Ancient India, Maurya Empire, 3rd Century BCE.
Valmiki stared in terror at the streak of light stretching across the heavens, as though piercing through past and future alike. It enveloped the lands of the Maurya Empire, its dazzling hues like a rainbow cast upon the sky. At first glance, one might mistake it for an auspicious omen—but as an ascetic, Valmiki felt as though he could hear the whispers of the gods, telling him this was no blessing, but a terror capable of annihilating the world.
He realized he might have unwittingly unleashed some terrible demon, one that sought to destroy the world.
No—it wasn't him who had released it. The demon had always existed. He had merely arrived at this place by chance, witnessing its emergence.
Valmiki consoled himself with this thought, for only by doing so could he ease his heart and continue to think clearly.
Even as an ascetic, even as one nearing the end of his life, the sight of that unnatural band of light and its oppressive colors filled him with dread. His scalp prickled, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.
"What… what is this? Why does merely seeing it make my heart ache so terribly?"
Shivering, Valmiki stumbled back to where the palm leaves had been placed, bending down to gather them. He did not know what those luminous bands floating infinitely high in the sky truly were—he only knew that his duty now was to collect these palm leaves documenting the tale of Veeraj.
Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet began to tremble. At the center of the nearby Ganges, a massive whirlpool formed. Though he was a man of great virtue, enlightened in spirit and far beyond ordinary men, Valmiki was still merely mortal—no Campione, no Heretic God. Faced with such an impossible spectacle, even he could not help but feel a chill of horror and awe. Such was human nature.
In this era, simple magecraft was still called witchcraft, a knowledge reserved only for priests. Though Valmiki bore the Brahmin name, he had been abandoned and thus never learned any such arts. Even his ascetic abilities were self-taught.
The earth trembled violently, causing the Ganges to surge backward and all living creatures to be upended. Centered around the river, eight fissures appeared in the surrounding land, and combined with the whirlpool at the river's heart, they formed the ultimate number—'nine.'
Then, under the horrified gaze of Valmiki, nine bizarre pillars slowly emerged from the depths of the earth and the river.
The pillars were both sacred and grotesquely beautiful, their golden surfaces embedded with countless eyes. These eyes, like the compound eyes of some eldritch deity, scanned the heavens and earth with icy indifference and utter detachment. Just one glance at those eyes made Valmiki's stomach churn, forcing him to double over and vomit up the meal he had eaten that very afternoon.
This was the sacred artifact of the gods—Valmiki knew it with just one look.
This was the profane creation of demons—Valmiki recognized it with just one look.
That was an anomalous existence that fused evil with goodness, the sacred with the twisted, the divine with the demonic—a miracle from a distant future, another time and space, known as the "King of Mages," utterly out of place in this era.
Its name was the Demon God Pillar. The moment he laid eyes on it, Valmiki inexplicably conceived this thought.
"Activate, activate! The nine pillars governing the smelting furnace, namely Zepar, Botis, Bathin, Sallos, Purson, Morax, Ipos, and Aim!"
"We nine pillars, versed in melodies through the night! We nine pillars, composing hymns!"
The nine aberrant pillars uttered grand pronouncements, devoid of any emotion, as if they were pre-programmed mechanisms. Their incomprehensible, intolerable voices filled the heavens and the earth. Then, Valmiki beheld the final sight of his life—the flames of human order's destruction, incinerating all!
...
In the palace of King Ashoka, the aged monarch sat serenely upon his throne. In his youth, he had been decisive in war and execution, but after embracing Buddhism, his entire demeanor had mellowed. He now adhered to Buddhist principles, forbade killing, and was a devout follower of the faith. Yet, he remained tolerant of other religions, preserving India's traditional beliefs such as Brahmanism and Jainism.
It was Ashoka's policies that influenced later Indian rulers, fostering a land where multiple religions coexisted.
"Who can tell me what those luminous bands in the sky are?"
Ashoka surveyed his courtiers, each of whom bowed their heads in humility under his gaze. Though the elderly king was gentle and abhorred violence, the majesty he had cultivated over decades was no laughing matter. Moreover, Ashoka had not abolished the death penalty, so grave offenses still invited severe punishment.
The courtiers exchanged uneasy glances, none knowing the origin of the radiant bands that had suddenly appeared in the sky, enveloping everything in sight.
A Brahmin devotee stepped forward after a moment's thought and proclaimed loudly to the king, "O King, it must be Lord Vishnu, moved by your governance of this land, bestowing divine grace upon us! This is an auspicious omen, my liege!"
The Brahmin spoke with devout fervor. The others suddenly realized their missed opportunity—why hadn't they spoken up sooner? This was the perfect moment to gain the king's favor by attributing the miracle to their own deities.
Though inwardly regretful, they chorused in unison, "Indeed, this is divine favor upon the king, proof that your virtue has moved the gods!"
Ashoka regarded his subjects with satisfaction. Though the garish light bands struck him as somewhat amiss, anyone might initially mistake them for a celestial blessing.
Just then, a guard announced, "My king, a revered monk seeks an audience!"
Hearing of the monk's arrival, Ashoka was overjoyed and rose hastily. "Quickly, invite the venerable one in!"
Seeing the king's excitement, the Brahmin devotees in the palace secretly shook their heads. The king was indeed a devout Buddhist—no matter how they attributed these miracles to Lord Vishnu, it still couldn't compare to the arrival of a high monk.
However, the king was old and likely wouldn't live much longer. As for his child, perhaps they could try to convert him.
So thought the Brahmin devotee.
Before long, an emaciated monk entered with swift, purposeful strides, clearly a man of ability. Upon arriving in the palace, he did not bow to King Ashoka but instead spoke urgently: "...Ashoka, that light is no auspicious omen—it heralds the descent of a demon god!"
"Silence!"
"How dare you!"
The faces of those in the palace darkened as they angrily rebuked him. They had just declared this a blessing—how dare this monk call it a demon god? It was an outright insult!
But Ashoka's expression turned grave. Compared to his subordinates, he trusted the monk more.
At that moment, the earth suddenly trembled violently, shaking the palace and sending dust raining from the ceiling. Panic erupted among those inside.
"...What's happening?"
"An earthquake?!"
"My king, we must flee!"
"..."
Chaos filled the palace, and the guards outside cried out in terror. Ashoka, his face solemn, quickly descended from his throne and strode outside with the monk. There, they witnessed the source of the disturbance.
In the capital of the Maurya Empire, nine bizarre and mystical golden pillars were rising from the ground!
"Awaken, awaken! The nine pillars of the Intelligence Room—Oriax, Vapula, Sargon, Valac, Andras, Andrealphus, Cimejes, Amdusias!"
"We nine pillars comprehend the words! We nine pillars recite the phenomena!"
The sacred yet sinister pillars uttered cold, merciless words, striking awe into all who heard them.
At the same time, across the entire Maurya Empire, seventy-two demon pillars emerged from the void, summoned by the Holy Grail's magic. This was—
The Incineration of Human Order!
***
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