Vyasa hesitated only for a moment before lunging forward again, his fists blazing with heat as they collided against Sampati's defenses. Sparks scattered in the air like meteors streaking across the night sky. But this time, the god of eagles did not remain passive. With a sharp beat of his wings, Sampati rose above his army, drawing the battle away from his kin. His golden eyes narrowed, their sharp light fixed solely on Vyasa.
Vyasa did not relent. Sword already drawn, he pursued, his figure cutting through the wind like a comet.
The air thickened with killing intent as the two warriors created distance from the barrier that guarded the eagle clan. And then—Sampati began to transform.
His body expanded, feathers bursting forth with radiant light, each one shimmering with divine power. The mountain trembled beneath the transformation. In mere heartbeats, a colossal eagle stood in his place, wings spanning the length of a battlefield, feathers gleaming like polished bronze. His aura surged outward, crushing trees, splitting stone, and forcing even the bravest beasts to crawl low upon the earth.
Meanwhile, Vyasa's blade blazed hotter, until the very air seemed to ignite. The forest around them wilted; trees shriveled into ash. Animals fled in droves, screeches echoing as flames consumed their paths. Yet even amidst this inferno, Om—watching from the mouth of a cavern—felt nothing but a faint warmth against his skin.
His hair did not singe. His breath did not waver.
Om's eyes widened in disbelief. Why…? The fire that scorches the eagles cannot even touch me.
Before he could unravel the mystery, his gaze was drawn back to the battlefield.
The sky itself seemed to split.
Sampati, now a fifty-meter-long eagle clad in celestial armor and crowned with a diadem of gold, radiated majesty that rivaled the fury of Vyasa. Their auras clashed, invisible storms rippling outward. Countless animals fell prostrate, pinned to the ground as if gravity itself had multiplied tenfold.
Sampati raised his head and let loose a deafening cry, his beak glowing with divine force. An invisible pressure surged forth, striking Vyasa and shoving him back through the air.
Vyasa gritted his teeth, flames wreathing his body. He steadied his stance in midair, then roared back, swinging his blazing sword. The weapon hissed as it met the wind, scorching the very clouds above.
Sampati countered with a sweep of his wings. Thousands of feathers, each sharper than steel and charged with divine energy, shot forth like arrows.
Vyasa lifted his sword, intercepting the barrage. Feathers clanged against the blade, ringing like a thousand war drums. For a moment, the assault forced him back, his footing faltering in the air. But with a fierce cry, he steadied himself again and charged forward, slashing flames toward the eagle god.
Fire and feather collided, lighting the heavens in a storm of sparks and embers.
The shockwaves spread down to the mountain below, where the barrier around the eagle clan flickered dangerously. Cracks rippled across its surface, threatening to collapse. Through those gaps, beasts poured in—some ordinary mortals, others monstrous beings of the Essence Stage, their power shaking the earth.
Om's eyes hardened. He thought of his friends, still imprisoned deeper inside the caves. He turned to rush inward—only for his path to be blocked.
Something massive landed at the cave's mouth. Dust surged upward as talons gouged into the stone.
A lion.
But not an ordinary lion.
Its mane shimmered with fire, and from its back sprouted wings wide and leathery, tipped with flames. Its golden eyes locked onto Om like a predator upon prey. The corners of its maw curled upward, almost as if it were grinning.
Then—it charged.
The winged lion bounded forward with unnatural grace, claws extended. The air split under the force of its strike. Om ducked low at the last possible instant, sliding beneath the beast's belly. Its claws raked stone where he had stood an instant before, sparks scattering across the cave floor.
Om scrambled deeper into the tunnels.
The lion snarled, eyes gleaming with hunger. With a mighty beat of its wings, it pursued, gliding effortlessly through the corridors. Its roars shook loose dust from the ceiling as its claws scraped against the stone walls.
Om's chest tightened. Essence Stage… The sheer killing intent radiating from the beast was suffocating. If not for the winding turns of the cavern, it would have already overtaken him.
Ahead, he spotted a familiar chamber—the one where his friends were held.
He burst through the doorway, heart hammering. His comrades lay scattered across the floor. They were conscious, eyes open, but their limbs hung limp, weighed down by invisible shackles of spiritual power.
The only one who could stir even slightly was Ghato. Straining to lift his head, he croaked, "Wh… what… happened…?"
Om rushed to where his weapon had been placed and snatched it up. His fingers curled tightly around the hilt, the steel comfortingly solid in his grasp.
Before he could answer, a roar echoed through the corridors, so loud it rattled their bones.
Om's jaw clenched. "There's a lion. With wings. And it's after me."
Ghato's eyes widened with disbelief. "Impossible… those beasts went extinct in the Treta Yuga! How—how are they still alive?"
But there was no time for answers.
"Listen," Ghato rasped, his voice urgent. "That lion has no weakness. Its claws are as hard as diamond—don't ever clash them directly. Its body is like steel. Don't fight it head on! And once it decides you're prey, it will never stop chasing you. If you must fight…" His voice dropped to a grave whisper. "…aim for the neck. That's the only place where you can kill it quickly."
Om gave a sharp nod. "Thanks for the warning." He dashed back into the corridor.
The lion was waiting. Blood dripped from its claws, and its maw was stained crimson. Corpses of eaglefolk lay scattered in its wake. Om's stomach twisted at the sight, bile rising in his throat.
The beast growled, and the hunt resumed.
Om sprinted through the twisting labyrinth, every muscle straining. He could hear the beast's claws scraping stone behind him, hear its wings snapping open as it surged forward. He needed space. He needed ground where he could fight.
A plan began to form.
The lion roared, flames erupting from its throat. Om glanced back—and his eyes widened. The beast was breathing fire. An ocean of crimson flame surged toward him, the heat blistering even before it touched his skin.
His legs blurred. He threw everything into speed, weaving through the corridors, the fire licking at his heels.
At last, light flared ahead. A vast chamber opened before him, larger than even the throne hall he had seen before. Its walls were lined with ancient weapons, and the ground was covered in sand.
A training arena.
Perfect.
Om gritted his teeth. He swung his sword with both hands, channeling his energy into the strike. The blade hummed with power, glowing brighter as runes flickered along its edge. He slashed at the walls, stone yielding under the strike as though it were paper.
The cavern shook.
Massive boulders cracked loose from the ceiling. The corridor began to collapse.
The lion's eyes widened. It understood instantly—the boy was trying to bury it alive.
It surged forward, abandoning its flames. Its wings snapped wide, propelling it with desperate speed.
But Om was faster.
He dove into the chamber just as the rocks came crashing down.
The lion roared as it was buried beneath an avalanche of stone. Its wings flailed, claws slashing at the falling debris. For a moment, it looked as if it would break free. But the mountain's fury did not relent. More and more boulders crashed down, crushing it further. At last, an immense slab of stone slammed down upon its back, pinning it.
Its final roar echoed through the chamber, a sound of rage and defiance that shook the air—before silence fell.
Om stood panting, sword trembling in his hand. Sweat dripped down his face, yet his body bore not a single scratch.
He exhaled slowly, his gaze hardening. This is only the beginning.
Far above, the battle between Vyasa and Sampati still raged, their powers shaking the heavens themselves.
And Om knew his fight was far from over.