As they stepped past the jagged mouth of the Kalambhaar Cave, a sudden gust of cold, pressure-laced air burst through the narrow tunnel like a blast of wind laced with curses. The dark mist grew thicker, swirling around their feet and rising to their waists like a living fog.
The Prana surged, not in waves, but like a rising tide—dense, sharp, twisted.
All four of the female Rakshaks staggered for a second, each instinctively drawing on their inner strength to remain composed.
But Armaan stood still.
His eyes narrowed. His senses sharpened.
He slowly raised a hand, palm out, as if trying to feel each strand of Prana directly.
"...This isn't one presence," he muttered.
Everyone turned to look at him.
He closed his eyes, taking a slow breath in. Then opened them, serious now.
"There's not just one presence in this cave... There are many."
A chill ran through Reet and Tara's spines.
"H-How many?" Manvi asked, gripping the hilt of her blade.
Armaan didn't answer immediately. He took a few steps deeper into the tunnel, letting the Prana brush against him like waves on skin.
"…Too many to count. And they're not normal either. These things... they're not just strong. They're hungry."
Advika's expression hardened.
"This explains why the others who came here didn't return in one piece."
Armaan's eyes gleamed faintly as his own Prana surged subtly in defense, a silver aura wrapping briefly around his arms.
"Stay close. Don't act unless I say. We're not alone, and something's watching us already."
From deeper within the cave, a low, faint growl echoed in the shadows.
And so, with blades drawn and nerves on edge, the Kalambhaar team moved deeper into the mouth of darkness—where ancient predators waited, cloaked in Prana and thirsting for blood.
As they ventured deeper into the chilling abyss of Kalambhaar Cave, the faint echo of hissing footsteps grew louder—until, from the shadows, a group of Danawas lunged forward, surrounding them in a twisted circle.
These Danawas weren't too powerful, but their twisted, veiny bodies and yellow fangs made them no less threatening. Their eyes glowed crimson with bloodlust, and they moved in sync, snarling and clawing at the air.
Armaan instinctively reached for the hilt of his Aether blade, his stance sharpening like a blade ready to unsheath.
But just before he could act—
"No," Advika raised her hand firmly, stepping in front of him.
"Let the others handle this. Save your stamina, Armaan. What lies ahead will require every drop of your strength."
Armaan looked at her, hesitant but trusting. He loosened his grip.
That's when Reet, Tara, and Manvi stepped forward with a smirk on their faces.
"Just wait and watch, handsome boy," Reet teased with a wink.
"Don't call me that," Armaan said, clearly annoyed, his brow twitching.
The three chuckled in unison.
Suddenly, the air shifted.
Each of them drew their swords with a smooth, practiced motion.
Reet's blade shimmered with a crimson-red hue, jagged like lightning, almost humming with chaotic energy.
Tara's sword was sleek and slender, glowing with an emerald green tint, and emitted a low hum that echoed with grace.
Manvi's weapon had a sky-blue curved edge, almost like a wave frozen mid-splash—fluid and fast.
In the blink of an eye, they moved—
Reet's strikes cracked like thunder through the stone, Tara danced through shadows, and Manvi flowed like water, slicing down Danawas with surgical precision.
It was over in less than four minutes.
The cave floor was littered with fallen Danawas, vanishing into cursed smoke as their bodies disintegrated.
Advika nodded in approval.
Armaan whistled lightly.
"…Not bad," he muttered under his breath.
The three turned to him again, smiling.
"Told you, handsome."
"Call me that again, and I'm walking back home," he grumbled.
But deep down, he was impressed.
This wasn't just a random team.
These girls were elite.
Just as the dust settled and the last remnants of the Danawas evaporated into dark mist, Armaan narrowed his eyes at the surrounding cave walls. He took a step forward, examining the cursed symbols etched faintly into the stone.
Something wasn't right.
He spoke, his voice low and serious, cutting through the moment of relief:
"If there are Danawas here… that means whatever this 'Daitya' is… it can control them."
He turned to Advika and the others, eyes intense.
"And if it can control Danawas… there's a high chance it can control Shaitaans too."
The weight of his words dropped like thunder.
Advika blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Even she hadn't considered that angle.
The three girls—Reet, Tara, and Manvi—looked at each other with wide eyes.
"Whoa…" Reet muttered.
"Not only is he hot and handsome…" Tara whispered with a grin.
"…but also smart," Manvi completed, clearly impressed.
Armaan gave them a dry glare.
"Focus."
But he couldn't hide the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.
Advika crossed her arms and smiled to herself.
"Looks like bringing you along was the right choice after all, Armaan."
They pushed forward, the cave growing darker and the prana heavier, but the fire in their eyes burned even brighter now—with both caution… and a growing respect for the boy who might just be their sharpest weapon.
As they ventured deeper into the Kalambhaar Cave, the flickering glow of their spiritual energy cast long shadows on the jagged walls. The oppressive prana thickened with every step, humming like a warning.
Suddenly, the air shifted—hotter, heavier, hostile.
A gust of dark wind blew past them, and from the shadows emerged twisted figures—tall, fanged beings with glowing eyes and crackling auras of dark violet and green.
"Shaitaans…" Advika muttered, drawing her blade.
But these weren't ordinary.
They carried staffs, swords pulsing with cursed magic, and sigils floated around their bodies like orbiting spells. Their very presence screamed danger.
Armaan's eyes narrowed.
"My doubt was right…" he said, voice low.
"If they're here—and this strong—it means the Daitya is capable of controlling not just Danawas, but full-fledged Shaitaans who can wield magic."
One of the Shaitaans laughed in a deep, inhuman tone.
"So, the little human figured it out… impressive. That'll make your deaths so much more entertaining."
Everyone turned to Armaan as he stepped forward, eyes focused, aura beginning to shimmer.
"They all are as strong as the Shaitaan I faced in my first mission..." he said in a calm, serious tone.
The cave went silent for a second.
Reet's eyes widened.
"Wait, all of them?"
Tara gulped, gripping her blade tighter.
"You serious right now?"
Manvi looked at Advika with unease.
"Then… this isn't just a warm-up. This is a war zone."
Advika's face darkened with concern. She raised her hand, about to issue a command:
"Girls, stay sharp—take them d—"
But before she could finish, Armaan stepped in front of them, his silver aura flashing around him like a divine shield.
"Advika," he said, glancing at her with a half-smile, "let me take these up."
She paused, eyes narrowing.
"Why?"
Armaan's eyes locked on the Shaitaans, their grotesque figures snarling and muttering dark incantations.
"Whenever I see these creepy things…" he muttered, tightening his grip on his Aether blade,
"…I just can't stand still."
His voice was calm, but beneath it surged a storm of vengeance and purpose.
"I don't care how many there are. I'm not letting these monsters walk past me."
The girls looked at each other in surprise, not expecting this shift. Advika smirked softly, lowering her hand.
"Fine. Don't die, hero."
The Shaitaans hissed and surged forward like a dark tide.
Armaan cracked his neck, slashed his blade once in the air—and stepped into battle with blazing speed.
As Armaan stepped forward, the cavern darkened slightly with the malice radiating from the Shaitaans. One of them, its face twisted with a cruel grin, growled in a guttural voice:
"Heh… we're going to have an egoistic meal tonight."
Armaan didn't flinch. He didn't even look.
He closed his eyes.
And in the next moment, a shadow-black aura exploded from his body—roaring upward to the ceiling of the cave, cracking the stone slightly. The ground trembled under the pressure of his spiritual dominance.
Then—clink—he drew his blade.
The dark aura wrapped around it like a stormcloud of rage and power. Slowly, he opened his eyes.
They shimmered like liquid silver.
His voice echoed coldly:
"I will take all of them… in one slash."
His stance changed. His tone was no longer calm—it was absolute. The aura around him screamed that he meant every single word.
The Shaitaans, shrieking in fury and glee, leapt from all directions. They surrounded him, mid-air, ready to sink their claws into flesh.
But then—he was gone.
"What—!?"
He reappeared just in front of the girls.
They gasped in unison, blinking in disbelief.
"Ryū no Keishō…" Armaan whispered, planting his feet as he held his blade with both hands to his right side.
"Phoenix Fury."
He slashed in a wide circular formation.
Suddenly, a vortex of blazing orange fire wrapped around his blade, dancing like the wings of a phoenix. Then he vanished again in a blur.
Slash.
Slash.
Slash.
The air was torn apart by flaming arcs as Armaan moved like a reaper of fire through the Shaitaans—every strike surgical, fluid, devastating.
Flames trailed behind each swing, slicing through limbs and torsos, heads flying in every direction—before the bodies could even collapse, the heat scorched them into smoke.
And then—whoosh—Armaan stood still.
A little ahead of the girls.
His back to them.
Not a single scratch on him.
From behind, they watched in awe, hearts pounding.
"The Dragon of Flames…" Armaan murmured.
From the burning path his blade had carved, a Chinese dragon—red and green, long and sinuous—rose from the trail, coiling in the air like a cobra preparing to strike.
It opened its maw.
And with a roar that shook the cavern—
FOOOOOSH!
A massive burst of hellfire engulfed the battlefield, turning the Shaitaans into nothing but ashes.
Silence followed.
The cave rumbled slightly. The black aura faded.
As the ashes of the Shaitaans crumbled to the ground and silence reclaimed the cave, Armaan turned around slowly—his silver eyes still glowing faintly, his aura fading like smoke. He looked at the stunned faces of the girls… and smiled.
A soft, almost innocent smile.
That was the final blow.
All four of them froze.
Reet's jaw dropped.
Tara blinked rapidly like she just saw her celebrity crush in real life.
Manvi's face turned red as a tomato.
But it was Advika who stood there—hand on her chest, feeling her heartbeat thudding faster than it should.
It wasn't just the fight.
Not just the clean, powerful technique or the monstrous aura.
It was that damn smile.
"You've… really grown stronger," she finally managed to say, her voice quieter than usual—almost breathless. "Stronger than when I last met you…"
Her eyes betrayed the blush creeping onto her cheeks as she added under her breath, "And a whole lot cuter too…"
Armaan raised an eyebrow, a smug smirk touching his lips. "Huh?"
Advika instantly looked away, flustered, waving it off. "N-nothing! Let's keep moving!"
Behind her, Reet whispered to Tara and Manvi, "Yup… she's done for."
Tara snickered. "He got her bad."
Manvi giggled, whispering, "He didn't even try."
And with that, the group continued deeper into the cave—but not without stolen glances and fluttering hearts behind their cool expressions.