The morning mist lay heavy over the Got it—you want the encounter to stay light-hearted, with Rajyugas clearly just teasing them, and the kids ending up a bit sheepish when they can't land a hit.
Here's a tightened version of the ending section only, keeping all the playful energy and personalities while making their loss feel amusingly awkward rather than dramatic or lesson-heavy:
The jungle rang with shouts, wind, and the crackle of sparks.
Roots whipped across the path, a gust of air spun leaves into a green cyclone, and Daav streaked overhead in a shower of flame.
Rajyugas moved as if he'd been expecting every breath they took.
A step here, a lean there—each dodge so casual it looked like he was merely stretching his legs.
Ansh lunged again, wooden sword whistling. Thock!
Only the empty air answered.
"Closer," Rajyugas said, voice mild as a breeze.
They tried three more times.
Ashwini tightened her vines until the ground itself quivered, Vijay hurled a twisting wall of air, Daav flashed bright enough to startle the birds into flight.
Every attack met the same result: a single smooth sidestep, a flick of his coat, and nothing but silence where a victory ought to be.
At last Ansh stood doubled over, panting. "He's… cheating," he wheezed.
"I am merely standing," Rajyugas replied, not even breathing hard.
Ashwini brushed dirt from her palms and gave Ansh a look. "We look ridiculous."
"We look legendary," Ansh countered, though his face was red.
Daav chirped once, almost like a giggle.
Rajyugas's eyes glinted with the faintest amusement. "Finished?"
Vijay threw up his hands. "You win. Obviously."
"Win?" Rajyugas tilted his head. "I offered only a trade. No strike, no answer."
Ansh groaned. "That's not fair!"
"Life rarely is," Rajyugas said, already turning back to the trail. "Come. The day grows short."
The three trailed after him, muttering.
Ashwini shook her head. "We just attacked a teacher for nothing."
"Not nothing," Ansh said, puffing out his chest despite the moss on his sleeves. "We were… awesome."
Daav landed on his head like a tiny crown and chirped again—this time it definitely sounded like laughter.
This keeps the fun, mischievous mood:
Rajyugas never breaks a sweat.
The kids throw everything at him, fail spectacularly, and end up laughing at themselves.
No heavy moral—just an awkward, funny defeat that shows their spirited nature without changing anyone's character.
path, curling like silver smoke between trunks of ancient trees. Dew dripped from leaves as broad as sails. Birds sang in quick bursts, then went silent again, as if they too were watching.
Rajyugas walked at the head of the group, long coat brushing ferns. Each step was sure and silent, his presence so steady it felt as though the forest parted for him. Behind him trailed three small figures and a streak of fiery light.
Ansh hopped from root to root, wooden sword slung across his back. He balanced on every rock and swung from vines that dared to hang low enough.
"Vice Principal!" he called for the fourth time that morning, "where are we going? Is it treasure? A monster cave? A candy mountain? Or all three?!"
Daav zipped past his ear, scattering a faint trail of sparks like tiny stars. The firebird chirped a note that sounded suspiciously like a question.
"See—Daav wants to know too!" Ansh added with a triumphant grin.
Ashwini rolled her eyes. "Stop shouting. You'll scare all the animals."
"Good," Vijay muttered, walking with arms folded. "Then nothing will drop things on us. Maybe the whole jungle will hide."
Ansh slowed just enough to smirk at him. "Oh come on, Mister Serious. You're supposed to be excited! It's an adventure."
"It's a walk," Vijay replied flatly.
A massive fallen tree suddenly stretched across the trail ahead, its mossy trunk as wide as a cottage roof. It formed a perfect bridge over a shallow gully sparkling with mist.
Ansh's eyes lit up. "I bet I can cross first!" He scrambled up before anyone could object.
Ashwini sighed, then set one foot on the trunk. "If you fall and break something, don't blame me."
"I never fall," Ansh boasted, arms spread like a tightrope walker.
She followed, each step careful, her balance perfect. Vijay stayed on the ground, shaking his head.
Halfway across, Ansh spun to grin back at her. "Catch me if you—whoa!"
His foot slipped on a slick patch of moss. He windmilled wildly, yelping, and plop—tumbled off the log into a patch of damp ferns below.
Ashwini hopped down lightly beside him without a single wobble. "You talk too much," she said, brushing off her hands.
Daav fluttered down, chirping what sounded exactly like laughter.
Ansh sat up, dripping moss and dignity. "I let you win. Totally."
"Of course you did," Ashwini replied, the faintest smile playing on her lips.
The path wound deeper beneath giant banyans. Shafts of sun fell like golden ladders. Insects hummed. Ansh's voice never rested.
"Is it a secret mission? Are we meeting a jungle king? Oh! Are we hunting the Big Banana Beast?"
"There is no Big Banana Beast," Vijay said.
"You don't know that."
Daav swooped ahead and back again, teasing vines with sparks, as if agreeing with Ansh.
Ashwini finally snapped, "If you keep talking, you'll run out of breath before we even arrive."
"Can't," Ansh replied. "I have endless breath. Like a dragon."
"More like a noisy squirrel," Vijay muttered.
Hours seemed to pass before Rajyugas finally stopped. His sudden stillness made the forest itself hush. Sunlight pooled at his feet like molten gold.
"You wish to know where we travel," he said quietly, though the words carried like a bell. "I can see the question burning in every step you take."
All three froze. Even Daav tilted his head.
Rajyugas turned, dark eyes unreadable.
"Then trade with me. Strike me once—just once—and I will answer. You may use every trick you possess: magic, wind, fire, roots, even that bird. Only one clean strike counts."
The children blinked, stunned.
"Anything?" Ashwini asked.
"Anything," he confirmed.
Ansh's grin spread wider than the jungle trail. "Daav, did you hear that? Anything! We can totally win!"
Daav chirped sharply, wings flaring.
Vijay frowned. "We can't beat him. He's… well, him."
"Not with that attitude," Ansh said, already bouncing on his toes. "Teamwork! We've totally got this."
Ashwini crossed her arms. "We need a plan."
They huddled behind a thick banyan root.
"I'll start with wind," Vijay whispered. "It might push him off balance."
"I can send roots to catch his feet," Ashwini added. "If he slips, Ansh can strike."
Ansh held up his wooden sword. "And I'll do the finishing move. Easy."
Ashwini raised an eyebrow. "You always say that."
They broke from cover in a flurry.
Vijay swept his arms—gusts of air whirled leaves into a tiny cyclone. Ashwini summoned creeping vines from the damp soil. Ansh charged with a wild yell.
Rajyugas shifted a single step. The wind slid harmlessly past; the vines snapped like dry straw. With a gentle twist he let Ansh's sword cut only air.
Ansh skidded to a stop, panting. "He's like a ghost!"
Daav spat a spark in protest. It fizzled.
Rajyugas inclined his head a fraction. "Again."
They tried again, and again. Ashwini thickened her roots; Vijay shaped a whip of water from the mist. Daav zipped through the branches, raining sparks like tiny stars.
For a heartbeat they almost succeeded. The roots caught Rajyugas's ankle; the water lashed his sleeve.
Ansh lunged— —but Rajyugas slid free, the flat of his sword sheath tapping Ansh gently on the forehead.
"Closer," he said.
Ansh rubbed his brow. "Next time for sure!"
They rested on a log, breathing hard.
"He's too fast," Vijay admitted.
"No one's too fast," Ansh insisted, though sweat streaked his face. "We just need a better trick."
Daav hopped from branch to branch, chirping urgently.
Ansh listened, eyes widening. "That's… brilliant! Daav, you're a genius!"
Ashwini sighed. "If this is another one of your 'jump on his head' ideas—"
"Better," Ansh said. "Follow me."
Ashwini sent a thick snarl of vines forward, obvious and loud. Vijay raised a noisy wall of swirling air. Rajyugas stepped neatly aside, cloak snapping.
Then Daav shot upward, sudden as lightning, bursting a brilliant flash of flame that blinded the path.
In that heartbeat Ansh darted not at the man but at a massive moss-covered log leaning against a slope. He wedged his wooden sword beneath and heaved with all his might.
The log tipped—slow at first, then faster—rolling straight toward Rajyugas.
The Vice Principal turned just as the log brushed his sleeve. The tiniest contact, but enough.
Ansh leapt from the smoke and tapped his blade squarely to Rajyugas's shoulder.
Thock.
The jungle went silent.
"I… I did it?" Ansh gasped.
Daav wheeled above them in a ring of triumphant sparks.
Rajyugas looked down at the boy, then at the fiery bird, then at the two dusty conspirators. Slowly he gave a single, solemn nod.
"The strike is true," he said.
Ashwini let out the breath she'd been holding, a proud smile flickering across her face. Vijay slumped against a root, half-grinning despite himself.
Ansh planted the wooden sword on his shoulder like a conquering hero. "Ha! Trade complete. Now you have to tell us!"
Rajyugas' lips curved faintly—almost a smile. "Very well. We travel to the Old Sentry Path. Beyond it lies a place where you will learn more than drills or lessons. There you will face what remains of the ancient guardians."
Vijay's eyes widened. "Guardians?"
Ashwini whispered, "So that's why you've made us train so hard."
"Remember," Rajyugas said, his voice returning to cool stone, "today you struck me only because you worked as one. Keep that."
Ansh puffed out his chest. "Teamwork! And because I'm amazing."
Daav landed on his head like a fiery crown, chirping proudly.
Rajyugas turned, already walking again. "Come," he said. "The day grows short."
The three children hurried after him—Ansh still grinning despite the moss in his hair—while the jungle swallowed their laughter and the promise of mysteries ahead.