Chapter 108: Breaking the Cocoon
Inside the endless void, nothing existed.
No light.
No sound.
No hope.
Only the steady rhythm of fists pounding against the unyielding walls
Thud
Thud
Thud
Ram had long lost any sense of time. He did not know when the others had fallen silent. He did not know that Arjun, the famed wielder of divine astras, had already lowered his bow and accepted defeat. He did not know that the princes of Hastinapur, the Rakshasas, or the Asuras had all surrendered to despair.
He only knew the wall in front of him.
And he only knew his fists.
His body held no prana, no divine energy. He was bare flesh and bone. But that flesh had been honed beyond mortal comprehension. His scars told the story—scars that Bhishma himself recognized, for Ram's constitution was one forged through cruelty, blood, and endless suffering.
At last, after what felt like an eternity, the void trembled.
Crack.
The faintest line appeared where his fists had hammered relentlessly for months in his perception. A hairline fracture but real.
Ram did not smile. He did not celebrate. His eyes remained closed, his face stoic, and his fists simply continued to fall in the same rhythm.
Thud
Thud
Crack
Crack
The fracture spread. Tiny splinters of light pierced through the black cocoon. For the first time since the test began, the walls seemed mortal.
---
In the Arena
The crowd erupted into chaos.
"He… he's breaking it?"
"Impossible That cocoon was supposed to be unbreakable"
"He has no prana, no siddhi—what kind of monster is this man?"
The nobles and warriors exchanged frantic looks. Even Parashurama leaned forward, interest gleaming in his old eyes. Vishwamitra's lips curled in faint intrigue. Bhishma sat in silence, his gaze unblinking, his heart sinking with a memory only he understood.
But the ordinary kings—the rulers of small and medium kingdoms—reacted with fear. For them, this wasn't awe. It was terror.
One of them, a lesser-known king with jealousy burning in his chest, suddenly stood and shouted, his voice shaking the coliseum.
"I know this man Do you fools not see? He is no warrior, no hero He is a butcher"
The crowd gasped.
The king's words poured like venom.
"Two years ago, the Kingdom of Bhimsare was destroyed. Not by me as you have been told No—it was slaughtered, erased, by that man That tall, dark-skinned demon standing there"
The arena froze in silence. The king's words pierced every heart. He raised a rolled parchment, unfurling an animal-skin painting made by a famed artist.
The image showed a towering man, his body dark and massive, his face blurred in shadow, surrounded by carnage and rivers of blood.
It was the same man.
It was Ram.
Gasps and cries erupted across the stands. Some women shrieked. Some men cursed. Even seasoned warriors clenched their fists, recalling the tales of Bhimsare, the day an entire royal lineage was butchered in a single night.
"That man is a monster" the king spat, face twisted with triumph. "Even demons tremble at his cruelty Such a vile beast should not be allowed here"
The crowd roared in agreement, panic and fear spreading like wildfire.
"Kill him"
"Remove him from the tournament"
"Rudra Raja, you must act"
But Rudra did not move.
His eyes swept over the crowd, cold and unblinking. The silence he commanded was heavier than a storm.
When he finally spoke, his voice struck like thunder.
"Do you all take me for a fool?"
The crowd stiffened.
"If Ram were the beast you claim him to be, would I allow him to stand here? Would I have given him entry into this sacred tournament? Do you believe me so blind?"
His words silenced even the loudest voices. The accusing king shrank back, trembling under Rudra's piercing gaze, his earlier arrogance collapsing into shame.
Rudra continued, his tone sharp as a blade.
"Do not let fear cloud your judgment. Always see both sides of the coin. The truth is never what cowards whisper behind walls."
His words cut through the panic, and the crowd fell into uneasy silence.
---
The Revelation
Rudra then turned, his voice calm but commanding.
"Now that only one warrior remains hammering at the cocoon, let me reveal the truth of this test to you."
All leaned forward, breath caught in anticipation.
"This is not a battle of strength," Rudra said. "Not a contest of astras, not a duel of weapons. This is a game of persistence and willpower. The walls will never break until only one participant remains. Only when all others surrender, does the cocoon begin to crack."
The crowd erupted in realization.
"So that's it"
"It was never about brute force"
"Then Ram…"
Rudra's eyes lingered on the cracking cocoon. His expression remained unreadable, but inside, he felt the weight of inevitability.
"This is why he endures," Rudra whispered. "Because persistence is his truth."
---
Inside the Cocoon
Ram's fists fell one final time.
THUD
CRACK
The cocoon walls shattered, collapsing in a flood of light.
Ram stood amidst the fragments, his face still serene, his fists still clenched, his eyes still closed.
And the world finally saw him—not as a monster, not as a commoner, but as the man who outlasted princes, asuras, rakshasas, and even the great Arjun.
The arena shook with silence, then with whispers, then with a roar that shook the skies.
And thus, the name of Ram entered the legend of Bharatvarsh.