The stage was set.
Lysette Adamus stood at the center of the vast courtyard, her robes fluttering as invisible currents of Naritti stirred the air. The stones beneath her feet vibrated faintly, as if the land itself sensed what was about to unfold. Beyond the citadel walls, the world waited—unknowing, unprepared.
Pannival stepped forward, his voice carrying the weight of centuries.
"Are you all ready, soldiers?"
A thunderous response echoed as one."Yes, we are, sir!"
Pannival raised his staff slightly, eyes sweeping across the gathered warriors of the Saptara.
"This will be the first major battle fought under our banner. We stand in numbers, while our enemy stands alone—but do not be deceived."His voice hardened."He is no ordinary warrior. In this battle, victory is secondary. Survival is paramount."
A brief pause followed.
"No one expected war while we were still premature. But fate does not wait for preparation."He bowed his head."Hail Malwai. Hail the Lord Almighty."
Every soul present bowed in unison."Hail Malwai. Hail the Lord Almighty."
Lysette stepped forward and lifted her gaze directly toward the blazing sun.
"Adamus the Mighty," she called.
Her voice was steady, but her heart thundered.
"The Great Seer, Adamus—mighty one of our blood. I beg of you. Grant me strength in the name of justice and truth. Grant me power to protect those you once cherished. Allow me to warp thousands to the battlefield where fate now unfolds. I offer every ounce of my Naritti in return. Bless us with wisdom."
She whispered the ancient chant:
ॐ द्यौः शान्तिः, अन्तरिक्षं शान्तिः, पृथिवी शान्तिः।Om dyauh shantih, antariksham shantih, prithivi shantih.
The sky answered.
Clouds gathered unnaturally fast. The brilliant sun vanished behind a veil of darkness. Wind cut through the courtyard, cold and sharp. The stones trembled faintly.
Yet… nothing else happened.
Pannival frowned, sensing the chill."Jayantaka… what is this?"
Angkasa Jayantaka spoke quietly."This is manifestation, Pannival. In Lysette's case—this is Adamus. The clan spirit. One of the eleven great warriors."
The air thickened. Silence swallowed the courtyard.
Lysette reached into her robe and withdrew a small blade. Without hesitation, she raised her hand and slit her thumb. Blood dripped onto the stone below—bright, living, sacred.
Elva Adamus watched.
Her breath tightened. Her fists clenched.
Her mother was offering blood. Her life.
And still—nothing.
Anger burned hotter than fear.
"Elva—!" Lysette gasped as her daughter stepped forward.
Elva knelt, cupping her hands beneath the falling blood, stopping it. She wrapped her mother's wounded thumb with a strip of her own cloth.
"I am doing what is right," Elva said softly.
She stood and looked skyward.
"Mother… perhaps I am foolish," she said, her voice steady. "But if he hears nothing… then maybe he is the foolish one."
The wind roared.
Clouds thickened. Thunder rolled.
"Elva, stop!" Lysette pleaded. "You'll anger him!"
Pannival raised his hand calmly."Let her speak."
Elva took a breath and shouted:
"Adamus! As a member of your clan, I command you—grant my mother the strength she seeks!"
Thunder cracked.
Rain threatened.
Then—silence.
The clouds parted.
Sunlight poured down like judgment.
The golden rays struck Elva Adamus directly.
Time stopped.
Her eyes widened—not in pain, not in fear—but in understanding.
Truth flooded her mind. Not words. Not visions. Certainty.
Lysette ran toward her daughter——and the thunder struck her instead.
Light exploded.
Lysette collapsed.
Gasps rang out. Some fell to their knees.
"Is this punishment?" whispers spread.
The sky cleared instantly.
The sun returned.
Elva fell to her knees—trembling, alive.
Lysette lay still.
Soldiers rushed forward—
"Enough," an old voice scoffed.The former patriarch sneered. "This is what happens when children interfere with gods."
He never finished his sentence.
Elva stood.
She walked calmly toward him, eyes shining—not with rage, but certainty. She flicked his forehead lightly with her middle finger.
The old man collapsed.
Elva spoke, her voice echoing unnaturally.
"Adamus has long departed."She turned to Lysette."It is my mother who protects this clan now."
She raised her voice.
"The Mighty Lysette. The Great Lysette of the Adamus Clan."
Lysette stood—unharmed.
"The portal is ready," she said calmly.
"Open.The Portal to the Parina Battlefield."
The ground split.
A massive oval gateway tore open—ten meters tall, five wide. Its center was pitch black, swallowing light. Ancient Sanskrit inscriptions burned along its edges.
Lysette snapped her fingers.
The gate awakened.
Pannival exhaled slowly."The era of the youngsters has begun, Jayantaka."
Jayantaka smiled."I couldn't agree more."
Beyond the portal, war waited.
And history prepared to be rewritten.
The jungle had fallen unnaturally silent.
No insects cried.No leaves rustled.Even the wind seemed afraid to move.
At the very heart of the newly born forest, Ruckus Stefani stood alone—upright, unmoving, waiting.
"So," he said calmly, his voice carrying effortlessly through the trees,"the rookies have come to witness their doom."
Armeet and Sukheer emerged from opposite ends of the clearing, their breaths heavy, bodies battered, Naritti barely recovered. The ground beneath their feet pulsed faintly, as if the land itself were alive—and suffering.
"This is it," Armeet muttered, tightening his grip on his broken sword."Now or never, Sukheer."
"Quiet," Ruckus interrupted coldly."It was never. Your chances against me have always been zero."
He raised his left arm.
The sky responded.
Dark clouds spiraled violently overhead, lightning crawling through them like veins. The air pressure dropped so suddenly that both boys felt their chests tighten.
"Summon: Spirit of War."
Ruckus tilted his head upward, eyes glowing faintly crimson, then looked back down at the two warriors standing before him.
"This ends here," he said."My final act."
THE FINAL ACT: DESTRUCTION
"Begin."
A blade of condensed Naritti fell from the heavens like divine judgment.
In a flash of light, it severed Ruckus's left arm.
Blood erupted—not splashing, not dripping—but bursting, scattering across the air like shards of liquid fire. The forest screamed as the blood touched the ground, carving glowing symbols into the soil.
Sukheer's eyes widened."He… hurt himself?"His voice trembled."Why would—"
"This isn't madness," Armeet said grimly."This is sacrifice. An ace move."
Ruckus didn't even flinch.
Blood continued to pour from his wound, but instead of falling, it rose, defying gravity, circling him like a living storm.
"I don't understand it," Sukheer whispered."But I can tell…"A hollow smile crossed his face."This is bad. Really bad."
Armeet smirked bitterly."Yeah. We're dead."
Ruckus snapped his fingers.
The blood around him surged forward.
In an instant, Armeet was trapped, encased inside a cage of hardened crimson—veins pulsing, walls breathing. He slammed his fists against it, forcing Naritti into his blows.
Nothing cracked.
"Ah—what the hell is this?!" Armeet roared.
"Shut up," Ruckus said flatly.
Sukheer launched himself forward without thinking, pushing his battered body beyond its limits, hoping—praying—for a direct clash.
Ruckus raised his remaining hand.
The blood answered.
A violent force struck Sukheer mid-air, hurling him backward. He crashed through a tree, splintering wood, before slamming into the ground hard enough to leave a crater.
Ruckus spread his arms.
Blood flowed outward, covering the forest floor, climbing tree trunks, sealing the sky above with a crimson haze.
"The Kingdom of Blood."
The words echoed like a death sentence.
The forest was no longer a battlefield.
It was his domain.
An ace move.
Irreversible.Unstoppable.
A technique born from war, paid for with flesh and life itself.
Any warrior who invoked it either emerged victorious—or died shortly after.
Sukheer struggled to rise, blood dripping from his mouth.Armeet pounded helplessly against his prison.
They both understood now.
This wasn't a fight meant for them.
This wasn't something courage or talent could overcome.
This was a broken ability—one that only monsters or legends could confront.
And they were neither.
Far above Parina, the sky trembled.
Something ancient was approaching.
But for now…
The Kingdom of Blood reigned supreme.
The land trembled.
Not from battle, not from blood—but from something far greater forcing its way into reality.
A few meters away from the heart of the jungle, space itself split open.
A massive portal tore through the air, its edges screaming as ancient runes ignited one by one. The ground fractured beneath it, trees bending away as if bowing before a higher will.
Ruckus Stefani felt it immediately.
So did Sukheer.
So did Armeet—trapped, burning, helpless.
This energy was different.
Not Naritti alone.Not a domain.Not an ace move.
It was authority.
"What… is that?" Sukheer whispered, struggling to lift his head.
Even Ruckus narrowed his eyes.
"This pressure…" he muttered. "No… this can't be—"
The portal stabilized.
And then—
They stepped through.
At the forefront walked a man whose presence silenced the jungle itself.
The Pannival.
The forest recoiled as his boots touched the blood-soaked soil, as if the land recognized its sovereign. Behind him followed Angkasa Jayantaka, calm and unreadable, his gaze already dissecting the battlefield.
Then came Lysette Adamus, pale but resolute.Elva Adamus, eyes shining with newly awakened truth.Sainen. Azhuro.And dozens of warriors of the Saptara, spreading outward with practiced precision.
In seconds, they formed a triangle formation, enclosing the heart of the Kingdom of Blood.
Ruckus exhaled slowly.
"So," he said, almost amused."The big ones have arrived."
The Pannival took a single step forward.
His voice was steady. Absolute.
"Hold your ground," he commanded."This fight ends here."
He turned slightly, addressing his soldiers—not with rage, not with fear—but with certainty.
"Let us win this."
A thunderous roar answered him.
"HAIL MALWAI!"
The blood-soaked jungle shook.
The Kingdom of Blood pulsed violently.
And somewhere deep within Parina, destiny held its breath.
[To be Continued in Chapter 49]