Night draped the sky in a cloak of black silk as Ashvath, Sita, and a small team of loyal scouts crossed the northern river. The land here was strange—trees bent unnaturally, the air thick with rot and memory.
They moved in silence, guided only by the stars and the knowledge that the serpent cult had made this place their den.
---
The Fallen Temple
Half-buried in vines and moss stood the ruins of an ancient temple—once sacred, now desecrated. Symbols of forgotten gods had been carved over with the serpent insignia, and a pale fire flickered within.
Sita crouched near a broken column. "This place was a monastery once... long before Ashoka's reign."
Ashvath narrowed his eyes. "Now it's a nest."
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Shadows Among the Stones
Inside the ruin, their boots barely made a sound against the cracked floor. Ashvath raised a fist—halt.
Whispers echoed from a chamber ahead. They moved closer, eyes fixed.
A dozen cultists stood in a circle, murmuring chants in a language older than the hills. In the center knelt a boy, blindfolded, trembling.
Ashvath's breath caught. "A sacrifice."
Sita's voice was steel. "We move. Now."
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Steel Meets Ritual
They burst into the room like a thunderclap. Blades sang, arrows flew. Chaos erupted.
Ashvath moved like lightning, striking down cultists one by one. Sita freed the boy, dragging him behind the columns as flames from the altar roared higher.
One cultist fled, screaming, "He must be told! The Black Mask must know!"
But Ashvath was faster. He hurled his blade—silent and precise. The man collapsed.
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What the Boy Saw
Back at camp, the rescued child, no older than ten, sat beside a fire, wrapped in a woolen cloak.
"I didn't want to go," he whispered. "But they said my blood would wake someone… someone beneath the stones."
Sita exchanged a glance with Ashvath.
"Who?" she asked gently.
"They called him… the Serpent That Sleeps. A man who never dies."
Ashvath's expression darkened.
"This isn't just rebellion anymore," he said.
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End of Chapter 29