On the opposite side of the prison, the final trial was about to begin.
Shiva stepped onto the frozen arena, his trident resting loosely in his grip. Across from him stood Kamala, her posture relaxed, her smile wide and unsettling. Unlike her sisters, there was no anger or pride in her expression—only excitement.
The rules of Trial by Combat were announced, brief and absolute.
Before the bell rang, Kamala stretched casually, twisting her arms and spine in ways no normal body should be able to.
"Before we begin," she said lightly, "why don't we stretch a little?"
Shiva tilted his head. "Sure. Your body does seem… flexible."
Kamala's grin widened. "You're about to see just how flexible I am."
They took their stances.
The bell rang.
In an instant, water flooded the arena, rising to ankle level. Shiva felt the sudden shift in Kamala's spiritual signature and reacted immediately, leaping upward just as the water beneath him froze solid.
Kamala glided forward effortlessly, ice forming beneath her feet as she skated across the arena.
"So," Shiva said as he landed, "your teaching lets you create ice. But you need water. You rigged the match."
Kamala laughed. "I didn't rig anything. I just gave myself a competitive edge." She gestured around them. "And you're right—I need water. But once I make ice, I'm unstoppable."
The arena was completely frozen now.
Beneath the ice lay bodies—twisted, broken, and pierced with icicles. Some faces were locked in expressions of terror, others frozen mid-scream. It looked less like a battlefield and more like a museum of slow, deliberate torture.
Kamala laughed at the sight.
Shiva understood immediately.
This wasn't arrogance.
This was madness.
Kamala skated in without warning, launching a barrage of slashing strikes. Blades of ice erupted beneath her movements, tearing across the frozen surface. Shiva braced himself, shifting his footing within the shattered ice he had created earlier.
He blocked.
Again.
And again.
His trident flashed as he deflected each attack, metal screeching against ice. Every impact sent a shock through his arms, the cold biting deeper with each clash. Kamala circled him relentlessly, striking from every angle, testing his reactions, her laughter echoing through the arena.
Shiva didn't speak.
He didn't react.
He was completely focused.
Seeing his silence, Kamala pouted theatrically."No comeback? How boring. If that's the case, I don't feel like dragging this out anymore."
Her speed doubled.
Shiva felt it instantly.
Her spiritual energy surged, condensing, growing heavier, sharper. This wasn't just an attack anymore—she was preparing to end it.
There was no way to win this through normal combat.
Only one option remained.
The Spiritual Singularity.
A forbidden clash. A suicidal gamble.
When two peak teachings collide, the world holds its breath. This phenomenon is known as the Spiritual Singularity—a moment where opposing energies either collapse into absolute silence, sealing both combatants' spiritual energy for five terrifying seconds… or fail to stabilize, dragging both souls into mutual oblivion.
Shiva began gathering his spiritual energy at the tip of his trident.
Kamala noticed immediately.
"Oh?" she said, eyes lighting up. "You're really going for it?" She laughed. "You're more interesting than I thought. I love gambling."
She tilted her head mockingly."But even if you survive… you're still just a kid. You think you can beat me in hand-to-hand combat?"
That was her mistake.
Shiva was the most skilled hand-to-hand fighter among the Ten Protectors—second only to Ram.
But now wasn't the time to think about that.
Kamala lunged.
Their energies collided.
The world went silent.
The Spiritual Singularity activated.
Both attacks canceled.
Five seconds.
Shiva moved.
He burst from the water, tackled Kamala, and slammed her into the ice. He mounted her instantly, his fists crashing down again and again, each blow precise and brutal. Blood splattered across the frozen ground.
And she laughed.
That laughter—broken, manic—ignited something dark inside him.
Shiva roared and drove her face into the ice, crushing bone.
He stood, breathing heavily.
The battle was over.
Then—
Two voices echoed behind him.
A third voice followed, calm and resolute.
"I accept."
Shiva turned.
Kamala's mangled body rose into the air.
He felt it—two distinct spiritual signatures merging into hers.
Her wounds healed.
Her body twisted and expanded unnaturally.
She grew two additional faces, four more arms, four wings of water, and two chains of fire.
Her spiritual pressure exploded—three times greater than any Protector.
The arena trembled.