That same evening, in the town of Mancherial, far from the royal court of Champa, another gathering was taking place.
The interior of the large residence was filled with music, laughter, and the fragrance of wine and expensive incense, while dancers moved gracefully across the polished floor before the assembled men.
Ripudhaman sat comfortably among ten other vassal lords, while Keshivarma occupied a place among them with the confidence of a man who considered himself a king regardless of whether the royal court recognized the claim.
Cups of wine passed from hand to hand, musicians continued their performance, and the atmosphere was one of deliberate indulgence, as though the men gathered there had temporarily forgotten the political tensions surrounding them.
Keshivarma took another drink and looked toward Ripudhaman with a knowing smile.
"That Karna must have been greatly disappointed when he received your letter."
Ripudhaman gave a quiet nod.
"He is a man who follows dharma, and disturbing a yajna is perhaps the last thing he would willingly do. Still, he may believe that we arranged this yajna merely to avoid answering his summons."
One of the other lords laughed softly.
"We aren't?"
Keshivarma looked at him and smiled.
"We are not."
The man frowned slightly.
"The yajna is real, but it is being conducted for a purpose."
Ripudhaman leaned back in his seat, his expression calm.
"What matters is what comes at the end of the yajna."
Another lord looked between them.
"What comes after it?"
Keshivarma's smile widened, but he did not answer immediately.
"You will know when it happens."
He lifted his cup again and gestured toward the dancers.
"For now, enjoy the wine and the entertainment."
The men laughed, and Keshivarma continued, his voice becoming more serious.
"Tonight, enjoy as much as you wish. But from tomorrow, for the next eleven days, none of you will touch wine, nor will you indulge in any entertainment. During the yajna, you will follow a disciplined life. Your bodies must remain pure, your minds must remain focused, and your conduct must remain worthy of the purpose for which this yajna is being performed."
The vassal lords glanced at one another.
There was no argument.
One after another, they nodded.
Ripudhaman took another sip from his cup, his eyes resting thoughtfully upon the dancers, while Keshivarma remained silent for a while, watching the same performance with an expression that revealed nothing of what he was planning.
Then his gaze shifted toward the darkness beyond the open windows, toward the distant lands that belonged to Anga and, beyond them, toward the throne of Champa.
He smiled to himself.
"Let us see," he thought, "whether you can still keep that throne of Anga to yourself."
Meanwhile;
Far away from Anga, beyond its forests and kingdoms and deep within the immense silence of the Himalayas, another story had already begun.
Upon a barren stretch of mountain surrounded by snow and stone, an Asura stood upon one leg.
His body had become almost skeletal after years beyond counting.
His skin clung tightly to his bones, his hair had grown long and matted, and his limbs trembled faintly from the strain of an austerity that had continued far beyond the endurance of an ordinary being.
Snow had accumulated upon his shoulders and head, only to melt when the heat generated by his tapasya rose from his body.
He had neither moved from his place nor allowed his concentration to break, and through the countless seasons that had passed around him, one sound had remained upon his lips.
"Om Brahmane Namah."
Again and again, the name of Brahma had emerged from his dry throat.
Years became decades.
Decades became centuries.
Centuries became ages.
The mountains remained.
The winds changed.
Generations were born and vanished.
Yet the Asura continued his tapasya.
At last, after an age had passed, the air around him changed.
The cold mountain wind became still, and a radiant presence manifested before him.
Brahmadev appeared.
The Asura's eyes opened.
For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, hope entered them.
Brahma looked upon the emaciated being before him and spoke with unmistakable approval.
"An entire Yuga has passed, yet you did not lose your focus even once. You continued your tapasya without allowing your mind to wander from its purpose. I am greatly impressed by your dedication and your effort. Tell me, Somasura, what boon do you wish to acquire?"
Somasura's breathing became heavier as he looked upon the creator himself.
"Prabhu Brahmadev, if you are truly pleased with my tapasya, then grant me immortality."
Brahmadev regarded him calmly.
"That cannot be granted. Immortality is against the nature of creation itself. No being born into creation can simply be made eternal by a boon. However, you may choose the conditions of your death. You may ask for protection from particular races or beings, or you may shape your fate in whatever manner the laws of creation permit."
Somasura had clearly anticipated the answer.
He lowered his head for a moment, thinking carefully about the possibilities before raising his eyes again.
"Then grant me invincibility against the Devas, Asuras, Gandharvas, Kinnaras, Vanaras and Yakshas. Let none of them be capable of defeating me. Neither the Tridev nor their avatars, nor any of their divine shastras, shall be able to defeat me."
For a moment, Brahmadev simply looked at him.
Then a faint smile appeared upon his face.
"So be it."
The radiance surrounding Brahma faded, and his divine form disappeared from the mountain as quickly as it had appeared.
Somasura remained motionless.
Then his face slowly changed.
The exhaustion vanished beneath an expression of triumph.
He threw back his head and laughed.
"Hahahaha!"
His laughter echoed through the mountains.
"So, it has finally happened."
He stepped down from the leg upon which he had stood for so long, testing his body as though feeling the new power coursing through it.
"Now I am immortal."
His eyes turned toward the distant heavens.
"Indradev, you and your Devas have humiliated me enough. You forced me to hide myself in these mountains and live like a creature who had to fear every step outside his refuge."
His laughter returned, quieter this time, but filled with bitterness.
"Now it is time for my revenge."
Somasura looked toward the heavens once more.
"I will not come after you to take your throne. I have no need for it."
His expression hardened.
"But I will make certain that you receive no austerity power from yajnas at all."
The wind began to move again across the mountain.