Chapter 181: Chapter 179: Are Their Instinct’s Strong... Or... I Have A Scary Face...

(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 had already seen enough.

The moment he saw the strange skull placed at the center of the ritual circle and the crimson glow spreading through the symbols carved into the ground, he knew these men were connected to something dangerous.

There was no point hiding any longer and listening from the shadows.

Taking a step forward, he emerged from behind the tree.

The three men who were arranging the ritual suddenly felt a shadow fall over them.

"...."

"...."

"...."

At first they thought it was a cloud passing overhead, but when they looked up, all three froze.

A tall figure stood before them.

The setting sun was directly behind him, making it difficult to see his face clearly for a moment.

The sunlight created a golden outline around his body while the evening breeze moved through his hair.

His green eyes seemed unnaturally sharp as they looked down at them.

"...."

For a few seconds nobody spoke.

Even the sounds of the forest seemed distant.

The three men could not explain why, but the moment they saw him, a strange pressure settled on their hearts.

It was not something they could see.

Nor something they could touch.

Yet every instinct inside them was screaming that the man standing before them was dangerous.

Very dangerous.

Devara’s gaze shifted from the ritual circle to the skull and then toward the three men.

His expression remained calm.

Too calm.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"What are you doing here?"

His voice wasn’t loud.

It wasn’t threatening.

Yet the question itself made the three men tense.

Of course, Devara already had a good idea of what they were doing.

But he wanted confirmation.

Sometimes people revealed far more than they intended when they believed they still had a chance.

Unfortunately, these men were not interested in talking.

The larger man immediately exchanged a glance with the others.

No words were needed.

They had already reached the same conclusion.

The stranger had discovered them.

Which meant he had to die.

The man on the left instantly drew his sword.

The second followed.

The larger man reached behind his back and pulled out a massive axe.

The steel reflected the fading sunlight.

Devara watched them without reacting.

"...."

His expression did not change.

If anything, he looked disappointed.

The three attackers felt even more uneasy seeing that reaction.

Most people would panic.

Most people would step back.

Most people would try to run.

But this man...

He simply stood there.

As though three armed men charging him was nothing worth worrying about.

The larger man felt a chill crawl down his spine.

Something about this situation felt wrong.

Very wrong.

Yet there was no turning back now.

"Kill him!"

The order came out almost like a growl.

All three moved immediately.

Years of experience showed in their coordination.

The axe wielder attacked from the front.

The two swordsmen split apart and moved from both sides.

They had done this before.

Corner the target.

Force him to defend one direction.

Kill him from another.

Simple.

Effective.

Deadly.

The distance between them disappeared rapidly.

Leaves and flower petals scattered beneath their feet.

The swords came down.

The axe followed.

Three powerful attacks aimed to kill.

Yet Devara remained where he was.

He didn’t dodge.

He didn’t raise his hands.

He didn’t even shift his feet.

The sight unsettled all three men.

For a split second, doubt flashed across their minds.

’Why wasn’t he moving?’

Then their weapons reached him.

And everything changed.

A brilliant golden light exploded from Devara’s body.

The forest clearing lit up.

Ancient patterns briefly appeared within the golden glow.

The attacker’s eyes widened in horror.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Before they could even comprehend what was happening, a magnificent golden armor materialized around Devara.

The Parvathi Kavach.

Divine armor blessed by the Goddess herself.

The swords struck first.

CLANG!

The sound echoed through the clearing.

The axe followed a heartbeat later.

BOOM!

The impact sent vibrations through the ground.

Birds burst from nearby trees and flew into the sky.

The three attackers expected resistance.

They expected a struggle.

Instead, it felt as though they had struck a mountain.

The force rebounded into their arms.

Pain shot through their hands and shoulders.

The weapons trembled violently.

The swordsmen almost lost their grip entirely.

The axe wielder stumbled backward.

All three immediately jumped away, creating distance between themselves and Devara.

Their hearts pounded.

Their breathing became uneven.

Slowly, they looked at their weapons.

The sight nearly stopped their hearts.

The edges of both swords had chipped.

Cracks had appeared along parts of the metal.

Even the axe had suffered visible damage.

The weapons that had been carefully maintained for years looked as though they had been smashed against solid rock.

Meanwhile, Devara remained standing exactly where he had been before.

Not a single step had been pushed back.

Not a scratch appeared on the golden armor.

Not even a mark.

The golden glow reflected in his green eyes as he looked at the three men.

For the first time since they began this mission, genuine fear appeared on their faces.

The larger man swallowed hard.

His mouth suddenly felt dry.

The confidence he had moments ago was disappearing rapidly.

Who was this person?

No.

The question changed.

What was this person?

Because the thing standing before them no longer felt like an ordinary human.

The pressure they had sensed earlier only grew stronger.

The forest itself seemed quieter.

The wind slowed.

Even the ritual circle behind them seemed insignificant compared to the man standing before them.

Devara finally took a step forward.

Just one.

Yet all three men instinctively stepped back.

The movement was so natural they didn’t even realize they had done it.

The realization only made their fear worse.

These were men who served dangerous masters.

Men who performed dark rituals.

Men who killed without hesitation.

Yet they were retreating before a single man.

Devara’s eyes briefly moved toward the ritual circle.

The strange skull.

The crimson symbols.

Then back to the three men.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

Not the smile of someone enjoying himself.

Nor the smile of someone mocking his enemies.

It was the smile of a man who had finally confirmed what he needed to know.

Looking directly at them, he spoke.

His voice remained calm.

Far too calm for the situation.

"So..."

He glanced once more at the ritual behind them.

Then back at their frightened faces.

"I suppose we are done pretending now."

The three men felt their hearts sink.

Because somehow, hearing those simple words frightened them far more than the golden armor ever had.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Devara looked at the three men before him and, for a brief moment, genuinely didn’t know how to react.

All three were trembling.

Not the nervousness of men about to fight.

Not even the fear of men facing a stronger opponent.

This was the fear of men who felt they had already lost.

The kind of fear people carried when trapped inside a nightmare they could not wake up from.

For a second, Devara almost felt speechless.

"...."

’Are their instincts really this sharp? Or... Do I actually look that terrifying?’

The thought crossed his mind briefly.

Unfortunately for them, the three men had no intention of surrendering.

Fear or not, they knew one thing.

If they failed their mission, the punishment awaiting them from their masters would be worse than death.

So they tightened their grips on their weapons.

Devara noticed immediately.

A sigh escaped his lips.

"So that’s your answer."

The king slowly raised his hand.

Then spoke in a calm voice.

"Amba Tejas."

A brilliant crimson flash exploded around him.

The forest lit up with red light.

Ancient energy rippled through the clearing.

The very air seemed to tremble.

Two divine swords materialized in Devara’s hands.

Their blades glowed with a fiery crimson radiance.

The metal looked alive.

Heat waves distorted the air around them.

The moment the swords appeared, the fear inside the three attackers multiplied.

Every instinct screamed danger.

Run.

Hide.

Escape.

Yet they forced themselves forward.

Because they knew they only had one chance.

If they allowed this terrifying opponent to attack first...

They would die.

The larger warrior roared and charged.

The remaining two immediately split apart.

One moved to the left.

The other to the right.

A coordinated attack.

This time they ignored Devara’s body entirely.

The divine armor covering him had already proven impossible to penetrate.

So they aimed elsewhere.

His neck.

His face.

His head.

The only exposed areas.

Three attacks.

Three directions.

Perfect timing.

A strategy designed to overwhelm even experienced warriors.

The swordsmen closed in.

The axe wielder approached from behind.

For an ordinary fighter, blocking all three attacks would have been impossible.

But Devara wasn’t ordinary.

His green eyes calmly tracked each movement.

Every step.

Every shift in balance.

Every tightening muscle.

To him, their attacks looked painfully slow.

The moment they entered striking distance...

Devara moved. His foot struck the ground.

BOOM!

Dust exploded upward.

The clearing vanished beneath a cloud of dirt and flower petals.

The attackers instinctively shut their eyes.

Only for a split second.

But that was enough.

The larger warrior swung his axe through empty air.

The swordsmen struck nothing.

Their targets had vanished.

The dust settled slightly.

The man on the left opened his eyes.

And immediately regretted it.

A boot appeared directly in front of his face.

There was no warning.

No chance to react.

CRACK!

The kick connected.

The force shattered several teeth instantly.

The warrior’s entire body lifted off the ground.

Blood sprayed through the air.

He flew several meters before crashing through a cluster of flowering bushes.

Meanwhile, Devara landed smoothly.

Not even looking at the man he had just sent flying.

His attention remained on the remaining two.

The swords of Amba Tejas moved.

Two crimson arcs flashed through the clearing.

Fast.

Precise.

Merciless.

SLASH! SLASH!

Screams erupted.

Both attackers stared in horror.

"-Ahhhh!!!"

"-Ahhhh!!!"

For a second, they couldn’t comprehend what had happened.

Then they looked down.

Their weapon hands were gone.

Cleanly severed.

The swords and the hands holding them fell together.

Blood splattered across the ritual circle.

The two men collapsed to their knees.

Their screams echoed through the forest.

The remaining warrior struggled to stand.

Blood dripped from his mouth.

His vision blurred.

Yet when he saw his companions...

Saw their missing hands...

Saw the crimson swords glowing in Devara’s grasp...

Every remaining bit of courage inside him shattered.

He turned and ran. Or at least tried to.

His legs stumbled. His body shook.

He practically crawled across the ground.

Desperately trying to escape.

Desperately trying to survive.

"Get away..."

The thought consumed him.

"Get away from that monster."

Unfortunately...

Amba Tejas had other ideas.

The divine sword had already developed a personality after spending so much time with its wielder.

And right now...

It was annoyed.

The enemy was running away before the fight had properly ended.

The crimson blade almost seemed to vibrate in irritation.

"Fool trying to runaway...."

Before Devara could even react—One of the twin swords shot from his hand.

-WHOOSH!

The fleeing man heard something.

Then pain exploded through his body.

"-AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

The sword pierced straight through the back of his thigh.

The force pinned him to the ground.

The man collapsed face-first into the dirt.

"...."

His fingers clawed desperately at the earth.

Trying to escape. Trying to move.

Trying to do anything.

But he couldn’t.

The crimson blade had nailed him in place.

Then things became worse.

Much worse.

The divine sword began glowing brighter.

Heat spread through the metal.

At first it felt warm.

Then hot.

Then unbearable.

Black smoke rose from the wound.

The smell of burning flesh filled the clearing.

The man screamed.

A horrifying scream.

"-Ahhhhhh!!!"

The flesh around the wound darkened.

The heat reached his muscles.

He could literally feel himself being cooked alive.

His body convulsed violently.

The two wounded men watched in horror.

Even their own pain seemed insignificant compared to what they were witnessing.

Meanwhile, Devara simply stood there.

The golden Parvathi Kavach gleamed around him.

The remaining crimson sword rested calmly in his hand.

The ritual circle behind the attackers was stained with blood.

The strange skull remained at its center.

And for the first time since the battle began...

The three men finally understood.

"...."

"...."

"...."

The greatest danger in this forest was never the ritual failing.

It was the man standing before them.

A man who had defeated them so completely that the fight had barely lasted longer than a few breaths.

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(Author note:)

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