Author's Notes:

I did April Fools last year, didn't have anything figured out for today and tomorrow, depending on your timezone. So you guys and girls get just another chapter, no-nonsense.

Really. There is no April Fools. I'm serious.

[Edited: 2/4/2018 (Several outstanding grammar issues)]


If only… they could only say to themselves in reserve or at the verge of death. If only the Rakshasa hadn't appeared and why of all in Akaash did it have to be Tarakeshwar, General of the North Gate? If only they had never gotten in the Demon Banisher's way, as much as they relished their Prince, they despised him for being the jinx in dragging them into a fight with a fearsome opponent in which they had no defence. But first and foremost….

If only they could bring out the full potential of their magic against these threats, it was their gifts in the arcane that defined them as Yaksha. Yet they could not call upon their illusionary magic nor were they strong enough to use the will of the mountain. Only the General and Prince Andhakan had been given the privilege of reading those tomes of Eternal Heaven.

The reason was a rather obscure one that was not noticeable to first time visitors of the Reliquary City. Every being had a weakness. The Rakshasa were perhaps the most enviously balanced in terms of abilities, physically and magical in nature compared to their counterparts. The Yaksha were physically frailer than the other more powerful entities. The humans may be all around weak, but their willpower and favour of the gods made them stand amongst them. Vanara were the pinnacle of physical strength but were unblessed with magical potential. It left them vulnerable to more magically inclined opponents who wouldn't bother with fair duels. That vulnerability was rectified with their aptitude for the works of the forge. Vanaran Steel was unmatched in its ability to cut through high quality steel as it would of magical defenses.

Their weapons were built not with normal steel but a material unique to the mountain which the reliquary had been built on.

Darkstone.

An obsidian-like stone that could be smelted as iron. Indestructible to ordinary alloys and resilient to corrosion. The Orichalcum of the Himavanas. However, there was one other feature that made it especially coveted even amongst the other races.

Darkstone held anti-magic properties.

Magic was like a current in the sea of winds flowing freely. But Darkstone like a dam devoured it and rendered the local area null of magic residue. No one knew where it came from or how it came into being save perhaps the Original Trimurti. This was a terrifying trait the Darkstone material held to magical users as it both weakened them and dispelled manifestations of magic beyond their bodies. It was also what kept their city safe from harm, built right within the Darkstone-rich deposits of the mountain. Not even the will of the mountain could enter freely, and it still couldn't.

Their sole monopoly over this metal was the edge in which the Vanara ape tribes held against all other races and the Rakshasa in particular, and it had become their most closely guarded secret in its manufacture as weapons.

Yet, on the eve of the war of the heavens, Varish, the High Chieftain of the Vanara. Brought forth their hidden trump out into the light of the Himalayas. The ultimate expression of their talents in the forges. A sword mace that possessed the highest concentration of Darkstone possible, the bane of weapons fueled by magic, like the Rakshasa King's sword. One of a kind and no other would ever be made again.

When the war had ended, and Eternal Heaven had emerged victorious, the weapon was sealed by its user, the mines were buried and the artefacts of the Vanara were protected by ancient spell traps. With his last breath, Varish. The last living Vanara alive, buried himself and the secrets of the Darkstone in the Reliquary City forever.

The Yaksha remembered the bite of Darkstone as magically incline entities as much as they envied it. And there was no greater treasure unmastered in the mountains than Kaalapatthagada. They could only hope for what power it could give to its wielder. The strength, the power, and the glory.

So how should they have known it would fall into the hands of the worst possible enemy to wield it in place of them?

Ajay could only answer this question with "actions that spoke louder than words". In other words, he smashed their heads into a pulp, rented their armour and broke their swords and spears. He would have never expected that this mace would have such a rich history, let alone the mountain itself.

Darkstone, the reason why the Yaksha couldn't employ magical abilities in the vicinity. The only exceptions seemed to be the Yaksha General and their nuisance of a Royal Bloodline. The will of the mountain magic seemed to be fundamentally different, much like the Demon Banishing Hexes. Both magics could be used within the proximity of this Darkstone material. Did that make them magic at all? Ajay had already tested it plenty on the Yaksha warriors in his way.

(BANG) (Rumble) Far to the west of here, the Yaksha General had engaged his Rakshasa counterpart in a fierce battle of melee combat. Their blows seem to rock the earth on which they stood. Bhaskar seemed to hold back on spell casting due to the mountain material while the Yaksha seemed to heavily rely on Natural Law magic. The very earth distorted and cracked as he manipulated gravity through this power and all it seemed to do was keep him from losing to the highly skilled Rakshasa. To a veteran of thousands of years of warfare, this was hardly something to phase him.

Ajay had inadvertently learnt this amidst the mass killings, Yaksha gore was thrown about and some entered his lips. But as much as he learnt about the Vanara and their trump card now in his possession, there was nothing about Shangri-la. Only gaps like there were of his childhood.

As if there was a content filter or some sort of safeguard in place upon their memories. A wise decision which delayed him from knowing more about the unseen forces of the Himavanas. However, he was not too disappointed. Because there was a much bigger dish than these lowly grunts for scrounging intel. While the warriors might have their memories safeguarded, the same might not be said for the haughty Prince.

"Where's that justice a moment ago, Coward Prince?!" He called out at the highest tone for the charge of the Elite Guards to hear him amidst the sounds of battle. His taunt was heard by every participant of the battle.

Today was a living nightmare to the Yaksha of the Shangri-lan Army. The human demon banisher was already hard enough, their generation had once heard of these human exorcists from their forefathers. Fierce warriors that were a force to be reckoned with due to their immunity to illusionary magic, the core of Yakshas' magic tomes and power. Wielding the power of the mountain, Lord Eternal was said to have defeated the Demon Banisher order along with the rise of Yalung, the unholy Asura.

The other was the remnants of the Rakshasa Akaashian Empire. And Bhaskar in particular, who was known by his real name as Tarakeshwar. The General of the North Gate, the significance of the direction did not only mean the race which the respective army faced and would defend against. But in the case of the North, there was no foes or at least potential foes. A reserve army that would turn the tide against a union of races rising against the Rakshasa. So, a very special task was given to the North Gate army, and that was to act where others would not, to fight battles the other armies would lose and emerge victorious. The races of the Himalayas feared the Northern Army the most despite many an Akaashian King's reign over them to withhold violence upon the races.

Ajay wiped the blood that splattered all over his body from the killing. It was either there wasn't enough blood, or the memories seem to be locked away with some sort of failsafe. Because he wasn't getting any additional information on the whereabouts of Shangri-la or the strength of Shangri-la. Someone was interfering, the mountains? Or was it this Eternal Heaven fella? In any case, their patience in safe guarding their intelligence had paid off against someone like Ajay who could Blood Read. If there was one thing he learnt, it was the Yaksha were weak. Incredibly weak from the long-enduring peace they had enjoyed for so long, whereas the Rakshasa were constantly at odds with the mountains. Things weren't too kindly as well for humanity either, in this they shared a common ground. But the Rakshasa saw everyone involved in the great betrayal of races and the death of their lord. This included humanity, just because it was a thousand years ago, this blood debt seemed to be passed on through generations.

(AAAAHHOOOOO)(BANG) Was it the bellow of the ash wolves or was it the howl of the mace?

The Yaksha had long dispelled the difference, they were both just as terrifying and always lead to the death of more of their brethren. So much death, they were not accustomed to seeing so many falling in front of them, especially their own.

His objective stood amidst the artificial fort of Yaksha shields and spears, caught between running and confronting him. At moments, it made sense for him to take advantage of his presence to rally his brethren. But when he met eyes with the monster that stole his inheritance, his body locked in place against his own will.

Ajay took the next stride towards him and death.

[Shields!] The Yaksha shouted in reply to their commander and locked their shields into a wall in front of Ajay.

It was inconveniencing him more than he had expected, not having firearms with him especially the slayer was beginning to get tiresome. The only reason the Yaksha was less than a threat they should have been was due to their magic being locked and the General wasn't leading them in suppressing him any longer.

This moment of no interference gave him the opportunity to unholster and deploy his bow. Although, he had seen what explosives did in the face of these magically imbued shields, nothing. Carefully observing his surroundings, he strung one of his remaining explosive tip arrows on the rest and pointed it over his head.

In response, the Yaksha recreated a Roman Legionnaire Testudo (Tortoise) Formation of the shield wall. (pow)

He let the arrow fly into the air, but the shaft continued to fly upwards to their confusion of why he wasted his shot. Ajay strung another shot and let fly the arrow slightly angled from his previous shot and it too flew upwards.

And then….

(BOOM)…. (rumble)

The sudden shaking of the earth caused both Yaksha and Rakshasa to halt and pass glances at their surroundings that tremored violently.

(BOOM) the second arrow impacted the ceiling, and that was when the tremor grew into a deafening sound as rock and boulder started to loosen from the remainder of the ceiling after the Yaksha breached a part of it.

The Yaksha in the area which of which he had fired upon the ceiling above was becoming disorganized as they saw the thousand tonne boulders imminent arrival. All they needed was the first boulder to crush the forward shield wall formations. These weren't ordinary boulders either, but unmined darkstone ore. With density greater than tungsten even in its raw form, and what's more was the Yakshas' inability to use their magic to aid them in defending themselves because of the nature of this ore.

The General of the Shangri-lan Army stared his way with bloodshot eyes, but he was unable to come to his prince's rescue, as Tarakeshwar put him at odds with his own survival.

[Get out of the way!] He said twirling the halberd at his opposition.

[Try me!] The Rakshasa blocked with one sabre and retaliated with the other one in hand in a dual wield fashion. His sole job was to give Ajay the time he needed to break this army, by depriving them of their prince. If his knowledge was correct, and Ajay did kill the Prince. The Army, who were ten thousand strong and yet could not protect him against a small force of Rakshasa and a human would not live to see tomorrow under the mandates of Eternal Heaven.

[Stay in formation! Damn you!] A forward commander roared at his soldiers that placed falling boulders as a priority over keeping the "Demon" back.

He spent too much focus on keeping the soldiers in order that he was too late to notice the monolithic darkstone come down upon him. (Spurt) The sound of his head getting crushed conveyed the brutality of Ajay's strike to the nearby Yaksha, further dampening their spirits and causing them to back away. This gave him the space to run between their lines to his objective.

But he knew the rocks would only fall for a while and they would reform again, it was difficult when he was the only one fighting an army. Albeit, he had the advantage of high bell slopes and the Rakshasa to watch his back.

As he moved quickly through the faltered lines, a shade of grey ran streaked on the side of his glance. An empty saddle bound to the giant ash wolf said its rider had been slain. It ran with a purpose, in the direction of the edge of the cliff opening and back to where it belonged. In its mouth, was a fallen Rakshasa. Ajay was willing to guess it was bringing its master's body home to the mountain of Akaash.

Then, a crazy thought passed his mind as quickly as he thought about the dead Yaksha in his way. Placing his thumb and middle finger against his lips he created a dog whistle similar to how he would always call Vajra.

The giant wolf turned to him but was caught between returning and answering the call. Ajay did not call out to it, nor did he use any other luring sounds. He simply stared deep into the wolf's yellow matching irises. His eyes blazed with determination and belief, translating a language beyond common tongue or animal sounds.

-Help me, and we'll avenge your master together!- was what he conveyed to the wolf.

[Die!] A Yaksha pikemen seemed to have forgotten the General's orders in the face of killing the threat once and for all. Perhaps it was for his own glory, since even the Prince was not facing him, then it was justifiable to spare him and reward him as well.

(Growl) [AAARRGGHH!]

But that possibility became non-existent as a trap shut full of five-inch fangs gorged deep into his body and his armour as if paper. His corpse ragdolled after being tossed aside. Ajay was face to face with one of the forgotten inhabitants of the Himavanas. Yet, he bravely held out a hand and rested it upon the wolf's head for a moment. Vapour from its nostrils blew against him powerfully, almost as if it were a mighty thoroughbred warhorse. But an Akaashian Ash Wolf was something more. Ajay ran his hand along its heavy grey pelt, running along till it touched the reins of the saddle on its back. With the reins in hand he clasped the saddle hook and lunged over the broad back of the wolf, landing in the saddle. When he did, a brief flash of memories went pass his mind quicker than he could say what.

"Jaa'o!" Almost out of instinct, Ajay knew the word to command his temporary mount to advance. He called out as he swung the reins to give it a tung indication.

(Growlll) "Hurrgh!?"

Like a spring being wound up till it was ready, the wolf leapt explosively and far quicker than Ajay had anticipated. The wolf already knew where he wanted to go. It covered ground quicker than Ajay took to get by every formation and was leaving an afterimage of himself far behind. With all that hidden sinew and muscle power propelling it forwards, the giant ash wolf didn't bother to run through and trample the Yaksha. It instead leapt over and kicked off the raised shields of the Yaksha warriors, crushing the shieldbearers in the process under its massive weight and force.

Catapulted through the air with each trample, Ajay and the wolf pounced upon the line right in front of the Prince.

[Guard!] A semi-important looking Yaksha stood behind the last phalanx of shields and spears, calling to the formation to keep on guard against the menace.

"Oi! Coward Prince! Save me the trouble and let me drink you." He grinned madly. This was the first they had ever heard of a human-devouring a Yaksha high blood, let alone mentioning it. It decayed their will little by little. But it was not as bad as the Prince who stood with a swearing forehead.

Ajay had little idea of how big a commotion he had caused amongst the Yaksha and Rakshasa alike. In their struggle to suppress the General of the Shangri-lan Army and the remainder of the forces, they witnessed an inextinguishable fire that dwelled within the soul of a vessel. A mortal coil, so frail it would come apart on its own through natural cause. Yet, this human fought against the Shangri-lan Army on his own. Beat them, terrorized them and enacted tyranny upon their very souls. Standing before his prey, mounted on a riderless ash wolf.

How could they, the Rakshasa wolf riders be at odds with this army then? He might be the vessel, but before that, he was Ajay (invincible). The very meaning of his name was visualized from his near-triumphant stand over the cornered Prince and his guard.

Just like "he" had been before.

[RRRAAAAKSHHASSAAAA!] Tarakeshwar released from his diaphragm a mighty roar that echoed throughout the mountains.

[[[RAKSHASA!]]] The rallied wolf riders answered along with the howl of their wolves, reminding their foes of who they were as they did themselves. And turned their attention back to the Yaksha with reignited strength from within.

The echo of the cries reverberates in his mind.

Suddenly, he was no longer within the mountains of the Reliquary City. But standing high over a battlefield, thousands of Rakshasa Warriors cladded in shining silver armour. Roaring his name in triumph. And at their feet were slain Vanara, Humans and Yaksha. It was a victory over one of the many defeats of the alliance of races in the Himavanas. Perhaps, it was the very last victory they savoured over the races.

Before the betrayal.

Who's betrayal? With a blink of his set of eyes, the scene before him returned to the anarchy of the Reliquary City. Ajay bit his lip in dissatisfaction, more hidden memories were pouring in to fill the gaps of his life as Ajay Ghale.

-I am Ajay Ghale. I am Ajay Ghale.- He reminded himself.

Ajay looked up at the Prince that lay before him.

"And I'm gonna devour you here, one way or another!" Following his desires, the ash wolf lunged at the commander of the formation with an open jaw.


There was a name going around for them, these crazed soldiers of the Himavana Federation.

Geronimo Jims or by their acronym GeeJays.

A sarcastic joke by a supply and maintenance Captain in regard to their willingness to go complete suicide bomber when they received enough hits from bullets or were mortally wounded somehow. It was the behaviour mostly adopted by desperate defenders of a losing fight, or jihadist extremists which the middle east had no shortage of. Even if the acronym had no remote connection to their country of origin. But these were supposedly professional soldiers, and they were winning this battle despite the attrition losses. Their will was perhaps the greatest edge against the US forces.

It still didn't change the fact that they, the United States Military had been attacked on an ally's soil. Who the hell were these guys? One thing was clear from their tenacity, they were pissed and they came with a purpose.

The operatives dragged the most recently acquired prisoners for questioning. Their case officer was most eager since this was the first time they'd captured actual soldiers that surrendered. Or so his Pakistani counterpart in the ISI intelligence informed him when they were turned over. Cuffed with bags thrown over their heads and bruises from some roughening to soften them for the interrogation. Entering a basement room with no windows through a courtyard of the two-acre compound, lined with barbwire and a two-storey building at its centre.

A cold damp place, with only a single bulb to illuminate the place. By a sink with a mirror, was a middle-aged man in the midst of a lengthy shave. Neatly aligned on the basin were his numerous balms, shaving creams and spare razor clips. He used a good old fashion razor to swipe off the last rebel hair that made up his wild moustache into a neat one with a decent amount of beard left. Now, he was almost indistinguishable to any wandering follower of Islam. He knew it was useful to grow it out in case of shit hit the fan and required him to escape. No wonder the special forces boys all grew out Amish beards.

"Nice work, Jim. Leave the rest by the wall, bring that one on the chair.

As instructed, the operative brought said prisoner to the chair and cuffed him to it while the rest were tied against separate pillars that supported the structure above.

"Alrighty then, what do we have here today?" The spook rubbed his hands together after wiping the residue aftershave off them with a towel.

The operative pulled off the bag off the seated prisoner, revealing an expressionless Asian. The spook was taken a little aback by the appearance of the GeeJay even though it failed to show on his face. But upon internal reflection, he was affirmed that this wasn't a fake his Pakistani counterpart sent over. The Himalayas, specifically the Kyratis were noted to having Nepali Sherpa, Sikhs, Hong Kong Chinese, Indians, Punjabis and apparently some distant descendant of the Huns. How true was that, is another story.

"Hope your trip was comfortable." The spook started off, but the only reply was a silent composed stare.

"You don't need to put up a front, kid. You're in safe hands, in fact. You and your buddies are the lucky four that'll tell me what I want to know." The spook turned around rolling his sleeves as he ran a hand over the table with a white sheet, numerous sharp yet precise instruments lay their neatly. Where it may have been designed with a medical application in intent, it was being repurposed in the hands of the spook, also a skilled interrogator.

"I'm thinking of a letter, A. Do you wanna guess?" He asked while tapping a syringe filled with truth serum fluids.

"I'll give you a spoiler then, but the next try I won't be giving hints. It's admiration." He wiped an alcohol swipe over the soldier's neck. The spook was just inches away from the soldier's face and said, "We've not been this screwed since Cuba. Hell, your boss might be the second coming of Fidel Castro, although I can't ever imagine a Cohiba in his mouth."

The entire time he talked, the soldiers showed no signs of troubled expression, it was the same dull look.

"…. I'm thinking of something that starts with B." The syringe hovered over the soldiers, neck and went in. Fluids were pumped into his bloodstream quickly rushed to his head.

There were some signs of irritation but not a word came out from the soldier.

"I'm thinking of the letter B!" The operative delivered a punch to the soldier when he failed to answer the pop quiz.

"You feel that? It's a concoction I had some input in, we call it "Fringe Sunkist" It multiplies all sensations tenfold, any sensation. Jim has just given you some light taps and you can already feel every inch of his fist."

"Now, the letter B." He awaited a response, but the soldier still didn't give him an answer. In fact, his eyes showed no tolerance against what should have been extremely painful.

"You're an interesting fella, you know that?" The spook laughed as he was overjoyed to see shave a resilient captive.

"I'll have to use a secret weapon on you, my friend." He tapped the soldier's cheek with his palm. The operative released the cuffs and placed a hand in front of the spook on the table.

"This is gonna hurt….. a lot." The spook said before thrusting an iron needle into the base of the soldier's palm, passing close to a vital spot.

The soldier gritted his teeth but nothing more. This still showed some progress in the eyes of the spook. Twisting the iron needle that impaled his hand from the palm to cause maximum discomfort. The last time they did this to an ISIS member, the prisoner fainted. The spook was not impressed, in the end, the Daesh were simply amateur radicalists with upstart ideals.

"I'm a generous man, kiddo. I'll still give you time to think about it." The spook missed the old days where an al-Qaeda equivalent would still be able to swear curses at him and threaten to murder his family. But it seemed that these GeeJays were now his favourite clients.

"One more time, what starts with the letter B?" He said to the soldier, but again, reluctance to talk. The spook sighed and waved to his right-hand man as he unholstered his sidearm. The operative gagged the soldier and placed the bag over his head.

(Bang) The spook's pistol discharged and the operative ordered his other operators to move the gagged soldier behind the curtains.

"He didn't do so well, let's hope the rest of you are up for it." The spook declared as he pointed to the next soldier to interrogate.

The head operative lugged the next man onto the chair and removed his bag after cuffing him to the chair. This time, it was an actual Kyrati.

"You've heard how the game works, so shall we get started? What starts with B?"

The reply the Kyrati gave was a goblet of projectile spit that managed to reach the spook's face from quite a distance. (paak) The spook slapped the soldier in retaliation.

"You hit like your wife." The soldier responded in the thick Himalayan accent but in English nonetheless.

"At least we know you can talk. And don't you mean your wife?" The soldier stared at him with a grin and replied with satisfaction.

"No." The operative slugged him good with a haymaker punch, smashing his teeth together until it almost came apart. Although, that was the doing of a pair of brass-knuckles he donned.

"Will you have what your friend was having or would you prefer-.."

"One cuck torture supreme- Gurgh!" The operative threw another punch.

"It's a good thing I'm not married." The spook chuckled as he forcefully turned the soldier's head.

"It's a tragedy no one'll love you except mom."

"She died long ago. I was raised by dad."

"I see… the way you touch me seems to reflect that." Quite the gibbed tongue this one had, the operative's hands were worked quite a lot that he had someone else substitute him while he watched.

"What starts with the letter B?"

The soldier spat out blood from his puffed up and bruised face.

"B is for the bitch that quit halfway from those love taps." He said with glee at the operative who walked forward quickly and stuck down at the soldier with twice the amount of ferocity.

"Jim! Stop!" But the violent man continued to pummel. With a snap of his fingers, the other two operatives came forwards to pull him away.

"Still yapping now, huh?!" The operative taunted him.

"Look, buddy, you really need to start giving me something or I'm gonna let him go wild on you again."

The soldier chuckled in pain but gave the same indifferent answer as the first prisoner. The spook sighed, but he still had two more others to try the warm-up session before they were taken with them in the withdrawal to a safehouse out of the Himavanas reach. He was actually feeling annoyed they were this resilient, it showed he was losing his edge due to the weakness of the current sport.

The spook waved the head operative to proceed with the beatings since it got him to talk more, but not before injecting the truth serum cocktail into the soldier.

"One last chance-."

"Fuck your chance!"

"Fine. Jim, he's all yours." The spook jumped on the table and sat back.

The operative was about to proceed with his treatment when a reply came from the remaining bagged soldiers.

"Badala."

With a raised hand, the operative held up to indicate him to stop.

"Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Right answer! Someone finally got it. So….." A motion to the prisoners told the other operatives to go over and retrieve the right one depending on who talked.

"How'd you guess it?"

"You kept insisting on B when you could have gone to the next alphabet, your thoughts are as predictable as they come." His words struck a nerve in the spook's pride. But the operatives found the talker and pulled him up and threw in on the chair after removing the other soldier they cuffed to the pillar again with the bag.

The prisoner who talked seemed to be very young from the tone. Yet, there was something unnerving about the way he expressed his words that made the spook a little reluctant to pull the bag off his head.

"You seem like a more compliant among the other two, will the last be better than you, I wonder."

"Farhan had a bet with me, so he wasn't obviously going to admit it hurt like hell. Eh, Sandha pela?"

"Kameenay (Bastard)." The previous soldier coughed out a reply to the present one's words.

The spook seemed a little more comfortable with taking off the bag himself and did so. Underneath was another Kyrati, even younger than the other two but an air of arrogance dwelled from his look and expression that seemed to be from birth.

"And what would your name be?"

"Isn't it customary to give yours before asking for another's?" The prisoner posed this question/

"It's Winslow."

"The Winslow?" The soldier asked him which made him feel weirded out.

"Yeah?" Was the spook's answer anyway.

"Hmmm, the Punjabi specifically expressed you were a really fat fuck."

The Punjabi? Did he mean his Pakistani liaison intelligence officer? The spook named Winslow wondered.

"Perhaps it was a translation error…." The soldier murmured to himself.

"Hey!" The head operative called out to make him focus back on the spook Winslow as he was going at his own pace.

"Where were we?- Ah! Yes! Jeevan Hamal. Solder of the Federation."

"Pft!... Really? Is that it?"

"What? Not mainstream enough? Oh! I'm from special forces, the most elite prestigious and fanciful establishment in all the army." The soldier named Jeevan obviously made a mockery of all the special forces operatives in general, including the ones in this basement with them.

Just as the operative stepped forward, Jeevan turned specifically to him and asked, "Are you going to prove me, right?" And for once, the operative's steps were halted and actually took a step back after those sharp eyes looked at him.

"Poor lighting, damp place, low roof. This is a bad place to work." Winslow didn't know whether to laugh or not as it would affect his first impression upon the prisoner. He was supposed to be the interrogator here.

"Well, your friends out there are making an excellent mess out there that we have to rely on here for now." Winslow got off the table and stood in front of him.

Jeevan turned and faced the head operative but called out to the soldier with him named Farhan. "Oi, Chutiye! How many times did this behnchod punch you?"

While the operative didn't know what that meant, he knew it was some sort of insult he used to address him specifically.

"Twenty-two. Were actually fifteen soft ones, but I'll give him the pity card and say it was the first number. Ok?" Even in his state, the soldier Farhan continued to taunt that operative in particular. Because those punches meant nothing to him, the operative only shouted for him to shut up.

"Right, that'll be forty-four punches in return before we put you down for good." For the first time, the operative had realized he'd been threatened and was caught between a reflex of slugging a punch at Jeevan, which missed his face with a slight cant of his head. But the eyes were planted deeply on the operatives which made him step back quickly. "That's not including the dishing you gave Xiang Lou. By the way, if you knew he was dumb would you still beat him?" Jeevan asked of the operative to see how he reacted to forcing a handicap mute to "speak".

"You really say the funniest of things!" Winslow was too cracked to continue.

"Am I?" Jeevan asked calmly, too which Winslow stared at him with an unamused expression.

"Since you answered correctly, let's hear all about Badal-."

"I'm thinking of something that begins with C." Not only was he interrupted, but this time Jeevan was the one asking him that question. The tied up soldiers that could hear laughed their asses off, including the one they faked killing.

Winslow delivered a powerful slap from his rubber-gloved hand.

"I'm the one asking the questions here!"

To which Jeevan replied, "There's no need to be upset, Officer Darryl Winslow." And surprised Winslow deep down, he had not spoken of his first name at all, yet this Jeevan knew it.

"To be brutally honest with you, me and the boys were expecting more from a person of your status. We even had Four Virtue agents run counter-interrogation exercises just to prep for today."

"Wait, you intentionally turned yourselves in?"

"Yeah." Jeevan's simple reply caused Winslow's hairs to rise as he became suspicious of such an act.

"Be happy, Darryl. Your name turned up on the highest roll out on the CIA database of who's the best "hands-on" case officer in the Pakistani theatre." A hand reached out a grasped Jeevan's uniformed collar.

"Now you listen here, you better start spilling your guts out or Jim will do it for real!" The operative was already preparing his large bowie knife.

"Don't worry, Darryl. You'll soon know everything. In fact, you my friend have a very special ticket from Badala to Durgesh."

"What?"

"It's a little place up on the snowy mountain tops. It's like Fantasy Island, except it won't be like it."

The operative was already stepping forward to physically kill one of them for real.

"Willis Huntley is currently there. You can ask him yourself."

An eerie atmosphere stalked between them with a long prevailing silence that was broken with nervous laughter from Winslow's end.

"You're a keeper, I'll give you that, kiddo. I bet, you'd be a wonderful teaching instrument to all the little CIA agent wannabes in the "Farm"." He laughed it off whilst revealing some of the plans that were for Jeevan. But the latter just smiled even wider.

"Perhaps, you would be a better training aid for our up and coming agents."

"I don't see that happening."

"Oh, but I assure you, Darryl…. It already is." (rumble) The dust from the ceiling falling down under the illumination of single bulb said there was a commotion up top. It said a lot considering that the basement to their knowledge was double brick layered to trap sound from inside and outside. So it had to be a really big explosion to rock them.

"That must be the signal," Jeevan said as he looked at the ceiling.

"What signal?" Winslow asked as he motioned to the two operatives to go up and check.

"Say, what begins with the letter C?" Once again, using his own methods against him with greater intimidation. Winslow became anxious to see up top for himself than await the reports of those he could not trust over his own eyes.

(ching) The sound of a metal link breaking resounded in the small confines of the basement. Then the light bulb suddenly shook around its single dangling wire and gave momentary lumination to other parts of the basement except for in front of Winslow.

"Gurrgh! Garrggh!" The sound of someone getting beat up could be heard. The wrestling was happening nearby, yet he could not see clearly as the light bulb broke against its cover and shattered. Making the whole basement pitch black, then the wrestling sounds stopped and daunted the room with silence.

"Jim?!" Winslow called out as he fumbled with his pistol as well as a zippo in his pocket to light up the surrounding.

(flick) (flick) Of all the times it his trusty zippo chose to fail him for anything other than lighting cigarettes was beyond him.

"Here, lemme get that." A hand took the zippo from him and flicked it several times before it lit up.

"Jesus, Jim. Thought you actually lost to-." His sentence halted when he saw that the person who took the zippo from him wasn't Jim, his enforcer. But Jeevan the prisoner, and all three prisoners untied and uncuffed.

His master hand holding the pistol raised towards its target but was stopped at a half angle by a firm hand wrapped around his wrist. "Gurrgh!" A kick was delivered to his gut which floored Winslow, he coughed out heavily as the kick had weight to it and took the air out of his lungs.

Then his collar was pulled, and he was dragged along with a strong force towards the steps. He ascended roughly, banging his elbows and tailbone against the steps as the force that dragged him was bringing him out of the basement faster than his feet could lift his body.

(bump) Then the door opened to the outside and the harsh glare invaded his eyes that he had to shield them to reaccustom them to the light.

"Huh!" He physically gasped as he witnessed the scene before him. The compound, which was their safehouse and staging area for operations around the region had been flattened into rubble. All that was left were jutting pieces of brick and wooden structures.

The sounds of a war machine traversing behind him made him turn to see an entire battalion of Grey and Navy-Blue pixeled uniforms unlike the Himavanan Grey and Red ones the GeeJays wore. He caught sight of an emblem on the shoulder of a sentry, a swooping golden bird clutching a sabre. The words below were in Latin, yet Sunday school for Winslow forty years ago paid off at this very moment. Per Cicatrices, Meministi Nos. Or affectionately, in English: "By our scars, you remember us." This was a different kind of unit from the fanatics the Army and Marines were dealing with out there, these were the special forces of the Federation. A line of operatives kneeling with their hands to their head could be seen under the supervision of some of these soldiers. Jim was already being kicked around by that Kyrati he roughed up earlier in an eye for an eye manner. Winslow was not oblivious to the events that occurred here, even if a stinging pang of pain hung over his heart to accept the facts here today.

He had been caught. While his compound was heavily manned by at least fifty men, they couldn't fight off a battalion easily, yet he only saw a fifth of the original number left of his operatives from Special Activities Division.

"Be grateful, Darryl Winslow. You were worth sending an entire battalion of Jatayu Paras to capture. Your country will forget about you, but we won't. It's time the United States relinquish its mantle of responsibility to everyone else." Winslow looked up in horror at the auditor of his capture, wearing an expression that didn't fit his age or supposed maturity. A belittling smile.

A squad of men came forward and lifted him from the ground and cuffed him.

"Actually, there's one last thing, Darryl. I wanted to ask you." The men stopped and turned him around. Giving clear notion that this soldier Jeevan was of a higher rank amongst these soldiers than he had anticipated.

"In this situation that describes your predicament, what starts with C?" He asked before letting out an insatiable and diabolical laughter that would forever reverberate in his mind so long as he continued to be of use to the Interrogators and jailers of Yuma's dungeons of Durgesh.

The soldiers gagged him and restraint his limbs with iron rods to prevent him from trying to do anything that would benefit him. Someone came over with pliers and a light and inspected his forcefully opened jaw whilst on the move. The entire process was agonizing, yet they continued. Plucking out a soft enamel that contained his only means of "escape" in the literal form. A cyanide capsule. From here on out, he already knew it was hopeless.

"… This is a nice knife." Jeevan picked up and twirled Jim's knife within his fingers skillfully. An NCO came to him informing him of the latest developments. But these were no longer related to Winslow.

What starts with C and describes his predicament?

C is for catastrophe.


The screams were the loudest from the corner where the Prince and the approaching demon were. The giant ash wolf that had become a temporary companion saw to that, flaying the caught Yaksha in its mouth until the gore spread everywhere.

The Yaksha who enjoyed a long enduring peace without the sight of bloodshed in their midst bore witness to the cruelty of the world under the mountain. With the help of the ash wolf, Ajay was able to quickly manoeuvre wherever he wanted to go at that spilt-second the formations underwent changes. Soon, fifty of the personal guard had been killed out of the hundred assigned.

And to his utter surprise, after the fifty-first had perished under the jaws of the wolf, the sea of Yaksha between him and the Prince parted for him.

[What are you doing?!-…. Your Royal Bloodline needs you! Protect me, fools!] Sensing he was in a state of utter peril, the prince backed away slowly even as he shouted at the non-compliance of the demoralized men. The Yaksha had yet to learn the craft of war and the importance of keeping morale amongst men. The elder Yaksha was nowhere to be seen to ensure that.

[Traitors! I will inform Royal Father of your treachery! Human!... I will remember this!] This was the last time he ever got to scream at the soldiers he depended on all this time. He also roared at Ajay before digging his hand into his pocket and pulling out some sort of mirror badge.

With a chant, the air surrounding the area seem to undergo a shift in reality. This change grew gradually, that even Ajay sensed he was doing something. -I will remember this!- He said, meaning that he would have the luxury to recall this. Therefore, he was escaping.

Tugging the reins, the Ash Wolf lunged forwards at maximum speed towards the Yaksha Prince. Distortions were beginning to form in realspace, that was when he confirmed what the Yaksha was really doing. While he couldn't manifest magic within the reach of Darkstone, he could still use magical items in the vicinity.

Ajay was not going to let this opportunity slip by as he escaped and left the army that was supposed to rescue him.

"Jaa'o!" Ajay commanded the Ash Wolf to run as fast as wolfly possible.

The ash wolf opened its mouth to gorge into the Yaksha Prince, but then he threw something in quick succession at them that materialized into a shield. (thung) The teeth of the wolf struck the magical object and caused it to flinch as the shield seemed undamaged.

(THUNG) With a swipe of the mace, the shield was like paper against a brick. The shield was blasted away in an out of shape form like discarded rubbish.

[Tsk! Damn the gods!] Nervously, more items were being thrown their way. This time, it was flying swords with talismans attached to them. Hovering and flying through the air from some distortion in physics surrounding these objects.

With a point of his finger, five of these swords shot towards Ajay and the Ash Wolf like a pack of angry bees. His wits were sharpened as these flying swords gave a dangerous feeling. They didn't directly come for him at first, instead encircled him from all directions in a gyroscopic outline motion.

At first, they were cruising through the space around him. But then pivoted 90 degrees towards him and flew at him like a bullet from a rifle. For the first second, his location displaced from the point of attack thanks to the wolf's natural instincts. But the next time that happened, he wouldn't be so lucky. Another one came from his left flank, which he dodged easily. Immediately, another came from behind in an attempt to strike him from the blindspot. His body pivoted out of the way, but Ajay was beginning to understand what would happen next. The next two came exactly at the same time from different directions.

Kicking off the saddle and turning in mid-air, he had been forced to dismount the wolf. These "remote" weapons seemed enchanted to limit an opponent's movement for an opportune moment for the user to strike while they left an opening somewhere. Why didn't the Prince use this sooner when he got to understand how Ajay operated? These weapons might have a limit to them, perhaps a one-off use. He probably didn't think Ajay was worth using it on. Either way, it was doing a good job at keeping him occupied while the Prince continued to chant to open the rift.

A sword came awfully close and shredded his shirt but failed to graze him, for the time being. With so many swords coming in from different attack vectors and at such speeds, it would have disheartened most who came up against such a system of weapon.

-I'm not most people.- (Thang) Predicting the probability of where one of the swords would come in from, he raised his weapon at the ready by the time it arrived. His mace struck a sword that came at him from the left flank, bring the true meaning of sword breaker back into the picture, crumpling the swords into a hideous piece of bent metal. The presence of Darkstone didn't seem to affect it to Ajay's surprise. The Prince was visibly shaken, as Ajay destroyed another of his precious protective treasures with a mere swing of "that" mace.

With one gone, he would have thought his job would get easier. However, as if sensing the loss of their brethren, the swords came screaming at him with quicker recovery and heavier killing intent. Almost as if there were alive. With an even fiercer approach, Ajay was sure they would come down hard if one more of their brethren fell to his mace. He continued to have a close brush with death as the swords now grazed the armour that barely protected him from their sharpness. There was something about these swords that his instincts said if he was cut, it was game over. He was put in a bad spot without further ammunition for his range weapons and expendables like grenades. And the Prince was getting closer to completing his chant with that boon object in his hands.

Ajay also noticed the collapsing ceiling was starting to drop fewer rocks and in a smaller size as things were getting settled. Sooner or later, the army would come to the Prince's aid once more and he'd be back to square one or even miss this chance to kill the prince.

Kill the prince? Why did he want to kill him? Was that the whole point of all this? When did his objective of escaping and buying time for the rest to escape become a manhunt for the haughty Yaksha Royalty? Even if he was the auditor of all of these events, Ajay should have just let well alone. But every fibre of his being screamed for the death of this being. Why?

(Thang) "Argh!" His momentary distraction cost him dearly as the swords flew closely packed and struck him in unison, taking him off his feet. Ajay had fallen at the mercy of mere objects.

(Growl) (Thang) Not to be left out of the picture, the ash wolf joined him in his struggle against the scary flying swords. Biting onto one of them that circled around to reenter attack by the fuller, the sword actively tried to break free, but the wolf held it down with the intent to prevent its further interaction with the other swords. The part which made Ajay affirmed the swords' consciousness was when they turned away from Ajay. The remaining three swords went for the wolf instead. Ajay and the ash wolf had a split-second glance at each other. If he was the wolf's rider and for Ajay his wolf, perhaps he would have come to his aid immediately. For a rider was bonded to their mount for life. That moment, barely a second passed yet seemed like an eternity.

The wolf's eyes burned with the fury and resentment it held for the Yaksha. For slaying its master and companion Rakshasa. The wolf made the call and applied its hatred coursing through its jaw, through its adamantine razor teeth, crushing the enchanted flying sword in its teeth.

Enraged, the vengeful swords plunged into the wolf, smearing its ash pelt with ruby red blood. The wolf was unflinching as it limped its way towards the corpse of its companion. And finally, before the corpse-

(AAWWWOOOHHH) The wolf unleashed a powerful death cry, one that would forever be etched into memory by those that remembered it. Its carcass slumped against the hand of its departed master.

That visage, Ajay etched into memory. And with it, a stinging pain in his heart made heavy.

Why did it hurt? Ajay questioned himself. To see the struggle of an enemy. Why were they so adamant on their affairs with him? Why were the Rakshasa throwing their hopes on him?

Ajay had no answer to that question. Once again, his heart became conflicted. Because while both sides gave their earnest desires and dreams of innocence. Neither of them could live side by side with one another.

Just like Golden Path Amita and Sabal. Two heads could not cooperate in one body, they wanted total control they wanted only their freedom.

-Stop throwing your hopes on me! I am nothing!-

"(Sigh)…." It was happening again. Two sides were making him pick them over the other. The Rakshasa wanted all of the Himavanas, the Human inhabitants just wanted to live like they always had or better. And Ajay felt deep down that whichever he picked, the other was certain to die out.

-Esha, is there really no way for you to spare my people?-

To watch the two-sides fight over their cause more just than the other, Ajay was just too tired of it all. But what if the option never existed? Those two sides would still fight to the bitter end.

Ajay got up with the help of his mace.

"….. I will save everyone who needs saving." Ajay swore a new oath to himself, past, present and future. Be it Rakshasa or Human, he would save them both, even if it was from themselves. He would intervene in their strife, the strife that Eternal Heaven most certainly approved of.

This time, this life would not go to waste. At the last moments of his previous life as Ajay Ghale, he cried out against the cruelty of the world for no being able to do anything noteworthy of a cause.

He was not going to make the same mistake twice. It would be a difficult venture, a process that would most certainly cost lives in equal measure, perhaps even his own. But he would still do it, he believed there were means for co-existence. If it cost greatly, he would still search for a way to achieve it. If both sides could finally come to terms with one another.

He may just be some sort of hybrid between the two races, but he held their respect in some form or another. Somehow, he felt there was someone to thank for making him realize this, but his memory failed to even give a description of one. But before that could be achieved, there was still one deed left to be done.

The wolf entrusted him with the continuation of their retribution upon the Yaksha, he saw it in its eyes. If the giant ash wolf had been a human or Rakshasa, the words transitioning through expression would have been no different. The Yaksha were interlopers, he didn't care if they were lords of the mountain. The Himavanas had more than one race.

To break this army's will and allow the Rakshasa to leave, he had to kill this son of a bitch right here, right now.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" He called out to the swords still impaled within the wolf as their hatred for the wolf ran beyond the notions of death, he faced the chanting Andhakan as well.

Raising the Darkstone mace with its edge pointed towards its target, Ajay flung the mace like a javelin towards the helpless Prince whose eyes widened in fear at the moment a life-threatening motion was inevitable. Should he dodge? Then, he would have to start the chant all over again because the gate would collapse. Could the boon hold for a retry? He was not sure.

[Keh!- Return!] He called out to the swords that swung out of the carcass, prioritizing his commands above all else. The swords bypassed the flying mace with unmatched speed and stood between the mace and their master.

(Thang) The first sword broke and screamed out its will into the air. Yet the mace still flew true to its target.

(Thang) The second swords broke as well, managing to slow the mace gradually only.

(Thang) But by the third sword, both successfully stopped the mace that fell to the flow and was still intact….

" …. -Banish this writ of karma! 4th Demon Banishing Hex, Karmic Severing!" Lacking interference from the swords meant that Ajay could have a chance to chant his own form of magic in the form of Demon Banishing Hexes.

The one he chose to deal with the final sword was Karmic Severing. Severing the karma, the sword had bonded to its master, the Yaksha Prince.

An immaterial blade passed effortlessly through the writ of Karma that existed between the Prince and the enchanted sword. Making it collapse to the floor lifelessly.

[Purrrt!] The forced severing caused the Prince to spit out blood, but with concentration, he managed to maintain his focus on the rift.

(BANG) A burst of air pressure signalled the newly formed rift between here and somewhere safe, his patience had paid off.

With such a powerful rift in their centre, there wasn't a being within the Reliquary City that didn't see what was going on over at the Prince's corner. He was trying to escape. But not just that, he had provided everyone else a means of leaving this nightmarish ground, unlike the eternal paradise that was Shangri-la.

So the most natural thing happened. A stampede of Yaksha warriors from the Shangri-lan Army opted to leave over fighting for their own possible demise be it a Yaksha victory or not. The Rakshasa Riders watched as the warriors shamelessly abandoned their pride as warriors. Abandoned their post, deserted their General and left their liege to his own demise.

Seeing that his Prince had opened the rift that should not have been opened, the General too turned and speed off in the direction of the rift. Smashing the lesser Yaksha in his way aside, like it was every man for himself. The Rakshasa riders were going to report this when they returned, and how high morale would be for their brethren to know how shallow the hearts of their enemy were.

The stampede came so fast that Ajay barely had time to react to the hysteria the Prince had inadvertently caused for abandoning his troops in their dire need coming back to bite him. His priority was retrieving the mace over going for the Prince since it would boost his survivability rate.

Members of the yaksha began to enter the rift and disappear through the other side, all the while the auditor of the rift was roaring over the crushing stampede that blocked him from his own planned escape. In the distance, the Yaksha General floated closer which spelt trouble for Ajay since that was a serious opponent to contend with.

Even when being within a metre from the terror of the Shangri-lan Army, they seemed to prioritize their own well-being over everything else. Ajay was slamming his mace into warriors that were pushed along the stampede, to keep them from making him a part of their Yaksha river of bodies crushing each other.

[You are all cowards! Your bloodlines I will erase!] The Prince yelled in anguish! But the Yaksha amongst the crowds shouted back at him.

[To hell with your campaign!]

[All of Shangri-la will know of Andhakan's cowardice!] His face turned visibly pale upon their threats.

He might live but they would be the ones to tell the tale of his stack of humiliating failures today.

[Raaargh!] Without distinction, he slashed through the hordes of his own brethren with his sword. Surprising them and surprising the General of the Army who wrinkled his brows. Close by, Tarakeshwar and his mount were doing their best to catch up, trampling some of the Yaksha in the process.

Ajay was a few bodies away from the Prince who was just as close to the rift as he was. But in his desperation, he cleaved through his own soldiers to get to safety. Ajay had really no other shortcuts but to keep at his killing to get to the Prince just as he was fighting for survival.

-Just him at least! I will not let you escape to harass me another day!- Ajay decided that keeping the tide behind him away was getting in the way of an escaping target. So he turned to focus entirely on getting to the Prince. The wave stuck him from the back, yet the Yaksha couldn't lift a hand on him because their limbs were squashed or Ajay wasn't impeding in their escape so much as assisting in removing competition in front.

The rift was showing signs of weakening and all who were trying to get through were moving in more frantically. With a final push from all sides, Ajay was right before Andhakan as he reached the rift. Raising his mace whilst in the air to strike down upon that accursed Yaksha. The General of the Yaksha too had reached the rift and thrusted out his halberd. Tarakeshwar had caught up and swung his swords down to behead the General before he lay a hand on Ajay.

(VRRRRRRRRR-BANG) The rift collapsed, and a white light engulfed them all.

Ajay brought a hand up to his eyes to rub them. They were open slightly, but the brightness had yet to go away. But there was something strange about the air, the instant it wavered past his nostrils. Not just the air, but the overall climate was different. The sound of a stream, a breeze blowing gently, and the call of birds echo in the distance gave a very different atmosphere to the City of the Dead in the snowy mountains.

His eyes seemed to recover as vibrant colours now entered into his view, rich dashes of red, orange and gold. Even when the blurriness was beginning to subside, Ajay's heart felt unsettled by the complete change in environment. A sense of nostalgia washed over him, a frightening one at that.

Because the details of the place he had seemed to land up in did not resemble the mountains or any place he was familiar with personally.

There in the distance, floating cliffs, a forever dawn sky, red soil. He had been here before, just not in person.

-Holy-…..-

This was a place…. remembered by Kalinag.

[Gurggh!] The sound of a Yaksha dying returned him to the overwhelming turn of events. He should not have come here, but here he was. Alone in the home realm of the Yaksha.

And before him were hundreds of those that escaped the clutches of death back in the Reliquary City, unconscious on the floor and yet to stir as he had. The rest, they would conclude were as good as dead.

His eyes landed on a Yaksha that slumped to the ground with a sabre piercing through him from the back. As he fell forward, the silhouette of another familiar face stood behind him pulling the sabre out.

And then, they met eye contact. Both, shocked by the appearance of the other in this place.

Ajay that he was still around and Andhakan that the human had actually come through the rift with them. Behind him, were the corpses of the Yaksha he killed in their unconsciousness. For the sake of his dignity, everyone who witnessed his failure needed to die. And who should he see here of all people but the one who caused his heart to grow weary and doubt himself?

But that look of surprise and fear was unexpectantly turned around into a ravenous grin. For the situation down there was different from here….

In Shangri-la.


The Prince had completely discarded the notion of killing his brethren. Here before him, was the human that ruined everything. Furthermore, he had brought with him Kaalapatthagada all ripe for the taking.

[ahahaahahahahahahahahaahHAHAHAHAHAHA!] The Yaksha Prince let his insane laughter echo out into the vastness of the realm they stood in. There was never a moment so redeeming than this, no.

[This is fate! I thank whichever god decided to carve this twist in our destinies, Human.]

Ajay stood on guard. He was in an unfamiliar place with an unknown number against him, with no visible way home at the moment. And for the Yaksha, he was in home territory. Ajay had never been more alert of his surroundings than he was now, his mind raced to calculate all his future moves and strategies of getting home while he still had the chance.

(BOOM)(rumble)(BOOM)(rumble) Over to where some floating cliffs were, crumbled apart as two comets smashed into the ground nearby.

When the smoke cleared, the Prince's relief great stronger as one of them was the General of the Shangri-lan Armies.

[General. You and your men have failed to live up to my expectations. You will, therefore, be summarily executed along with your bloodlines!] The Prince declared ruthlessly with a grin. The expression of the General was obviously rigid.

[However….] Of course, there was always a price for redemption.

[Can we agree that what happened down below, only the two of us know?] Hearing this, the Yaksha warriors that had stirred fully became white with fright once more, they were home but they were about to die again. Many pleaded for mercy and a second chance but all he did was laugh insatiably, everything was about to go his way in the end.

Then the General made up his mind. [Your will be done!] A General had cast his army aside for his own survival. The other comet who had been contending with him since his unexpected arrival once more felt disgusted with the way the Yaksha of the Himavanas were.

Immediately, the General floated like a celestial and swung his halberd to slaughter his own men, slicing their bodies in half. The Yaksha warriors screamed and ran for dear life, cursing their initial enthusiasm to descend on their Lord's orders. Tarakeshwar didn't stay, he clashed with the General who was preoccupied with silencing his own men. Ajay didn't know why he did that but apparently, he didn't do things for nothing.

[Now I have you all to myself.] That sentence was directed at Ajay this time.

Looking back at the Prince whose every inch of arrogance and confidence had returned, Ajay knew exactly what caused this.

His third eye was already picking a buildup of magical energies, Prana. Towards the prince, gathering the essence of the very earth, rich in lifeforce. Where the Darkstone of the mountains had previously hindered his entire magical potential till his still-developing Natural Law magic. Shangri-la was the prefect place to unleash his maelstrom of magical arts upon the one who humiliated him worst than death.

[Here I come!] He bellowed like a maniac with a grin permanently planted on his face. Kicking off and flying towards him like there was no gravity.

[Tribulation Flames!] He cast several bolts of fireballs ahead of him towards Ajay.

Ajay was careful about his next move after he swiped his mace down to cut the fireball into nothingness thanks to the Darkstone properties. But then, Andhakan unleashed more techniques that no human had seen for as long as the mountains belonged to them.

As he raised his hand to point a Banishing Hex at the Prince in flight, the Yaksha's image distorted or rather produced afterimages as he manoeuvred in the air like he had a jetpack or something. Ajay was still unfamiliar with the laws of this place, but for Andhakan, this was home. Then his images multiplied and stood in a ready stance encircling Ajay with six other mirror images.

"… Illusionary magic…." Ajay didn't need to second guess it.

The six figures came for him all at once. Two fired their flaming magic whilst the four others continued charging.

[Be careful!] A sadistic word of caution came from every one of these images of the Prince.

(Bang) Ajay struck the mace into the ground, causing a tremor and air burst that caused a distortion of the images one after another. They were hard for the human eye to see, but Ajay managed to find the one he was looking for.

(Thang) The mace collided with the sabre of the Yaksha. Yet, unlike before, the Yaksha pushed his advance. (Thang) (Thang) The home ground gave him the confidence to beat Ajay and take what was rightfully his.

But overconfidence was something he still needed to watch out for. As Ajay readily employed the Four Seasons Martial Art style, warding off attacks and performing unbelievable counters that the Yaksha didn't think possible until today. He parried a risky counter before jumping onto a boulder near a stream flowing into a void down below.

[I forgot, here I am a demi-god to all. But you are no weaker than before. Still, to think you would see through all of my illusionary tricks I guess it is to be expected of a Demon Banisher.]

Ajay took this time to absorb his surroundings, plan his next line of attack and what he could use from the surroundings. Here, the Prince had forever, Ajay didn't.

[If it is true that Demon Banishers are immune to our illusionary magic, then it is highly possible you are just as vulnerable to what I have in store for you next.]

Lifted off the ground through unexplainable physics, he channelled the lifeforce of the area and gathered it to him. Raising his hands over his head (Author: "Everyone pls, share your energy with me!") a vortex of swirling energies began to form.

While unnerved if the Yaksha was going to fire a spirit bomb at him or something close to it. He didn't forget he was holding an item that could dispel magic of any kind. If it could break an Astra, he was damn sure this was nothing!

He had no choice but to depend on the Darkstone Mace to make it out of here in one piece. So then he should take this opportunity to fully master it.

And yet, as he thought of these things to keep his optimism up. Ajay couldn't shake the eerie feeling from the moment the energies of the vortex seemed to settle.

[I would never have thought a day when a magic that could only be used here would be of such great use. Be grateful, human!] It seemed that expression of lunacy was forever planted upon the beautiful face, he had himself to thank for that.

The Prince cast the magic by swinging his arms down to the ground but no energy ball came, instead it dispelled confusing Ajay for a while. Did he misinterpret the spell that was used? But the combined energies did not go to waste, as a figure materialized with a shadowy blue outline. An illusionary figure of an object. Gradually, the colour seemed to fill in the places of the outline and that colour was golden. Again, a shape that started resembling something he might have seen before many times in Kyrat yet couldn't put a finger on it.

-That…. bell.-

It's shape… where had he seen it before? Did he actually see it in person? It was at the back of his mind yet wouldn't materialize.

He would have thought more about it, except that his sith senses were going out of control. His heartbeat increased in rhythm and that same eerie feeling only grew into a nauseous one. Something was really wrong, and his instincts were telling him to flee now or there would be no turning back. Correction, it was screaming to him.

Ajay was not oblivious to his better judgement and turned to make for a safer place. Even as he ran, the nauseating feeling only grew stronger and stronger.

Not far enough! Not out of its reach! His instincts were rattled so heavily that he had not felt this endangered since when he first awakened Yalung's blood.

[Behold! The Bell of Enlightenment!... Absolve!] Like the last word was the keycode to activating it the bell raised itself and-

(GOOONNNNGGG)

The deafening sound echoed throughout Shangri-la. Letting every being inhabiting those lush landmasses that someone of noble blood had called judgement upon an invader.

(ding)(plop) First his mace fell out of his hand and struck the stone pavement in front of him. Then his legs gave way and he fell on his knees. "Buueeghh!" Without control, a stream of blood poured out from his mouth, blood that came from his damaged internals. He soon realized that it wasn't just puking of blood but flowing from other areas as well. His ears had a constant ringing to them as it bled.

(GOONNNGGG)

By the second chime, Ajay had his hands clamped around his ears as it was hearing this sound that caused him inexplicable agony unlike any other. His face unbeknownst to him, was wrought in utter pain. yet no sound came from his open mouth. Realising the effectiveness of the illusionary bell upon him, Andhakan relaxed himself.

But little did both of them know, that this pain was not merely felt by Ajay alone. It didn't matter how far these people who shared a very special connection to him were.

In the midst of a counterattack from special forces operatives, Jeevan dropped his rifle behind cover clutching his ears. "STOP ITT!" He shouted out over the deafening sound of combat, making his comrades wonder what became of him.

Vasu collapsed in the heat of battle against US Marines who outmanoeuvred his infantry forces protecting the Armoured Units from anti-tank weapons. "STOP-… THAT RINGINNNG!"

Jason yelled at the top of his lungs. "TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF!"

And Bipin… who lay in a wounded open-eyed vegetative state after failing to stop the General of the South Gate from her onslaught. His mouth could not move, but he was experiencing a pain worse than the stab wound through the spine that should have taken all his feeling. -SHUT IT OFFFFF! For the love of God! SHUT IT, I BEG YOUUU!-

The illusionary bell struck something deep within all of them, a connection they had to Ajay as he, in turn, had with a certain entity.

Seeing his enemy fall into own indignity in utter agonizing pain was a sight more pleasing than anything thus far. The Prince only laughed louder till he could barely even hear himself think more means to torment the Demon Banisher.

(GOOOOOOONNNNGGG)

"EAAAAARRRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" Screaming out as if he experienced the worst of pains, worse than a rhino horn impaling his heart but multiplied over and over repeatedly. The only thing rivalling it in loudness was Andhakan's cacophony of delight and madness.

What happened to the others who were affected by the Bell of Enlightenment was equally excruciating to the point of fainting.

In the distance, where Tarakeshwar battled with the Yaksha General. They heard the chime and knew what it was. But unlike the Yaksha, Tarakeshwar's face was utterly pale. He had the Yaksha General in the corner, yet he abandoned the opportunity to return to where Ajay and the Prince were with absolute haste.

When he arrived, it was by the third chime and not a moment too late from what was about to happen that no one, not even the ignorant fool who cast the Bell of Enlightenment spell upon Ajay could imagine the monstrosity it was about to unleash.

[Prince of Shangri-la! I demand that you stop at once! I implore you to release that spell! Or you will doom not just yourself but everything here!]

[Who are you to demand from me, Rakshasa?!] The Yaksha general had just arrived and found Tarakeshwar and his liege in this strange conversation.

[No. You don't understand!-… If you finish that spell, you will release something which you nor anyone here will have hopes against!] While listening to a Rakshasa plead to him, and a General no less. The fact that he wore such a face of concern did make him feel some truth to it.

Even after the chime subsided, the human Demon Banisher was still wriggling on the floor in pain.

Yes! That was right, it didn't matter what happened. So long as he could repay all his pain and suffering back to the foolish human, then his heart would be at ease. As for the warning which the Rakshasa gave. Who did he think would frighten them in their own home ground? If anything was beyond his or his Royal Brothers' control, there was always his father.

[Worth it!] Cackled the Yaksha Prince who had it all.

And so, Tarakeshwar soon realized his words were in vain, his face held a look of despair worse than any before. A face that made even the Yaksha General feel unnerved. As the lips of the fool curled upwards and shouted the command for the Bell of Enlightenment to enact its fourth and final chime. the whole world bowed in reverence to the Bell by dedicating their silence.

(GOOOOOOOONNNNNNGGGGG) Echoing out to the whole of Shangri-la that the Bell of Enlightenment had finished its last chime.

And there was just quiet. But only….

Too quiet.

Andhakan should have detected it sooner, but instead of the louder screams of agony he was promised from each bell chime, there was a daunting silence.

And then-…

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...

...

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[EEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!]

The nightmare of the Himavanas returned.