Chapter 58 Test of Faith
Near the grand Asura king's palace, a fire pit blazed at its center, the flames of Vasuki, the Naga King, casting a fierce scarlet glow that illuminated the faces of Hiranyakashipu and Holika. The air shimmered with heat, radiating in oppressive waves, making it nearly unbearable.
Prahlada was flanked by a group of Asura warriors and brought into the grounds. The moment they entered, the suffocating heat hit them like a wave. Sweat streamed down their faces, and their breathing grew labored. Their bodies instinctively recoiled from the burning intensity of the flames.
Hiranyakashipu stood with his hands firmly planted on his waist, glaring at his son.
"Prahlada," he said, his voice cold as ice, "I give you one final chance. Never offer a single prayer to Vishnu again."
His eyes narrowed, filled with a merciless resolve. "If you forsake him, you can still be my son, the prince of Asuras."
He raised a hand and pointed at Prahlada with detached finality. There would be no place for Vishnu in his kingdom, and certainly not in his bloodline.
"Father!" Prahlada's voice rang out, filled with unwavering devotion. "The Lord is in all things. He is the sky, the ocean, the forest, the earth. He is everywhere. Every thought, every word, every deed we perform is a prayer to Him."
He smiled, the depth of his faith shining through his eyes. "I am His, and I will not forsake Him."
Hiranyakashipu's lips twisted into a bitter, mocking smile. "Heh. Let's see how far your faith will take you."
He turned toward Holika, his voice a thunderous command. "Holika!"
Holika, her expression as cold as ice, stepped forward with a sneer. Dressed in her divine veil, her eyes gleamed with malice.
"This is the flame of Vasuki," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "It can burn everything to ashes. I will enter the flames with you. If you can withstand them, if you are truly protected by your god, I will reconsider my stance. But if your god cannot save you, neither will we."
Her words were laced with venom, each syllable carrying the weight of her hatred.
Holika's hatred for Vasuki, the naga that had once disfigured her beautiful face, burned as fiercely as the flames surrounding them. And with that, her disdain for Vishnu and his followers only grew. The churning of Kshira Sagara had nearly cost her life; the time for retribution was now.
"Good!"
Prahlada nodded solemnly. His eyes, clear and unwavering, shone with conviction. He clasped his hands together in prayer and, with a calm resolve, walked slowly into the searing flames, chanting a prayer to Vishnu as he did.
Holika, standing by his side, sneered. She adjusted her hood with both hands and stepped into the inferno alongside him.
Now, it was time to test the power of her blessing.
Boom!
The flames of Vasuki roared to life, their heat intense enough to scorch the very air around them. The fire reached out hungrily, licking at Prahlada's bare feet, the flames leaving trails of burning scars in their wake. Yet, despite the pain, Prahlada's expression remained calm, his face an unwavering mask of serenity.
He continued forward, undeterred, until he reached the heart of the flames. There, he sat cross-legged, as if he were meditating in a peaceful palace, the fire surrounding him but never touching his soul.
Holika, her resolve unshaken, smiled to herself. With her veil securely in place and the blessing of protection upon her, she too sat in the heart of the flames, untouched by their fury.
The heat that scorched everything else was nothing to her. It felt almost like home. The flames? They didn't bother her at all.
…
The Vaikuntha lay adjacent to Kshira Sagara, a realm of serenity and divine presence. Vishnu, the protector of the world, rested on his side upon his snake bed. His wife, Lakshmi, sat beside him, gently massaging his calves with tender care. Their eyes met, and in that shared gaze, a silent love spoke volumes.
Suddenly, Vishnu turned his head ever so slightly, his smile fading as his gaze fixed upon the human world.
"Husband, what is it that occupies your thoughts?" Lakshmi inquired softly.
Vishnu's expression became solemn. "The karma of Hiranyakashipu has ripened, and the time of the Asuras' dominion is coming to an end. The cycle is complete, and it is now time for the final act of Lila to unfold"
He gently tapped the snake bed beneath him. With a subtle twist of his finger, a ray of golden light shot forth, directed toward the figure of Prahlada, who lingered in Vishnu's vision.
Meanwhile, in the palace below, Hiranyakashipu's cruel laughter echoed through the chambers.
Prahlada, caught in the merciless blaze of the snake fire, writhed in agony. His skin, scorched black, glowed with a fiery red hue, like smoldering embers. His flesh burned, and it seemed as though he would soon be consumed by the flames.
"Hahaha!" Hiranyakashipu laughed, his voice dripping with malice. "Son, look at you now. Your gods cannot protect you! If you renounce your faith, I will spare you. I, your father, will forgive you!" He laughed again, louder this time, savoring the moment.
A surge of victory swelled in his chest. He had defeated his son, broken his faith, and soon, he would have crushed Vishnu, the protector of the world.
But if Prahlada refused to relent...
Hiranyakashipu was ready to end his disobedient son's life.
"No!" Prahlada's voice rang out, strong despite his suffering.
Boom!
An explosion of light cut through the air, interrupting Hiranyakashipu's triumphant laughter.
"What?!" Hiranyakashipu gasped, his gaze snapping down to where Prahlada sat.
Golden rays poured from Prahlada's body, and in an instant, the blackened scars on her skin began to crumble away, as though the golden light was slicing through them like scissors. The fiery darkness that had engulfed him evaporated into ash, revealing flawless skin beneath.
But then, the golden light flickered and flared. It swept across Holika's veil, tearing through it with force, sending the fabric into countless shards that exploded into the air. The blessing was gone. The protection had failed.
Holika's eyes widened in horror.
"Impossible!" she screamed, her voice filled with disbelief.
The flames in her eyes flared once more, transforming into a host of serpents, their tongues flickering and their teeth bared. They rushed toward her, consuming her in a furious blaze, and with a final, ear-splitting roar, they reduced her to nothing but ash.
"Holika!"
Hiranyakashipu's voice thundered as he watched the fire rage even fiercer. He rushed forward, but as he passed through the flames, he felt nothing—only the empty weight of his hands, now covered in blackened ashes.
The flame flickered and died, its fiery embrace extinguished.
"Father..." Prahlada's voice was soft, tinged with sadness as he stood slowly, facing the man who had once been his father. There were no words to exchange.
His father had truly tried to kill him.
Boom!
Hiranyakashipu spun around suddenly, his body trembling with fury, his movements like a wild beast driven mad. His anger reached an unbearable peak.
His golden eyes flashed with bloodlust. His teeth ground together, his fists clenched so tightly that the air around him seemed to vibrate with the pressure.
"Vishnu!" he roared. "You dare mock me? Damn you! Damn you all!"
His eyes, now a deep crimson, burned with hatred as he glared at his son.
A mace materialized in his hand, dark and powerful. With a furious swing, he pointed it at Prahlada, the force of the wind swirling around it.
"You say Vishnu is omnipotent? Call upon your god! Let him use his divine power to bring Indra here! Bring him here!"
"Vishnu, Indra!" Hiranyakashipu's voice shook the very heavens. "I will kill them both today! I swear it! I will kill them!"
His roar echoed across the realms, rattling the Svargas and the earth beneath. The very air seemed to tremble with the violent force of his rage.
"Father," Prahlada's voice was calm but filled with sorrow. "Your anger blinds you. You cannot harm the divine, nor can you break my faith in Lord Vishnu. It is not too late for you to turn away from this path of hatred."
Hiranyakashipu's eyes darkened with an even deeper malice. "If you do not call him here, I will kill your mother."
Prahlada's gaze did not waver. "Lord Vishnu is everywhere. If you seek him, he will appear when the time is right. My faith protects all who are dear to me. Do as you will, Father. I fear nothing, for he is with me."
Hiranyakashipu's words were devoid of any warmth, his tone flat and cold. "Quickly!"
Prahlada shuddered under the weight of his father's threat. His eyes were wide, not just with fear, but with the recognition that his father—this monster before him—had truly lost his mind.
Could it be that his father would go so far?
"Good..." Prahlada's voice was shaky, the words barely escaping his lips. Slowly, he clasped his hands together, preparing to invoke the gods, torn between his love for his mother and the desperate hope that somehow, peace could still be found.
…
In the divine realm of Brahma, within the city of Amravati, Airavata lay submerged in the lake, his massive head lowered as though trying to hide from the world like an ostrich. The great elephant was completely still, as though paralyzed by a deep sense of reluctance. Surrounding him were the revered Rishi Brihaspati and the Devas, their eyes filled with concern.
"Airavata!"
Rishi Brihaspati's voice broke the silence, stern but gentle. "It's your turn. The human world needs you!"
The mighty elephant let out a faint, sorrowful sound but did not respond.
Vayu, ever energetic, squatted at the water's edge, his voice teasing but firm. "Holy Airavata, you are still so young! How can you be so lazy now?"
With a sudden ripple, the surface of the lake stirred, and from beneath the water, the slender trunk of Airavata emerged. He let out a long, drawn-out cry, filled with grievance.
At the sound, Varuna, the god of the oceans, shook his head, his expression both bemused and concerned.
"Being a god isn't meant to be tiring," Varuna said, spreading his hands wide in an attempt to comfort the great beast. "You're not just taking the place of the King of Svarga. Think of how honored you are—how respected! We look up to you as much as we do to Indra, our King of Svarga!"
Airavata's six tusks gleamed in the sunlight as he let out a deep, frustrated roar. The Devas' words seemed to have no effect. Without so much as a glance in their direction, he dove back into the lake with a final splash, leaving the gods helpless and dismayed.
"The Airavata has used all his energy!" Surya exclaimed, his voice filled with confusion. "What do we do now?"
Surya's gaze turned to Rishi Brihaspati, seeking direction.
Rishi Brihaspati paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought. Then, with a firm nod, he made a decision.
"We can only wake up Indra now." He turned to Vayu, a spark of determination in his voice. "Vayu, go summon the three most beautiful Apsaras. I'll handle the rest."
Vayu's eyes lit up with excitement at the challenge.
"Good!" he exclaimed, already turning to fulfill his task.
---
Chapter 59 Indra's Awakening
"Surya, just to be sure, summon Kama, the God of Love and desire!" Rishi Brihaspati instructed, his tone filled with urgency.
Kama, the God of Love. The embodiment of desire, pleasure, and beauty. If even the Apsaras of Svarga couldn't awaken Indra from his meditative state, then Kama's divine arrow, the arrow of love, would surely do the trick. With the arrow of love aimed at Indra's heart, the King of Svarga would naturally break free from his penance.
"Understood! I'll go summon Kama right away!" Surya responded, his voice resolute. With that, he drove his sun chariot off toward the task.
Soon, the air shimmered as a group gathered once again, this time accompanied by the three most beautiful Apsaras. They moved gracefully across the grassy expanse, their snow-white feet barely touching the ground.
The goddess on the left was petite, her skin as radiant and soft as freshly churned milk. Her delicate features glowed with innocence, yet her large, sorrowful eyes seemed to hold a quiet melancholy that stirred a desire to shield her from harm. This was Menaka, known for her unmatched charm and the ability to ensnare even the most steadfast hearts.
The goddess on the right was tall and statuesque, her every movement exuding an alluring elegance. Her wheat-gold complexion shimmered under the divine light, and her cascading dark hair framed a face of unparalleled beauty, accentuated by lips as red and inviting as freshly bloomed hibiscus. This was Rambha, the embodiment of sensual allure, renowned for her ability to mesmerize even the gods themselves.
In the center stood a goddess whose very presence seemed to flow like a gentle breeze. Her grace was otherworldly, her movements soft and fluid, as if she were a living embodiment of music and poetry. Her flawless, glowing face was framed by her long, lustrous hair, and her form was adorned with a flowing skirt woven with golden threads that shimmered with celestial light. This was Urvashi, the most celebrated of the Apsaras, whose name itself meant "one who can steal hearts."
"Here they come!" Vayu exclaimed, landing beside Brihaspati with a confident smile. "The goddess in the middle is Urvashi, unmatched in her beauty, even among the Apsaras."
Brihaspati nodded, clearly captivated by their presence. "They are indeed divine. Together, they are the finest jewels of Svarga."
The other gods could not take their eyes off the Apsaras, their grace and radiance commanding absolute attention. Yet, Agni's brow furrowed with unease. "But what if it still doesn't work?" he questioned, his voice tinged with doubt. "The King of Svarga once reveled in indulgence, but now his penance shields his heart. Can even the most enchanting Apsaras wake him up?"
"We can overwhelm him with numbers," Brihaspati replied with a reassuring smile. "We have all 36 Deva Apsaras of Svarga. With Kama's help, I believe we can succeed!"
As Brihaspati spoke with growing confidence, the Devas exchanged thoughtful glances. It made sense—if the Apsaras' beauty wasn't enough, surely their sheer numbers would be. And with Kama's intervention, could Indra resist?
The air buzzed with anticipation. The battle to rouse the King of Svarga had begun in earnest.
By the lake, the three Apsaras awaited Urvashi's signal to begin their dance.
The moment they moved, the air seemed to shimmer with their grace. Their red skirts fluttered and twirled like the petals of a blooming mandala flower, each movement a delicate swirl. Their figures, fluid and enchanting, encircled Indra, weaving a trail of sweet-scented breezes. It was as if the very essence of beauty brushed against his chest, like soft jade fingers caressing his skin.
With each step, waves of love and longing began to stir in Indra's heart. Every twist and turn of the dance was like a teasing caress, tugging at the deepest strings of his soul.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
His heartbeat thundered in his chest, resonating like the roar of a storm.
The Devas, watching from the sidelines, exchanged glances as they heard the sound. Their eyes lit up with excitement. Could it be? Was it working?
At that moment, Surya arrived, Kama in tow.
Kama descended from his parrot, his smile as radiant as ever. He was handsome, exuding an aura of charm and allure. With a graceful leap, he slid off his mount and landed on the soft grass below.
"Ah, how can anyone resist my presence?" Kama said with a teasing smile, his voice smooth and melodic. "Fear not, for I, the master of love, am here to ensure hearts bend to your will."
He raised his left hand, and with a fluid motion, a divine bow materialized in his grasp. Crafted from sugarcane, its shaft bore alternating purple and green segments, exuding a sweet, vibrant fragrance. The bowstring, woven from buzzing bees, hummed softly, the sound of love itself. The fletching was made from delicate attachments, while the arrowhead was formed from the hope of a thousand hearts, the tip glistening with the promise of longing.
Kama nocked an arrow, drawing the bowstring back with a slow, deliberate motion. His eyes sparkled with anticipation, and a mischievous smile curled at the corners of his lips. He had never yet aimed his arrow at the King of Svarga—today, however, would be different.
Before he could release the arrow, a sudden golden light shot down from the skies, enveloping Indra in its radiance.
The Devas and the Apsaras all turned, startled by the light. As it dissipated, they found themselves looking at a space where Indra had once stood.
"Where did Indra go?" Kama muttered, his brow furrowing in confusion as he scanned the area. He looked left and right, but Indra was nowhere to be found. He released the arrow, though it flew without a target.
The Devas, too, were perplexed. The King had vanished.
"This... this is the power of Lord Vishnu!" Rishi Brihaspati said, his eyes narrowing in thought. "It seems Lord Vishnu has called Indra away."
Kama's expression faltered, and with a disappointed sigh, he lowered his bow and arrow. "A pity," he murmured.
…
On the other side, Indra was lost in a trance, deep in meditation and slumber, his mind adrift in peaceful stillness. In this serene state, he saw three celestial beings dancing around him. Their graceful movements, accompanied by a sweet fragrance, stirred a longing deep within him. But before the desire could take hold, a sharp presence broke through the haze, pulling him from the trance with ease.
"Very good dance moves," the voice echoed.
The thought struck him like a bolt of lightning, and with that, he snapped awake, his meditation shattered.
Indra blinked, his senses returning. He smiled softly at first, but then his expression shifted to one of confusion and disbelief. What he expected to see were the Apsaras, their beauty surrounding him in a warm, ethereal glow. Instead, before him stood an angry figure in Sahsrakavacha, an imposing figure whose presence felt like a shadow over his soul.
"!!!"
Indra's brow furrowed as he blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The face before him was oddly familiar, but he couldn't place it.
"Indra!" the figure shouted, his voice thick with contempt. "Hahaha! Stupid Vishnu, he sent you here! Hahaha! However, Svarga is my domain now!"
Indra's heart sank. The figure's laughter was wild, filled with a maddening glee.
"Indra," the man snarled, his face twisted with ferocity. "Your death is at hand!"
It was Hiranyakashipu—the very Asura who had terrorized the Triloka, the one who had caused so much destruction. Indra's blood ran cold at the sight.
Hiranyakashipu's rage erupted, and with a mighty roar, a golden hammer appeared in his hand. It gleamed with an almost blinding light, as golden sparks danced along its surface. As he leaped into the air, the hammer seemed to pulse with energy, drawing upon the very forces of Svarga and the Earth itself. The sheer power it radiated was enough to tear the fabric of reality, an unstoppable force that no god could hope to withstand.
Indra's eyes widened in shock as the hammer glowed with unholy strength.
"So strong!" he whispered, the weight of the moment sinking in. There was no time to hesitate.
His heart raced, and without a second thought, he cried out.
"Sahasrakavacha! Grant me the power of the epitome of gods!"
In an instant, golden light enveloped him as the Sahasrakavacha's Armor materialized, its gleaming surface shimmering with the brilliance of the sun itself. As the light cleared, Brahma's figure appeared, the radiant deity standing tall and unyielding.
"As you wish!" came the ethereal voice of the armor, echoing softly around him.
Indra's expression hardened with resolve, his golden armor radiating divine energy. He was ready. The battle was about to begin.
The moment Hiranyakashipu's massive hammer fell, the ground trembled violently.
Boom!
A shockwave of terrifying force erupted, and the aftermath rippled through Svarga like a tidal wave. The heavens themselves seemed to quake under the immense power. Buildings crumbled and shattered, their remains tumbling through the air like dust. The Asuras, caught in the destruction, screamed in panic as their world disintegrated around them.
Mandala Mountain swayed uneasily, and the stars that marked the boundary between Svarga and the human world flickered, dimming as explosions of light shattered the celestial sky. Stars exploded one after another, breaking apart into countless fragments.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The explosions rocked the very foundation of Svarga. Amidst the chaos, Indra stood firm, his hands pressed on his waist, his clothes billowing in the storm. With a sudden motion, he spread his arms wide, and in an instant, two powerful maces materialized in his hands—the Vristi and Duskara. The twin maces glowed with raw energy, lightning crackling violently between them, their fury intertwining in a symphony of destruction.
Boom!
Hiranyakashipu staggered back, taking two steps before coming to a halt. His laughter echoed, mocking.
"Hahaha! Your lightning is nothing! You are so weak that it can't even scratch me!"
With a casual flick, Hiranyakashipu tossed aside his golden hammer, his laughter growing louder, echoing through the heavens. His arrogance was palpable, his confidence unwavering.
But Indra, unfazed, calmly lowered his weapons. He didn't flinch or show any sign of panic. He had already anticipated this, his mind calculating every move. A subtle smile played on his lips as he tilted his head.
"Ah, Lord Vishnu," Indra said, his voice soft yet steady. "I should have known it was you."
Through the lingering tension, a warm laugh resonated, rich with kindness and understanding. Lord Vishnu stepped forward, his expression a blend of amusement and gentle remorse. "Forgive me, Indra. The devotees' devotion compelled this play. But rest assured, as their wish has been fulfilled, I grant you a boon in return. From this moment, neither I nor any incarnation of mine shall bring you harm."
A golden light descended from the heavens, enveloping Indra in its radiance. The light was warm and invigorating, and as it flowed into his body, he felt the rush of divine power filling him. The blessing was clear—an assurance that he would remain untouched by harm from Hiranyakashipu's strength, a divine shield that made him invulnerable to the god's wrath.
"The blessing feels good," Indra mused to himself, a sly smile creeping onto his face. "But it seems a bit… lackluster?"
Chuckling softly, he glanced upward with a playful glint in his eye.
"Hey~ Lord, you're too stingy with your gifts," Indra teased. "Such small blessings? You'll find yourself cursed in the future for being so tight-fisted!"
His voice was lighthearted as if bantering with an old friend. After all, he had been summoned by Vishnu himself, and Indra wasn't one to miss an opportunity for a little extra favor.
A huff of annoyance followed. "Hmph!" Hiranyakashipu snapped, his rage flaring as he turned to face the new arrival. "You're all here, are you? Then get out of my way! I'll take you both on and destroy you!"
Fury burned in his eyes as he swept his gaze across the celestial beings around him, daring anyone to challenge him.
The tension was thick in the air. A battle between Deva and Asura loomed, one that would shape the fate of Svarga's throne.
---
Chapter 60 Indra, Vishnu, and Asura King
"Vishnu, Indra. Today I kill both of you together!" The roar of Hiranyakashipu reverberated through the svarga, unleashing a wave of destructive air.
He raised his hands high, crossing them in front of his chest before jerking them to both sides with immense force.
The sound of cracking armor echoed as the Sahsrakavacha on his body splintered. Cracks spread rapidly across the surface, forming a web of destruction that deepened with each passing second. The cracks stretched to their breaking point—
Bang!
With a deafening explosion, the breastplate shattered, scattering countless fragments into the air, revealing his powerful, molten body beneath—like red-hot copper sizzling in flames.
"Where are you, Vishnu?!" Hiranyakashipu roared, his voice thundering across the svarga. "Show yourself, if you dare to face me!" his chest heaving with fury. His upper body was now exposed, his muscles bulging, tendons throbbing beneath his skin. He clenched his fingers one by one into a fist, resembling a predator's claws, ready to tear into anything in his path.
"As you wish!" A voice echoed through the Svarga, a calm yet commanding presence that reverberated in response to the blessings of his followers.
Boom!
The ground trembled as a massive pillar cracked open with a series of sharp, thunderous cracks. It exploded with incredible force, and from its remains, a terrifying figure leaped out, his golden hair swirling like a storm.
Ouoh! A gust of wind followed, thick with the scent of blood and power, as a roar split the heavens themselves.
The figure had the body of a human, its head was of the fierce and regal lion. He lowered his head and let out a mighty roar, the ground shaking beneath the force of his sound. His golden crown shone brightly, illuminating the darkening sky, and a golden shawl draped elegantly over his body. His hands were sharp, and clawed, exuding a cold light that matched the fierce rage in his eyes.
The fourth avatara of the Vishnu. He incarnated as a part-lion, part-man. Hence it's named Narasimha.
"I will kill you both! Prove that I am the true king of Triloka!" Hiranyakashipu growled in a low, guttural voice. He threw his head back and roared, the sound growing louder and more ferocious by the second. As he did, his body began to grow, expanding at an alarming rate until he seemed to engulf the very heavens. His form became so massive that it appeared as though Svarga itself was held up by the sheer enormity of his presence.
His feet, enormous enough to crush mountains, slammed down with world-shattering force, his power creating an oppressive wind that crushed everything in its path. The ground trembled as the wind of his steps surged forward, a storm of terror sweeping towards Indra and Narasimha.
Indra's heart raced, but his resolve never wavered. With a sharp exhale, he shot upward, turning into a streak of light and blasting toward the chaos.
Narasimha's eyes flashed with cold fury. In one swift motion, he grabbed Prahlada—who was desperately calming him to avert the oncoming destruction—and leaped out of harm's way.
Boom!
The earth trembled as Hiranyakashipu's colossal foot came crashing down, a force so powerful it seemed to crush the stars themselves. The heavens quaked, and the battle between gods reached its peak, the fate of Svarga hanging in the balance.
The skies themselves seemed to tremble as Svarga shook relentlessly. The stars at the boundary between Svarga and the human realm flickered violently, their light dimming as if struggling against the chaos unfolding below. Planets in the distance shattered one after another, their fragments scattering into the void like broken glass.
Indra steadied himself as the world around him raged. His eyes immediately locked on Narasimha, who had just landed with Prahlada in tow. Narasimha gently set Prahlada down before turning his gaze to Indra. Narasimha clasped his hands in front of him, offering a respectful bow.
"Narasimha?"
Indra mirrored the gesture, folding his hands and offering a solemn return of the greeting. A thought stirred in his heart as he observed the lion-god before him.
This must be Vishnu's incarnation—Narasimha. His temper seems… steady, and controlled for now.
But in the next moment, everything changed. Narasimha's expression shifted, his eyes filling with fury as he turned his head toward the enemy. His body swelled, growing larger as he let out a fearsome roar.
Boom!
The battle between the two titans erupted before Indra's eyes. Hiranyakashipu, the enormous Asura, met Narasimha's claws with his massive fists in a clash that shook the very fabric of Svarga.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Power surged from both realms, the divine energies of Svarga and the raw strength of the earth converging to fuel Hiranyakashipu's might. Narasimha, however, was undeterred, his strength rising in equal measure with each blow.
With every collision, sparks flew—bright, burning fire scattered in all directions, igniting the air around them.
Tear!
Narasimha's claws slashed across Hiranyakashipu's chest, leaving a deep, jagged wound. Blood, as hot as molten lava, poured from the wound, sizzling against the air.
Hiranyakashipu's head snapped down, his lips curling into a maniacal grin as he let out a wild, echoing laugh.
"Hahahaha!" He mocked with a voice full of cruel amusement.
"You are neither god, nor Asura, nor human. You are the avatar of Vishnu, not a creation of Brahma—formed solely to wound me! Impressive." He paused, his eyes gleaming with dark triumph. "But what a pity... You still cannot break my boon. You cannot kill me!"
As he laughed, the power of the blessing surged once again, and the wound on his chest began to close, healing instantly as though it had never been.
With a wicked grin, Hiranyakashipu conjured a massive golden hammer in his hand. He swung it down toward Narasimha's chest with all the fury of a meteor falling from the heavens.
Boom!
Narasimha staggered back, forced to take two steps to steady himself. His golden eyes flashed with resolve, but Hiranyakashipu wasn't finished.
"Hahahaha!" The Asura raised his head, his laughter ringing through the air as he swung a massive mace high into the sky, preparing to strike again.
In the blink of an eye, Hiranyakashipu's triumphant laughter faltered, his grin vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. His face twisted in agony, contorting in ways that made it seem as though every inch of his body was being ripped apart. The sheer intensity of his pain was palpable, and one could almost feel it just by looking at him.
"Ahhh!" The scream that tore from his throat was filled with rage and suffering. "It hurts!"
He gritted his teeth, his golden eyes narrowing with lethal focus as he whipped his head around, locking onto the figure of Indra—now a mere speck in the distance.
"Being small has its advantages!"
Indra stood calmly, his smile serene, despite the turmoil around him. In his hands, he wielded the divine spear Amogha, its blue glow shimmering as divine energy surged around him. The divine armor on his body sparkled with ethereal light, and the venomous poison of Halahala writhed like a serpent, coiling around the spear as though guided by an unseen hand.
"Amogha!"
Indra's voice was calm yet powerful as his eyes fixed on Hiranyakashipu, his gaze unflinching. With a swift motion, he drew back his arm and hurled the spear forward.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The divine spear split into thousands of smaller projectiles as they shot forward, falling like a torrential downpour onto Hiranyakashipu's massive form. The spearheads glowed with an eerie, poisonous light that flickered in the air.
For a brief moment, Hiranyakashipu's body twitched violently as the divine spears pierced his skin. The pain was overwhelming, like a thousand needles digging into his flesh, each one carrying the agonizing sting of venom. It was as if he were being attacked by a swarm of invisible beasts.
"Ahhh!!!"
Hiranyakashipu roared in fury, his body writhing with unbearable discomfort. His golden eyes burned with hatred as he glared at Indra, his voice hoarse from the pain.
"Indra!"
The Asura trembled, fighting against the excruciating sensations as his body shuddered from the poison's relentless assault. But even in the face of such pain, he would not show weakness.
Indra, unfazed, withdrew Amogha, his expression calm and controlled. But before he could react further, Hiranyakashipu, his body shaking with rage, began to shrink at an alarming rate, compressing into a form so small it was almost unrecognizable.
In a flash, he hurtled toward Indra, moving with the speed of a meteor, intent on crushing the god before him.
Boom!
The ground trembled beneath them as Hiranyakashipu's massive form shot toward Indra, but just as it seemed the Asura would strike, a tremendous force slammed down from above.
A colossal foot descended from the skies with an earth-shattering crash, shaking the very foundations of Svarga. Narasimha, in all his glory, had appeared once more. With a single, swift motion, he trampled Hiranyakashipu underfoot, his massive foot pressing the Asura into the earth as if he were nothing more than an insect. The heavens shook as the battlefield was engulfed in the power of Narasimha's divine wrath.
Narasimha bared his teeth, letting out a deafening roar. With a fierce determination, he bent forward and pressed down with all his might.
Boom!
The massive feet, as large as mountains, pinned Hiranyakashipu beneath them. The ground shook violently as Narasimha's immense power crushed his foe. But Hiranyakashipu, ever the resilient fighter, uncoiled like a serpent. With a swift motion, he straightened his back and rose, placing his hands on Narasimha's gigantic foot for support.
"Ahhhhhhh!"
The Asura's roar echoed through the Svarga, his body coiling with effort as he seemed to defy Narasimha's dominance, attempting to overturn the human lion.
Hiranyakashipu was a formidable warrior, but strength alone wasn't enough against the gods. Indra watched the battle unfold with keen eyes, his expression unreadable.
He can't harm him directly, Indra thought, but a little interference will tip the scales.
In a flash, the divine spear Amogha vanished from Indra's hand, replaced by the legendary Indra's Bow, which shimmered with seven radiant colors. He nocked an arrow, the bowstring vibrating with divine energy. As he pulled it back, the poisonous light of Halahala flared brightly, condensing into a dark blue arrow that hummed with power.
Boom!
The arrow flew, striking Hiranyakashipu with the force of a storm. The Asura staggered as if struck by an invisible force stronger than any physical blow. His body recoiled in agony, like a titan felled by kryptonite, the strength draining from him in an instant.
Narasimha seized the moment, his colossal foot descending once more with the force of a mountain.
Boom!
Indra's eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp and calculating. It's done.
Hiranyakashipu's blessings were a nearly insurmountable defense—protection against death by day or night, indoors or outdoors, from gods, asuras, yakshas, nagas, or humans. But there was still a way to defeat him.
Indra turned and gazed toward the sky, his voice booming with authority.
"Surya!!!"
...
In the Brahmaloka, Brahma and the goddess Saraswati sat cross-legged upon a radiant lotus, their forms glowing with divine light. Waves of energy shimmered in front of them, reflecting the ongoing battle in the Svarga, a celestial mirror capturing every moment.
"The poison of Halahala can't harm Hiranyakashipu, but it causes him immense pain," Brahma said slowly, his voice heavy with foreknowledge.
"Hiranyakashipu is going to be captured!" Saraswati added, her eyes flickering with both concern and hope.
Before them, the mirror wasn't only a reflection for the gods, but also a window for countless Devas and immortals who had gathered to witness the battle unfold. As they watched Hiranyakashipu struggle, their faces brightened with anticipation.
"Great!" Surya exclaimed, his voice filled with relief. "The end of Hiranyakashipu's rule is near!"
"The suffering he has caused will finally be over!" Brihaspati marveled, the atmosphere thick with a mixture of excitement and disbelief.
"The moment Hiranyakashipu is defeated," Agni, the god of fire, said eagerly, his hands trembling with anticipation, "we can resume the sacrifices. The power of the Devas will be restored, and we will return to Svarga!"
Vayu laughed, a rich, booming sound that echoed through the chamber. "If lord Vishnu and Indra work together, victory is certain!"
Brihaspati nodded, their faces alight with shared optimism. The era of Hiranyakashipu's tyranny was nearing its end, and with it, the promise of peace and prosperity for the realms.
"Indra," said one of the Rishis, Attri his voice filled with admiration, "he is truly the strongest of the Adityas. The son of Kshyapa has inherited his wisdom."
"In that case," Attri continued, his eyes softening with reverence, "my wife and I can finally return to the human world, as we had once hoped."
The immortal Attri, born from Brahma's eyes, had long devoted himself to the path of wisdom. His long beard and hair, thick and silvered with age, cascaded down his form, his orange-red robe a testament to his divine status. Clutching his curved short staff, he and his wife, Anasuya, had sought refuge in the Brahmaloka after the persecution of Hiranyakashipu forced them to leave the human world.
As the Devas and immortals shared in their joy, the voice of Indra echoed through the mirror, a call that rang with the power of the heavens.
"Surya!" Indra's voice thundered.
"Surya!!" he repeated, summoning the sun god with urgency.
---
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