Mahabharat: Shiva's Last Variable

(A/N):

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

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The crimson blades in Devara’s hands gleamed beneath the evening sky.

The roots covering the Rakshasas seemed to react instinctively.

Somehow sensing danger.

Tiny sparks began dancing along the edges of the swords.

At first they were almost invisible.

Just small arcs of electricity crawling across the divine blades.

Then more appeared.

And more.

The sparks grew brighter.

Louder.

The air itself began crackling.

The smell of ozone filled the battlefield as soon as the electric arcs grew brighter and brighter.

Even the wind seemed to change.

The Rakshasa leader looked upward.

"...."

Dark clouds had begun gathering above the flower forest.

Not natural clouds. Storm clouds.

Heavy. Dark.

Filled with electricity.

The surviving cultists noticed them as well.

The confidence on their faces slowly began fading.

"...."

"...."

Devara rolled his shoulders.

The lightning surrounding Amba Tejas grew stronger.

Blue-white arcs crawled across his armor.

The ground beneath his feet crackled.

Inside his mind, Amba Tejas practically vibrated with excitement.

The divine sword clearly enjoyed what was coming.

"Devara."

Its voice sounded eager.

"May I cut them apart again?"

A smile appeared on Devara’s face hearing her eager tone to cut down the enemies before him.

"Try not to get carried away. Amba..."

That was all the permission the sword needed.

The next moment, Devara moved once again.

The battlefield exploded into motion.

The first Rakshasa never even saw him coming since he was the closest one to Devara.

One moment it was charging.

The next a crimson flash crossed its body.

Its head separated cleanly from its shoulders.

Before either piece could hit the ground, a bolt of lightning descended from the sky.

The thunderclap shook the battlefield with a blinding light.

The severed remains vanished instantly.

Not burned. Not charred.

Gone.

Reduced to ash.

The yellow blood never touched the soil.

The Rakshasa leader’s eyes widened.

"...."

Seeing this which they had never seen someone deal with them like this

The creature immediately understood the danger.

The blood couldn’t regenerate if there was no blood left.

Devara was already moving again.

A second Rakshasa swung a wooden spear grown from its own arm.

The weapon shot forward like a javelin.

Devara stepped aside effortlessly.

The spear missed by inches.

Show the superiority Devara has over this Rakshasas.

Amba Tejas swept across the creature’s waist.

The body split in half.

A heartbeat later lightning struck.

The remains disappeared before the regeneration process could begin.

Another creature charged from behind.

Then another. Then three more.

Devara met them head-on.

The battlefield transformed into a storm of crimson steel and divine lightning.

Every swing of his swords left glowing trails through the air.

Every strike was followed by thunder.

Heads flew.

Limbs scattered.

Bodies fell.

And every single one was erased before the yellow blood could perform its work.

The Rakshasas began realizing what was happening.

For the first time since their arrival, panic spread among them.

Their greatest advantage had been neutralized.

One of them attempted to retreat.

Amba Tejas flew from Devara’s hand and sliced through its neck before returning to its master’s grip.

Another tried to attack from above.

A lightning bolt struck it directly from the clouds.

The creature exploded into ash before reaching the ground.

The flower field became a battlefield of light.

Thunder rolled continuously overhead.

Ash drifted through the air like gray snow.

The corrupted plants were destroyed.

The yellow blood never had a chance to spread.

One after another, the members of the legion vanished.

Twenty became fifteen.

Fifteen became ten.

Ten became five.

The surviving cultists watched in complete disbelief.

Just minutes ago they had been celebrating.

Laughing.

Certain of victory.

Now they could only stare.

The army they believed unstoppable was being dismantled before their eyes.

Not through overwhelming numbers.

Not through brute force.

But through understanding.

Devara had identified the weakness and exploited it without hesitation.

That realization terrified them far more than his strength.

Meanwhile, the Rakshasa leader stood frozen.

Watching.

Learning.

How scary Devara can be for his enemy.

Its crimson eyes followed Devara’s movements carefully.

Unlike its followers, it wasn’t mindless.

It could think.

And what it was seeing disturbed it deeply.

This wasn’t merely a powerful warrior.

This was someone capable of adapting.

Someone capable of finding weaknesses.

Someone dangerous. Very dangerous.

Soon the battlefield became silent.

The thunder gradually faded.

The final bolt of lightning struck.

The last ordinary Rakshasa disappeared in a burst of ash.

Nothing remained.

Only scorched earth and drifting gray particles.

The legion was gone.

Completely.

Devara slowly lowered one of his swords.

His breathing remained calm.

His expression unchanged.

As though eliminating an army of regenerating monsters was merely another task on a long list of inconveniences.

Across from him, the leader remained standing.

Alone.

The roots covering its body began moving violently.

Almost as if responding to its anger.

The creature’s muscles expanded.

The wooden growths covering its body thickened.

Stone-like armor spread across its chest and shoulders.

The ground trembled beneath its feet.

Then, from its four arms, massive stone maces emerged.

The weapons seemed to grow directly from its body.

Roots intertwined with rock.

Creating something that looked ancient and brutal.

The creature slowly stepped forward.

Each footstep cracked the ground.

Its crimson eyes never left Devara.

The hatred burning within them was obvious.

For the first time since its arrival, it had lost control of the battle.

And it hated it.

Finally, the creature raised all four stone maces.

Then slammed them into the ground.

The impact shook the surrounding forest.

Trees swayed violently.

Birds fled into the sky.

The surviving cultists nearly lost their balance.

Then the creature threw back its head and roared.

The sound was deafening.

A roar filled with rage.

Frustration.

And challenge.

The roar echoed throughout the flower forest.

Far away, hidden among the festival grounds, several birds suddenly took flight.

Even the animals of the forest began running.

The leader’s crimson eyes locked onto Devara.

This time there was no arrogance.

No confidence.

Only murderous intent.

Meanwhile, Devara calmly spun Amba Tejas in his hands.

The divine swords hummed softly.

Almost eagerly.

The king looked at the giant creature for a few moments.

"...."

Then a grin slowly appeared on his face no it never left his face on the first place since the fight has began.

Not because he underestimated it.

Not because he thought the fight would be easy.

But because, after cutting through dozens of weaker opponents, he had finally found the one that seemed worthy of his full attention.

"Now,"

Devara said, adjusting his grip on the twin swords,

"this is much more interesting."

The giant Rakshasa tightened its hold on the four stone maces.

The roots across its body writhed like living serpents.

The evening wind swept through the ruined flower field.

The giant creature’s crimson eyes remained fixed on him, watching carefully.

It had already witnessed what happened to the rest of its legion.

Every trick had failed.

Every advantage had been countered.

Now it wasn’t rushing forward like a mindless beast.

It was thinking. Planning.

Waiting.

For any mistakes Devara would make.

And that alone told Devara that this creature was far more dangerous than the others.

A normal monster would have attacked out of anger.

This one didn’t.

Several moments passed.

The wind brushed through Devara’s hair.

Amba Tejas crackled softly with electricity in his hands.

Still the Rakshasa didn’t move.

Devara sighed seeing the attack.

"So that’s your plan?"

The creature remained motionless.

Its four hands tightened around the stone maces.

Waiting and Watching for him to come close.

Trying to force him into making the first mistake.

A faint smile appeared on Devara’s face.

"Fine."

"If you won’t come to me..."

The king lowered his stance slightly.

"I’ll come to you."

The next instant the ground beneath his feet exploded.

Dust and flower petals scattered in every direction.

Devara shot forward like an arrow released from a bow.

The distance between them disappeared rapidly.

The Rakshasa leader immediately reacted.

Its eyes widened.

Its mouth suddenly opened far wider than any normal creature should have been capable of.

For a split second Devara saw something glowing deep inside its throat.

Then the creature spat something toward him.

A seed.

Small.

Purple.

No larger than a marble.

Yet every instinct inside Devara screamed danger.

Without hesitation he twisted his body in mid-motion.

The seed passed by him.

It struck the ground behind him.

And exploded.

-BOOOOM!

The explosion tore apart a section of the flower field.

Soil erupted into the air.

Trees shook violently.

A crater formed where the seed had landed.

Purple energy spread briefly across the surrounding ground before fading away.

The force of the blast would have seriously injured most warriors.

Perhaps even killed them.

But Devara didn’t stop.

Not even for a second.

His momentum carried him forward.

The Rakshasa leader attempted to swing one of its massive stone maces.

The weapon came down with enough force to shatter boulders.

Yet Devara was already moving.

Using the creature’s enormous size against it.

He suddenly dropped low.

Sliding across the ground beneath the giant’s body.

The Rakshasa leader immediately realized something was wrong.

"...."

Unfortunately... Too late.

As Devara slid between its massive legs, both Amba Tejas swords were raised upward.

Crimson lightning crackled across their blades.

Then both swords struck.

The result was immediate.

The giant Rakshasa’s entire body froze.

Its crimson eyes widened.

"...."

For a brief second there was silence.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Then came the scream.

A truly horrifying scream.

"-AHHHHHHH!!!"

The kind that echoed throughout the entire forest.

The giant creature staggered.

Its four stone maces slipped from its grasp.

Its enormous hands immediately moved downward.

Clutching desperately at the source of its pain.

The attack hadn’t killed it.

But it had caused a level of suffering the creature would never forget.

Even Devara landed several meters away and glanced back.

"That should get your attention."

The Rakshasa leader roared again.

This time there was no arrogance.

No confidence. Only pure agony.

And hatred.

An incredible amount of hatred.

Yellow blood erupted from the wound.

Pouring toward the ground.

Normally that would have been dangerous.

Every drop carried the possibility of creating more monsters.

But Devara had already anticipated it.

Before the blood could even reach the soil—

A bolt of lightning descended from Amba Tejas.

CRACK!

The lightning struck directly into the falling stream of blood.

Immediately the yellow liquid became a perfect conductor.

Electricity surged through it.

The energy raced upward.

Through the wound.

Through the creature’s body.

Through every root and vein connected within it.

The effect was devastating.

The giant’s entire body lit up.

-FLASHHHH!!!

For a brief moment its skeleton became visible beneath its flesh.

The roots covering its body began smoking.

The creature convulsed violently.

Then the accumulated force launched it backward.

The massive body flew through the air.

Crashing through trees.

Destroying flower beds.

Tearing up earth wherever it landed.

The impact shook the battlefield.

Several seconds passed.

Dust filled the air.

Broken branches fell from above.

Devara remained where he stood.

Because he knew the fight wasn’t over.

Not yet. Slowly...

The giant Rakshasa rose from the crater.

Its body smoked.

"...."

Burn marks covered portions of its flesh.

Several roots had been completely destroyed.

Yet it was still alive.

Very much alive.

The creature’s chest rose and fell heavily.

Its crimson eyes locked onto Devara.

And this time...

The hatred inside them was unmistakable.

Before, Devara had simply been an enemy.

A powerful obstacle.

Something that needed to be removed.

Now it was personal.

The creature looked at him as though it wanted to rip him apart piece by piece.

Especially after the attack Devara had just delivered.

Even the surviving cultists looked away awkwardly.

Their whole body has not stopped shivering.

They didn’t need to be warriors to understand why the Rakshasa was furious.

The giant slowly stood upright.

Its muscles tensed.

The roots across its body writhed violently.

One of its stone maces reformed.

Then another. Then another.

Until all four hands once again held weapons.

The creature stared at Devara.

A low growl escaped its throat.

-Growl!

Not loud. Not dramatic.

Just a promise.

A promise that it intended to make him pay.

Meanwhile, Devara rested Amba Tejas on his shoulders.

Looking completely relaxed despite facing a giant monster capable of leveling portions of the forest.

A mocking grin appeared on his face.

"There we go."

He pointed one sword toward the Rakshasa.

"Now you finally look angry. Instead of a blank slate."

The creature’s response was another furious roar that echoed across the ruined flower fields.

And unlike before...

This time it charged first.

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(Author note:)

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