Chapter 131: Chapter 129: When Hatred Meets Black Magic...

(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 From next Chapter new volume based on tantra arc begans. Here The importance will be given to two goddesses.

Goddess Mahakali and Goddess Varahi...

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The laughter around the sacred riverbank slowly settled as everyone regained their composure.

The evening sky had now darkened further, painting the horizon with shades of gold, crimson, and violet.

The sacred waters of the Ganga River flowed peacefully once again as if nothing extraordinary had happened there moments ago.

It was then that Rajmata Satyavati finally decided it was time to enter the conversation properly.

"Enough."

Her voice carried gentle authority.

Immediately everyone turned toward her.

The Rajmata stepped forward carrying the ornate container she had been holding all this time.

A warm smile appeared on her face as she looked toward Devara.

"I almost forgot why I came here."

She extended the container toward him.

"This was given to me by the priests of the temple of Lord Narasimha."

Devara immediately accepted it respectfully with both hands.

"The priests specially prepared this prasad for you."

Rajmata Satyavati chuckled softly.

-Chuckle!

"And they looked happier than children during a festival when they heard I would personally deliver it."

That earned smiles from everyone nearby.

Devara carefully opened the container.

A sweet fragrance immediately escaped into the air.

The sacred offering had clearly been prepared with great devotion.

For a moment, everyone expected him to take the first bite himself.

Instead—Devara did what came naturally to him.

Without even thinking about it.

He turned toward Gandhari first.

"Open your mouth."

Gandhari rolled her eyes slightly but obediently accepted the small portion he offered.

A faint smile appeared on her face.

Next, he turned toward the five apsaras.

"Here."

The sisters blinked in surprise.

-Blink!

"...."

"...."

"...."

None of them had expected the king himself to serve them.

Yet one by one, they accepted the prasad respectfully.

Varga accepted hers while trying very hard not to smile.

Unfortunately she failed.

The smile appeared anyway.

Then Devara turned toward Satyavati.

The Rajmata laughed softly.

"You are offering it back to me?"

"You brought it."

"So you should receive some too mother."

The answer was simple.

Typical Devara.

Rajmata Satyavati accepted the offering with a warm smile.

Nearby, several guards watched quietly.

They had expected the distribution to end there.

Instead, Devara suddenly looked toward them.

The guards immediately became nervous.

"Come here."

The soldiers froze. Then looked at one another.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Then looked behind themselves to see if perhaps he was talking to someone else.

He wasn’t.

"You all have been standing here since morning."

"Come."

The guards hurried forward.

One by one.

Still somewhat confused.

Devara personally distributed the remaining prasad among them.

"Thank you for your hard work."

The words were simple.

Yet the effect was immediate.

The soldiers accepted the sacred offering with both hands and bowed deeply.

Not because it was merely temple prasad.

But because it had come directly from their king’s hands.

Many of them felt their hearts swell with pride.

One elderly guard carefully held the small portion as though it were a priceless treasure.

Another silently promised himself he would tell his family about this day.

"...."

"...."

"...."

A younger soldier looked moments away from crying from happiness.

Because in that moment, they did not feel like nameless guards.

They felt seen. Appreciated. Remembered.

Standing nearby, Gandhari quietly watched the scene unfold.

A gentle smile appeared on her face.

The five apsaras noticed it as well.

They were beginning to understand why so many people naturally gravitated toward Devara.

Why cursed beings would trusted him in the future.

Why gods blessed him.

Why ordinary people loved him.

It wasn’t because he was the strongest man in the kingdom.

Nor because he sat upon a throne.

It was because no matter who stood before him—Queen. Apsara. Rajmata. Guard. Farmer. Child.

He treated them all with the same sincerity.

As the last pieces of prasad were distributed, the sacred riverbank became filled with peaceful contentment.

And beneath the first stars appearing in the evening sky, the gathering felt less like a royal assembly and more like a family sharing a meal after a long journey.

After Several Months...

Several months passed after the incident at the royal court.

Outwardly, peace seemed to prevail across the surrounding kingdoms.

Trade continued.

Farmers tended their fields.

Merchants travelled the roads.

And within Trivenivrata, King Devara continued governing his growing kingdom while the people prospered under his rule.

But not everyone had moved on.

Far away, beyond the borders of Trivenivrata, beneath the cover of darkness, five rulers gathered once more.

The same five kings who had once stood in Devara’s royal assembly.

The same five kings who had been escorted out after their demands regarding river taxes had been rejected.

The same five kings who had sworn revenge before leaving.

Now they sat inside a heavily guarded chamber belonging to one of their kingdoms.

The room was sealed.

Curtains covered every window.

Armed soldiers stood outside every entrance.

No servants were permitted inside.

Only the five kings.

And their closest ministers.

The atmosphere was heavy with bitterness.

One of the kings slammed his fist against the wooden table.

"Months have passed."

"Yet every report I receive speaks only of Devara’s growing influence."

Another king clenched his jaw.

"More merchants are choosing his routes. Stating his terms were friendlier."

"More villages seek trade agreements with his kingdom."

"Even neighboring rulers speak favorably of him."

Every success of Trivenivrata felt like salt rubbed into old wounds.

They still remembered the humiliation.

The laughter. The rejection.

The threat Devara had spoken before his entire court.

None of them had forgotten. And none had forgiven.

A third king leaned forward.

"That is why I called all of you here."

A dark smile appeared on his face.

"We finally found people willing to help us."

The other rulers exchanged looks.

Then the king gestured toward the chamber doors.

The doors slowly opened.

Cold air seemed to enter with them.

One after another, figures dressed in dark robes stepped into the room.

Their faces remained hidden beneath deep hoods.

Necklaces made from strange bones and charms hung from their clothing.

Some carried staffs.

Others carried pouches filled with unknown substances.

The room became noticeably colder.

Even the ministers felt uncomfortable.

Feeling the negative energy which was filling the chamber.

There were twenty of them in total.

Twenty practitioners of forbidden arts gathered from distant lands.

Men and women whose names were whispered only in secret.

People who had spent their lives dealing with curses, rituals, and dark powers most kingdoms avoided.

The five kings looked at them with anticipation.

"...."

"...."

"...."

One of the robed figures stepped forward.

His voice was rough and ancient.

"You seek the downfall of a king."

Another added coldly,

"And the destruction of his kingdom."

The first king nodded immediately.

-Nod!

"Yes."

"We want Trivenivrata brought to ruin."

"We want Devara broken."

"We want everything he built reduced to dust."

Silence followed.

Several of the practitioners exchanged glances.

Then one elderly woman among them slowly spoke.

"Do you understand who you are asking us to target?"

The kings frowned.

"What does that matter?"

The old woman tapped her staff against the floor.

"It matters greatly."

"We have heard stories."

"The king you speak of is blessed."

"A man favored by powerful forces."

Another practitioner nodded.

-Nod!

"There are rumors surrounding him."

"Gods."

"Sages."

"Ancient blessings."

"Prophecies."

The room became quiet.

For the first time, uncertainty entered the eyes of a few kings.

But their hatred was stronger than caution.

One king stood abruptly.

"Are you afraid?"

The challenge echoed through the chamber.

Several practitioners frowned.

-Frowns!

"...."

"...."

"...."

The king continued to ask his question.

"You call yourselves masters of forbidden arts."

"Yet you fear one man?"

The insult stung.

Pride flickered in a few eyes.

Finally, the leader of the group raised his hand.

The room fell silent again.

"We did not say we were afraid."

His voice carried dangerous calmness.

"We merely said the cost will be high."

The five kings immediately leaned forward.

Money was not an issue.

Hatred rarely cared about expenses.

"Whatever the price."

"We will pay it."

The leader stared at them for several moments.

Then slowly nodded.

-Nod!

"So be it."

The torches around the chamber flickered strangely.

A cold wind swept through the room.

Yet somewhere beyond mortal sight, destiny itself seemed to stir.

Because some forces in the world could be challenged through armies.

Others through diplomacy.

But when hatred invited darkness into the game...

The consequences rarely remained under anyone’s control.

A heavy silence settled over the chamber after the leader of the dark practitioners agreed to consider their request.

"...."

"...."

"...."

The five kings visibly relaxed.

For months they had searched for a way to strike at Trivenivrata without openly declaring war.

Devara’s growing reputation had made many rulers hesitant to oppose him directly.

His alliances were becoming stronger, his trade routes busier, and his influence was spreading far beyond the borders of his kingdom.

To the five kings, every success of Trivenivrata felt like another insult.

Now, at last, they believed they had found a weapon.

One that did not require armies.

One that did not require sieges.

One that could strike from the shadows.

The first king leaned forward eagerly.

"Whatever is required for the ritual, we shall provide."

The other rulers immediately nodded in agreement.

"Gold."

"Rare materials."

"Animals."

"Artifacts."

"Servants."

"Anything."

Another king clenched his fist.

"All we desire is the destruction of Devara and the ruin of his kingdom."

The hatred in his voice made even some of the ministers uncomfortable.

The practitioners exchanged glances among themselves.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Unlike the kings, they were accustomed to dealing with dangerous forces.

They understood that rituals, curses, and dark workings were never simple matters.

Many carried consequences.

Some rebounded upon those who commissioned them.

Others attracted things that should never be invited into the mortal world.

Yet the kings seemed unconcerned by such possibilities.

Hatred had narrowed their vision.

Finally, the elderly woman among the practitioners spoke.

"Very well."

Her aged eyes swept across the room.

"We shall examine the matter carefully."

Another practitioner unfolded a bundle of worn parchments and ancient manuscripts.

"There are many forms of ritual."

"Some target individuals."

"Some target bloodlines."

"Some target prosperity."

"Some target entire regions."

The kings listened intently.

The leader of the practitioners slowly rose from his seat.

"When we determine which path is most suitable, we will inform you."

His voice remained calm.

"Only then will we know what materials are necessary."

The first king immediately nodded.

-Nods!

"You shall have whatever you require."

The leader held his gaze for several moments.

Then replied,

"Be careful what promises you make."

The room fell quiet again.

For a brief moment, even the kings felt uneasy.

But the feeling passed quickly.

Their anger was too great. Their pride too wounded.

Their desire for revenge too strong.

Soon the meeting began to conclude.

The practitioners gathered their scrolls and ritual texts before departing into the night.

One by one they disappeared through the chamber doors.

The torches flickered as cold air swept briefly through the room.

When the last of them had left, the five kings remained seated around the table.

A dark satisfaction hung in the air.

At last, they believed they had set events into motion.

Far away, however, the kingdom of Trivenivrata continued the daily routine.

The palace stood illuminated beneath the night sky.

The people slept peacefully.

The markets would open again at dawn.

Children would attend the gurukul.

Farmers would tend their fields.

And King Devara would awaken to another day of ruling his kingdom.

Unaware that beyond his borders, five bitter kings had begun placing their hopes not in armies or diplomacy, but in forces that thrived in darkness.

And such forces often had plans of their own.

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(Author note:)

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