The moment Virat charged, Surya’s mind focused entirely on the fight.
His body was no longer just reacting—it was anticipating.
The clang of metal rang through the arena as their swords met again. But this time, Surya wasn’t being pushed back. He wasn’t just surviving.
He was fighting.
The Duel Shifts
Virat’s eyes gleamed with something new—excitement.
Until now, he had treated this duel as a formality. A demonstration. A way to prove that the once-great Crown Prince of Suryavarta had lost his strength.
But now?
Now, he was facing a true opponent.
Surya blocked an overhead strike and twisted, stepping into Virat’s guard with practiced precision. His movements felt sharper, natural. His instincts—enhanced by Battle Instinct—allowed him to see the gaps in Virat’s defence that he wouldn’t have noticed before.
A surge of confidence ran through him.
"I can do this."
Virat suddenly spun low, sweeping at Surya’s legs.
For a brief second, his body hesitated.
And that was enough.
Pain exploded through his ribs as Virat’s kick connected, sending Surya flying backward.
He skidded across the sand, coughing as dust filled his lungs.
His arms burned from exhaustion. His breath came in ragged gulps.
And yet—he grinned.
Because he understood something now.
He wasn’t outmatched. Not entirely.
Virat was better trained, more experienced. But with his new abilities, Surya could keep up.
No, more than that—
He could win.
Testing His Power
Surya’s fingers tightened around his sword.
"I used a mantra just now. Agni Raksha."
It was only for an instant, but the flames had been real.
That meant he could do it again.
The only question was how.
Virat was already moving again. He aimed a sharp strike at Surya’s left side—but this time, Surya saw it.
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He dodged.
Then, without thinking, he reached deep inside himself—toward the strange, burning energy that had stirred before.
His free hand moved on its own.
"Vayu Sanchalan."
The words left his lips, almost instinctively.
And suddenly—the wind roared.
A burst of air rippled outward, pushing Virat back just slightly. Not enough to knock him down, but enough to make him pause.
The watching crowd gasped.
Surya’s own heartbeat thundered in his ears.
"That... actually worked."
It wasn’t strong. Not yet. But it was proof.
He could use mantras.
He could wield the power of the Rishis.
The Moment of Realization
Virat didn’t hesitate. He adjusted his stance and charged again.
But now, Surya felt something new.
He wasn’t afraid anymore.
Every movement, every breath—it all felt sharper. His battle instincts were guiding him, his body moving with a level of precision that should have taken years to develop.
It wasn’t perfect.
He still lacked the polished technique of a seasoned warrior.
But that didn’t matter.
Because for the first time since this fight started—he was in control.
Virat swung his sword in a powerful downward arc.
Surya stepped into the strike instead of away from it.
Their blades clashed—and this time, Surya didn’t budge.
Watching Eyes
From the royal balcony, Maharaja Veerajit watched in silence.
His expression remained unreadable, but a faint glint of interest flickered in his eyes.
Beside him, Queen Maitreyi’s hands were clasped tightly in her lap.
And standing near the edge of the balcony, arms crossed, was Senapati Rudra.
The general’s gaze remained locked on the battle, his sharp eyes analysing every movement.
When Surya had first entered the arena, Rudra had been certain of the outcome.
The prince would struggle. He would fight. But ultimately, he would lose.
That was how it was supposed to be.
Yet now...
The young prince was fighting like a warrior.
Rudra’s grip on his arms tightened slightly.
"What are you hiding, boy?"
The Final Clash
The duel had been going on longer than anyone expected.
Surya and Virat circled each other, their breathing laboured.
Virat’s expression was no longer one of amusement. He was taking this seriously now.
Surya, too, was pushing himself past his limits.
His arms ached. His body screamed for rest.
But he could feel it.
That fire inside him—it was growing.
"One last attack."
Virat saw the shift in his stance and responded immediately, rushing forward.
Their blades met one last time—
And everything exploded into motion.
Surya twisted, stepping aside at the last second. His sword cut through the air—aiming not for Virat’s body, but his weapon.
A precise strike.
A perfect counter.
Virat’s sword was knocked from his grip.
It clattered to the ground.
The entire arena went silent.
Virat stood frozen for a moment, staring at his empty hands.
Then, slowly—he smiled.
"I yield," he said, voice carrying across the stunned arena.
The Prince Stands Victorious
Surya’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.
The weight of what had just happened settled over him.
He had won.
He had actually won.
The silence stretched on for a moment longer—then, murmurs rippled through the crowd.
A mixture of shock, curiosity, and—for some—respect.
Then—the deep voice of the Maharaja rang out.
"Well fought."
Surya turned to face his father, his heart pounding.
Maharaja Veerajit studied him, his gaze heavy with meaning.
Then, he simply nodded.
The duel was over.
The Crown Prince had proved himself.
But as Surya stood there, sword still clenched in his hands, he knew this was only the beginning.
He had won a single battle.
But to truly master his abilities—to understand the power of his new skills...
He still had a long way to go.
Senapati Rudra’s Decision
The crowd had begun to disperse, the nobles and warriors leaving the arena with murmured discussions.
But Senapati Rudra remained still.
His sharp eyes remained locked onto the young prince.
There was no denying it—the boy had changed.
He fought differently. His movements were no longer just the remnants of his past training.
Something had awakened inside him.
Something unnatural.
Rudra’s expression darkened.
This was not the prince he had trained.
Something was different.
And he would find out what.
