Chapter 142 Dharma's Labyrinth
Vishnu's smile froze abruptly.
Asura... as King of Svarga?
He narrowed his gaze, his expression hardening as he peered across the boundless ocean of milk, his eyes fixed toward the southern reaches of Jambudvipa. He was watching closely, wary of the calamities yet to come.
At that very moment, Indra had just finished his speech.
Rishi Kashyapa, observing the scene, couldn't help but reveal a rare mix of surprise and delight. Clasping his hands within his sleeves, he murmured softly, "Brothers respecting each other... how rare and wonderful."
But then his gaze drifted toward Lord Vishnu.
Would Lord Vishnu be willing to accept this outcome?
The devas, too, looked shaken. Agni, the god of fire, and others exchanged uneasy glances.
Indra had clearly won. Why, then, should he be so forgiving?
Only moments ago, they had been thoroughly humiliated by Vajranga. To think that same Asura still lingered in Svarga... it was intolerable. Even if Vajranga bore the title of Rishi, his place was the depths of Patala, not the halls of Svarga!
Panic began to spread among the devas. Their desperate eyes turned toward Brihaspati, the divine guru, silently begging for a solution.
But Rishi Brihaspati's face had gone pale.
Am I, the revered teacher of the devas, supposed to assist an Asura in becoming the King of Svarga?
Absolutely not! Impossible!
"Indra!" Brihaspati declared suddenly, his voice echoing through the halls of heaven. "Best among the Adityas, the one who knows both Svarga and Patala and bestows grace upon all beings!"
"Only those who stand victorious and righteous may rightfully claim this vast Svarga and bask in its endless blessings. Such is the law of Dharma that governs both Devas and Asuras!"
"To defy Dharma is to invite ruin!"
His words, crisp and firm, immediately ignited a spark among the devas. Their eyes brightened. This... this was the wisdom they sought from their teacher!
Rishi Brihaspati truly lived up to his name.
Vishnu, from the depths of the Kshira Sagara, shook his head with a wry smile. As expected, Rishi Brihaspati remains dependable.
Indra, hearing the words, narrowed his eyes. Coughing twice for effect, he regarded Brihaspati with a sly grin.
When it came to Dharma, he suddenly felt wide awake.
He might not be an expert in upholding Dharma, but he was well-versed in twisting it to his advantage!
"Teacher," Indra said, his voice calm yet carrying a subtle weight, "did you not once tell me: 'What is yet to be obtained is not yours; what is lost should no longer be regarded as yours.'?"
"To recognize the play of cause and effect is the first lesson of a righteous being."
"The curse of Rishi Durvasa has been cast. I have accepted it without protest. I strive to be kind, to follow the path of asceticism, to uphold Dharma."
"And yet, in forcing me to adhere to one aspect of Dharma, you now ask me to violate another."
"Isn't that... a little unfair?"
Indra spread his hands, feigning helplessness, his tone deceptively gentle.
"True victory," he continued softly, "is not the defeat of others... but the conquest of one's own self. Vajranga has achieved that. I believe he is worthy."
Brihaspati's face flushed crimson. His lips parted, but no words came.
He had nothing to say. In that instant, only three thoughts filled his mind.
First: Go to Brahma's abode and study the Vedas anew.
Second: Find Durvasa... and scold him.
Third: Invite Rishi Atri and Tapasvini Ansuya and scold Durvasa again!
Meanwhile, in the ocean of milk, Lord Vishnu sat upon the endless coils of Ananta Shesha, his form radiant yet still, as if he were the still point in a swirling, endless sea.
Beside him, the Sudarshan Chakra hovered, its edge gleaming ominously as it spun in slow, deliberate circles. Within its perfect geometry, a whisper echoed—a voice known only to the preserver of worlds.
"Why not unleash me upon Vajranga, my Lord?" The Sudarshan's tone carried no eagerness, only cold certainty."One stroke, and this spectacle ends. He stands proud, but pride blinds the Asura more than any curse."
Vishnu's gaze remained on Vajranga, his expression serene, detached, untouched by the suggestion.
"No," Vishnu replied softly, his voice deeper than the fathomless sea. "Asuras... they are ever the most susceptible to corruption. More so than mortals, more than even the Devas."
He paused, his golden eyes reflecting countless cycles of birth, decay, and rebirth.
"If I act now, I rob the world of its own trials. If Vajranga succumbs to his nature, it will be by his own hand... not mine."
Vishnu's lips curved into the faintest of smiles—one that held neither warmth nor malice, only the endless patience of one who preserves the balance of all things.
"We shall see, Sudarshan. The wheel turns for all in time."
The Chakra spun in eerie silence, as if accepting his Lord's will, yet its edges whispered promises of justice... when the time was right.
Vajranga exhaled deeply, his heart trembling at Indra's words.
A faint glow stirred in his eyes as he looked upon the scene before him—a gathering where even Rishi Brihaspati would argue relentlessly for Indra's sake.
He... had no such comrades.
"I lack Indra's strength... his wisdom... and even friends who stand by me like this," Vajranga thought bitterly. "Perhaps... It's time I truly embraced the path of a Rishi."
Lifting his head, he clasped his hands in respect toward Indra.
"The army of Asuras still occupies Svarga, guarding the Gandharvas and many Rishis. I believe our first duty should be to restore order and release them."
His voice was steady, decisive.
Indra paused, eyebrows lifting slightly.
Rishis? Have they been staying in Svarga all these years?
"We were entertaining them, originally," Agni added awkwardly, scratching his head. "But... once the Asuras seized Svarga, they took the Rishis captive as well."
A wave of guilt washed over Agni's face.
Indra's expression darkened slightly. Those Rishis were in trouble. Who knew what curses they'd throw at the devas if displeased?
"Fine," Indra said at last. "Let's go have a look."
...
Author's note:
Nachiketa, son of sage Vājashravasa, was given in anger by his father to Yama, the god of death. Obeying his father's word, the boy went to Yama's abode and waited three days without food or water. To atone, Yama granted him three boons.
Nachiketa asked that his father's anger be calmed. Yama granted it.
He asked to learn the fire-sacrifice that leads to heaven. Yama taught him, and the fire was named Nachiketa Agni.
He asked the greatest question: "What happens after death?"
Yama tried to tempt him with wealth, pleasure, and long life, but Nachiketa refused. At last, Yama revealed the secret: the Ātman, the Self, is eternal, unborn, and undying. It is one with Brahman, beyond sorrow and death.
Thus Nachiketa attained knowledge of immortality and returned home enlightened. (You can see this entire set of dialogues on YouTube, Upanishad Ganga.)
....
Chapter 143 Asuric Desires
At his side, the Sudarshan Chakra hovered in perfect stillness, its radiant edges gleaming with silent menace. Though it spun slowly, its voice whispered through the cosmic stillness, heard only by its master.
"Such restraint, my Lord," Sudarshan Chakra murmured, the edge of its voice laced with cold amusement. "You allowed the farce to unfold. One flick of me, and Vajranga would have been erased before he would ever set foot in Svarga."
Vishnu's gaze remained fixed upon the rippling expanse of Kshira Sagara, his expression unchanging, eternal.
"Premature action breeds imbalance," he replied, his tone as tranquil as the deep ocean. "Even a poisoned flower must be given its moment to bloom... so all may witness its true nature."
The Chakra spun faster, the hum of its edge deepening like a predator restless in its leash.
"Your mercy toward Asuras is... ever perplexing, my Lord. Let me sever the root now, before corruption festers beyond control."
Vishnu's golden eyes flickered, reflecting the endless wheel of time itself.
"No," he answered softly, the calm in his voice belying the weight of cosmic law. "The Asuras are the most vulnerable to the intoxication of power. To act now would deny them their right to choose to walk the path of Dharma... or fall from it."
"Justice cannot exist if I steal their choice. That would not be Dharma. That would be tyranny."
The Chakra's glow dimmed, a low hum vibrating with reluctant submission.
"And if Vajranga does what they always do? If he betrays Svarga?"
Vishnu's lips curved into the faintest smile, detached, patient, neither cruel nor kind.
"When that time comes... You will have your moment."
His gaze sharpened, reflecting the fathomless depths of the ocean and the cold inevitability of fate.
The Sudarshan spun in silence, as if conceding the point, though its edges still thirsted for the day it would be unleashed.
...
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Like streaks of radiant light, Indra, Rishi Brihaspati, and Rishi Kashyapa shot toward the celestial realms, their forms tearing through the skies as they raced to Svarga.
But the sight that greeted them was dire.
The skies above Svarga boiled with angry clouds. Lightning crackled and flashed like the tongues of raging Naga kings, hissing and lashing across the heavens. The air trembled with deafening roars of thunder, shaking the very pillars of the Amravati.
Boom! Boom!
The army of Asuras stood assembled, wielding enchanted weapons, surrounding the grand Temple of the King of Svarga.
Countless eyes glinted with greed, locked onto the towering temple that loomed before them. Their breath came heavy, the air thick with a tense, predatory hunger.
Through the oppressive gloom of Svarga's storm-laden skies, a voice tore through the heavy silence, dripping with disdain.
"What are we waiting for?" It was Shumbha.
His crimson gaze blazed, the hunger within him flaring like wildfire beneath the crackling heavens. His voice, rough and venomous, slithered through the assembled Asura ranks, igniting the greed in their hearts.
"The Apsaras... the treasures of the Samudra Manthan... the divine weapons, the Kalpavriksha... all of it lies before us!"
He jabbed a clawed finger toward the towering palace of Svarga, its sanctified halls now eerily still under the suffocating clouds.
"All that they hoarded... all that they denied us... is within reach. And yet you hesitate?!"His sneer deepened, curling into something feral as his tongue flicked across his lips, savoring the scent of conquest. "These halls should have been ours from the beginning."
Shumbha's snarl echoed through the army, his words infecting the horde like a plague of greed.
"Everything the devas clung to after the churning of the Kshira Sagara—today, we take them all."
He raised his blood-stained trident high, its tip crackling under the storm's fury.
"Seize it. Burn it. Strip Svarga bare!"
Beside Shumbha, Viprachitti in his scaled form glistening a sickly green in the stormlight, let his forked tongue dart across his fanged maw, the fire of greed igniting in his reptilian eyes.
"Hmph, he's right," Viprachitti rasped, his voice low and venomous.
"And let's not forget... the Rishis are still in our grasp."
Puloman stepped forward, his massive frame dwarfing the lesser Asuras, his tusked mouth curling into a vicious grin.
"Even if the king falters," Puloman snarled, "we have their sages. The Devas will bow... or face curses even they fear."
A chorus of guttural chuckles erupted among the surrounding Asuras.
Another brute with obsidian skin, Balasura, growled, "No prayers will save them now. These Rishis will curse themselves for staying this long in Svarga."
"Let them curse," spat Ketuman. "They can curse while they beg at our feet."
Their cries fanned the flames of chaos, the mob trembling with barely contained frenzy.
Viprachitti surged forward, his steps deliberate, the horde parting before him. The storm cast eerie shadows upon the sacred steps of the palace, and under the flicker of lightning, he approached the threshold.
He paused, studying the temple's defiant silence.
Slowly, he raised his jagged trident, placing one clawed foot upon the first step.
Still... nothing.
Only the crackle of lightning above, mocking in its indifference.
A cruel smile split Viprachitti's face, his voice twisting into a hiss.
"Heh... cowards, the lot of them."
He turned, baring his fangs at the horde.
"Come, brothers! Everything here... is ours to plunder!"
His laughter echoed like a curse across the heavens as he waved his hand, unleashing the tide.
"Charge!"
The Asura legions roared as one, a black tide of bodies and steel crashing toward the temple grounds, their frenzy shaking the earth itself.
"Haha! Tear it all down!" snarled Ketuman, his spear gleaming with crackling enchantments as he pushed through the ranks.
"Forward! Forward!" shouted Mura, his hissing voice slicing through the storm like a dagger. "Strip Svarga bare! Let them watch as we turn their paradise to rubble!"
"Take their Svarga, their weapons, their treasures! Even the devas will kneel tonight!" barked Tarika, an Asura captain known for his cruelty more than his strength, his bloodshot eyes gleaming.
An Asura footsoldier jeered, "These Devas hid behind their storm clouds for too long! I say we show them how real storms rage!"
The horde surged forward like a starving flood, the clash of their weapons and war cries drowning the rumble of thunder.
But just as Shumbha moved to join the onslaught, a heavy hand clamped onto his shoulder.
"Hold."
Shumbha's crimson eyes narrowed dangerously, his voice dropping to a low snarl.
At that moment, the skies darkened further, the clouds churning into an abyss of fury. Lightning crackled like an enraged horde of Nagas, their roars of thunder ripping the sky apart.
...
After Hanuman's childhood mischiefs (when he leapt to eat the sun and caused havoc among the gods), the Devas, at Brahmā's request, each granted him specific boons.
Brahmā gave him protection from all his weapons, freedom from curses, and the ability to change size at will.
Shiva: A portion of his own energy, making Hanumān a Rudra-avatāra, and the gift of immortality through the ages.
Indra: After striking him with the Vajra, Indra later blessed him so the Vajra could never harm him again and gave him a body as hard as Vajra.
Vāyu (his father): Speed faster than Garuḍa, unmatched strength, and tireless breath and vitality.
Sūrya (his guru): Complete mastery of the Vedas, śāstras, and disciplines of yoga and dharma.
Agni: Immunity to fire.
Varuṇa: Immunity to water, never to be drowned.
Yama: Freedom from death and disease.
Vishṇu: Assurance that no one would ever equal him in strength or valor.
Kāmadeva: Immunity to lust, desire, or temptation.
...
Chapter 144 Dharma and Desire
The thunder cracked like a celestial war drum, echoing across the heavens, louder than Panchajanya's Ghosha and deeper than the pulse of Shiva's damaru. It wasn't just sound. It was a declaration. Judgment of the skies had arrived.
From the churning canopy of clouds above Svarga, a radiant figure burst forth like a comet made of lightning and wrath. Draped in a cloak the color of blood-soaked sunset, he descended with divine gravity. The vajra in his hand glowed with the fury of storms, pulling down streaks of thunder that rained from the heavens like a flame waterfall.
When it struck the ground, the sound split the world. Ripples of electricity tore through the battlefield, a rolling tide of divine destruction.
Dozens of Asuras were thrown through the air, their screams drowned by the roar of thunder. Some turned to ash mid-flight. Others were hurled into the stones like broken dolls, their armor fused to their blackened skin.
Among them, one green-scaled warrior, crushed by the storm, was flung like a meteor and landed hard in front of Shumbha. His body smoked, skin cracked and scorched, groaning as he coughed out smoke and blood.
Shumbha narrowed his eyes and retreated in quick flashes of movement. When the broken warrior finally stopped rolling, Shumbha glanced at him without recognition. There was no time for pity.
His eyes were already lifting toward the sky.
Up above, the thunder churned into a sea of blue flame. And within that storm, a red cloak rippled like a divine banner. At first, Shumbha's eyes squinted in confusion.
"Rajan...?" he murmured. But then the figure rose beneath the red.
His breath caught.
"No," Shumbha whispered, panic blooming in his chest. "It's him…"
His voice cracked as the memories returned, Nishumbha charging ahead under Hiranyakashipu's orders, screaming defiance, only to be laid flat in three blows. Shumbha had escaped by pretending to be dead beneath the bodies of the fallen. And now, the one nightmare he never wanted to see again had returned in full fury.
"Indra!" he said aloud, stumbling back, his composure breaking.
Behind him, the Asura ranks stirred in confusion, then dread. Viprachitti's grin faded as he stared upward, his forked tongue darting between his fangs in unease. Puloman growled low in his throat, gripping his weapon tightly, though his stance shifted uneasily, ready to retreat at a moment's notice. Ketuman hissed between his teeth.
"It's the devaraja Indra... It's really him," he muttered.
Balasura's voice cut through the murmuring. "What's he doing back now?! Wasn't he banished?"
"I knew this would happen!" Durmatha snapped, eyes wide. "I told you fools we should have razed the temple when we had the chance!"
The army began to unravel.
Cries of fear rippled through the ranks, and some began to flee. Others shouted in blind rage, trying to rally. But none stepped forward.
Indra stood in silence, framed by lightning. He hadn't moved since his descent; he didn't need to. His presence alone shattered their momentum.
Farther back, the Gandharvas, still bound with rope, gasped at the sight, lightning crackling across the sky, and Indra's silhouette framed in the heart of the storm.
Tumburu, bloodied but unbowed, stared up with wide eyes. His voice was low, almost prayerful."Indra... the King has returned."
Beside him, Hāhā, breathing hard through cracked lips, nodded slowly."We were not abandoned... Svarga remembers its own."
The chained soldiers wept openly now, some bowing even while seated, their heads lowered in reverence.
Across the broken courtyard, the captive Rishis raised their eyes. Their robes were torn, their faces lined with exhaustion. But each responded differently.
One Rishi's eyes welled with tears. Another exhaled slowly, a faint smile on his lips. A third stared in silence, arms folded, lips tight.
"He returns," one said quietly. "Even after being cursed by Rishi Duvasa a second time… he still came to save Svarga."
Yet no one spoke louder than Indra himself.
He stood still, a silent titan, as thunder cracked behind him and the Asuras trembled before the storm.
Streams of radiant energy burst through the storm-dark sky, descending like pillars of divine fire. One after another, glowing forms appeared, illuminating the shattered battlefield.
A towering, armored figure stood at the center of them, calm, composed, and crackling with suppressed power.
Vajranga had returned.
"King!" Shumbha exclaimed, his voice sharp with disbelief.
The Asura ranks stirred. Where moments ago panic had taken root, now eyes filled with relief and awe. The tide had not yet turned, but their king had returned, and with him came hope.
From among the debris, a scorched figure staggered to his feet, his charred scales barely clinging to his smoking frame. It was Viparchitti, his green lizard-like hide now blackened and cracked, embers dancing from his skin as he knelt, trembling.
"King… you must avenge me," Viparchitti rasped. "They ambushed me… struck me down with treachery!"
He bowed low, his voice pitiful, but Vajranga's face remained unreadable. The King of Asuras walked forward without expression, each step deliberate as he descended from the battlefield platform, silence trailing in his wake.
Kritya raised his eyes with hope, but the answer came not in words.
Boom!
Vajranga's fist swung upward like a rising cannon and crashed into Viparchitti's chin with monstrous force. The sound cracked across the field as Kritya was launched through the air like a broken meteor.
He crashed beside Shumbha with a heavy thud, groaning once before falling still.
Shumbha blinked, crimson eyes flashing. He took a half-step back in shock. "He… struck down Kritya?"
Around them, the battlefield froze.
Gandharvas, gods, Asuras, even the bound Rishis, all turned to witness the moment. Whispers spread through the air like smoke.
"Why? Why strike down one of his own?" Ketuman clenched his fists, nostrils flaring. "It's a show. A performance for the devas," he spat. "But at whose cost? Ours?"
Rishi Kashyapa's gaze sharpened.
Agni's flames flickered in silence, while the other Devas exchanged glances, some intrigued, others suspicious, all unsettled.
Indra raised a brow and muttered under his breath. "That one's built like a sandbag... still twitching after a thunderbolt punch. Quite stubborn."
But Vajranga's voice rang out before anyone else could speak.
"How dare you disobey my command!"
His words rolled like thunder, full of restrained fury. His power surged again, raw and palpable, whipping through the air like a gathering storm. Svarga itself seemed to bend under the weight of his presence.
Viprachitti whimpered, curling into himself, now too afraid to even speak.
The gathered forces of Asura, Deva, Gandharva, and Rishi felt it clearly.
This was no ordinary Asura. This was a true ruler who commanded the Asuras.
And yet, he turned.
Vajranga stepped forward, his movements slow and measured. Every step echoed. He came to stand before Indra, spine straight, shoulders proud. And then, before the shocked gaze of the world, he bowed.
Palms pressed together, hands raised above his head, he saluted the king of Svarga. Vajranga, the King of Asuras, bowed to Indra.
The air thickened with disbelief.
Shumbha's lips parted. Puloman gritted his teeth. Viprachitti narrowed his eyes. Even the most hardened Asuras stared in silence, unable to speak.
Indra, blinking twice, stepped forward, half in disbelief, half in calculation.
"Wait, you're really leaving?" he asked, incredulous. "You're going to give this up? All of this?"
He gestured toward the thunder-lit halls of Svarga.
"You don't want to be a ruler of Triloka? Stay, rule beside the throne of Svarga. You'd have power, respect... This place is magnificent, Vajranga. Why return to Patala?"
Around them, the gods held their breath.
The Rishis exchanged guarded looks. And the Asuras… they seethed.
Durmatha's jaw locked. "He's surrendering."
Balasura's voice was low, venomous. "He bows to the Devas now? A traitor."
Even Ketuman muttered bitterly, "I should have known he'd be swayed by his father's words."
But Vajranga only smiled faintly, the stormlight catching in his eyes. He turned slightly, meeting Rishi Kashyapa's gaze. Then, raising a single finger, he spoke:
"My father once said..."
...
Author's note: If Hanuman was blessed with the greatest number of boons in Itihasa, then Karna was burdened with the greatest number of curses.
Karna posed as a Brahmin to learn astras. When an insect bored into his thigh, he bore the pain silently. Parashurama (6th Avatar of Vishnu) awoke, saw the truth, and cursed him: the knowledge of astras would fail him at his most crucial hour of need.
While practicing archery, Karna killed a Brahmin's cow by mistake. The Brahmin, stricken with grief, cursed him twice. The earth would one day swallow his chariot wheel, and like the helpless cow, he too would die weaponless and defenseless.
Kunti, born as Pritha and adopted by King Kuntibhoja, who was her uncle and Yadava chief, approached Karna before the great war and revealed herself as his mother. She pleaded with him to spare the Pandavas. Karna promised that she would remain the mother of five sons even after the war. Bound by this vow, he spared Yudhishthira, Bhima, Nakula, and Sahadeva whenever he gained the upper hand against them in battle, though killing them could have ended the war in the Kauravas' favor. The only exception he allowed was Arjuna, against whom he reserved his full strength. This oath is considered a chain or curse by me on Karna.
Every gift he received carried its undoing. The armor and earrings that made him invincible were lost to Indra's trickery. His immense generosity often stripped him of protection. Even destiny seemed to conspire against him.
During the war, when Karna's chariot wheel sank into the earth and he stood defenseless, Arjuna hesitated to strike. Krishna (Vishnu's 8th Avatar) reminded him of Karna's past misdeeds and the injustices he had supported. Stirred by Krishna's words, Arjuna loosed the Anjalika Astra and killed Karna.
...
Chapter 145 The Harder Path
"My father once said that." Vajranga's voice carried calm authority, echoing softly in the silence that followed. Around him, many of the Asuras stood still, their expressions a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and restrained resentment.
He glanced at them briefly, then shifted his gaze to Indra and Rishi Kashyapa. Speaking in a low tone only the two could hear, he continued.
"Those who carry a kind heart and build their path through righteous deeds will one day be worthy of entering Svarga."
He paused for a moment, his eyes unwavering.
"I will not claim this Svarga by conquest. I will earn it through karma."
Vajranga's voice held a quiet conviction that was not meant to be debated. He didn't proclaim it to the army. He had no desire to provoke ambition, jealousy, or rebellion among the other Asuras. His decision was personal, and once his responsibilities were complete, he intended to leave this world with his wife and seek his own path, far from the burdens of kingship.
Kashyapa smiled, clearly moved by the clarity of his son's purpose.
"You are welcome at my ashram any time," he said warmly. "You may even find someone waiting for you there. Someone unexpected."
Vajranga returned the smile and lowered his head in a respectful bow. His hands came together in reverence, and for a moment, he seemed almost at peace.
Indra exhaled, somewhat regretfully.
"You would always have a place here," he said. "Truly. You don't need to struggle to reach Svarga. With your strength and boon, it is already within your grasp."
He took a step forward, his tone lighter, though a note of disappointment lingered.
"Why not stay? Be the King of Svarga instead of just being another Asura King. Look around you. This place is yours, if you want it."
The devas watching nearby tensed. None of them had expected Indra to extend such an offer so openly. Some looked uneasy. Others, uncertain.
The Asuras were stunned.
Durmatha clenched his jaw. Balasura looked away, eyes dark. Ketuman crossed his arms tightly across his chest, saying nothing, though his silence burned.
Durmatha clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding audibly. "So what if he was appointed by Indra?" he muttered. "He'll rule Svarga all the same. That's more than any of us ever achieved."
Balasura averted his gaze, his eyes dark and clouded with disbelief. "So this is what it means to walk in the light?" he said bitterly. "Trading pride for paradise?"
Ketuman, arms crossed tightly across his chest, glared at Vajranga without speaking for a long moment. Then, his voice came cold, low, and venomous."I should have known he'd abandon us for the sweet words of sages. But to leave us now... after everything... is to betray the blood we spilled in his name."
Vajranga remained still, seemingly unmoved by their resentment. His gaze shifted toward Rishi Kashyapa, steady and unwavering. Then, slowly raising a single finger, he spoke with quiet finality.
"Svarga is not a throne to be seized by force. I pray that even the Asura Kings who come after me remember this: it must be earned, not taken."
He turned sharply, the crimson cloak on his back sweeping behind him as he strode toward the gathered Asura army. Each step echoed with a command. The crowd parted at once, clearing a wide path before him without a word.
"Release the Gandharvas and the Rishis," he said, his voice calm but absolute. "We are going home."
The Asuras hesitated. Several looked around as if seeking someone to challenge the order. But none spoke. One by one, they stepped forward and released the bindings that had held the Gandharvas and Rishis captive.
Chains of divine light crumbled and vanished. The freed captives staggered, some gasping in quiet disbelief. Others bowed silently.
"I will return," Shumbha said under his breath, unable to accept the turn of events. His voice was hard and quiet, and only a few heard it. But the fire in his eyes was unmistakable.
Moments later, the Asura legions began to rise into the air. One by one, they vanished into the sky, their bodies streaking like meteors across the firmament, heading for Patala beyond the stars.
A silence settled over Svarga as they departed.
Indra stood alone upon the golden platform, his gaze following the trails left in their wake. His hands slowly curled into fists.
"He could have stayed," he said softly to himself. "He could have had everything."
But he had chosen the harder path. "When will you ascend then, Vajranga?"
Behind him, Rishi Brihaspati watched in silence. He had heard Indra's quiet murmur and looked on with a thoughtful expression.
"Indra still has too much softness in him," Brihaspati thought. "Letting the Asuras go without punishment. That may seem noble, but too much kindness only weakens your image. If the lion stops hunting, soon it is mistaken for a crippled beast."
He said nothing aloud, but made a note to speak with Indra in the days ahead.
Meanwhile, Rishi Kashyapa let out a soft breath and closed his eyes for a moment.
"The Rishis and Gandharavas are safe," he said, voice calm and content. "And with that, our task is complete. It is time to return to the ashram."
His gaze lifted to the open sky, now clearing of smoke and thunder.
The battle between Svarga and Patala had ended without leaving a trace. Peace returned to the Svarga, and with it, a sense of closure. Rishi Kashyapa stood still for a moment, his heart calm. The mission entrusted to him by Brahma had been fulfilled. Vajranga had departed. With his withdrawal, there would likely be no more Asuras of such overwhelming might in the near future.
It was a relief.
Kashyapa exhaled slowly, eyes soft. The Devas around him shared his sense of release.
A ripple of divine energy pulsed through the crowd. Light shimmered across their skin. One by one, the Devas began to restore their forms, sacred garments manifesting in gold, silver, crimson, and azure flashes of brilliance. Threads of divine silk flowed around them, wrapping each in their rightful regalia, as if Svarga itself welcomed their return.
"They're finally gone," said Surya, breathing a long sigh of relief.
He turned his gaze toward the others, a hint of exasperation on his radiant face.
"I never imagined we'd be captured. What a disgrace. Completely unexpected."
There was bitterness in his voice, not toward the enemy, but toward the humiliation of the moment. His brow twitched slightly as he recalled the scene.
His divine horse, spooked by one of the Asura lieutenants with oversized ears, had refused to move, completely frozen, as if paralyzed. That alone was hard to live down.
Vayu stood nearby, arms crossed, silent. His jaw tightened slightly.
He hadn't even made it onto Surya's chariot before being knocked aside by an ambush. The shame lingered in his chest like smoke after a fire.
Next time, he promised himself, he would not be caught off guard.
"Fortunately, big brother was here in time," said Agni, stepping forward. His tone was loud, earnest, and impatient as ever.
"You're not meditating or secluded anymore, are you? Then you should still count as one of us! A proper King of Devas ruling over Svarga, not some wandering hermit!"
His hands were outstretched, his usually stoic face tinged with urgency. Though his voice was rough, the warmth behind his words was unmistakable.
Agni had believed the power of Svarga would carry him through any battle, but Vajranga's might had proven otherwise.
Indra chuckled and raised a hand, clapping it against Agni's shoulder. "You didn't fail," he said, voice light. "It was a miscalculation. That's all."
He smiled faintly, his expression somewhere between gentle and amused.
"Besides, you only lost once. Your courage didn't falter, and you fought with your full strength. That's what matters."
Agni blinked, eyes wide. He hadn't expected praise. "Really?" he asked.
Indra nodded, still smiling. "Vajranga chose to leave. The Asuras now lack a leader. The scales have tipped in our favor. It may not look like a grand victory, but it's one all the same."
Agni opened his mouth slightly, surprised. His doubt flickered away, replaced by something warm and prideful.
Just as Indra stepped forward to speak again, a sound interrupted him.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Footsteps echoed gently across the marble floor.
Indra turned, his expression neutral but alert. A group of Rishis approached, their robes still frayed, but their steps firm and measured. The tension in the air shifted as they neared.
At the front, Rishi Brihaspati and Rishi Kashyapa moved forward to meet them. Their hands came together in a respectful greeting.
The elder Rishis, their faces bearing lines of age and wisdom, stopped just before the two priests. Each offered a small bow in return. Their expressions were varied. Some were warm, others unreadable, but all carried the weight of survivors who had been held captive.
But the next moment, the eyes of the assembled Rishis turned toward the Devas.
Some looked calm, their gazes cool but composed. Others, however, narrowed their eyes with visible irritation. Cold glints shimmered behind long beards and quiet steps.
Tread. Tread.
Two particularly formidable Rishis stepped forward. Their faces were hard as stone, eyes burning with indignation. They broke through the crowd, robes swaying, and stopped several paces from the gods.
Indra's expression tightened. A sharp breath caught in his throat.
Not good.
This was exactly what he had feared.
In the world of Karma, Rishis with unpredictable tempers were more terrifying than any weapon. And among them, there were always a few who resembled Durvasa—fiery, volatile, and entirely immune to restraint.
Sometimes, even an honest mistake, a misplaced word, or an awkward silence was enough to ignite their fury. And when that happened, curses rained like fire.
"Devas!" thundered the elder Rishi on the left, his voice rippling with the weight of sacred fire. His round form quivered as he raised his hand, eyes blazing with fury. "You, who are entrusted with the protection of Dharma and its seers—how could you allow this? You let Rishis be bound and thrown into darkness by the Asuras!"
The second Rishi stepped forward, his tone sharp and icy. "As yajamānas, you invited us into your realm. As adhvaryus, you were our ritual guardians. And yet... You failed to uphold your duty. You let guests be dishonored in the halls of Svarga!"
Their voices rose with each word. Their faces flushed deeper red. Their eyes locked onto Indra, Agni, Surya, and the others, reflecting not disappointment, but fury.
It was the kind of fury that boiled over into divine judgment.
And then it came.
Boom!
A tremor rolled through the air. Divine pressure pulsed out from their bodies. The very power of penance, accumulated over centuries, burst forth like coiled thunder.
Lightning streaked across the sky.
The skies rumbled.
Indra's eyes narrowed sharply. His body tensed, ready for impact.
Rishi Brihaspati stood frozen, lips slightly parted, eyes wide with dread. Rishi Kashyapa stiffened beside him, stunned and silent by the sudden eruption.
Even gods who had just survived the war with Patala now looked pale.
Agni blinked several times, stunned into place. His knees nearly buckled.
"I just escaped the hands of Asuras," he thought bitterly, cold sweat forming on his temple. "Now I have to prepare for a curse? From my own guests?"
Surya stood still, stunned. His usual brilliance dimmed slightly.
Vayu, Varuna, and Soma looked on with quiet horror, not daring to breathe.
And then, the thunder roared again.
Boom!
The skies crackled as the elder Rishis raised their hands.
"Devas!" the first Rishi shouted again.
...
One of the most famous and notorious welcomes of a guest in Itihas.
Right before the Mahabharata, Krishna came to Hastinapura as shanti doot, seeking peace. Duryodhana offered a royal feast and lodging, but Krishna did not accept hollow honor. To eat a man's food is to accept his welcome, his intent, and a share of his cause. He made it clear to Duryodhan that he would not eat the food of one who hates the Pandavas. He went to Vidura's home, where love and dharma were real.
In the sabha, with Dhritarashtra on the throne and the Kauravas arrayed in pride, Krishna asked for peace and conveyed that even five villages would satisfy the Pandavas.
Duryodhana mocked the plea and swore he would not grant land equal to the point of a needle. He ordered his men to seize Krishna. Bhagavan stood unshaken and revealed the cosmic form. The hall trembled.
Dhritarashtra cried out for sight. By grace, he received divine vision for a moment and beheld that form, then begged the Lord to return to his gentle shape. Krishna withdrew the radiance and stood as the same friend they had known.
He spoke peacefully. Peace was offered and refused. The sin of war would rest on those who chose pride. He bowed to the elders, blessed Vidura, and left the court. The Lord departed for Upaplavya to tell the Pandavas the truth, witness to the path Hastinapura had chosen.
