Chapter 71 - 69: Devara Meets Kamsa In The Battle...
(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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Meanwhile on Devara’s side...
The battlefield did not warn him as he was moving forward.
It struck.
A flash—A spear of blazing energy tore through the air.
And in the next instant—Devara’s chariot exploded.
-BAM!!!
Wood shattered. Metal screamed.
Flames burst outward.
But Devara was already gone.
Mid-air—Twisting—Landing cleanly amidst dust and debris.
His eyes locked instantly. Not on the destruction.
On the source.
A figure descended—A general. A spear wielder.
Rakshasa Not ordinary.
Fast. Too fast.
Before the dust even settled—It moved faster. A blur. Leaving behind An afterimage.
The spear drove forward—Aimed straight at Devara’s back.
No hesitation. No wasted motion.
But—Before impact—Golden light erupted.
-FLASSSHHH!!!
"...."
Parvati Kavach.
It formed instantly as soon as sensed the attack.
The spear struck—And stopped.
As if the air itself had hardened.
-CLANG!
The impact rang out—But did not break through.
The Rakshasa’s eyes widened—Just slightly Suprised by the sudden appearance of an armor on his enemies body.
That moment—Was enough.
Devara turned twisting his body.
No pause. No hesitation.
His hand moved—Summoning Rudhirabhra.
The axe appeared in his hand—And cut through the air.
A single arc through the air.
Fast. Lethal.
The Rakshasa barely avoided it.
The edge passed—A breath away from its neck.
Wind from the strike alone—Cut strands of its hair.
It slid back—Landing lightly. Now facing him.
No more surprise. No more testing.
Only awareness.
Because this—Was not prey.
This was something else.
Devara stood still.
Dust settling around him.
Golden aura fading slowly.
Blade steady in his hand.
Eyes locked onto the general.
Because now—This was no longer about advancing.
No longer about formation.
This—Was a duel.
And both of them knew—Only one would walk away from it.
The Rakshasa reset his stance—Weight low.
Spear angled for the perfect moment.
He was fast. He knew he was fast.
Which is why—He never saw it.
Devara moved faster than him.
Not forward. Not sideways.
Through.
A flash happened—A step forward with a swing from Devara—
A strike which the Rakshasa never expected from that angle.
Rudhirabhra buried itself into the Rakshasa’s chest.
Clean. Direct.
The impact stole the breath from his lungs—A wet gasp—Blood spilling from his mouth.
"...."
-GASP!
His body jerked forward—Dragged—Toward Devara.
Toward the outstretched hand that did not tremble.
The spear slipped from his grip.
-CLANG!
His eyes widened—Not in pain. In disbelief.
"...Faster..."
Too late.
Devara pulled. The axe tore free from his chest.
Blood followed.
And in the same motion—His leg rose—
-THUD.
A kick. Not wild. Precise with angle where the rakshasa needs to go.
The Rakshasa’s body flew—Straight back.
Into the burning wreckage of the shattered chariot.
Flames welcomed him.
The impact crushed what little strength remained.
His body twitched—Once. Then stilled. As he died on that spot
The fire consumed the rest.
Devara didn’t look again.
"...."
Didn’t confirm. Didn’t need to.
He turned. Already moving towards the chariot of his enemy who attacked him and cut off the Madura’s kingdom flag on top of it.
Preparing to ride it.
Because for him—That wasn’t victory.
That was delay removed.
Ahead—The battlefield still raged.
And deeper—Closer to the center—Kamsa waited for him to arrive.
The battlefield narrowed.
Not in space—In focus.
Because at last—The path ended as Devara as finally arrived at the middle of the enemy army.
At him.
Kamsa where he was present.
Standing amidst shattered elephants and broken ranks—A storm given flesh.
Devara’s chariot surged forward—His army close behind—But they slowed.
Because what stood ahead—Was not something men rushed blindly toward.
Kamsa saw Devara as soon as he broke through the lines.
And smiled. Then—He moved not even wasting a second late.
He lifted an elephant which is already dead.
Not strained. Not struggling since it was lifeless.
Lifted easily like it was nothing. And hurled it.
The massive body tore through the air—A falling mountain.
Straight toward Devara.
Intending to crush him with the weight of the war elephant which is several times stronger and taller than the normal one.
The soldiers behind him froze—But Devara did not panic at all.
His
His hand moved—And the Pinakodanda bow appeared.
The bowstring pulled—But no arrow came.
Instead—A field formed protectively before his chariot.
A yogic energy barrier. The same one he summoned at the Naga Lokh.
The elephant struck it—And stopped by the barrier.
Not slowed. Stopped.
The impact rippled outward like it has came in contact with a water—
-BAM!
Air bending—Ground trembling by the size of the body of war elephant which fell to the ground—But the shield held without any problem.
Devara’s grip didn’t shift.
His stance didn’t falter.
For a moment—It looked like time itself had paused.
"...."
"...."
"...."
A dead elephant—Frozen mid-air.
Held by will alone.
But King Kamsa—Was already moving to give time for his enemy.
He leapt.
From behind the falling mass of elephant which he had just threw—Using it as a step.
Closing the distance in a single bound. And struck.
His mace collided with the barrier—BOOOOM!!!
The field rippled violently—Shockwaves spreading across its surface—But it did not break.
Not even a crack.
Devara’s eyes lifted as he holded his bow firmly.
And met the gaze of Kamsa who was looking at him back.
Kamsa grinned seeing Devara taking his attack.
-Grin!
"...."
Wide. Wild. As Kamsa began to release all his killing intent he was holding now.
Satisfied that Devara could give him some fight.
"...Good."
Because this—Was what he had been waiting for.
Not soldiers. Not formations.
A challenge which he coul crush with his own hands.
Between them—The frozen elephant still hung.
Between force and control. Between destruction and restraint.
And in that suspended moment—The real battle—Finally began as the two main pillars were about to confront face to face.
The battlefield seemed to dim around them—As if everything else understood it no longer mattered.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Devara stepped forward. And pointed. Straight at King Kamsa
"You."
No title. No ceremony.
"My enemy."
The words landed—And something unseen shifted.
Vali’s boon activated.
A pull.
Half of Kamsa’s strength—Tore free.
And flowed—Into Devara.
Not gently. Like a current that recognized a claim.
Kamsa’s grin twitched.
-Grin!
"...So that’s how it is. You somehow get stronger as you face strong enemies right?"
Devara didn’t respond. The bow vanished from his hands.
"...."
And in its place—Amba-Tejas appeared.
Twin blades. Alive with restrained fire.
He stepped down from the chariot.
Feet touching the battlefield—Not as a commander now.
As a warrior who was about to face a enemy who he needs to defeat no matter what.
They circled around not letting the guard down even a bit.
Slowly. Not cautious.
Measuring each other. Weight. Breath.
Intent of when to strike.
Devara waited without any hurry to attack.
Because patience—Was also a weapon in a battle. The one who will win the most of the fight is who keeps his composure and patience well.
Meanwhile King Kamsa—Did not share that philosophy.
His patience snapped seeing his enemy was not making the first move.
"...."
He moved without any hesitation.
A leap to gain momentum—A swing at Devara’s face—The mace came down. Carrying everything.
Force enough to crush elephants.
To flatten armies. To end the life in a single swing.
Which shows Kamsa’s intention clearly to end the battle as soon as possible.
And Devara met it—With one blade.
-CLANG!!!
The impact exploded outward.
Shockwaves tore across the battlefield.
The ground—Cracked like a spider web.
Spreading for kilometers.
Dust rose in violent waves.
-WHOOSH!!!
Nearby soldiers were thrown off balance.
Elephants stumbled by the sudden shift in the ground.
Even the air—Seemed to split.
But at the center—Devara stood. Unmoved. He had withstood the attack which was meant to kill.
His sword held firm.
Not strained. Not pushed back.
Simply—Holding.
Kamsa’s eyes narrowed.
Feeling like he was hiting a unbreakable rock.
Because that—Was not resistance.
That was equivalence or even more that Devara might be now stronger then him in physical battle.
And then—Something more.
Because Devara didn’t stop at blocking.
His second blade lifted slightly.
Not rushed. Not desperate.
Ready to strike at the opening in the defence of the Kamsa.
Kamsa slipped back—just in time.
Devara’s second blade sliced through empty air—Close enough to whisper against ribs that were no longer there.
-SWISH!
For a heartbeat—Nothing moved.
Then—Something changed.
Not outside.
Inside.
The swords in Devara’s hands pulsed.
Amba-Tejas.
They had recognized.
A resonance.
Not of power alone—Of judgment Of the man who was facing their master.
Kamsa’s past...
His choices...
His cruelty toward women—Had not gone unnoticed.
The blades reacted. Heat rose through it.
Then climbed all over the blades. Then roared.
Flames curled along the edges.
Lightning snapped across the metal like a caged storm finally freed.
-CRACK! -CRACK!
Devara felt it. Clear. Precise.
Not rage. Alignment.
A quiet system within him whispered in his mind—
[Condition fulfilled.]
[Karma Resonance activated...]
The swords grew heavier—Not in weight—In consequence of the past actions of Kamsa.
Each second now—Would matter.
Each moment—Would judge.
Devara smiled at Kamsa who was looking at him back with the cold look.
Not wide. Not arrogant. Just... certain that Kamsa is going to have a hard time.
Across from him—Kamsa noticed it.
The shift. The heat in the air.
The crackle beneath silence.
"...What is that?"
Feeling the killing intent coming from the swords Devara was holding Kamsa asked curiously.
For the first time—A question.
Devara stepped forward.
The ground beneath his feet scorched faintly.
"Something you earned."
The words landed quietly. But carried weight.
Because now—This was no longer just a duel of strength.
It was judgment.
Kamsa’s grin returned—But thinner. Sharper.
-Grin!
"Then come."
He lifted his mace again.
This time—With intent sharpened by something new he was going to crush the boy before him no matter what.
Not just to crush—To prove.
Lightning cracked along Devara’s blades.
Fire followed.
The air between them distorted—As if reality itself hesitated.
And then—They moved again.
But this time—Every second that passed—Would make the blades... Hungrier and grew stronger.
Time tilted...
Kamsa felt it first.
Not in his eyes—In his bones.
Each clash—Heavier. Each exchange—Sharper.
Devara was not just keeping up.
He was growing. Stronger. Faster.
With every passing moment.
Kamsa’s eyes narrowed.
"...So it’s true."
No more testing. No more pacing.
He acted.
The mace left his hand—Spinning like a falling star—Straight at Devara.
And in the same breath—Kamsa stepped back—His hand summoning something darker.
A twisted blade formed—Edges branching like fangs. Points layered over points.
He named it—
"Kaalashankha Astra."
A sword that did not strike—It hunted. He hurled it towards his target.
Devara moved instantly—Sideways—The mace missed just by a inch.
The Astra followed after.
Not falling. Tracking its target.
Devara’s eyes sharpened—He responded as soon as he saw how the astra was following him.
"...."
One blade left his hand—Amba-Tejas spinning forward—
CLASH.
The collision—Exploded.
-BAM!!!
A violent burst of fire and lightning tore the air apart.
The Astra shattered—Its energy dispersing into nothing.
And the sword—Returned. Back to Devara’s hand.
But—That moment—Was all Kamsa needed which was also his plan.
His mace—Already back in his grip using the distraction—
Came down aiming at the weak spot—
-CRACK!
It struck Devara’s back leg.
The force sent him down—Knee hitting earth—Ground splitting beneath him.
Kamsa didn’t hesitate.
He leapt into the air.
Mace raised high—Everything—Poured into that strike.
Enough to end it. Enough to crush him where he knelt.
But Devara—Moved. Sideways. Just enough.
The mace struck the ground instead missing his head.
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(Author note:)
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