Chapter 132: Chapter 130: Amavasya Night... Ritual... Pishachas Answers...

(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 here 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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After A Week...

A week passed after the secret meeting.

The five kings moved quickly once their decision had been made.

Rudrasena of Kalingavara, Mahipala of Velanadu, Virendra Varma of Suryagarh, Somakeshi of Ananthapura, and Pratapaditya of Nandivana agreed that the practitioners should not remain within any single kingdom.

If they stayed under one ruler’s protection, it could create suspicion among the others.

Instead, they chose a vast forest region that connected all five kingdoms.

The forest stretched for hundreds of miles.

Ancient trees towered over the landscape.

Thick fog often covered the ground during dawn and dusk.

Wild animals avoided certain parts of the woods for reasons even hunters could not explain.

Most travelers preferred longer routes rather than crossing through its deepest regions.

To the practitioners of forbidden arts, it was perfect.

Far from curious eyes. Far from royal spies.

Far from temples and holy sites.

A place where rituals could be performed without interruption.

Over the following days, workers secretly transported supplies into the forest.

Tents were erected.

Wooden structures were built.

Storage pits were dug beneath the earth.

Strange symbols began appearing on trees near the encampment.

The five kings ensured the area remained guarded by trusted soldiers who knew only that important guests were residing there.

"...."

"...."

"...."

None were told the truth.

Meanwhile, the practitioners had already begun preparations for the coming Amavasya1, the night of the new moon.

According to their calculations, the moonless night would provide the strongest conditions for the ritual they intended to perform.

When the kings received the list of required offerings, even some of their ministers felt disturbed.

Thirty buffaloes.

Twenty pregnant cows.

Twenty pregnant goats.

The demand was unusual.

And excessive.

Yet none of the five kings hesitated.

Their desire for revenge had already consumed whatever doubts remained.

The animals would be delivered.

No questions asked. No objections tolerated.

Deep within the forest, the twenty practitioners slowly settled into their new home.

Though they worked together toward a common goal, they did not belong to a single order.

They came from five different clans, each possessing its own traditions, rituals, and forbidden knowledge.

The first was the Kaalashikha Clan,

Known for curses, hexes, and rituals that targeted the fortunes and destinies of entire bloodlines.

The second was the Vetalakula Clan,

Practitioners who specialized in spirits, restless souls, and dealings with entities that wandered between life and death.

The third was the Raktayana Clan,

Whose rituals often revolved around blood sacrifices and life-force manipulation.

The fourth was the Nishachara Clan,

Masters of shadow magic, illusions, nightmares, and methods of spreading fear among entire populations.

The fifth and oldest among them was the Krityagarha Clan,

A feared lineage known for creating destructive ritual constructs and invoking dangerous supernatural forces through ancient ceremonies.

Despite belonging to different clans, all twenty had united for one reason.

The challenge intrigued them.

Destroying an ordinary king was easy.

Destroying a kingdom was difficult.

But attempting to bring down a ruler who was whispered about by sages, priests, and wandering ascetics alike?

That was something else entirely.

One evening, as the practitioners finished drawing ritual circles across a clearing hidden within the forest, an elderly member of the Krityagarha Clan paused.

His gaze drifted toward the distant north where Trivenivrata lay.

"...."

The old man’s eyes narrowed.

"Something about this feels wrong."

Several nearby practitioners looked toward him.

The elder slowly rubbed his beard.

"Have any of you noticed?"

The others exchanged glances.

One woman from the Kaalashikha Clan nodded.

"The omens have been strange."

Another practitioner added,

"Twice this week my divination flames turned blue."

A third spoke quietly.

"And the spirits refuse to answer questions regarding Devara."

The clearing fell silent.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Such things were not normal.

Yet after several moments, the leader of the Vetalakula Clan waved away the concerns.

"Perhaps his blessings interfere with our readings."

"Once the ritual begins, we shall know the truth."

The others reluctantly agreed.

Still...

As darkness settled over the forest, several practitioners found themselves glancing toward the distant direction of Trivenivrata.

For the first time since accepting the king’s offer, a faint unease had begun creeping into their hearts.

An unease none of them could yet explain.

Amavasya1 Night...

The night of Amavasya1 had finally arrived.

A night without a moon.

A night many across Bharatvarsha considered sacred.

And a night others considered dangerous.

Deep within the ancient forest that connected the kingdoms of Kalingavara, Velanadu, Suryagarh, Ananthapura, and Nandivana, an unnatural silence had settled over the land.

"...."

"...."

"...."

The forest felt wrong.

No birds sang from the branches.

No insects chirped from the undergrowth.

Even the usual sounds of wild animals had disappeared.

It was as if every living creature had sensed something terrible was about to happen and had fled from that part of the forest days ago.

A thick fog blanketed the woods.

It drifted lazily between the trees, curling around roots and rocks like pale ghostly hands.

The ancient trees stood like silent sentinels watching over a secret they wished no one would uncover.

At the center of the forest, hidden from the eyes of ordinary travellers, lay a massive clearing.

It had taken the practitioners nearly a week to prepare it.

Every inch of the clearing had been transformed.

The ground was covered with countless ritual diagrams drawn using ash, powdered bones, vermilion, and strange substances brought from distant lands.

Large copper vessels surrounded the area.

Clay lamps burned with eerie green and blue flames.

Bundles of herbs hung from wooden poles.

Animal skulls and charms swayed gently in the cold night breeze.

The atmosphere felt heavy.

Oppressive.

Like a storm waiting to break.

The twenty practitioners stood within the clearing wearing dark ritual robes.

They belonged to five different clans.

The Kaalashikha Clan.

The Vetalakula Clan.

The Raktayana Clan.

The Nishachara Clan.

And the ancient Krityagarha Clan.

Though their methods differed, tonight they worked as one.

Tonight they sought destruction.

The destruction of King Devara. The destruction of Trivenivrata.

And perhaps something even greater.

At the center of the clearing stood several enormous effigies.

They had been woven from thick forest grass, dried reeds, and sacred woods.

But there was nothing sacred about their appearance.

Each one resembled a terrifying pishacha1.

Long limbs. Twisted claws.

Distorted faces which might make someone who looks at it with uncomfortable feeling.

And bad energy.

Wide mouths filled with carved wooden fangs.

The figures looked less like statues and more like monsters waiting to wake.

Over the past several days, the practitioners had repeatedly drenched the effigies with blood until the grass itself had become stained a dark crimson color.

Under the flickering torchlight, the statues almost appeared alive already.

The chanting began shortly after midnight.

One practitioner started.

Then another joined. Then another.

Soon twenty voices merged together.

The chants echoed through the forest.

Ancient mantras.

Forbidden invocations.

Words that ordinary people were never meant to hear.

The sounds seemed to travel through the trees themselves.

The fog thickened.

The wind grew colder each second passed.

After an Hour...

As the hours passed, different rituals were performed one after another.

Some practitioners sat around ritual fires.

Others poured oils into copper bowls.

Some drew additional symbols onto the ground.

Others continuously recited mantras without stopping.

The fires behaved strangely.

One moment they burned bright yellow.

The next they turned deep blue.

At one point the flames became completely black, swallowing light instead of creating it.

Even among the practitioners, several exchanged uneasy glances.

"...."

"...."

"...."

This ritual was responding far more strongly than expected.

Still, nobody stopped.

The five kings had promised them everything they required.

And their own pride would not allow them to abandon the work midway.

Hours later, the ritual approached its final stage.

The atmosphere had become suffocating.

Breathing itself felt difficult.

The fog had grown so dense that trees standing only a few steps away looked like distant shadows.

The practitioners gathered around the largest ritual circle.

Before them stood the pishacha effigies.

Motionless. Silent. Watching.

Or at least it felt as though they were watching.

The final offerings were brought forward.

The last mantras were spoken.

Every practitioner focused completely on the ritual.

Failure at this stage could bring disaster.

Then the final act began.

One by one, the life sacrifices prepared for the ceremony were offered as the practitioners completed the concluding rites.

The chanting reached its peak.

Voices rose louder and louder.

The very forest seemed to vibrate.

Then suddenly—Everything stopped.

The chanting ceased.

The wind vanished.

The flames went out.

Every single flame.

At once.

Darkness swallowed the clearing.

Not a single sound remained.

For several moments nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

"...."

"...."

"...."

The practitioners looked around nervously.

This was not supposed to happen.

Even the leader of the Krityagarha Clan felt unease crawling up his spine.

Then it happened.

A powerful gust of wind exploded through the forest.

-WHOOM!

The fog erupted outward. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Branches snapped. Leaves scattered into the air.

Several ritual lamps overturned.

The practitioners staggered backward trying to keep their footing.

The torches reignited by themselves.

Green flames burst to life around the clearing.

And what they revealed made every practitioner freeze.

The pishacha effigies were no longer lying where they had been placed.

At first one of the practitioners thought his eyes were playing tricks on him by one of the sprits.

Then he saw it. The statues before him.

One finger moved. A slow twitch.

Then another.

A head shifted slightly.

A shoulder jerked.

The sound of creaking grass echoed through the clearing.

Like old bones awakening.

Nobody spoke. Nobody dared to make any noise.

One of the younger practitioners from the Nishachara Clan felt his mouth go dry.

The largest effigy slowly bent its arm.

Then its neck.

Then its entire body.

The grass figure sat upright.

A second followed.

Then a third. Then all of them.

One after another.

The pishacha effigies rose from the ground.

The woven grass bodies creaked and twisted unnaturally.

The blood-soaked forms stood upon their feet.

Not as statues. Not as effigies.

But as something else.

Something that should not have been moving.

Several practitioners instinctively stepped backward.

One dropped the ritual bowl he had been carrying.

The metallic clang echoed loudly through the clearing.

Yet the figures paid him no attention.

The largest among them slowly turned its head.

Its movement was unnatural.

Jerky. Wrong.

As though an invisible force was learning how to use a body for the first time.

Then everyone saw it.

The eyes.

Moments earlier they had been hollow empty sockets.

Now faint crimson lights burned within them.

Not fire. Not reflections.

Something else. Something alive.

The glowing eyes swept across the gathered practitioners.

The clearing fell completely silent.

Even the most experienced among them suddenly felt small.

Because at that moment a terrifying thought entered their minds.

The ritual had worked.

Something had answered their call.

But as those crimson eyes stared back at them from the blood-soaked effigies...

None of them were entirely certain that whatever had answered was actually under their control.

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(Author note:)

I hope you guys give me your opinion and idea’s.

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

New Moon DayNew moonNew MoonOne of Tantrika Entity