Chapter 189
"How could it be them?"
While Progenitor Daksha was still discussing his methods of increasing revenue and reducing expenditure, a loud horn sounded in the distance.
For a moment, only the sound of horns echoed across the wilderness. The two immortals stared at each other, only able to discern what the other wanted to say from the other's lip movements and gestures.
As the horns sounded, five-colored banners began to appear on the horizon.
Even the Progenitor Daksha couldn't help but feel his mouth go dry, and his hands gripping his knees tightened even more.
Kashyapa Immortal stared wide-eyed, his breathing rapid; he felt his heart was about to leap out of his chest.
—Are these the Aryans?
Is this the nomadic people who came from the west and conquered all the lands?
Where will their Celestial Path lead, and when will it end? Will the entire Bharata be able to satisfy their thirst?
But then a loud singing voice suddenly came from the horizon.
"Let us open the cup and drink heartily, the finest Soma wine; at my morning sacrifice, you will enjoy your breakfast."
"The spirit of heroes finds joy in killing the enemy; with devout hearts, we sing war songs to praise your achievements."
"The Exile, Indra!"
"Wielding the vajra, the supreme kingship. Take me out of this desolate place from the sea of sand."
"Those born of the sun are the first hunters. Incomparable bravery and might are innate!"
"Praise be to Indra, the king of gods the Exile. Shout hymns to him who displays his unparalleled power."
It was a white banner, painted with symbols of lightning and a black crown. Without a doubt, it represented the supreme deity of the Aryans, the god-king named Indra.
But what else?
The Progenitor Daksha stood up and stared intently at the horizon.
"?——"
The resounding sound of conch shells drowned out the horn calls, and blue flames rose from the horizon, coming from all directions like the tide.
The dust and gravel on the ground rose to the surface in an unusual way, and everything that could be called a "weapon" was diminished—iron turned into copper, and copper turned into stone.
Moreover, the scope of this phenomenon is expanding. When Progenitor Daksha stood there for a moment, he found that the gold bracelet on his wrist had become rough, and the lotus pattern originally carved on it had become a blurry mess. The silver water jugs carried by the immortals had also become perfectly round.
When the Kashyapa Immortal looked over, he saw that the lid and spout of the kettle in his hand were stuck together, just like a piece of ore that had never been mined.
"It's not just weapons, even the concepts of civilization and era are 'degenerating'..." This thought arose in the mind of the Kashyapa Immortal.
Thump thump thump thump thump!
The rapid sound of hand-cranked drums came from under the blue banner.
Accompanying the sound of the hand-cranked drum was a chorus of voices that seemed to echo from all around.
"Kullong!"
"?——"
"Fire of Calamity".
"?——"
"Holy and Great Time, My Lord, the True God. All living beings beneath your feet are filled with ecstatic joy and intoxication."
"Mahakala, the supreme inner soul, the lord of fear, all those in distress, come and dispel them with your bare hands—"
"Your name may change a thousand times, but your authority remains constant. O calamity fire! With palms joined, we praise and chant your name, and all people worship the Wrathful Lord."
"?——"
The sounds of conch shells, horns, hand-cranked drums, and swords striking shields mingled together.
The Aryans had no concept of military formations; they simply circled around the four banners like wild beasts following a alpha wolf.
At the forefront of the beasts was a tall man with pale skin, sitting atop azure flames.
He had no mount, but simply sat cross-legged in the blue flames of the void.
Ragged white strips of cloth hung from his muscular arms, and broken metal swirled behind his head, forming a broken wheel.
Sharp, black, curved hairs emerged from his pale, long hair, like a crescent moon.
"Azure Wrath, Supreme Being, Lord of Three Eyes, Maha Maha!"
"The one who breaks through the three cities is the fire of the end of the calamity, our king, Sattva Sattva!"
"Homage to the one who bestows blessings, the great knight-errant; and to the one chosen by Narayana, the Lord Kullong."
Is this man the Wrathful Lord who led the Aryans from the west and destroyed three great city-states?
Kashyapa was almost instantly filled with intense relief. He was glad that Daksha's decision was so wise! Because anyone who made an enemy of such a being would only be ruthlessly destroyed.
He immediately clasped his hands together, knelt down, and led the priests and servants in chanting the prayers that had been prepared beforehand, praising the Wrathful Lord.
"Homage to the Three-Eyed Lord, who brings life and destroys all things, like picking fruit from a vine, and granting me eternal life from death."
Bang bang bang bang!
The priests shook their hand drums, producing rapid and rhythmic sounds.
Startled and flustered, Daksha hurried to the float, pulled back the curtain, and grabbed Kama's arm, which was painted with red varnish.
"Kama! Kama! Kama! Do you see the Venerable One seated amidst the blue flames? He is the one you are to marry! Go, go and welcome your beloved, become one with him... I, the Progenitor Daksha, will bless your marriage!"
He offered his blessings, but his actions were brutal and tyrannical.
Daksha pushed her towards the center of the former battlefield, and the world around Kama seemed to turn upside down.
Kama staggered through the blood-soaked wilderness; she looked nothing like a bride now.
The gauze on her body was quickly stained with blood and mud, as were her feet. She forced herself to move forward with her meager courage, a glimmer of hope still lingering in her heart.
Now that I have safely arrived here, does that mean my inevitable death will not come immediately?
If that's the case, perhaps there's something I can still do before my short life ends.
Kama comforted herself as she struggled across the desolate battlefield, trembling before the Aryans.
Would these people really slaughter innocent civilians? Would they really eat prisoners of war and civilians on the battlefield? Are they really the embodiment of evil as legend suggests?
But no one answered Kama's question; the Aryans simply sang hymns around the four banners.
No one stopped her, and Kama thus came to the vicinity of the Wrathful Lord.
Although it's described as nearby, it's actually more than ten meters away.
The blazing blue flames burned on the ground and in the void, blocking all of Kama's paths.
"I am Kamadiya, the woman who has come to serve you." As she said these words, Kama felt as if she were being dissected. "Please let me in and stay by your side."
She pleaded desperately, but Qinghuo remained unmoved.
The Aryans around her were slowly approaching.
These almost beastly people were able to maintain their restraint while Kama maintained the status of "marriage," because they were prey of the Wrathful Lord.
But now, the Wrathful Lord has not taken its prey...
Two Aryans had already grabbed Kama's sash, and the rest were rapidly closing in.
Kama struggled desperately, but the two Aryans laughed and increased the speed of their movements.
In an instant, the bride's outermost veil was removed.
Just as the two Aryans were about to take things a step further, the Wrathful Lord, seated atop the blue flames, suddenly opened his eyes.
Those were pure white eyes, without pupils.
"No--"
"Rao—"
A trident strung them together horizontally. With each word they uttered, copious amounts of blood gushed from their bodies and mouths, quickly turning them into two corpses.
The Wrathful Lord raised the trident and remained seated in the blue fire lotus.
Kama raised his hands in prayer, about to speak, when he saw those pure white eyes looking at him.
She forced a humble smile.
When Kama squeezed out his prayer from his throat, what came out was not a sound, but a blue flame.
She was set ablaze by the flames of the Wrathful Lord.
263 Dakshabi
Ah, this is fire.
Kama opened her eyes blankly, her consciousness seemingly being stretched out during the process, with everything unfolding before her eyes.
She could clearly feel how everything about her was being scorched by the high temperature, destroyed by some higher-dimensional force, and disintegrated by this force.
First the limbs, then the torso, and finally the head.
Her thin gauze dress turned fiery red, followed by her deep purple hair, and finally her dark red eyes.
The courage that had sustained Kama was finally destroyed in the flames, and regret was written on her painful and withered face—how many people could not feel regret at this moment?
In the distance, the Progenitor Daksha stared intently at her. Kama "saw" a tense yet joyful expression on Daksha's face.
For Daksha, the more cruelly Kama was tortured and the more tragically he was burned in the fire, the more fully the wrath of the Wrathful Lord was vented.
Otherwise, it would be completely impossible for the Wrathful Lord, who is purely the Beast Lord and the innocent, to communicate.
Kama trembled and looked around blankly, but her heart gradually calmed down.
To end one's lowly life like this seems like a good outcome.
Her body fell backward, feeling empty and lost, an indescribable sense of anguish and bewilderment swirling around her, along with a tinge of pity churning in her throat.
Pity? Whom could she pity? Could she pity herself? Or could she pity the hundreds and thousands of warriors who, like herself, were trampled into the mud? Could she pity the Mohenjo-daro civilians who were unaware that they had been sold for a good price?
She let out a sigh of anger and resentment from her now-vanished body.
Why should it be me?
A soft voice, tinged with a hint of laughter, resonated deep within Kama's soul.
"Nothing in this world is a given. It is wrong to passively accept the injustices of the world. I hope that in the future, more people will be able to say 'Why should I?'"
"Kamadiya, now ask me for help."
Kama's pained voice gradually turned into a gentle response.
"Bodhi... Patriarch."
Beyond the flames, the Wrathful Lord suddenly lowered its head, and its pure white eyes snapped open.
In the distance, Progenitor Daksha almost jumped up from the ground.
"Patriarch Bodhi? No matter who you are, you're deliberately trying to ruin my plans. I'll make you wish you were dead..."
Dasha stared sinisterly at the clouds that were gradually appearing in the sky. From the gaps in the clouds, it seemed that a strange scene was about to emerge.
He saw that within the blazing blue flames, a verdant green was gradually emerging.
The colors of these two flames should have been very similar, but anyone could clearly tell that they were two completely different flames.
The former is a cold, bluish-gray that foreshadows destruction; the latter is a lofty, bluish-green that symbolizes life and infinity.
The bluish-green flames spiraled out from between Kama's eyebrows, engulfing her body in an instant.
The clouds above the center of the battlefield began to rotate counterclockwise, and the blue flames were carried upward by the clouds.
The sound of rushing water came from within the clouds.
After the sound of water, there was a vast expanse of mist.
Beyond the fog, there are landscapes unlike any other in Bharata.
In the midst of the mountains and rivers, there is a stone tablet shrouded in mist, its details obscured.
Kama is flying into the clouds.