Eklavya stepped through the main gate of the Rudra Clan, the familiar stone archway towering above him like a guardian that had watched over generations of his family. Morning light spilled across the courtyard, casting long shadows across the stone pathways. Behind him, walking with quiet, steady steps, was Anshvi.

  The clan grounds were already alive with movement. Servants hurried with baskets of supplies, junior practitioners swept the training yards. The air carried the scent of dew-soaked leaves mixed with the earthy aroma of the soil.

  As Eklavya walked deeper inside, several clan members looked up from their tasks and their faces brightened instantly.

  “Young Master!”

  “Young Master Eklavya, welcome back!”

  Some bowed respectfully, some raised their hands in greeting, and all of them glanced curiously toward the girl beside him. Their expressions shifted subtly—recognition, surprise, confusion, then understanding. Someone following the young master so closely must hold some significance.

  “Good morning, Miss,” a few of them greeted with polite nods.

  Anshvi responded with a simple smile and a gentle incline of her head, her presence calm yet oddly regal despite her simple travel attire. Compared to the clan’s uniformed members, she looked out of place—but not unwelcome.

  They reached the meeting hall shortly after. The massive doors of dark polished wood stood shut, inlaid with silver symbols representing the Rudra Clan’s lineage. Two guards in blue armour stepped forward quickly, lowering their heads.

  “Young Master, an internal meeting is in progress,” said one of them. “Please wait until it is finished.”

  Eklavya nodded without complaint. He had expected something like this. Trouble had been brewing in the clan for weeks. As they waited, Anshvi nudged his arm. “Look at your mother,” she whispered.

  Eklavya turned sharply as he saw her.

  His mother was crossing the courtyard from the west wing, her long hair tied in a thick braid. She walked fast, as though preoccupied, and didn’t look around at all. A crease of worry marked her forehead.

  “What happened?” Anshvi asked softly.

  Before Eklavya could answer, the doors of the hall opened with a heavy groan. Five elders stepped out one by one. Their robes rustled like wind through old parchment. Eklavya straightened instinctively as he saw the opening door.

  He had been treated kindly by almost all the elders since childhood. He saw five elders but Elder Jai was not among the group.

  Leading them was Elder Jeet, a youthful-faced man with a small beard under his chin despite being well over sixty. He was a five-star grandmaster and had always treated Eklavya as if he were his own nephew.

  When Elder Jeet’s eyes landed on Anshvi, surprise ignited in them. His lips curled into a warm smile. “Isn’t this Anshvi?” he said with genuine delight. “It has been years since I last saw you.”

  Anshvi bowed slightly with joined palms. “Elder Jeet.” Her voice carried a respectful softness that made the elder hum approvingly.

  Next to step forward was the clan’s oldest member—Elder Sahas. His back was slightly bent, but the aura surrounding him was steady, dense, and ancient, like a mountain that had seen countless storms. At more than a hundred years old and a half-step Spirit Warrior, his eyes still shone with clarity.

  “How have you been these days, child?” Elder Sahas asked, leaning slightly on his cane.

  “Good, Elder Sahas,” she replied.

  The remaining elders—Sahastra, Sahu, and Jawla—merely nodded at them. They all seemed preoccupied, with shadows of concern. None spoke a single word as they walked past. Eklavya blinked, mildly offended.

  ‘Wow. They completely forgot about me, once they saw Anshvi.’ He sighed internally. Once the elders had left, he and Anshvi proceeded into the meeting hall.

  The hall was vast, supported by giant pillars carved with images of spirit beasts. At the far end, seated on a raised platform, was Ishant—his father, the Clan Head.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  His posture was rigid, and the tension on his face was unmistakable. Papers and scrolls lay scattered on the table beside him, and a deep frown carved itself between his brows.

  But the moment he saw Eklavya, the lines on his face softened. “Dad! I’m back!” Eklavya greeted him, stepping forward.

  “You sent a message through Elder Jai saying you were returning yesterday,” Ishant said, though his tone carried more relief than reproach. “Yet you arrive a whole day late. Do you know how angry your mother is?”

  Eklavya smiled awkwardly. He knew his mother’s temper too well.

  “That’s what I came to talk about.” His expression sobered. “Something happened in the forest.”

  He then narrated everything—from the ambush, to running into danger, to the disciples of the Falling Leaf Sect, to how he and Anshvi had barely escaped. He explained the reason for their delay, the battles fought, and all.

  “And the person the Falling Leaf Sect is desperate to catch… is me,” he finished quietly.

  Ishant’s hands clenched around the armrest. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. His eyes dropped to the floor, processing the weight of what his son had said. “But how did you do that?” he finally whispered.

  Then his gaze shifted toward Anshvi. He stood abruptly, walked down the stairs, and bowed slightly to her.

  “Thank you,” he said with sincere emotion. “Thank you for protecting this idiot.”

  Anshvi gave a small smile. “I just did what I wanted to. And besides…” She turned toward Eklavya, her eyes softening. “…It’s not like I’m the only one protecting him. He protects me too.” She said those last words intentionally.

  Ishant’s eyebrow shot up. His eyes darted between the two. “Did you—”

  “Stop teasing me!” Eklavya interrupted quickly, cheeks warming in embarrassment. “You know I’m not like that. I want her to stay in the clan because it’s safer. The Falling Leaf Sect will have a harder time finding us if she’s here.”

  Ishant opened his mouth to reply, but before he could—

  A pulse of golden light burst from Eklavya’s body.

  It was faint but unmistakable—the ancient incarnation that symbolized his supreme body surfaced on his skin. Golden markings formed across his arms, chest, neck and all over his body like flowing molten script. They flickered brilliantly, then vanished as quickly as they came.

  His ki churned like an unstable storm. Ishant’s eyes widened. “You’re close to another breakthrough.”

  Anshvi covered her mouth, stunned. Only yesterday he had become a one-star Practitioner…and now he was already nearing two-star?

  “How—” she whispered under her breath.

  But Eklavya wasn’t paying attention to the breakthrough. His gaze had fixed on a painful expression crossing his father’s face.

  “What’s wrong, Dad?” he asked. Ishant exhaled, rubbing his temples.

  “The mine was attacked again yesterday again,” he said in a bitter tone. “But this time it wasn’t just the Marwah Clan. The Light Rain Sect joined them.”

  “That’s not all,” Ishant continued. “I believe the Marwah Clan discovered the truth—that there are medium-grade spirit crystals in the mine. They must have reported it to the Light Rain Sect.”

  The Light Rain Sect wasn’t as vast as the Falling Leaf Sect. Their number of disciples was fewer. But they were backed by the Falling Leaf Sect.

  No force in the kingdom wanted conflict with a sect under such protection. The implications were terrifying.

  The golden markings flashed again—this time violently. His ki spiraled out of control, crashing against his channels like a raging river. His vision slowly blurred.

  The last thing he saw was Anshvi’s face turning pale with alarm.

  “Eklavya!”

  Before his head could hit the floor, Anshvi lunged forward and caught him firmly in her arms, cradling him close as his body fell limp.

  “Eklavya!” Anshvi cried again, her voice trembling as she held him tightly.

  Ishant rushed forward, all the composure of a Clan Head shattering the moment he saw his son collapse. The golden markings on Eklavya’s body flickered once more like dying embers before fading completely, leaving his skin pale and cold to the touch.

  The hall, once filled with tension, was now drowned in fear.

  Without a word, Ishant scooped Eklavya into his arms. His movements were sharp and fueled by instinct rather than authority at that time. “Come,” he said, voice thick with dread. Anshvi followed him closely, her heartbeat was pounding louder than her footsteps.

  They hurried across the hallways, as they passed clan members stepped aside immediately upon seeing the Clan Head’s expression. Ishant didn’t look at any of them. He pushed open the door to Eklavya’s room and gently laid him on the bed, his hands shaking as he tried to keep his breathing steady.

  He sat beside him gently on the bed and checked his pulse, his face turned pale as he felt the weakening rhythm of his son’s breath. Anshvi leaned closer, placing her hand on his chest, sensing the same dreadful rhythm. His life seemed to hang by the thinnest of threads, flickering like a fragile candle in the wind. She checked again, but the result remained the same.

  Ishant’s face went pale, and without another word, he dashed out of the room, calling for help. Anshvi’s hands trembled as she stayed by Eklavya’s side, her worry clawing at her. Yet, amidst the terror, she sensed something strange—though his breathing weakened, his ki was rising.

  Before she could comprehend it fully, the door burst open. Eklavya’s mother rushed in, her eyes wide with fear. She froze for a moment, taking in the sight of Anshvi sitting beside her unconscious son, gripping his hand tightly.