Maya's voice trembled as she clung to Karikalan's sleeve:
"They are not listening to you… what should we do now?"
Karikalan's eyes burned with frustration, his voice rising
against the suffocating silence:
"I don't know why this is happening. Pooja! Stop them,
or else you will be guilty of violating the agreement!"
Pooja leaned forward, her tone cold and merciless:
"Are you still believing in this agreement?"
Karikalan's heart sank, his voice sharp with realization:
"What? Is this all just a drama to trap us?"
Pooja's lips curled into a faint smile, her words slicing
through the air:
"You finally understood. This agreement was nothing but
a trap I created to catch you here. It was never about freedom. It was only for
my protection — to shield my younger brother from you people. And I have done
my job well."
Maya's eyes filled with tears, her voice breaking:
"Why did you do this? I thought you would free us if I
signed the agreement… but you changed your color."
Pooja's gaze softened for a moment, then hardened again:
"At least I spared your boyfriend, Maya. But I have no
choice now. My brother has been threatened by someone using that video. To save
him, I will do anything… even if it means killing one."
Her voice dropped to a chilling command:
"Now… kill them."
The guardians moved in, their blades glinting under the dim
light, surrounding Karikalan and Maya like predators closing in on prey.
Karikalan stepped forward, shielding Maya with his own
body, his stance firm and protective.
"Maya, don't move anywhere unless I command you."
Maya's lips quivered, her voice barely a whisper:
"I won't…"
The guardians tightened their circle, the air thick with
menace. Karikalan's fists clenched, his spirit igniting. The trap had been
revealed, the betrayal complete — and now, survival would depend on the fight
to come.
The air in the hall grew heavier, thick with tension.
Karikalan and the guardians locked eyes, each waiting for the other to make the
first move. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the faint sound of
Maya's shaky breath behind him.
Karikalan's voice cut through the stillness:
"I have a question for you people. Can I ask it?"
One of the guardians sneered:
"What are you going to ask in this situation?"
Another chuckled darkly:
"Let him ask. I bet it's something like, 'Where will I
go after I'm slaughtered in your hands — hell or heaven?'"
A third leaned forward, his grin twisted:
"Don't worry about that. First we'll send you to heaven…
and then her, after we molest."
The guardians erupted in cruel laughter, their voices
echoing like a chorus of malice.
Karikalan's fists clenched, his knuckles whitening, but his
face remained unreadable — calm, cold, controlled. His voice was steady:
"No. I mean… how many of you are going to fight against
me?"
One guardian stepped forward, arrogance dripping from his
tone:
"To be honest, I alone will be enough to crush you
down."
Karikalan's eyes narrowed, his words sharp as steel:
"If that's the case, I'm warning you. I'll give you one
last chance — leave this place, or forget your family. Because after this duel,
you won't see them in the same condition again."
The guardian snapped, rage boiling over:
"What did you just say? You bastard… I'm going to kill
you!"
With a roar, he swung his blade wide, aiming for
Karikalan's head. But in a flash, Karikalan leaned down slightly, dodging the
strike with precision. His fist shot upward, connecting squarely with the
guardian's face.
The impact was thunderous. The guardian collapsed to the
floor, his nose shattered by the sheer force of the punch. Blood spilled, and
the room froze.
Everyone stared in shock. The laughter died instantly,
replaced by fear and disbelief. The guardians, once confident, now felt the
weight of Karikalan's fury.
Maya's lips trembled, whispering under her breath:
"He… he broke his nose with one punch…"
The hall was silent again, but this time it was not tension
— it was dread. The fight had begun.
The hall was frozen in shock. The guardian lay on the
floor, nose shattered, blood dripping, while Karikalan stood tall, his fist
still clenched. The silence was deafening — no one had expected such a
devastating blow.
Karikalan's voice rang out, steady but burning with fury:
"I pretended to be calm, tried to avoid this fight by
offering a true truce. But you provoked me… by saying the word 'molest' in
front of a minor girl who hasn't even reached eighteen. That was the last
straw. I've changed my mind. Now I will fight against anyone who tries to
prevent me."
He raised his hand, signaling with a sharp wave — a gesture
of defiance, a challenge to all who stood before him.
"Now… fight me, if you're born to a true father!"
The guardians stiffened, their laughter gone, replaced by
rage. The insult cut deep, striking at their pride. Their eyes flared, hands
tightening around their blades.
Maya, trembling behind him, whispered with her lips
shaking:
"Karikalan…"
The guardians, outraged by Karikalan's defiance, surged
forward with fury. Their blades gleamed under the dim light, their movements
fast and violent.
Karikalan's eyes narrowed, his body calm but ready. As one
guardian swung his sword downward, Karikalan tapped the man's elbow with
precision. The blade flew high into the air, spinning out of his grip.
Another guardian lunged with a heavy punch, but Karikalan
slipped away with a pivot, his body flowing like water. In the same motion, he
drove his fist into the attacker's liver — the strike sharp and devastating.
The guardian staggered, gasping for breath.
Without hesitation, Karikalan turned back to the first
opponent. His leg whipped upward in a powerful kick, connecting with the man's
chest. The force sent him flying down to the floor, crashing hard.
The hall echoed with shock. The guardians froze, their
confidence shaken. Karikalan's movements were swift, precise, and merciless.
The blade that had flown into the air descended, and
Karikalan caught it mid‑fall, gripping it firmly. Now armed, he stood tall, the
weapon gleaming in his hand.
The guardians surged forward, ten at once, their fury
filling the room like a storm. Karikalan, gripping a single blade, didn't
hesitate. His movements were fluid, precise — every wide swing of steel met
with a dodge, every reckless strike punished.
He slipped past one blade, his counter swift — a slash
across the guardian's back, leaving a crimson mark. Another came at him, and
again his blade carved a warning line.
Two guardians pressed harder, swinging in unison, their
blades slicing the air. Karikalan leaned low, throwing his weapon upward into
the air. In that instant, his body spun like a wheel — a spinning kick sweeping
across the floor. His right leg tapped one guardian's shin with brutal force,
sending him crashing down.
The second lunged, but Karikalan seized his wrist, twisting
with raw strength, and hurled him against the floor. The impact shook the hall.
The blade he had thrown descended from above, and Karikalan
caught it once more, standing tall, weapon in hand, surrounded by fallen
enemies.
The guardians, bloodied and shaken, regrouped, their rage
now tempered by fear. The fight was far from over — but Karikalan had already
proven he was no ordinary man.
The guardians staggered, their bodies marked with crimson
lines, exhaustion weighing heavy on them. Karikalan stood in the center, blade
in hand, his breathing steady, his face calm — as if the battle was nothing
more than a routine exercise.
On the other end, Pooja watched with wide eyes, her voice
trembling with awe:
"I've never seen a fight like this before. I thought
these guards were strong… until he arrived. He's striking each and every one of
them with precise blows to their vital points. And yet… he isn't even breaking
a sweat."
Her gaze hardened, confusion mixing with admiration.
"Even experienced fighters like Elara would have
struggled against my guards. But how did he lose to someone like Elara? Was it
carelessness… or did he lose with intent?"
The words hung in the air, heavy with suspicion. Pooja's
mind raced — was Karikalan hiding his true strength all along? Was his defeat
at Elara's hands a deliberate act, a strategy she couldn't yet comprehend?
Maya, clutching her chest, whispered softly:
"Karikalan… he's fighting like a storm. But… why did he
lose before?"
The guardians regrouped, fear etched into their faces. They
had underestimated him, and now the battlefield itself seemed to bend around
his will.
The guardians, desperate and drained, raised their final
weapons — guns — their hands trembling from exhaustion. The barrels pointed at
Karikalan, but their movements were sluggish, their aim faltering.
Karikalan's eyes sharpened. He saw their weakness, their
hesitation. In that instant, he surged forward.
The first guardian tried to fire, but before the trigger
could be pulled, Karikalan's fist crashed into his jaw, sending him sprawling.
Another raised his weapon, but Karikalan pivoted, his punch landing squarely on
the chest, knocking the breath out of him.
One by one, he struck them down. Every punch was precise,
every blow devastating. The sound of fists meeting flesh echoed through the
hall. The guardians' fear grew with each strike — their guns useless against
his relentless assault.
Karikalan's face remained calm, unshaken, his body moving
with unstoppable rhythm. He punched until each guardian collapsed, their
weapons clattering to the floor.
Maya, clutching her hands to her chest, whispered in
disbelief:
"He… he knocked them all down… with his fists…"