(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...

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Meanwhile, outside the village, the military encampment had become one of the biggest attractions of the festival.

Thousands of people had gathered around the various arenas that had been prepared by the royal army.

Soldiers demonstrated swordsmanship.

Archers competed in accuracy contests.

Cavalry units showcased their coordination and discipline.

The crowd frequently erupted into cheers whenever a particularly impressive display was performed.

Children sat upon their fathers’ shoulders to get a better view.

Young boys watched with shining eyes, dreaming of becoming warriors one day.

The atmosphere was lively and energetic.

And right in the middle of all this...

Devara was suffering.

Not because of a powerful enemy.

Not because of Pushpasura.

Not because of divine prophecies.

But because of Kumara Varma.

The nobleman had refused to let him escape.

Every excuse Devara had attempted had failed.

"I have to watch my stall."

"No."

"I need to help my business partner."

"No."

"I forgot something."

"No."

"I suddenly feel tired."

"No."

After nearly an hour of relentless persistence, Kumara had successfully dragged Devara all the way to the military camp.

Shakuni had remained behind at the stall.

Mostly because he was laughing too hard to be useful.

Meanwhile, Sage Veenadhara had followed them.

Of course he had.

The sage had developed an unhealthy fascination with whatever chaos followed Devara.

Now all three stood inside a large command tent.

The moment Kumara entered, he ordered every soldier inside to leave.

The guards looked confused.

But since he technically belonged to the royal family, they obeyed.

Soon only the three of them remained.

Kumara proudly sat down on a wooden chair.

Then...

Nothing happened.

Devara blinked confusedly.

The sage blinked in interest.

Kumara rubbed his chin.

He had successfully brought the merchant here.

Now he needed to decide what to do next.

The nobleman entered deep thought.

A very deep thought.

Several moments passed.

Then more moments.

Then even more.

Devara patiently waited.

"...."

Meanwhile, Sage Veenadhara was beginning to wonder if the training consisted entirely of sitting.

Finally...

Kumara’s eyes widened.

An idea had struck him.

A glorious idea.

At least according to him.

He immediately stood up.

"I have it!"

The sudden shout caused both Devara and the sage to look up.

Kumara began pacing dramatically.

"Before learning how to fight..."

He pointed at Devara.

"You must first understand fighting."

Devara nodded slowly.

That sounded reasonable enough.

The nobleman continued.

"You have spent your life as a merchant."

"Therefore, you have likely never witnessed true combat."

The sage coughed.

Devara somehow managed to keep a straight face.

Kumara completely missed both reactions.

His confidence only increased.

"So first..."

He dramatically pointed outside the tent.

"I shall show you the arenas."

The sage frowned.

"The arenas?"

Kumara nodded.

"Exactly."

He looked extremely pleased with himself.

"You must witness wrestling."

"Sword fighting."

"Spear combat."

"Military drills."

His eyes gleamed with excitement.

"Only then will you understand how dangerous combat truly is."

Devara could already see where this was going.

Kumara continued enthusiastically.

"The sight will definitely frighten you."

The king almost laughed.

Almost.

"Then you will learn the importance of discipline."

The nobleman folded his arms proudly.

"A proper warrior must understand danger."

Sage Veenadhara slowly turned toward Devara.

The sage’s expression clearly asked.

"Did he just say combat would frighten you?"

Devara wisely pretended not to notice.

Meanwhile, Kumara was becoming increasingly excited.

The more he spoke, the more brilliant his own plan sounded.

Soon he was completely convinced that this was the greatest teaching method ever conceived.

The nobleman pointed dramatically toward the arena outside.

"Come!"

"The lesson begins!"

Before either of them could respond, Kumara marched out of the tent.

Devara and the sage exchanged a look.

For several moments neither spoke.

Then Veenadhara quietly asked,

"Why are you going along with this?"

Devara sighed.

A very deep sigh.

"Because if I tell him the truth..."

The sage immediately understood.

The royal family.

The villagers.

The tribe.

The soldiers.

Questions.

Suspicions.

Explanations.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, the followers of Pushpasura would continue their plans unnoticed.

The sage slowly nodded.

For once, he agreed completely.

Keeping the disguise was the better choice.

Even if it meant enduring Kumara’s lessons.

So the two followed him outside.

The sounds of cheering immediately reached them.

The wrestling arena was nearby.

Two massive fighters were currently locked in combat while the crowd roared with excitement.

Kumara proudly gestured toward the spectacle.

"Observe carefully."

Devara obediently nodded.

The nobleman crossed his arms.

His chest puffed out.

"This..."

He declared grandly.

"Is the world of warriors."

Devara looked at the wrestlers.

Then at Kumara.

Then back at the wrestlers.

And silently wondered how long it would take before this entire situation somehow became even more ridiculous.

The wrestling arena was packed.

People stood shoulder to shoulder around the circular fighting ground.

Some sat upon wooden platforms specially constructed for the festival.

Others climbed nearby wagons, fences, and even trees to get a better view.

The atmosphere was electric.

Every throw.

Every lock.

Every counterattack drew loud reactions from the audience.

At the center of the arena, two enormous wrestlers were battling for supremacy.

Their bodies glistened with sweat beneath the afternoon sun.

Neither man possessed a weapon.

Only strength.

Skill.

Experience.

And determination.

One wrestler suddenly shifted his footing and attempted to grab his opponent’s waist.

The other immediately countered by hooking a leg behind his rival’s knee.

The crowd erupted.

"Good!"

"That’s it!"

"Throw him!"

Several experienced wrestlers standing nearby nodded appreciatively.

The techniques being displayed were clearly the result of years of training.

The fighters weren’t simply relying on brute force.

Every movement had purpose.

Every shift of weight mattered.

One mistake could end the match.

The larger wrestler suddenly gained an advantageous position.

Using his superior size, he pushed his opponent backward.

The crowd immediately became louder.

Dust rose from the arena floor as both men struggled for control.

Meanwhile, on one side of the arena, a completely different battle was taking place.

A battle involving greed.

Hope.

And poor financial decisions.

Betting.

Several temporary stalls had been set up.

People crowded around them.

Shouting predictions.

Arguing.

Counting coins.

Some looked excited.

Others looked nervous.

A few already looked like they regretted their choices.

The betting organizers were struggling to keep up with the chaos.

It was precisely the kind of activity festival organizers officially discouraged while unofficially pretending not to notice.

The moment Kumara Varma noticed the betting stalls, his eyes lit up.

A dangerous sign.

A very dangerous sign.

Devara immediately noticed it.

So did Sage Veenadhara.

Both exchanged a glance.

The kind of glance people share when watching someone walk confidently toward trouble.

Without hesitation, Kumara marched toward the nearest betting table.

His heroic training lecture was forgotten.

The wrestling match was forgotten.

Even Devara’s education as a future warrior was forgotten.

At this moment, only one thing mattered.

Winning.

The nobleman shoved his way through the crowd.

The betting organizer looked up.

"What will it be, young master?"

Kumara confidently pointed toward one of the wrestlers.

The larger one.

The one currently dominating the fight.

"That one."

The organizer nodded.

"A popular choice."

Naturally.

Most people preferred betting on whoever appeared to be winning.

Kumara immediately produced a small pouch.

The moment it landed on the table, several nearby gamblers turned their heads.

The sound alone revealed it contained gold.

Not copper.

Not silver.

Gold.

The organizer’s eyebrows rose.

"Confident?"

Kumara grinned.

"Very."

The pouch was opened.

Several gold coins gleamed inside.

The surrounding gamblers stared.

One man nearly dropped his drink.

Another quickly recalculated his own bet.

The organizer accepted the wager and recorded it.

Meanwhile, Devara slowly rubbed his forehead.

Sage Veenadhara looked impressed.

"He bet gold?"

Devara nodded his head with a sigh.

The sage whistled.

"Bold."

"Foolish."

Devara corrected.

Nearby, Kumara folded his arms proudly.

His logic was simple.

The larger wrestler was winning.

Therefore, the larger wrestler would continue winning.

The conclusion seemed flawless.

Unfortunately, life rarely cooperated with simple logic.

Back in the arena, the supposedly winning wrestler suddenly attempted a powerful takedown.

The crowd cheered.

The move looked impressive.

Very impressive.

Then everything went wrong.

His opponent slipped free.

Shifted his weight.

Hooked his arm.

And used the larger man’s momentum against him.

The giant wrestler’s eyes widened.

"So that’s why..." Devara muttered.

Before anyone could react, the larger wrestler was thrown completely off balance.

The crowd exploded.

The smaller wrestler immediately capitalized.

One movement.

Two movements.

Three.

Then suddenly—

THUD!

The giant hit the ground.

Dust flew into the air.

The crowd erupted into absolute chaos.

The smaller wrestler successfully pinned him.

The referee immediately signaled.

The match was over.

For several moments, silence surrounded Kumara.

His chosen champion had just lost.

Very publicly.

The nobleman’s confident smile froze.

Then slowly cracked.

Meanwhile, the gamblers who had backed the smaller wrestler erupted into celebration.

Several men jumped up cheering.

Others began collecting their winnings.

One particularly enthusiastic farmer was dancing.

The betting organizer looked very happy.

Kumara looked significantly less happy.

Beside him, Devara calmly observed the arena.

Then looked at Kumara.

Then at the betting stall.

Then back at Kumara.

The king wisely chose not to say anything.

Sage Veenadhara, however, lacked such restraint.

The sage stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"Interesting."

Kumara narrowed his eyes.

The sage continued.

"Your judgment of wrestlers seems similar to your judgment of merchants."

Devara immediately coughed.

Loudly.

Very loudly.

The sage ignored him.

Meanwhile, Kumara stared at the arena.

His gold was gone.

His chosen wrestler had lost.

And somehow...

The merchant he was supposed to be teaching looked completely unsurprised by the outcome.

That bothered him.

A lot.

So naturally, a new idea began forming inside Kumara’s head.

One that would almost certainly lead to more trouble.

Because if there was one thing Kumara Varma never lacked...

It was confidence.

Even after reality repeatedly disagreed with him.

Kumara Varma immediately straightened after hearing Sage Veenadhara’s remark.

For a brief moment, his pride felt slightly wounded.

Only slightly.

Unfortunately for everyone around him, even a slight wound to Kumara’s pride was enough to activate his defensive instincts.

The nobleman folded his arms.

"Hmph."

Then he shrugged as though nothing had happened.

"Winning and losing are both part of betting."

His voice carried the confidence of a man who definitely wasn’t trying to justify losing gold.

"It happens."

He nodded wisely.

"Only fools become upset over a single loss."

Sage Veenadhara glanced at the betting stall where Kumara’s gold had recently disappeared.

Then back at Kumara.

The sage looked unconvinced.

Very unconvinced.

But he chose not to comment further.

Meanwhile, Devara simply smiled.

That somehow irritated Kumara more.

Not because the merchant was mocking him.

Because he wasn’t.

The man genuinely looked amused.

Eventually Kumara cleared his throat.

"Come."

He pointed dramatically toward another section of the military grounds.

"We still have many lessons remaining."

And so the unfortunate educational tour continued.

The next arena featured swordsmanship.

Two skilled soldiers stood within a marked circle.

Practice swords clashed repeatedly as the crowd watched.

Every strike was precise.

Every movement controlled.

The audience frequently erupted into applause whenever one of the combatants performed a particularly impressive maneuver.

Naturally...

Kumara immediately spotted another betting stall.

His eyes lit up.

Devara noticed.

Veenadhara noticed.

Even a nearby goat somehow seemed to notice.

Without hesitation, Kumara approached the betting organizer.

This time he carefully studied both fighters.

One was tall and muscular.

The other was lean and fast.

The nobleman stroked his chin.

He had learned from his previous mistake.

Clearly.

After several moments of deep analysis, he confidently pointed toward the lean swordsman.

"That one."

The betting organizer accepted his wager.

The duel resumed.

At first everything seemed perfect.

The swordsman Kumara chose dominated the exchange. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Several spectators even praised his skill.

Kumara’s confidence returned immediately.

"You see?"

He said proudly.

"I understand these things."

Devara nodded politely.

Then, moments later...

The swordsman slipped.

Not because of skill.

Not because of strategy.

A loose patch of dirt simply betrayed him.

His opponent immediately capitalized.

Three exchanges later, the match was over.

Kumara lost again.

The nobleman stared.

The betting organizer happily collected another payment.

Meanwhile, Veenadhara was beginning to notice a pattern.

"Interesting."

Kumara glared at him.

The sage immediately looked away.

The tour continued.

Archery competition.

Loss.

Spear fighting.

Loss.

Mounted combat.

Loss.

Knife throwing.

Loss.

At one point Kumara spent nearly fifteen minutes analyzing two competitors.

He considered posture.

Experience.

Weapon choice.

Physical build.

Confidence.

Then confidently chose one.

The chosen competitor was eliminated within thirty seconds.

After the fifth consecutive loss, even Devara started feeling bad.

After the seventh, he became impressed.

After the ninth, he started wondering if Kumara possessed a supernatural talent.

Not for gambling.

The exact opposite.

By the time they reached another arena, rumors had already started spreading among nearby gamblers.

"There he is."

"The unlucky noble."

"The curse has arrived."

Several betting organizers silently prayed Kumara would bet against their preferred competitor.

His track record was becoming legendary.

Meanwhile, Kumara refused to surrender.

"This next one."

He pointed dramatically.

"I am absolutely certain."

Ten minutes later...

He lost.

Again.

Veenadhara finally couldn’t hold it in anymore.

The sage burst into laughter.

Several nearby gamblers joined him.

Even the betting organizers were struggling.

Kumara’s face darkened.

"I was merely unlucky."

"Ten times?"

Sage Veenadhara asked with a sneer.

"Luck is a mysterious thing."

Kumara replied with complete seriousness.

At this point, Devara had to admire his determination.

The man had lost enough gold to buy a respectable herd of cattle.

Yet his confidence remained untouched.

It was almost inspiring.

Almost.

Eventually they reached the final arena.

This one was larger than the others.

Wrestling.

Swordsmanship.

Archery.

All had been entertaining.

But this was the main attraction.

A combat tournament between the kingdom’s most accomplished warriors.

The crowd gathered here was easily three times larger.

Thousands watched from every direction.

Kumara stared at the arena.

Then slowly reached toward his coin pouch.

A dangerous glint appeared in his eyes.

Devara immediately noticed.

"No."

Kumara paused.

"What?"

"No."

The nobleman looked offended.

"You haven’t even heard my analysis."

"I don’t need to."

"How can you know?"

Devara pointed toward the nearly empty coin pouch.

The argument ended immediately.

Even Veenadhara nodded.

For once. Entirely in agreement.

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(Author note:)

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

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