Chapter 156: Chapter 154: Not An Auspicious Day!.. I Will Return To Challenge...

(A/N):

Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.

Guys I hope you put more comments and power stones... Which will encourage me...

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Devara continued with his explanation as the sage seems to not accept it.

"’The poor spend me daily. The rich often lose me.’"

"A poor man survives through trust."

"Trust from neighbors."

"Trust from friends."

"Trust from family."

"The wealthy often become so focused on wealth that they lose the trust of those around them."

The villagers exchanged looks.

Several quietly agreed.

Then came the next part.

"’I am stronger than armies, yet weaker than suspicion.’"

Devara smiled looking at the realized expression.

"A kingdom united by trust can withstand armies."

"But a single seed of suspicion can destroy years of trust."

Sage Veenadhara’s face slowly changed.

The confidence disappeared.

In its place came understanding.

The answer wasn’t merely correct.

It fit every layer. Every meaning. Every verse.

Devara wasn’t finished.

"’I can build a kingdom without touching a stone.’"

"Trust builds kingdoms."

"Without trust there is no trade."

"No friendship."

"No loyalty."

"No family."

"No kingdom."

The villagers now stared at Devara with wide eyes.

Several had completely forgotten he was supposedly a merchant.

His words carried the weight of experience.

The weight of someone who understood people deeply.

Then came the final lines.

"’The wise nurture me.’"

"The wise know trust must be earned."

"’The foolish demand me.’"

"The foolish expect trust without deserving it."

Devara’s eyes briefly met Veenadhara’s.

"’The honest earn me.’"

"’The arrogant expect me.’"

Those words landed heavily.

Very heavily.

The sage felt them.

Not because they were part of the answer.

Because they felt directed at him.

Though Devara’s tone remained completely calm.

Finally Devara finished.

"’I have no weight, yet the world rests upon me.’"

He spread his hands.

"Without trust."

"There are no families."

"No friendships."

"No teachers."

"No students."

"No rulers."

"No kingdoms."

"No society."

The village became completely silent.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Nobody could find a flaw. Not one.

Every line matched. Every verse fit. Every layer connected perfectly.

Sage Veenadhara sat motionless.

The answer replayed inside his mind.

Again. And again. And again.

Each time revealing something new.

A deeper meaning. A hidden connection. A layer he had missed.

Slowly he lowered his head.

Not in defeat. In realization.

For years he had asked questions.

For years he had challenged others.

For years he had judged people by whether they could answer him.

Yet today...

A wandering merchant had presented a riddle greater than any he had ever created.

And worse.

The answer itself was something he had neglected.

Trust.

The very thing he had spent years destroying among the villagers through his arrogance.

For the first time that evening...

The great Sage Veenadhara Kashyap found himself speechless.

And for the first time in many years...

He wasn’t thinking about how intelligent he was.

He was wondering who exactly was sitting opposite him beneath that banyan tree.

The challenge continued long after sunset.

The villagers had forgotten about dinner.

Children who were supposed to be asleep remained hidden behind their parents.

Even the elders of Mallikavana refused to leave.

Oil lamps were brought.

Torches were lit.

The banyan tree became the center of the entire village.

And beneath it sat two men.

One was Sage Veenadhara Kashyap.

The other was supposedly a pottery merchant.

At least that was what everyone believed.

Question after question followed.

Sage Veenadhara’s confidence had recovered after the initial shock.

He was, after all, a genuine master of riddles and poetry.

Surely nobody could answer everything.

Surely.

So he attacked from different directions.

Some questions involved philosophy.

Others involved human nature.

Some were wrapped in poetry.

Others hid multiple meanings within a single verse.

One riddle contained seven layers of interpretation.

Another required understanding of ancient scriptures.

A third combined music, mathematics, and language into a single puzzle.

The villagers understood almost none of it.

Yet every single time... Devara answered.

Sometimes immediately. Sometimes after a few moments.

Sometimes by explaining three possible answers before revealing the most complete one.

The sage became increasingly restless.

"...."

Each answer felt like a stone landing on his pride.

But the truly terrifying part wasn’t Devara answering.

It was what happened afterward.

Because every correct answer gave Devara the right to ask one of his own.

And every time he did...

Sage Veenadhara found himself trapped.

One question asked:

"What grows stronger when carried by two, but dies when carried by one?"

The answer had been responsibility shared through trust.

Another asked:

"What teaches without speaking, punishes without striking, and follows every man from birth until death?"

The answer had been consequences.

Then came questions that left even the villagers thinking.

Questions about leadership.

Questions about wisdom.

Questions about humility.

Questions that sounded simple but revealed deeper meanings the longer one thought about them.

With every round, Veenadhara found himself struggling more.

Not because the questions were impossible.

Because they were layered.

The answer he gave often explained one layer.

Sometimes two. Sometimes three.

Yet Devara would calmly point out the fourth.

Or the fifth.

Or the hidden meaning buried beneath all the others.

For perhaps the first time in years, Veenadhara experienced what his challengers had felt.

The frustration of standing before someone who always seemed to see one step further.

Hours passed....

The moon climbed higher.

The villagers remained gathered.

Nobody wanted to miss what happened next.

Then came the final exchange.

Veenadhara asked another question.

A difficult one.

A question that had defeated several court scholars in the past.

Devara answered once again.

Perfectly.

Then came Devara’s question.

The sage listened to it seriously.

Thought. And Answered.

And once again...

The merchant calmly explained why the answer was incomplete.

That was it. The final blow.

Sage Veenadhara sat frozen.

His mind exhausted. His pride bruised.

"...."

His confidence shaken.

For the first time in many years... He could not see a path to victory.

The realization terrified him.

Suddenly he stood up.

So abruptly that several villagers jumped.

His robes swirled dramatically around him.

His veena nearly slipped from his shoulder.

Everyone watched.

Waiting.

Would he admit defeat?

Would he acknowledge the merchant’s superiority?

Instead...

Sage Veenadhara pointed dramatically at Devara.

"The challenge is not over!"

His voice echoed across the village.

The villagers blinked.

The sage continued quickly.

"Today..."

He paused.

Searching desperately for something.

Anything.

"Today was not an auspicious day!"

The villagers stared at him with dead eyes.

Even Devara raised an eyebrow hearing the sage’s words.

"...."

The sage nodded vigorously.

"Yes!"

"That is the reason!"

"The stars were unfavorable!"

"The winds were strange!"

"The omens were poor!"

The villagers exchanged looks.

"...."

"...."

"...."

One old farmer whispered,

"He was winning until afternoon according to those same stars."

His wife elbowed him.

Sage Veenadhara continued speaking.

"The challenge shall continue another day!"

He pointed toward himself proudly.

"You have not yet witnessed the full brilliance of Sage Veenadhara Kashyap!"

The villagers were struggling.

Some were trying very hard not to laugh.

The sage pointed dramatically at the sky.

"Soon!"

"You shall learn who I truly am!"

"You shall witness my knowledge!"

"You shall witness my talent!"

"You shall witness my greatness!"

Then before anyone could respond... He turned around.

And began walking away.

Very quickly.

Far quicker than a man who had supposedly not lost.

His robes fluttered behind him.

His veena bounced against his back.

And with every step he seemed to move faster.

Until he almost resembled a retreating storm cloud.

The villagers watched in stunned silence.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Then one child spoke.

"L-Looks like he ran away."

That was enough.

The entire village erupted.

Laughter echoed everywhere.

Years of frustration burst free all at once.

Men laughed. Women laughed. Even the elders laughed.

For months they had suffered beneath the sage’s challenges.

For months they had hidden inside their homes.

For months they had endured endless boasting.

And now...

They had just witnessed Sage Veenadhara retreat.

The villagers finally emerged from their homes.

One by one. Then in groups.

Soon dozens of people surrounded Devara and Shakuni.

Everyone wanted to speak at once.

An old farmer folded his hands.

"Merchant sir, you have no idea what you’ve done for us."

A grandmother immediately joined in.

"For months!"

"For months that man has been tormenting us!"

Another villager nodded.

-Nod!

"He challenges everyone!"

"If we lose, he humiliates us."

"If we refuse, he insults us."

A young man pointed in the direction Sage Veenadhara had disappeared.

"He once followed me for half a day because I accidentally looked at him."

The crowd groaned.

Another woman spoke.

"He made my husband listen to three hours of poetry because he answered one question incorrectly."

The husband nodded miserably.

"It was actually four hours."

The villagers laughed.

Devara listened quietly.

The stories continued.

One after another.

Each revealing how exhausting the sage had become.

Not evil. Not cruel.

Just unbearable.

Eventually an elderly village headman stepped forward.

His eyes were filled with gratitude.

He folded his hands deeply.

"For the first time since he arrived..."

The old man smiled.

"We feel hopeful."

The villagers nodded.

Many of them looked toward Devara with admiration.

Not because he had won.

But because he had done something nobody else could.

He had stood his ground.

He had challenged the challenger.

And for the first time...

Sage Veenadhara Kashyap had been the one running away.

Meanwhile, sitting beside the cart, Shakuni watched the celebration.

Then quietly leaned toward Devara.

A grin hidden beneath his giant moustache.

"You realize..."

He pointed toward the road where the sage had vanished.

"...he’s absolutely coming back tomorrow."

Devara laughed hearing his brother in law’s reaction.

"Without question."

Shakuni nodded with a sigh.

-Sigh!

"Obsessed already."

The king smiled.

Because he knew it too.

This challenge wasn’t over.

Not even close.

In fact...

For the first time in a very long while, Sage Veenadhara Kashyap had found something more interesting than himself.

And that alone guaranteed he would return.

By the time the excitement in Mallikavana began settling down, the night had fully arrived.

The flower fields surrounding the village shimmered beneath the moonlight.

A cool breeze carried the scent of jasmine through the air.

The villagers were still discussing what had happened beneath the banyan tree.

Every street corner had become a gathering place.

Every house seemed to have its own version of the story.

And with each retelling, Sage Veenadhara somehow became a little more dramatic and Devara a little more mysterious.

Meanwhile, the elderly grandmother who had spoken earlier refused to let the two merchants spend the night sleeping beside their cart.

"Nonsense."

She waved her walking stick firmly.

"You defeated that troublesome sage today."

"We’re not letting guests sleep outside."

Before either Devara or Shakuni could protest, the old woman had already decided.

Which, as the villagers quietly informed them, meant the matter was settled.

So the two followed her through the narrow village paths.

Her house stood near the edge of the village.

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(Author note:)

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Don’t forget to review guys...

Guys I have a new fic which named: Karuppan: King of Openings.