Chapter 185: Chapter 183: Legion Leader’s Loses Its Cool... Even Four Hands Not Enough...

(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 Volume: 9 Ends here... From Next Chapter Volume 10: Pushpasura Revival begins...

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The Rakshasa leader no longer resembled the composed commander that had watched the battle from a distance.

Whatever patience it had possessed was gone.

Only rage remained.

Its crimson eyes slowly deepened until they became a frightening shade of blood red.

The pupils seemed to disappear completely, replaced by a burning scarlet glow that made the creature look as though it had lost every trace of reason.

Its breathing became heavier.

The roots running beneath its skin writhed wildly like living snakes.

The muscles across its enormous body expanded further, veins bulging beneath its bark-like flesh.

Even the stone maces in its four hands looked different now.

Cracks spread across them as roots wrapped around the stone, reinforcing the weapons with living wood.

The surviving cultists immediately recognized what had happened.

"The Commander..."

One of them whispered with trembling excitement.

"He has abandoned his reason."

"The Blood Rage..."

The second cultist swallowed nervously.

"He’ll kill everything until his target is dead."

The giant Rakshasa threw its head back and released a deafening roar.

The sound rolled through the forest like thunder.

Birds resting miles away burst into the sky.

Animals hidden among the flowers fled in every direction.

Even the trees seemed to tremble beneath the force of its voice.

Then...

It charged.

The ground shook violently beneath each step.

Its enormous body bulldozed through the ruined flower field without the slightest concern for anything in its path.

Flowers were crushed.

Trees snapped apart.

Large rocks were shattered beneath its feet.

Everything simply ceased to exist wherever the giant passed.

Devara stood quietly, watching the monster rush toward him.

His expression remained calm.

The king could immediately tell the creature was no longer thinking.

It wasn’t observing.

It wasn’t adapting.

It wasn’t trying to exploit weaknesses.

It had thrown all strategy aside.

Now it wanted only one thing.

To smash him into the ground.

The distance between them disappeared in seconds.

The Rakshasa raised all four stone maces simultaneously.

For a moment, the evening sky darkened beneath the enormous weapons.

Then they descended.

All four at once.

The force behind the attack was enough to flatten an elephant.

BOOOOM!

The first mace struck the earth.

The impact blasted apart a section of the battlefield.

Soil exploded into the air.

A crater appeared instantly.

But Devara was no longer there.

He had already slipped to the side.

The second mace followed immediately.

It swept horizontally with incredible speed.

The air itself screamed.

WHOOOOSH!

The pressure generated by the swing alone sliced through nearby trees.

Several thick trunks were cut clean in half before crashing into the ground.

Again, Devara wasn’t there.

His body flowed around the attack almost effortlessly.

He moved with astonishing precision.

Never wasting a step.

Never moving more than necessary.

The third mace came crashing down.

Then the fourth.

One after another.

The giant attacked relentlessly.

The battlefield echoed with explosions.

Each missed strike left another crater.

Each swing generated violent gusts powerful enough to tear flowers from the earth.

Dust filled the air.

Broken branches rained down continuously.

Yet despite the overwhelming assault...

The giant couldn’t touch him.

To the Rakshasa, it felt like trying to hit the wind.

Every time its weapon descended, Devara was already somewhere else.

Sometimes only inches away.

Sometimes standing directly beside one of the giant’s legs.

Sometimes behind it.

The movements were so smooth that it almost looked as though he was dancing instead of fighting.

The Rakshasa roared in frustration.

Its attacks became even more reckless.

It stopped caring about precision.

It simply swung harder.

Faster.

With greater force.

The forest suffered more damage than its intended opponent.

Another massive swing cut through the air.

The sound alone made the surviving cultists cover their ears.

One of them whispered in disbelief.

"How..."

"How is he avoiding everything?"

The other could only stare.

He had never witnessed anyone move like that.

Meanwhile, Devara quietly observed every movement.

’Too much strength. Too much anger. Too many openings.’

The king almost felt disappointed.

"...."

The creature had sacrificed technique for raw power.

Against ordinary opponents, that decision probably worked.

Against him...

It only created more opportunities.

Finally, unable to bear the constant evasion any longer, the Rakshasa let out another earth-shaking roar.

It planted two of its massive feet firmly into the ground.

Then all four arms attacked together.

This wasn’t a sequence of blows.

It was one overwhelming strike.

The four stone maces descended from different directions, sealing every obvious path of escape.

Devara looked at the incoming weapons.

Then smiled faintly.

"So that’s your answer."

Instead of dodging...

He stepped forward.

The Rakshasa’s eyes widened.

The surviving cultists gasped.

He was actually meeting the attack head-on.

The four massive weapons came crashing down.

At the last possible moment, Devara crossed Amba Tejas before him.

The twin divine swords met the largest stone mace.

CLAAAAANG!

The collision rang through the forest like the tolling of an enormous temple bell.

A shockwave exploded outward.

Trees bent violently.

Loose rocks rolled across the ground.

Dust spread in every direction.

The giant Rakshasa smiled.

It believed its overwhelming strength would crush the tiny human beneath it.

Then something unexpected happened.

Nothing.

Devara didn’t move.

"...."

Not even an inch.

His feet remained planted exactly where they had been.

The crossed blades of Amba Tejas held the enormous mace in place as though supporting nothing heavier than a wooden stick.

The Rakshasa blinked.

Confused.

It pushed harder.

The muscles across all four of its arms bulged.

Roots wrapped tighter around its shoulders.

The ground beneath its own feet began cracking from the force it exerted.

Still...

Devara didn’t move.

The giant growled.

Then, abandoning the remaining two maces, it suddenly reached forward with two free hands.

Its enormous fingers wrapped around Devara’s forearms.

If brute force couldn’t overpower the swords...

Then it would simply force his arms apart.

The Rakshasa roared.

Every muscle in its gigantic body tightened.

The veins across its neck swelled.

Its feet dug deep into the earth.

It poured every ounce of strength into pulling Devara’s arms apart.

The surviving cultists watched eagerly.

"Yes!"

"Break his guard!"

The giant pulled harder.

Its face twisted from effort.

Its breathing became ragged.

Its four arms strained with unbelievable force.

Yet...

Nothing happened.

Not even the slightest movement.

Devara’s arms remained exactly where they were.

Steady.

Unshaken.

It was as though the Rakshasa wasn’t trying to separate the arms of a man...

But trying to pull apart two mountains.

The creature’s expression slowly changed.

Confusion. Then disbelief.

Then horror.

It pulled again. Harder.

Every muscle trembled.

The roots across its body creaked.

Still...

Devara’s stance remained completely unchanged.

The king looked up into the giant’s blood-red eyes.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You’ve finished?"

he asked calmly.

The simple question sent a chill through the Rakshasa’s body.

Because for all the strength it had unleashed...

For all the destruction it had caused...

The man standing before it hadn’t even looked like he was trying.

Devara looked into the Rakshasa leader’s burning crimson eyes.

The giant was still trying with every ounce of strength it possessed to force his arms apart.

Veins bulged beneath its bark-like skin, the roots covering its body twisted violently, and all four arms trembled from the strain.

Yet it was useless.

No matter how much strength it poured into the struggle...

Devara’s stance never shifted.

Not even a finger trembled.

The realization slowly crept into the Rakshasa’s mind.

The human standing before it wasn’t resisting with all his strength.

He was simply... holding it back.

As if everything the Rakshasa had unleashed until now wasn’t enough to make him serious.

A faint smile appeared on Devara’s face.

"You’ve had your turn."

"Now..."

"It’s mine."

Before the Rakshasa could understand those words, Devara suddenly twisted both wrists.

The twin swords of Amba Tejas slipped free from the giant’s stone mace with incredible precision.

The movement was so smooth that it almost looked effortless.

Using the force the Rakshasa itself had applied, Devara knocked both of its grasping hands away.

The giant’s chest was left completely exposed.

There wasn’t even enough time to react.

SHING!

SHING!

The two crimson blades shot forward together.

One pierced the left side of the giant’s chest.

The other buried itself deep into the right.

The divine swords emerged from its back in a spray of yellow blood.

The Rakshasa’s entire body froze.

"...."

Its four eyes widened.

Its grip weakened.

For the first time since the battle began...

Fear appeared.

A genuine fear.

The creature opened its mouth.

Devara immediately recognized the movement.

’The explosive seed...’

The Rakshasa was trying to spit out another one of those strange purple seeds.

It knew it couldn’t win anymore.

If it could release even a single seed...

Perhaps another legion could be born.

Perhaps the mission would still succeed.

Purple light began gathering inside its throat.

Its neck expanded.

The seed slowly formed between rows of jagged teeth.

Devara watched the process calmly.

"You’ve already shown me that trick."

"Do you really think it’ll work twice?"

The king gently released the hilts of Amba Tejas.

The Rakshasa almost smiled thinking he had released because he was afraid of the explosion.

The swords were no longer in his hands.

Then...

It noticed something.

The blades remained embedded inside its chest.

They hadn’t fallen.

Instead, both swords began glowing brighter.

Much brighter.

Crimson flames danced along their edges.

Then blue arcs of electricity began crawling across the blades.

The Rakshasa’s expression changed.

Confusion.

Then concern.

Then terror as its whole body shuttered.

Above the battlefield...

The storm clouds that had gathered throughout the fight suddenly began swirling.

The wind howled across the ruined flower field.

The surviving cultists instinctively looked upward.

The clouds had formed a gigantic spiral directly above the battlefield.

Lightning flashed continuously within them.

The entire sky glowed white for brief moments.

The atmosphere became suffocating.

Even breathing felt difficult.

The air itself was overflowing with divine energy.

Inside Devara’s mind, Amba Tejas spoke softly.

This time her voice wasn’t playful.

It carried immense excitement.

"Devara..."

"Shall we call it?"

Devara slowly nodded.

"Yes."

"Let’s finish this."

The king raised his right hand toward the sky.

The twin swords embedded inside the Rakshasa immediately answered.

Both blades became brilliant crimson lightning rods.

The creature finally understood.

Its eyes widened in horror.

It desperately tried pulling the swords out of its own body.

But they refused to move.

Almost as though they had rooted themselves inside its chest.

The purple seed still hadn’t left its mouth.

The creature tried forcing it out.

Tried moving.

Tried escaping.

It was already too late.

Devara spoke only two words.

"Amba..."

"...Tejas."

The heavens answered.

A pillar of divine lightning descended from the storm clouds.

KRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!

The flash blinded the entire battlefield.

For a single heartbeat...

Everything turned white.

The bolt struck the first sword.

Immediately jumped into the second.

The twin divine blades acted like perfect conductors.

They carried the full force of the heavenly lightning directly into the Rakshasa’s body.

The creature screamed.

A scream unlike anything before.

It echoed throughout the forest.

The surrounding mountains answered with echoes.

Birds fled from the sky.

Animals hid deep underground.

The surviving cultists collapsed onto their knees, covering their ears.

The lightning didn’t stop.

Another bolt descended.

Then another. Then another.

One after another.

The battlefield disappeared beneath an endless curtain of divine lightning.

Thunder shook the heavens.

The flower field became a sea of blinding white.

From outside the storm...

Only the silhouette of the giant Rakshasa remained visible.

Its enormous body stood trapped between the twin swords.

Lightning danced wildly across every inch of its flesh.

The roots growing beneath its skin glowed red.

Then orange.

Then white.

Cracks slowly began spreading across its body.

Not ordinary cracks.

They glowed from within.

Molten crimson light leaked through them.

Its bark-like skin blackened.

Stone armor shattered into fragments.

The roots covering its body burned away one after another.

Yet...

Unlike the rest of its legion...

It endured.

The creature refused to die.

Its roar became weaker.

But it continued resisting.

Its enormous body shook violently.

Every muscle strained.

Every instinct screamed for survival.

It continued fighting against the lightning itself.

Devara watched silently.

A small nod escaped him.

"So..."

"You really are their leader."

For a brief moment...

He almost respected its determination.

Almost.

Then the storm intensified once more.

The clouds answered Amba Tejas one final time.

The largest lightning bolt yet descended from the heavens.

It dwarfed every previous strike.

The surviving cultists stared upward in complete despair.

"No..."

One whispered.

"Please..."

The bolt struck.

KRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK!!

The explosion shook the entire flower forest.

A massive shockwave erupted outward.

Trees bent nearly to the ground.

Flowers were ripped from the earth.

Loose stones flew through the air.

The surviving cultists were thrown backward like dolls.

The center of the battlefield vanished beneath a sphere of blinding white light.

For several long seconds...

Nothing could be seen.

Only thunder.

Only light.

Only the roar of divine lightning.

Then...

Silence.

"...."

"...."

"...."

The storm slowly began fading.

The brilliant light disappeared.

The smoke cleared little by little.

Where the giant Rakshasa had once stood...

Nothing remained.

No body. No blood. No roots.

No ashes.

The creature had been completely erased.

Not destroyed.

Erased.

As though it had never existed.

The only things left standing in the center of the enormous crater were the twin swords of Amba Tejas.

Their crimson blades remained buried upright in the scorched earth.

The surviving cultists stared blankly.

Their faces had lost every trace of hope.

The being they believed could never be defeated...

Had disappeared without leaving behind even a single fragment.

Several moments later...

Devara slowly raised both hands.

"...."

The twin swords immediately responded.

They hummed happily before shooting into the air.

One surrounded by crimson flames.

The other wrapped in crackling lightning.

Both spun gracefully through the sky before landing perfectly in Devara’s waiting hands.

He twirled them once before resting them calmly at his sides.

The storm clouds overhead slowly dispersed.

Golden sunlight pierced through the dark sky once again.

The breeze returned to the flower forest.

And for the first time since the battle had begun...

The battlefield was truly silent.

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(Author note:)

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