In this Milky Way, amidst millions of stars and thousands of solar systems, there existed a planet called Ajura, which shimmered with a blue glow in the sunlight. The people of this land did not possess magic, but they were blessed with extraordinary powers. With these powers, they ruled over one another, enforced their laws, and were even worshiped as gods.
Far away, in a small kingdom named Shauryagarh, surrounded by towering mountains and adorned with natural beauty, lived King Ambar. Restlessly, he paced back and forth in the balcony outside one of the palace chambers, his anxious eyes fixed on the closed door. Suddenly, the cry of a newborn echoed through the room. Moments later, a maid stepped out from behind the door.
Seeing her, King Ambar rushed forward and asked quickly,
"Tell me, maid, what is the good news?"
The maid, already trembling with fear, hesitated for a moment and then replied,
"Maharaj! A son has been born."
Hearing this, King Ambar nodded with satisfaction and rewarded the maid who stood before him with her head bowed. But soon, his eyes noticed the sorrowful expression on her face. She seemed to want to speak but was afraid. The king urged her to say what troubled her.
With a heavy and broken voice, the maid spoke,
"Maharaj… the queen, she is no more. During childbirth, Rani Indumati has passed away."
The joy of fatherhood drained instantly from Ambar's heart. The earth beneath his feet slipped away, and his legs faltered. It was a blow he had never expected. At once, the prime minister, standing nearby, rushed to support the staggering king and said,
"Compose yourself, Maharaj. We grieve for the queen's death, but who can stop the departed from leaving?"
But the king could not think or hear. In anguish, he ran into the chamber. What he saw filled his eyes with tears.
There lay Rani Indumati, lifeless on the bed, surrounded by maids with their heads bowed. Slowly, King Ambar walked toward her. Unable to hold back his grief, he embraced her lifeless body against his chest and wept bitterly.
"Indumati! How could you leave me alone like this? How will I live without you?" Tears streamed down his face as he clung to her body for a long time.
The prime minister came forward and spoke gently,
"Control yourself, Maharaj. I too feel your pain."
But Ambar cried out in despair,
"Raktab! The one I loved most has left me forever. She was my life, and now she is gone."
The prime minister tried to console him, saying,
"Maharaj, though the queen has departed, she has left behind a lion for this kingdom."
Ambar's tearful eyes turned toward his newborn son. Looking at the child's innocent face, a faint smile of compassion lit his sorrowful face.
Outside the palace, a crowd had begun to gather. Hearing their calls, King Ambar came out with his son in his arms and stood before his people. The sight of their king made the people bow their heads in respect.
In a heavy voice, Ambar addressed them,
"My beloved subjects, I bring to you grievous news. Today, your Rajmata is no longer with us."
It felt as though his heart had stopped beating forever. His eyes brimmed with tears, but as a king, he tried to restrain his sorrow.
When the people heard his words, a wave of grief swept over the crowd. To them, their queen was like a mother, and her loss was unbearable. Soon, the people joined together, praying for the peace of her soul, tears filling their eyes.
After some time, Ambar told his people about the birth of the prince. At this, sorrowful faces found a moment of joy. Lifting his son in his arms, he declared,
"From this day forward, his name shall be Nivyansh Maurya."
The people placed their hands on their chests, bowed their heads, and greeted their future king with reverence. Ambar then took his son back inside the palace. The kingdom rejoiced at the prince's birth but mourned the queen's death deeply.
Months passed, but King Ambar could not recover from Indumati's death. Distraught, he neglected the kingdom's affairs. Taking advantage, a neighboring king turned traitorous ministers to his side and launched an attack. Ambar, drowning in grief, was unprepared.
By the time news reached him, it was too late. Thousands of soldiers and civilians lay dead, entire regions were destroyed, homes set aflame, and the land stained with rivers of blood. Enemy soldiers marched ruthlessly toward the palace.
Soon, thousands of Shauryagarh's soldiers assembled in formation outside the palace. Then, King Ambar emerged, clad in a shining silver armor. Standing before his troops, he raised his voice,
"Great warriors of Shauryagarh! The time has come. The enemy has dared to cast its evil eye upon our land. Will you allow them to destroy our kingdom?"
"No! No!" the soldiers roared. Their hearts burned with the resolve to die for their motherland.
Ambar's voice thundered,
"Then let this be the moment! If you must lay down your lives today, count yourselves blessed, for the death of a warrior is most glorious on the battlefield. Such an honor is not written in everyone's fate."
At his command, the army readied for war.
Soon, from afar, the enemy soldiers appeared in vast numbers, raising clouds of dust as they marched. They halted two hundred yards away. Then, parting their ranks, a man emerged—clad in violet garments, golden armor, and mounted on a mighty mystical horse.
It was Somnath.
He stared at Ambar and said,
"Ambar, after so many years, I am surprised to see you alive."
Ambar mocked him,
"Somnath, not everyone is as weak as you—who strikes from behind instead of facing the chest. And in the end, it was you who fled first, showing your back. I do not strike cowards who run from battle."
Somnath's face flared with rage.
"Ambar, control your tongue, or you will pay dearly!"
Ambar retorted,
"Do you think your hollow threats frighten me? What else can I expect from men like you—cowards skilled only in deceit and treachery?"
Somnath clenched his fists, his fury boiling.
"Ambar! Today you will die by my hands."
"Let's see," Ambar replied coldly.
Somnath sneered,
"Do you think your handful of soldiers can face my vast army? You are gravely mistaken. Whether thirty thousand or three hundred thousand, it doesn't matter. Each one of my soldiers is worth ten of yours."
No further words were exchanged. Both kings signaled their armies to attack.
At once, the battlefield erupted. Swords clashed, spears pierced, powers burst forth in dazzling colors, and deafening cries filled the air. Flames, lightning, and shockwaves engulfed the land.
Soon, piles of bodies covered the ground. Soldiers' cries were drowned in the chaos of weapons and exploding powers. Amidst it all, two figures locked eyes, measuring each other's strength.
Finally, Ambar and Somnath charged, their swords infused with fire and lightning. When they clashed, an immense explosion shook the battlefield. The earth cracked like a spider's web, and energy erupted everywhere. Both kings were hurled back, sliding across the ground.
But neither gave up. With lightning speed, they clashed again, their swords colliding so fast that soldiers could see nothing but sparks. For long, the duel raged, and Ambar's superior skill began to overwhelm Somnath.
Realizing he could not win with weapons alone, Somnath thought, Though I am stronger in powers, if this continues, I will lose.
With a fierce strike, he pushed Ambar back and declared,
"Enough of this child's play. Now begins the real battle!"
So what will happen next?
Will King Ambar triumph in this war?
Or will Somnath bring his end?
And what will become of young Prince Nivyansh?
To know the answers, stay tuned to The Heartless Warrior.