At dawn, the silence of the battlefield was broken by the low rumble of movement. Shadows stirred, forming ranks as warriors from both sides fell into formation once again. The ground, still stained from the blood of the day before, felt heavier somehow—as if it, too, remembered.
Sharvas' camp moved with mechanical precision. Men formed up into the familiar Kavach formation, creating a living wall of shields designed to protect Sharvanagar. It was an intimidating sight—a wall of steel and resolve. The commanders took their positions with calm authority: Eknandini flanked the left with her sharp-eyed soldiers, Kritipal on the right with a fresh wave of spearmen. Sharvas remained at the center, ready to hold the line himself. Raktapasu, ever eager for violence, took the vanguard. His eyes were gleaming. His mudgar rested on his shoulder like a sleeping beast.
"Today, I finish what I started," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Dhanudanda won't survive this. And if I see one of those hard-skinned monsters again, I'll carve through them too."
On Parashar's side the camp was awake long before the sun had risen. Soldiers wrapped their arms in leather, tightened their grips around spears and swords. This morning was different.
Savignya mounted a horse today—a bold decision. Her braided hair was tucked into her armor as she readied to join the fight directly. Between them stood Ashvapati, silent and thoughtful, commanding a thousand men who waited on his every move.
At the front stood Arya and Dhanudanda. Arya quietly tested the weight of his sword, nodding to himself. Dhanudanda, on the other hand, had abandoned his twin swords for something far more dangerous—a gada.
The weapon shimmered slightly in the morning light. Heavy, blunt, and built to crush bones with one swing. Few warriors ever wielded it on the battlefield—it was too difficult for most. But in Dhanudanda's hands, it felt like an extension of his will.
"I'm ready today!" Dhanudanda laughed, rolling his shoulder and hoisting the weapon over it. "Arya! Clear off the soldiers for me, please! I don't want distractions. Raktapasu is mine."
Arya nodded, eyes serious. "Just don't do anything reckless. And remember what Rohak said last night. We still don't know what Sharvas is planning."
Lines formed quickly. Men moved in disciplined silence. Once again, the old formations emerged: Kavach versus Baan. Shield against arrow. A battle of endurance versus precision.
But unlike yesterday, something felt different.
Even the veterans felt it—an unseen tension rising like mist. A low hum of dread that curled in the stomach and made the hands grip weapons tighter. Everyone remembered Rohak's warning from the night before.
Someone had replied to Sharvas' letter. Someone powerful.
The Kaalraths, silent as ever, stood just behind Parashar's frontline. They had agreed to fight again today—but only if things grew dire. Ten of them stood like statues, each a shadow among men.
Sharvas' army had seen their fury yesterday. Eknandini had already briefed her soldiers on the weak spots—beneath the arms, just below the shoulders. Raktapasu had taken note. He had two goals today: destroy Dhanudanda, and if fate allowed, kill a Kaalrath.
Parashar gave the order to spread wide. Arya and Dhanudanda took the frontline. Savignya flanked right, her horse ready. Ashvapati kept tight control of the central phalanx. Archers readied at the back.
The sun crested the horizon. A crimson orange flooded the skies as war drums began to beat.
With every beat, the heartbeat of the battlefield grew louder. Soldiers clenched their teeth. The ground seemed to vibrate beneath their feet.
The twins were ready as well. They stood behind Parashar, waiting for the moment to move. Rohak, meanwhile, had disappeared again. Watching from a distance. Silently observing.
Then came the shankh.
The conch horn blew, its sound slicing through the morning like lightning. It echoed across the battlefield, loud and ancient.
The war had begun.
Arya and Dhanudanda charged first, followed by a wave of warriors. Dhanudanda's first swing sent three soldiers flying back, shields shattered, bones cracking like dry branches. Raktapasu saw it—and laughed.
Savignya rode forward, signaling her siege men. Boulders flew through the air, crashing into the shield wall of Sharvas' army. Some broke through. Some were deflected. Either way, chaos erupted.
From the left, Eknandini launched a counter-charge. Her forces clashed with Savignya's flank, and steel met steel in a deafening storm.
Parashar moved steadily forward. His section advanced with discipline, cutting down those in their path, slowly pressing in.
Still, a tension lingered.
Every few minutes, Arya looked to the sky. Rohak had said something was coming. No one knew when or how.