Dr. Rao's voice had gained a steely quality, reflecting the raw violence of the scene he was describing. Eleanor Vance was leaning forward, her face a mask of anxious concentration.
"Gauri was fighting a battle against nature, seven experienced warriors, and her own failing body," Dr. Rao explained, his voice softening slightly as he looked at Eleanor. "But her mind was clear. She knew the fight was not over until her son was free."
"The two Saka men, Rohak and Nias, were veterans," Dr. Rao stated. "They were trained killers. But they were fighting a ghost in the rain, a force they could neither categorize nor contain."
.....
Rohak and Niras, were fighting with desperate intensity, fueled by Zarakan's threats and the fear of this terrifying woman. Yet, despite their combined strength and training, they could only land glancing blows—scratches and superficial marks on Gauri's body—while she moved like a phantom through the pouring rain.
Seconds dragged into minutes. Fear, cold and sharp, began to grip the hearts of the two Saka men. She was in the same difficult environment as them, drenched, bruised, and bleeding, but they felt like she was dancing beautifully through the heavy downpour, her movements economical and deadly.
Gauri's saree, heavily soaked, clung to her body. The continuous, brutal clashing of swords had torn several rips in the fabric, exposing parts of her skin. This sight, combined with the adrenaline and the mounting terror of fighting a seemingly unstoppable force, began to distract the two young Saka men. Immoral thoughts, mixed with fear and lust, coiled dangerously in their minds, a fatal vulnerability in battle.
Gauri, who saw the shift in their predatory gaze, used the distraction as a strategic advantage. She did not attempt to hide, instead embracing the exposure to occupy a fraction of their attention.
In a swift, brutal sequence, she exploited a moment of hesitation: her sword slammed into Rohak's stomach, carving a heavy, deep injury, while a second parry immediately opened Niras's waist.
After a few more minutes of furious clashing, the two Saka men were at a complete disadvantage, bleeding heavily and exhausted. They could see their imminent death reflected in Gauri's cold eyes. Desperate, they exchanged a few rapid words in their native foreign tongue—a final, deadly agreement. They decided to launch a simultaneous death-or-life sword strike against Gauri.
Gauri, though she could not understand their words, felt the absolute conviction in their eyes. Her hunter's instinct, honed over years, screamed a terrifying warning. She knew a catastrophic, fatal attack was coming.
Rohak roared, charging Gauri with his full, dying strength, aiming a massive, overhead strike. Gauri struggled violently, unable to fully deflect the heavy blow. Her teeth gritted, she met his strength with her own powerful, primal war cry, pushing back with every fiber of her being. She simultaneously thrust her sword forward, piercing his stomach completely, and violently kicked him away. Rohak collapsed, screaming, his death agonizingly slow.
Gauri stumbled back, taking deep, desperate breaths. She was exhausted, the exhaustion of having fought seven trained killers in succession.
But her relief was cut short.
Rohak, squirming in his death throes, suddenly screamed a warning, directing his comrade. Gauri instantly registered the betrayal. One more! her instinct screamed. She whipped her head around, her body twisting to deflect the attack coming from her blind side.
It was Niras, using his last reserve of strength. Gauri managed to deflect the attack with her left arm, but the force of the blow was too great. Niras's sword ripped through her flesh, creating a long, deep, horizontal gash across her forearm. Blood instantly began pouring out into the heavy rain.
Gauri cried out—a brief, raw sound of pain, the first she had allowed herself.
Niras, having expended his life force, fell to the ground, utterly exhausted, struggling desperately to get back up. But Gauri was already there. She grabbed his hair tightly, forcing his face up, and plunged the commander's sword directly into his heart. Niras died in seconds, his eyes wide in absolute horror.
Rohak, still alive and dying slowly, watched the cold, brutal execution. Complete, utter fear gripped him, the final emotion of his life. He wanted only to die quickly, to get out of this hellish, terrifying place.
Gauri slowly walked toward him, her breathing ragged but steady. She lowered her body, whispering into his ear, her voice husky with blood and rain.
"Don't worry, Saka dog," she murmured. "I will send your remaining comrades soon to join you."
Rohak gave a small, final whimper, his last word a terrified gasp. "Y-you… are a devil…" Then, he died.
Gauri allowed herself a fleeting, grim laugh, a sound choked by the rain and her own pain. But she immediately calmed her emotions. She needed to survive. She quickly tore a piece of Niras's tunic from his dead body and tightly wrapped it around the long gash in her arm. The crude bandage stemmed the flow of blood, but she could feel the weakness creeping in.
Zarakan is still there, she calculated coldly. He can't walk. I have cleared half of his men. Her mind raced. Where is his other half?
She paused, looking into the driving rain. They wouldn't abandon Zarakan. They are likely waiting near the main road connecting this alley.
"I can't waste this momentum," she muttered to herself, her determination overriding the pain.
I need to get my boy, she thought, shaking her head. He needs me now.
With a fierce, almost superhuman will, she remounted the Saka horse she had left tied to the tree. Riding in this environment, injured, was agonizing, but her will was a greater force than any pain. She turned the horse straight into the forest alley, heading rapidly toward the location of Baras's group.
A few hundred meters away, Zarakan was huddled under the meager shelter of a thick tree. The heavy rain had muffled all sounds of the brutal battle. He heard nothing.
It is finished now, he thought, heavily sighing with relief. His men must have quickly killed the lunatic woman. He reasoned that his men were simply resting and couldn't come back immediately due to the downpour. He waited, impatient for their return so he could finally get revenge.
He did not know that the next person he would see would bring a shock that would shatter his arrogance to the core.
Meanwhile, Baras's group, further down at the entrance of this alley, remained utterly oblivious to the carnage. They were waiting under the shelter of a dense copse of trees, chatting casually, treating the delay as a minor inconvenience.
Jivan, one of the riders, complained, "Ah, such a bad weather. Really, it's very boring."
Anuj nodded. "Yes, it's pre-monsoon now, I asked one of the farmers. They call it the season of varsha."
A third rider, Ketan, nudged Anuj. "Then why the hell did you not alert us?!"
Anuj offered an embarrassed smile. "Ah, really sorry, I didn't take it seriously, guys. I thought it was just a simple weather event."
The bickering started again until Lieutenant Baras intervened loudly. "Enough! Don't bicker with each other. We are comrades in arms. It is all of our fault, so simply just wait and talk about other things."
Another rider, Devak, started chatting, a burning look on his face. "Ah, guys, that woman was really something. Such a beautiful face and body that even I can't stop imagining."
"Yes, I also feel the same," Sumer commented with a secretive look. "The frustration is boiling inside me. Uff, I can't stop it."
Baras laughed, a genuine chuckle of camaraderie. "You dirty fellows, always thinking like this. Couldn't you guys enjoy yourselves earlier at the pleasure house before coming here?"
Anuj replied with a smirk. "You can't blame us, Baras. The quality was not good in Sangraha City compared to our capital city." The others agreed wholeheartedly.
Baras then lowered his voice, regaining a measure of authority. "Okay, fine. You guys be serious here. You will get your chance in the capital later. But don't think about her, okay? She is now under our commander as a prisoner."
The others nodded, though their lustful gazes lingered on the ground.
Rudraksha, sitting captive on the horse beside them, was forced to listen to every vile, disgusting word. The language was slightly different from the Sanskrit he knew, but the intent was unmistakable. They were commenting on his mother, treating her like an object of crude lust. His small body shook with a rising tide of fury and helplessness. He swore an oath in his young, burning heart: If I live, I will make these men pay.
As he looked forward through the heavy curtain of rain, he saw it. A person's silhouette was rapidly approaching, the rhythmic sound of hooves muffled by the downpour. The Saka men were too busy in their foul conversation to notice.
But Rudraksha focused his gaze, straining through the darkness. His heart seized with a terrifying recognition. It was his mother.
He didn't know what to feel—hope, panic, or terror. Why did she come back? She needed to escape! She shouldn't be here!
He desperately wanted to shout, but he knew any sound from him would be their death sentence
.....
Eleanor Vance watched the segment with her hands covering her mouth, horror and awe warring on her face.
"Dr. Rao," she finally said, her voice strained. "That was… an unbelievable fight. A woman taking down seven armed men! And now that deep gash on her arm! Even after all that, she's still going to face the last group to save her son. I don't know what to call that."
Dr. Rao smiled gently. "Ms. Vance, she is a full-fledged warrior, a descendant of the legendary Sindhu-Tara Rajya's lineage. Her body may be failing, but her will is unbreakable. Her martial training provided the skills, but it is the maternal instinct that provides the strength."
He leaned in, his voice resonating with deep emotion. "The love of a mother for her child, when threatened, is perhaps the most dangerous and decisive force in existence. Gauri understands that if she stops now, her son will be enslaved, corrupted, or killed. She doesn't know her fate, but she will do whatever it takes to break this cycle."
Eleanor's expression softened with empathy, then hardened with a familiar rage. "I can also feel very angry for Rudraksha, hearing those disgusting comments about his mother. Will this hate rising in him be dangerous in the future? What will be the consequence of this trauma?"
"That hatred, Ms. Vance," Dr. Rao confirmed, "is the seed of the God-King. The trauma he suffered in this forest, watching his mother's sacrifice and hearing the enemy's filth, forged his resolve. It became the steel in his spine that would eventually change the course of history. But that is for later."
Dr. Rao gestured toward the screen, where the image of the lone, bloodied silhouette was becoming clearer.
"Now, Gauri has arrived. She dismounts her horse silently, blending into the heavy rain. Like a ghost of vengeance, she is moving forward to face the remaining seven men."
Dr. Rao took a final, dramatic pause. "The final act of her sacrifice is about to begin."