.
He simply nodded.
-Nod!
"...."
Because some lessons—Cannot be taught. Only lived. And learned through experience.
He turned. Walked away.
But before leaving—His voice echoed back.
"From tomorrow... your archery begins."
In Indraloka, Indra stood unmoving.
His gaze still fixed—On the path the astra had taken.
"...."
To Vaikuntha. To Mount Kailash. To Brahmaloka
None retaliated. No wrath. No divine counterstrike.
Which meant—
"It was not an attack..."
And yet—His fingers tightened. Because that did not comfort him.
It unsettled him.
"...."
If it was an enemy who attacked those places.
Then there will be a angry retaliation
Power—He understood was the. War—He thrived in it.
But unknown power? That was different.
That was—Danger.
His thoughts twisted. Fast. Sharp.
’If it wasn’t an attack... then it was a message. But why there? Why now? And why can’t I see it?’
His divine sight—Failed him. No matter how many times he tries to use it. At Mahendragiri
A place he should easily observe.
Yet—Dark. Sealed. Leaving him blind.
His jaw tightened in frustration.
"Something is being hidden... from me."
And that—Was unacceptable.
Indra stood up.
"...."
Not slowly. Not thoughtfully.
But with resolve born from unease.
"I will see it myself."
Because distance—Was no longer tolerable.
But even as he decided—His mind moved ahead.
Fast. Calculating.
’If it is a threat... Should I eliminate it early? Or observe first? What if it grows beyond control? What if it is meant for me?’
Indra did not wait for certainty.
He prepared for conflict—Even when none existed.
Clouds gathered outside his palace.
Not by nature.
But by will. Because his mind—Was already moving toward war.
Far away—A boy had sent a friendly greeting.
But here—It had been received as a possibility.
And possibility—In the mind of a king like Indra—Was enough to start a storm even through the greeting is not meant to him.
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