General Veda looked at Indra on the training field. He realized that killing the boy now would be a waste. Indra was the strongest warrior in the empire, and the war with Gamma and Theta was still a threat. Veda also knew that in a fair fight, Indra might be strong enough to kill him.
"I will use him as my sword," Veda thought. "And when the blade is dull, I will break it."
The General moved quickly. He officially announced that Indra was the new King of Ohm. The people cheered, thinking their savior was finally on the throne.
But behind the scenes, the palace changed. Veda did not appoint wise men or scholars to the ministry. Instead, he filled every seat with his own men—the Warrior Society. These were battle-hardened soldiers who cared nothing for laws or tradition. They were strong, brutal, and owed their lives to Veda.
Indra sat on the throne, but he was surrounded by wolves. These new ministers bowed to him, but their eyes stayed on General Veda. They were ready to pull their daggers and strike the moment Veda gave the signal.
Indra sat perfectly still. He wore the crown, but he said nothing. He showed no emotion as he looked at the men who were planning to kill him.
While Indra focused on the art of killing, General Veda took control of everything else. He ruled like a dictator. He seized land from the poor to build massive military outposts. He raised taxes until the people could barely eat, funneling every coin into bronze armor and better steel. He banned music and festivals, replacing them with mandatory drill practice for every able-bodied man.
Under Veda, the economy became a machine designed only for war.
Indra did not care about the politics or the suffering of the people. He did not make laws. He was a one-man army. He spent his days in a specialized circular pit, training with the Urumi (a whip-like flexible blade), the heavy mace, and the Vajra-mushti (knuckle-dusters).
He became obsessed with the Weeling Province of the Gamma Empire. It was their crown jewel—protected by a million soldiers and massive stone walls. Anyone else would be delusional to think they could take it alone, but Indra was different.
To test his limit, Indra ordered Veda to send him twenty-one of the elite Warrior Society members at once.
"Use real blades," Indra commanded. His voice was flat, devoid of any fear.
The men surrounded him in the palace courtyard. They were the best Veda had, and they were loyal only to the General. They moved in all at once, a storm of spears and curved swords.
Indra didn't move until the first spear-tip was an inch from his throat.
The First Ten: In a blur of motion, Indra used a long-handled Gada (mace). He didn't just parry; he shattered their guard. He moved like water, stepping into the gaps of their formation. Within seconds, ten men were on the ground with broken ribs and shattered knees.
The Chaos: The remaining eleven grew desperate. They attacked from all angles. Indra dropped the mace and drew two Katar (punching daggers).
The Finish: He spun, his body a whirlwind of precision. He didn't even look at them. He felt the air move. He disarmed the leaders, sliced the tendons of the followers, and stood in the center of the circle.
All twenty-one men lay defeated. Indra wasn't even breathing hard. He looked at his hands, disappointed.
"Not enough," he muttered. "The Weeling Province has a million. I need to be faster."
Veda watched from the balcony, his jaw tight. He realized that as long as Indra was focused on training, the "Revenant" wouldn't notice the knife Veda was holding behind his back.