The rules were sacred.
That was the lie everyone agreed to believe.
Stone pillars rose across the vast arena, each carved with ancient mantras that shimmered faintly—wards meant to restrain killing intent, seals meant to remind combatants that this was a test, not a war.
Yet Aarav felt it clearly.
The air itself was tense.
Above the arena, the five banners of the Gurukuls fluttered—Sun, Wind, Earth, Shadow, and the host academy—symbols of discipline masking centuries of rivalry. Instructors watched from elevated platforms, their gazes sharp, alert, and wary.
Professor Mādhav stood apart from the others.
Hands behind his back.
Smile gentle.
Eyes… unreadable.
"The first round of the Adhikāra Saṅgharṣa (Competition of Claims)," Mādhav announced, "shall be a Territory Trial."
The stone beneath the students' feet shifted.
Massive slabs rearranged themselves, forming a sprawling terrain—ruins, narrow pathways, elevated platforms, and sealed chambers glowing faintly with hidden resources.
"Each team will claim territory," Mādhav continued.
"Control earns points. Elimination reduces them."
He paused.
"Killing is forbidden."
Another pause—longer this time.
"But survival," Mādhav said softly, "is your responsibility."
The gates opened.
Aarav moved with Kunal and Ananya, Nandi trotting silently at his side, unnoticed by most.
The moment they crossed into the arena, wind howled.
Students from Vāyu Gurukul struck first—figures blurring into motion, blades of compressed air screaming through stone.
"Left!" Kunal shouted.
Aarav raised his hand.
⚡ Vidyut (Lightning) crackled outward—not violently, but precisely—splitting the incoming wind blade into harmless arcs of static.
Ananya stepped forward, eyes calm.
✨ Ākāśa-Tattva (Ether) rippled invisibly.
Space bent.
The air attacks dissolved, swallowed by folded distance.
The Wind students skidded to a halt, shock flashing across their faces.
"Retreat!" one barked.
They vanished like mist.
Kunal grinned. "Okay, I officially like competitions."
Nandi snorted. "Do not celebrate. The hunt has only begun."
Across the arena, far from Aarav's position, screams erupted.
A Sun Gurukul team clashed with Earth disciples—fire against stone, heat warping metal as gravity crushed flame.
An Earth student fell.
Hard.
Too hard.
The silence that followed was unnatural.
Instructors leaned forward.
The fallen student didn't rise.
Blood seeped into the cracks of the arena floor.
The seals flickered—hesitating.
A Sun disciple staggered back, eyes wide. "I—I didn't—"
The Earth student's chest did not move.
A chime echoed through the arena.
A life extinguished.
Murmurs turned into shock.
"Killing is forbidden," someone whispered.
"Then why—"
Mādhav's voice cut through the chaos.
"Continue."
The word landed heavier than thunder.
Aarav felt his stomach twist.
Nandi's voice echoed in his mind.
"Now you see. The rules are sacred. Life is not."
Within the deeper ruins, Karnik Daanav walked calmly.
Around him lay unconscious students—some breathing, some not.
His expression remained serene.
Inside his chest, the fragment pulsed.
"More… let me drink…"
Karnik clenched his jaw.
"Not yet," he whispered.
He extended his hand.
Darkness coiled—not explosive, not obvious—efficient.
A student from Pṛthvī Gurukul collapsed silently, eyes empty.
Karnik stepped over the body.
A smear of blood stained his heel.
He smiled faintly.
Aarav sensed it.
Not visually.
Not audibly.
A tear in the flow of existence.
"Stop," he said suddenly.
Kunal froze. "What?"
Ananya turned. "Someone's nearby."
Too late.
A shadow surged from above.
A blade—not metal, but condensed malice—aimed for Kunal's throat.
Aarav moved without thinking.
Space twisted.
Lightning followed.
⚡🌌
The blade shattered.
The attacker—a Tāmasa student—crashed backward, body convulsing as lightning burned through disrupted space.
He did not scream.
He did not breathe.
Silence.
Aarav stared at his trembling hands.
"I—I didn't—"
Nandi stepped closer.
"You acted," the guardian said. "That is all the universe records."
The seals around them flickered.
Then stabilized.
Somewhere, a bell chimed.
Another life gone.
High above, Professor Mādhav watched.
For a fraction of a second, his smile vanished.
So soon, he thought.
His fingers tightened behind his back.
"Kāla (Time)," he murmured inwardly, "you grow impatient."
As dusk bled into the arena, the trial was halted.
Bodies were retrieved.
Some alive.
Some not.
Mādhav's voice echoed once more.
"First round concludes," he said.
"Territory standings will be announced tomorrow."
His gaze swept the arena.
"Rest," he added. "Reflect."
Then—quietly—
"Survive."
That night, Aarav could not sleep.
Lightning hummed beneath his skin.
Space felt… thinner.
Nandi stood at the window, staring at the moon.
"The Asura fragment has tasted blood," the guardian said.
Aarav's voice was hoarse. "Karnik."
Nandi nodded.
"Tomorrow," Nandi continued, "he will no longer pretend."
Far away, in the shadows of the academy—
Karnik Daanav's veins darkened.
His smile cracked.
"Soon," the Asura Lord whispered. "Very soon."
The moon dimmed.
And the second round awaited.