Chapter 4: The Relic of the Tiger
The Bay of Bengal stretched endlessly before them, its waters calm yet heavy with an unspoken weight. The early morning light turned the ocean surface into a shifting mosaic of gold and sapphire, but to Arinjaya, the beauty of the view only deepened his unease. Somewhere beneath those tranquil waves lay Rajarajeshwaram, the legendary fortress that had once been the nerve center of the Chola navy—and now held the key to Simhamukha.
The group had set out from Kallazhagar Temple at first light, traveling swiftly through the forests and avoiding Rudrajit’s spies. By the time they reached the rocky coast where the entrance to the underwater city was hidden, the air had grown thick with salt and anticipation.
Standing at the edge of the jagged cliffs, Devika adjusted the straps of her pack, her eyes scanning the horizon. “I hope this isn’t just a wild goose chase,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
“It isn’t,” Agni replied calmly. He stood a few paces ahead of her, his saffron cloak billowing slightly in the ocean breeze. His eyes were fixed on the waves below, as if searching for something only he could see.
Arinjaya stepped closer, squinting against the glare of the sun. “You’re sure the entrance is here?”
Agni turned to him, his gaze steady. “Your father’s writings led us here, didn’t they?”
Arinjaya nodded, though doubt still gnawed at the edges of his resolve. The diagrams and notes in Rajendra Chola’s journal had been cryptic at best, but Agni had deciphered them with an unsettling certainty. According to the writings, the entrance to Rajarajeshwaram was hidden within an underwater tunnel, shielded by ancient wards that only someone of the Chola bloodline could deactivate.
The group descended the rocky cliffs cautiously, their movements deliberate as the sea spray slicked the stone underfoot. At the base of the cliffs, where the waves lapped against the rock, they found a small, nondescript cave opening, partially concealed by hanging vines and jagged boulders.
“This is it,” Agni said, stepping inside without hesitation.
Arinjaya hesitated at the threshold, the cool air of the cave brushing against his face. He could hear the faint sound of rushing water echoing from within, a reminder of just how deep they were about to go.
Devika gave him a nudge, her voice light but edged with challenge. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little swim, prince.”
“I’m not scared,” Arinjaya muttered, stepping forward.
“Good,” she said with a grin. “Because if you drown, I’m not hauling you back up.”
The cave opened into a wide, dimly lit chamber, its walls slick with moisture and streaked with glowing veins of Thandavam Ore. The faint blue light emanating from the ore cast eerie reflections on the water pooling at the chamber’s center. A single archway, carved into the far wall, stood partially submerged in the pool, its edges inscribed with ancient Tamil script.
“That’s the entrance,” Agni said, pointing to the archway.
Arinjaya stepped closer, his eyes scanning the inscriptions. They were similar to the ones he’d seen in Kallazhagar Temple, but these felt… heavier. As though the very words carried a presence of their own.
“‘The heir’s breath will open the gates,’” Arinjaya read aloud, his voice echoing softly in the chamber.
“What does that mean?” Devika asked, glancing at Agni.
Agni folded his arms. “It means only Arinjaya can open the way.”
Arinjaya’s stomach tightened. He stepped into the cool water, wading toward the archway. The inscriptions seemed to glow brighter as he approached, their light pulsing faintly in rhythm with his heartbeat.
When he reached the archway, he hesitated. The water lapped gently at his waist, and the runes seemed to hum faintly, as if waiting for him to act.
“What now?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at Agni.
“Breathe,” Agni said simply. “Trust your instincts.”
Arinjaya took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He let the sound of the water and the hum of the runes fill his senses, silencing the doubts swirling in his mind. Slowly, he exhaled, letting his breath flow across the surface of the archway.
The runes flared with blinding light, and the air grew heavy with a low, resonant vibration. The water beneath Arinjaya churned, and the archway began to shift, the carvings sliding apart like the gears of a massive, ancient mechanism.
As the entrance opened, revealing a dark, submerged tunnel, a wave of cold air rushed out, carrying with it the faint scent of salt and stone.
“You did it,” Devika said, her voice tinged with genuine surprise.
Arinjaya turned back to the group, a flicker of pride in his eyes. “Told you I wasn’t useless.”
The group waded into the tunnel, the water rising to their chests before leveling out. The passage was narrow, the ceiling low, and the only light came from the faint glow of the ore veins running along the walls.
“Stay close,” Agni warned, his voice echoing softly. “The wards are deactivated, but this place is still treacherous. The currents could pull us under if we’re not careful.”
“Comforting,” Devika muttered, gripping the hilt of one of her blades as they moved deeper into the tunnel.
The water grew colder the farther they went, and Arinjaya couldn’t shake the feeling that the walls were watching them. The glowing veins seemed to pulse faintly, their rhythm almost too subtle to notice.
After what felt like an eternity, the tunnel opened into a vast underwater chamber. The ceiling arched high above them, and the water dropped away into a deep pool that reflected the shimmering light of countless Thandavam Ore crystals embedded in the walls. At the center of the chamber was a massive stone gate, its surface carved with the image of a roaring tiger, its eyes glowing with an ominous blue light.
“Rajarajeshwaram,” Agni said, his voice almost reverent.
Arinjaya stared at the gate, his breath catching in his chest. This was it—the entrance to the fortress that held Simhamukha.
“Now what?” Devika asked, her voice breaking the silence.
Agni stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the gate. “We go inside.”
But before they could move, a low rumble shook the chamber, and the water began to ripple. Arinjaya’s hand went to the hilt of his sword, his heart pounding.
“We’re not alone,” he said, his voice tight.
From the shadows of the chamber, figures began to emerge—Rudrajit’s mercenaries, their armor glinting in the faint light. At their head was a familiar figure, his golden tiger mask gleaming in the glow of the ore.
“Cousin,” Rudrajit said, his voice carrying across the chamber. “You’ve led me right to it.”
Arinjaya’s grip tightened on his sword as Rudrajit stepped forward, his presence as commanding as ever.
“Let’s see if you’re worthy of your heritage,” Rudrajit said, drawing a blade infused with Thandavam Ore.
The chamber fell silent, the air thick with tension.
And then, chaos erupted.
The silence in the chamber shattered as Rudrajit stepped forward, his golden tiger mask glinting under the flickering glow of Thandavam Ore veins lining the walls. His movements were deliberate, predatory, and the air seemed to grow colder with each step. Behind him, his mercenaries formed a tight formation, their weapons—blades, spears, and modified firearms—all faintly glowing with the unnatural energy of stolen ore.
Arinjaya gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, the weight of the confrontation pressing down on him. This was the first time he had seen Rudrajit in person since they were boys—since the cousin who had once been like a brother to him had vanished into the shadows, taking his bitterness and ambition with him.
“You’re looking well, cousin,” Rudrajit said, his voice smooth and mocking. “Though I must admit, I didn’t expect to find you here. You were always more comfortable in the safety of the palace walls.”
Arinjaya’s jaw tightened, his muscles tensing. “Rudrajit. Leave this place.”
Rudrajit chuckled, the sound echoing through the cavernous chamber. “Leave? Oh no, dear cousin. This place is exactly where I need to be. And I must thank you for leading me right to the gates of Rajarajeshwaram. I wasn’t sure you had it in you.”
From the corner of his eye, Arinjaya saw Agni shift his stance, subtly positioning himself between the mercenaries and the group. Devika, meanwhile, had taken a step closer to Arinjaya, her hand resting on the hilt of her twin blades.
“Rudrajit,” Agni said, his voice calm but firm, “you have no right to be here. Rajarajeshwaram is a sacred place, and you have already done enough damage to our people. Leave now, or face the consequences.”
Rudrajit tilted his head, his golden mask catching the light in a way that made it seem almost alive. “Agni,” he said with a hint of mockery. “Still playing the loyal guardian, I see. Tell me, how does it feel to watch the kingdom you’ve sworn to protect crumble under your watch?”
Agni’s expression didn’t change, but Arinjaya could sense the tension in his posture.
“You’ve made your choice, Rudrajit,” Agni said quietly. “Don’t mistake ambition for destiny. This path will only lead to ruin.”
“Ruin?” Rudrajit repeated, his tone growing sharper. “No, old man. This path will lead to freedom. You and your precious Mayilnadu have kept the secrets of Thandavam Ore locked away for centuries, hiding behind the facade of balance and dharma. But balance is a lie. Power is the only truth.”
Arinjaya stepped forward, his voice steady despite the storm raging in his chest. “This isn’t about freedom. This is about your pride. You want to tear everything down because you think it’s owed to you. But you don’t understand what you’re doing. The power you’re chasing will destroy everything.”
Rudrajit turned his attention fully to Arinjaya, his mask concealing whatever emotions might have flickered across his face. For a moment, there was only silence between them, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on.
“Destroy everything?” Rudrajit repeated, his voice low but laced with venom. “You sound just like your father. Always preaching about duty and legacy while sitting on a throne built on blood and conquest.” He took another step closer, the mercenaries behind him holding their positions. “Tell me, cousin, what have you done to deserve the mantle of the Chola dynasty? Have you fought battles? Conquered lands? Protected your people? No. You’ve lived in the shadow of your father, a scared boy pretending to be a man.”
The words cut deep, but Arinjaya refused to let the pain show.
“Say what you want about me,” Arinjaya said, his voice steady. “But I’m here, Rudrajit. I’m standing between you and the destruction of everything our ancestors fought to protect. That’s more than you can say.”
Rudrajit laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “Protect? You’re protecting a cage. The Cholas may have built an empire, but you’ve turned it into a prison. You think you’re a guardian of balance, but you’re nothing more than a scared boy clinging to the past.”
The room seemed to vibrate with the tension between them, the air heavy with the unspoken weight of their shared history. Rudrajit took another step forward, stopping just a few paces away from Arinjaya.
“You’ll never be strong enough to carry this legacy,” Rudrajit said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You don’t have it in you.”
Arinjaya met his gaze, his grip tightening on his sword. “Maybe not. But I’ll stop you anyway.”
For a moment, Rudrajit said nothing. Then, slowly, he raised his hand, and the mercenaries behind him began to advance, their weapons at the ready.
“You can try,” Rudrajit said, his voice filled with dark amusement. “But I wonder—how many of your father’s lessons will save you when the blades are at your throat?”
Agni stepped forward, his staff spinning in his hands with effortless precision. “Enough talking,” he said sharply. “If you want to fight, Rudrajit, then fight me.”
Rudrajit chuckled and stepped back, gesturing to his mercenaries. “As you wish, old man. Show my cousin how far behind he’s fallen.”
The mercenaries surged forward, their glowing weapons slicing through the air. Agni moved like a shadow, his staff striking with pinpoint precision as he disarmed the first attacker, sending the man sprawling into the water.
Devika darted forward, her twin blades flashing as she intercepted another mercenary, her movements fluid and deadly. The sound of steel clashing filled the chamber as chaos erupted.
Arinjaya found himself face-to-face with one of the mercenaries, a massive man wielding a spear infused with Thandavam Ore. The man lunged, the glowing tip of the weapon aimed directly at Arinjaya’s chest.
This time, Arinjaya didn’t hesitate. He sidestepped the attack, his sword slicing across the man’s arm in a swift, precise motion. The mercenary roared in pain, but Arinjaya pressed the advantage, using the techniques Agni had drilled into him to land a calculated strike to the man’s shoulder.
The mercenary fell, and Arinjaya turned just in time to see Rudrajit watching him from the shadows, his arms crossed.
“That’s more like it,” Rudrajit said, his tone almost approving. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”
Arinjaya’s chest heaved as he glared at his cousin. “This isn’t over, Rudrajit.”
“Of course not,” Rudrajit replied, his voice cold. “It’s only just begun.”
Before Arinjaya could respond, Rudrajit raised a small device in his hand and activated it. The chamber shook violently as a section of the ceiling collapsed, sending debris crashing into the water below.
“Until next time, cousin,” Rudrajit said, retreating into the shadows as his mercenaries followed.
As the dust settled, Arinjaya, Agni, and Devika stood in the aftermath, the once-pristine chamber now marked by destruction. The gate to Rajarajeshwaram loomed before them, untouched but ominous.
“We need to move,” Agni said, his voice firm. “Rudrajit won’t give up. If we’re going to reach Simhamukha first, we can’t waste any more time.”
Arinjaya nodded, his resolve hardening. For all of Rudrajit’s taunts, this was his moment to prove him wrong.
“Let’s finish this,” he said, stepping toward the gate.
The gates of Rajarajeshwaram groaned open, their massive stone slabs sliding apart with a deep, resonant rumble that sent vibrations through the water beneath their feet. The carvings of the tiger’s face on the door seemed to watch them as they stepped forward, the glow of Thandavam Ore veins casting an eerie blue light over the group.
The air inside the fortress was damp and heavy, laced with the scent of ancient stone and salt. A faint mist clung to the floor, swirling around their feet as they moved cautiously through the massive corridor that stretched ahead. The walls were lined with intricate reliefs depicting naval battles, celestial beings, and warriors wielding weapons of unimaginable power.
“This place is enormous,” Devika whispered, her voice echoing softly. “How are we supposed to find anything in here?”
“Rajarajeshwaram was built to confuse invaders,” Agni said, his tone calm but wary. “Its passages shift. What you see today may not exist tomorrow. Only the one who carries the Chola bloodline can navigate it.”
All eyes turned to Arinjaya, who froze under their expectant gazes.
“No pressure,” Devika added with a smirk.
Arinjaya exhaled sharply, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “Let’s just keep moving.”
As they ventured deeper into the fortress, the corridor opened into a vast, circular chamber. The floor was inlaid with a massive yantra, its geometric patterns glowing faintly. Pillars rose around the edges of the room, each one engraved with Tamil inscriptions so old that parts of them had been worn smooth by time.
“It’s beautiful,” Devika murmured, her fingers brushing one of the pillars.
Agni’s sharp voice cut through the stillness. “Stay focused. This isn’t a museum. It’s a battlefield.”
As if on cue, the faint sound of footsteps echoed through the chamber, growing louder with each passing moment. Arinjaya’s grip tightened on his sword as the group turned toward the far end of the room, where shadows began to spill into the light.
Rudrajit’s mercenaries.
They emerged from the shadows like specters, their weapons gleaming with the unnatural light of Thandavam Ore tech. At their center stood Kalki, Rudrajit’s towering lieutenant, his expression cold and unyielding.
“You didn’t think we’d let you wander through this place unchallenged, did you?” Kalki’s voice was deep and mocking, his spear resting casually over his shoulder. “This isn’t your palace, little prince. You don’t belong here.”
Agni stepped forward, his staff spinning in his hands. “If you’re here to fight, then fight. Otherwise, step aside.”
Kalki’s smirk widened. “Oh, we’ll fight. But let’s see if your student can hold his own first.” He gestured with his spear, and the mercenaries surged forward.
The chamber erupted into chaos.
Arinjaya barely had time to react before a mercenary lunged at him, a glowing axe slicing through the air. He dodged to the side, the axe missing his shoulder by inches, and countered with a quick strike to the man’s ribs. The mercenary staggered back, but his armor absorbed most of the blow, and he swung again with renewed ferocity.
“Focus!” Agni’s voice rang out over the din. “Every movement must have purpose!”
Arinjaya adjusted his stance, remembering the drills Agni had forced him to repeat endlessly. His breathing steadied, and he shifted his weight, allowing the mercenary’s next swing to pass harmlessly to his left. With a swift motion, Arinjaya struck a pressure point near the man’s elbow. The mercenary’s arm spasmed, the axe slipping from his grasp, and Arinjaya followed up with a precise blow to the side of his neck. The man collapsed, unconscious before he hit the ground.
Nearby, Devika faced off against two attackers. Her twin blades moved like extensions of her body, deflecting strikes and countering with deadly precision. She ducked under a spear thrust, spinning behind her opponent and delivering a swift kick to the back of his knee. As he stumbled, her blade flashed, slicing across his weapon’s shaft and leaving him defenseless.
“Two down!” she called, glancing at Arinjaya with a grin.
“Not a competition!” Arinjaya shot back, parrying another strike.
“Sure it isn’t!”
At the center of the chamber, Agni faced three mercenaries at once, his movements so fluid it seemed as though he was predicting their attacks before they even made them. He sidestepped a sword swing, his staff darting forward to strike a vital point just below the attacker’s collarbone. The man crumpled instantly, his weapon clattering to the ground.
The remaining two hesitated, but Agni gave them no time to regroup. With a sharp spin, he struck one across the temple, knocking him unconscious, and swept the legs out from under the other.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” Agni said, his voice calm but laced with disdain.
Kalki, who had been watching the battle with quiet amusement, finally stepped forward. His spear crackled with energy as he spun it in his hands, the air around him seeming to hum with power.
“Impressive,” Kalki said, his eyes locking on Agni. “But let’s see how you fare against someone who actually knows how to fight.”
Agni raised his staff, his expression unreadable. “Come and find out.”
Kalki lunged, his spear a blur as he thrust it toward Agni’s chest. The older warrior sidestepped the attack, his staff striking the spear’s shaft with a loud crack. The two clashed with ferocious speed, their weapons colliding in a series of precise, calculated movements.
Meanwhile, Arinjaya and Devika fought to keep the remaining mercenaries at bay.
One of the attackers, a wiry man armed with a pair of curved daggers, darted toward Arinjaya with unsettling speed. His movements were unpredictable, his strikes aimed at Arinjaya’s weak points.
Arinjaya struggled to keep up, his sword barely deflecting the flurry of attacks. The man’s blade nicked his arm, drawing a thin line of blood, and Arinjaya’s frustration flared.
“Breathe, Arinjaya!” Agni shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Don’t let your anger control you!”
Arinjaya gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus. He stepped back, his eyes narrowing as he studied his opponent’s movements. The man lunged again, but this time, Arinjaya was ready.
He sidestepped the attack and struck the mercenary’s wrist, disarming him. Before the man could recover, Arinjaya delivered a sharp blow to a pressure point on his shoulder. The mercenary froze, his body locking up before he collapsed to the ground.
The battle raged on, but one by one, Rudrajit’s forces began to falter. Agni delivered a devastating strike to Kalki’s spear, shattering the weapon and forcing the lieutenant to retreat with a snarl of frustration.
“You’ve won this round,” Kalki growled, backing toward the shadows. “But you won’t make it to the end alive.”
With a sharp gesture, he signaled the remaining mercenaries to fall back. The chamber fell silent once more as the attackers disappeared into the labyrinthine corridors of Rajarajeshwaram.
Arinjaya lowered his sword, his chest heaving as he surveyed the aftermath. The floor was littered with weapons and unconscious mercenaries, the glowing veins of Thandavam Ore casting an eerie light over the scene.
“That was too close,” Devika muttered, wiping sweat from her brow.
Agni stepped forward, his expression calm but serious. “This was only the beginning. Rudrajit’s forces won’t stop until they reach Simhamukha.”
Arinjaya nodded, his resolve hardening. “Then neither will we.”
The air grew heavier the deeper they ventured into Rajarajeshwaram. The initial glow of the Thandavam Ore veins dimmed, leaving the walls shrouded in faint shadows. The corridors became narrower, twisting into confusing patterns that seemed to defy logic. Arinjaya, Agni, and Devika moved cautiously, their steps echoing softly in the damp, oppressive silence.
Every corner of the fortress carried the weight of history—centuries of secrets carved into its walls, lost technologies waiting to be rediscovered, and untold dangers hidden in the dark. Arinjaya couldn’t shake the feeling that the fortress was alive, watching them with unseen eyes, testing their resolve.
“We’re getting close,” Agni said quietly, his eyes scanning the walls. “The Chamber of Knowledge should be just ahead.”
“The Chamber of Knowledge?” Devika asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s where the Cholas stored their most precious records,” Agni explained. “Blueprints, battle strategies, and, most importantly, the scrolls that detail the forging and use of Thandavam Ore-based weapons. If Rudrajit gains access to those scrolls, he’ll have everything he needs to weaponize the ore on a scale we can’t stop.”
Arinjaya tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. “Then we’d better find it before he does.”
They rounded a corner and entered a vast hall, the ceiling arching high above them and supported by rows of intricately carved pillars. At the far end of the hall was a massive bronze door, its surface etched with scenes of naval battles and celestial beings. The center of the door bore the Chola emblem—a roaring tiger surrounded by spirals of waves.
“This is it,” Agni said, stepping toward the door.
Arinjaya followed, studying the inscriptions on the door. Like the gates they had opened earlier, the carvings seemed to hum faintly, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
“What now?” Arinjaya asked.
“The door will only open for someone of Chola blood,” Agni replied, gesturing toward a small, circular indentation near the center of the door. “Place your hand there and focus. The energy within you will resonate with the mechanism.”
Arinjaya hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and pressed his palm against the indentation. The metal was cold at first, but as he closed his eyes and focused, a strange warmth spread through his hand, followed by a low, resonant vibration.
The carvings on the door began to glow, and with a deep groan, the bronze slabs slid apart, revealing a hidden chamber beyond.
The Chamber of Knowledge was unlike anything Arinjaya had ever seen. The walls were lined with shelves carved directly into the stone, each one filled with ancient scrolls and tablets. At the center of the room stood a massive pedestal, its surface engraved with a yantra that radiated faint blue light. Surrounding the pedestal were crystals of Thandavam Ore, their glow casting an ethereal light over the chamber.
Devika let out a low whistle as she stepped inside. “This place is incredible.”
Agni’s expression was grim. “It’s also dangerous. These scrolls contain knowledge that could change the course of history—for better or worse.”
As the group fanned out to explore the chamber, Devika’s sharp eyes caught sight of a scroll resting on the pedestal. The scroll was tightly bound with golden thread, its surface inscribed with intricate patterns.
“This looks important,” she said, picking it up carefully.
Agni’s head snapped toward her, and he strode over quickly. “Be cautious,” he warned. “That’s no ordinary scroll.”
“What does it say?” Arinjaya asked, stepping closer.
Agni carefully unbound the thread and unrolled the scroll, his eyes scanning the ancient Tamil script. His expression darkened as he read, and when he finally looked up, there was a weight in his gaze that made Arinjaya’s stomach churn.
“This is it,” Agni said quietly. “The instructions for forging Thandavam Ore into weapons. It details everything—how to shape the ore, how to infuse it with energy, how to create armor and blades powerful enough to cut through anything.”
“Which is exactly what Rudrajit wants,” Devika said, her voice grim.
Before they could say more, a sudden noise echoed through the hall—the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps and clinking armor.
“Rudrajit’s men,” Agni said, his voice sharp. “They’ve found us.”
Arinjaya quickly drew his sword, his heart pounding as the sound grew louder. Moments later, a group of mercenaries poured into the chamber, their weapons raised.
Leading them was Rudrajit, his golden tiger mask gleaming in the ethereal light of the chamber. His gaze locked onto the scroll in Agni’s hands, and a slow, sinister smile spread across his face.
“Well, well,” Rudrajit said, his voice dripping with mockery. “You’ve done all the hard work for me. How thoughtful.”
Agni stepped forward, placing himself between Rudrajit and the scroll. “You’re not taking this.”
Rudrajit chuckled, his tone condescending. “Oh, Agni. Still clinging to the past, I see. Don’t you realize the world has outgrown your ideals? Balance, dharma—they’re just stories we tell ourselves to avoid facing the truth. Power is all that matters.”
“You don’t understand the consequences of what you’re doing,” Agni said, his voice steady but laced with warning.
“I understand perfectly,” Rudrajit replied, drawing a blade that crackled with the unnatural energy of Thandavam Ore. “And I’ll show you.”
With a flick of his hand, Rudrajit signaled his men to attack.
The chamber erupted into chaos.
Arinjaya barely had time to react as two mercenaries charged at him, their swords glowing with crackling energy. He dodged the first strike and countered with a quick blow to the second attacker’s wrist, disarming him.
Nearby, Devika moved like a shadow, her twin blades flashing as she deflected a spear thrust and drove her elbow into her opponent’s chest.
Agni, meanwhile, faced off against Rudrajit. The two warriors moved with blinding speed, their weapons colliding in a shower of sparks. Agni’s staff struck with pinpoint precision, but Rudrajit countered with equal ferocity, his blade cutting through the air in arcs of deadly light.
“You’ve trained him well, Agni,” Rudrajit said, his voice taunting. “But it won’t be enough.”
As the battle raged, Arinjaya spotted a mercenary making his way toward the pedestal, clearly aiming for the scrolls.
“Not happening,” Arinjaya muttered, surging forward.
The mercenary turned, raising his weapon, but Arinjaya was faster. He sidestepped the attack and struck the man’s chest with the hilt of his sword, sending him sprawling. Grabbing the scroll from the pedestal, Arinjaya turned to Agni and shouted, “We can’t let them take this!”
Agni nodded sharply, deflecting another blow from Rudrajit. “Go! Protect it!”
Arinjaya and Devika began to retreat, the scroll clutched tightly in Arinjaya’s hands. But Rudrajit, seeing his prize slipping away, growled in frustration and thrust his blade into the ground. A surge of energy erupted, shaking the chamber and causing debris to fall from the ceiling.
“You won’t escape with that scroll!” Rudrajit roared.
The group barely made it out of the chamber, the sound of Rudrajit’s fury echoing behind them.
The stone corridors of Rajarajeshwaram echoed with the chaos of battle. As Arinjaya, Agni, and Devika raced away from the Chamber of Knowledge, the fortress seemed to shift around them. The walls felt closer, the air heavier, and every shadow seemed to carry the threat of another ambush.
Arinjaya clutched the forbidden scroll tightly against his chest, his heart pounding as the sound of Rudrajit’s enraged voice echoed behind them. The ground beneath their feet trembled, sending dust and fragments of stone raining from the ceiling.
“Hurry!” Agni barked, his voice cutting through the noise. “This entire section of the fortress is unstable!”
“I noticed!” Devika shot back, narrowly dodging a falling chunk of debris. “Tell me again why we’re running instead of taking Rudrajit’s head right now?”
“Because he has an army, and we don’t!” Arinjaya replied, his frustration bubbling over.
“Fair point!”
They turned a sharp corner and found themselves in another massive hall, this one lined with crumbling statues of Chola warriors. The statues, once grand and imposing, now leaned precariously, their cracked surfaces a testament to the centuries of neglect.
Agni stopped abruptly, his sharp eyes scanning the room. “This way,” he said, pointing toward a narrow passage partially hidden behind one of the statues.
Arinjaya hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the corridor they had just left. The distant glow of Thandavam Ore weaponry flickered in the shadows—Rudrajit’s forces were close.
“Move!” Agni snapped, breaking Arinjaya’s trance.
The passage was claustrophobic, barely wide enough for them to pass single file. The air grew colder, carrying with it the faint sound of rushing water. The glow of the ore veins along the walls grew dimmer, making the shadows seem longer and more menacing.
“This doesn’t feel like an escape route,” Devika muttered, her voice low.
“It isn’t,” Agni said grimly. “But it’s our best chance to regroup. Rudrajit won’t risk sending all his forces into this section of the fortress. Too unstable.”
“Unstable?” Arinjaya asked, his voice tight with unease.
As if in answer, a distant rumble echoed through the passage, followed by the unmistakable sound of stone cracking.
“Keep moving,” Agni said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The passage eventually opened into a cavernous chamber. A massive underground waterfall cascaded down one wall, feeding into a wide pool that glowed faintly with bioluminescent algae. Stone platforms jutted out over the water, their surfaces slick with moisture.
“This is incredible,” Devika said, momentarily awed by the sight. “I had no idea something like this was down here.”
“Focus,” Agni said, his tone sharper than usual. “We’re not out of danger yet.”
He turned to Arinjaya. “How far ahead is Rudrajit? What do you remember from the scrolls about the fortress?”
Arinjaya frowned, the scroll still clutched tightly in his hand. “The fortress was built to protect not just Simhamukha but everything connected to Thandavam Ore. There are levels beneath us—chambers that were sealed off centuries ago. If Rudrajit gains access to those…”
“He’ll unlock weapons our ancestors never intended to be used,” Agni finished grimly.
A sharp sound cut through the air—the echo of distant footsteps.
“They’re coming,” Devika said, drawing her twin blades.
Agni nodded, his grip tightening on his staff. “We hold them here. Arinjaya, keep that scroll safe at all costs.”
Arinjaya’s pulse quickened. “You can’t expect me to just stand back while you—”
“I can, and I do,” Agni interrupted, his gaze piercing. “Your role isn’t to fight here. It’s to survive and stop Rudrajit from reaching Simhamukha. Do you understand?”
Arinjaya hesitated, torn between his instinct to fight and the responsibility Agni had thrust upon him. Finally, he nodded. “I understand.”
The sound of footsteps grew louder, accompanied by the faint hum of Thandavam Ore weaponry.
Devika glanced at Agni, her expression fierce. “How many do you think?”
“Enough,” Agni replied. “Stay close to the prince.”
But before they could form a plan, the first of Rudrajit’s mercenaries appeared, stepping out from the shadows like wraiths. There were at least six of them, their glowing weapons casting eerie light across the chamber.
At their head was Kalki, his shattered spear replaced with twin short blades crackling with raw energy. His cold, calculating gaze swept over the group before locking onto Arinjaya.
“Hand over the scroll, prince,” Kalki said, his voice low and dangerous. “Do that, and I might let you leave with your life.”
Arinjaya stepped forward, his sword drawn. “You’ll have to kill me first.”
Kalki smirked. “If that’s what it takes.”
The mercenaries attacked with brutal precision.
Devika moved like a shadow, her twin blades deflecting the mercenaries’ strikes in rapid, fluid motions. She ducked under a spear thrust and retaliated with a slash across her opponent’s thigh, sending him sprawling into the water.
Agni’s staff moved like an extension of his body, striking with pinpoint accuracy. He targeted vital points on the mercenaries, rendering them unconscious with a single blow. His movements were calm, almost effortless, even as the chaos around him intensified.
Arinjaya fought with growing confidence, his training in Varma Kalai allowing him to anticipate his opponents’ movements. He sidestepped a glowing axe and countered with a strike to his attacker’s forearm, forcing him to drop the weapon.
But Kalki was a different beast entirely.
The lieutenant moved with relentless speed, his twin blades a blur of energy as he clashed with Agni. Their weapons collided in a shower of sparks, the sound echoing through the cavern.
“You’re losing your edge, old man,” Kalki taunted, pressing the attack.
Agni deflected another strike, his expression calm but focused. “Your ambition blinds you, Kalki. And it will be your downfall.”
Amid the chaos, one of the mercenaries broke away from the fight and made a beeline for Arinjaya, his blade raised.
“Prince!” Devika shouted, but she was too far to intervene.
Arinjaya turned just in time, raising his sword to block the attack. The force of the blow sent him staggering back, but he held his ground. With a sharp twist, he redirected the mercenary’s momentum, striking a pressure point near the man’s shoulder. The mercenary collapsed, unconscious.
“You’re getting better,” Devika said, flashing him a quick grin as she joined him.
“Not good enough,” Arinjaya muttered, his breathing heavy.
The battle raged on, but the group was vastly outnumbered. Agni, seeing the tide turning, shouted over the chaos.
“Arinjaya! Take the scroll and go! Now!”
“What about you?” Arinjaya shouted back.
Agni’s gaze was steady, unyielding. “This fight isn’t yours. Go!”
Arinjaya hesitated, his heart pounding, but he knew Agni was right. Clutching the scroll tightly, he turned and ran toward the far end of the chamber, Devika following close behind.
As they disappeared into the shadows, Agni stood his ground against Kalki and the remaining mercenaries, his staff spinning in a blur of motion.
“This isn’t over, Agni,” Kalki growled, his voice filled with venom.
Agni smirked faintly, his stance unwavering. “It never is.”