Chapter 14

With a swift flick of his wrist, Karthikeya parried the first strike, the clash echoing through the silent tension of the street. His opponents, emboldened by their numbers, lunged forward with a synchronized fury, their blades slicing through the air in a frenzy of aggression. Karthikeya, undaunted, danced between their strikes with fluid grace, his every movement a calculated dance of death and defense.

As the skirmish intensified, the narrow space seemed to shrink, confining the combatants in a whirlwind of steel and sweat. Karthikeya's sword whistled through the air, striking with precision as he fended off the relentless barrage of attacks. Blood began to stain the cobbled ground, mingling with the dust kicked up by their frantic footwork.

With a seamless sidestep, Karthikeya's blade found its mark, impaling one of his adversaries through the heart. Unfazed by the sight of death, he swiftly disarmed another assailant, wrenching the sword from his grasp. With a powerful thrust of his leg, he dispatched the lifeless body aside, a mere obstacle in the relentless dance of combat.

Retreating a step, Karthikeya deftly evaded an incoming slash, his gaze fixed upon the remaining adversaries with unwavering focus. Gripping both swords now, he assumed a defensive stance, the blades gleaming in the waning light. His muscles tensed, poised to meet the onslaught, as a charged silence settled over the battlefield, broken only by the tense breaths of the combatants and the distant murmurs of the onlookers.

His adversaries, fueled by desperation and a desire to impress their unseen masters, closed in further, their blades seeking to find any chink in Karthikeya's formidable defense. But he remained elusive, his senses heightened, anticipating their every move with a calm, yet ferocious determination. With each swing of his blade, he carved a path through their ranks, dispatching his foes with calculated strikes that left no room for mercy.

The onlookers, a mix of horrified gasps and muted cheers, bore witness to the spectacle of skill and violence unfolding before them. Some covered their eyes, unable to bear the brutal display, while others leaned in closer, captivated by the raw intensity of the confrontation.

Despite the odds stacked against him, Karthikeya's unwavering focus and honed expertise began to turn the tide. One by one, his adversaries fell to the ground, their weapons clattering to the pavement as the street became littered with the remnants of the fierce battle. The final opponent, realizing the futility of his efforts, hesitated for a moment, but before he can react Karthikeya came to him and with a decisive strike rendered him immobile, collapsing to join the fallen.

 Karthikeya stood amidst the fallen, his swords still dripping with the blood of his vanquished foes. The onlookers watched in stunned silence, their cheers replaced by a mixture of awe and fear. Karthikeya's victory was undeniable, a testament to his unwavering skill.

As the dust settled and the echoes of battle faded, Karthikeya surveyed the scene, his gaze falling upon the lifeless forms of those he had slain. A pang of regret pierced his heart, for he had never sought violence. But he knew that this battle wasn't chosen by him, a life where survival often meant taking another's life.

With a heavy heart, Karthikeya sheathed his swords and turned to face the onlookers. Their eyes met his, and he saw in them a mixture of admiration and fear. He knew that this was the price of his newfound power, a power that would forever mark him as a warrior, a slayer of men.

But Karthikeya also knew that he had a duty, a responsibility that came with his identity good. He would not become a monster, driven by bloodlust and the need to kill. He would use his strength to protect the innocent, to fight for what was right, even if it meant more bloodshed.

With a newfound resolve, Karthikeya raised his head and looked towards the horizon. The path ahead was uncertain, but he would face it with courage and determination. He was Karthikeya, the warrior, and he would not falter.

Karthikeya's senses were still in a heightened state, and he quickly noticed the approaching guards. He had no doubt that these were the ones who had been patrolling nearby and had come after hearing the commotion of the battle. His gaze shifted to the three guards who had prevented those gaurds who came before, from interfering, a hint of satisfaction passing through his eyes.

With a voice that carried the authority of a superior, Karthikeya issued his instructions, his tone firm and unwavering. "Clean this place," he commanded, gesturing towards the fallen adversaries. "Give them a proper burial. They may have been my enemies, but they deserve respect in death."

His gaze then fell upon the captured assailant, the man he had subdued with the blunt side of his sword. "Take this one to the interrogation chambers," he ordered, his voice hardening. "Find out who is behind them, who sent them to attack me. I want answers."

As he spoke, Karthikeya wiped away the blood that stained his face and armor, using a cloth provided by one of the guards. His movements were efficient and practiced, the marks of a man accustomed to violence as Karthikeya had fought in two major war one against the Pandya and the other being Chera 

Despite the chaos that had just unfolded, Karthikeya's composure remained unshaken. He stood amidst the aftermath of the battle, a figure of both power and control. The guards, still reeling from the spectacle they had witnessed, watched him with a mixture of awe and apprehension.

Karthikeya's eyes scanned the horizon, his gaze searching for any sign of his men who had pursued his assassin. 

He stood thier waiting knowing full well that the true danger still lurked in the shadows, these are just lackies send to death to test him and he would not rest until he had brought them to light.

•••

While Karthikeya was battling against the other assalents , Ragu, the failed assassin, found himself rushing for his life as he fled through the labyrinthine alleys of Anuradhapuram.

 Ragu's heart pounded like a drum against his ribs as he darted through the maze of Anuradhapuram's alleys, Karthikeya's relentless guards close behind. The narrow, dimly lit streets and the teeming crowd seemed to close in on him, threatening to consume him in their labyrinth.

Gasping for breath, he weaved past ancient stone structures and intricately carved pillars, the city's rich history a blur in his desperate flight. Flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows on the weathered walls, amplifying the tension of the chase.

His eyes darted frantically, scanning for a possible escape route, but the alleyways offered no sanctuary. He skidded around a corner, nearly losing his footing on the uneven cobblestones. Catching himself with a desperate lunge, he pressed on, fueled by the distant roar of his pursuers.