Bakasura was not like the others.
He did not rush.
He did not roar.
And most importantly—he did not underestimate children.
From the shadows of a ravaged forest, Bakasura observed Gokul with sharp, calculating eyes. His massive form was hidden beneath layers of illusion, his presence masked carefully.
Three demons had rushed in blindly.
Three demons were dead.
Patterns mattered.
The child was the pattern.
Bakasura clenched his clawed hands.
"Not Vishnu," he muttered. "Too playful."
But too strong.
So Bakasura waited.
He watched villagers come and go. He memorized routes, routines, weaknesses. He listened to laughter, to the clink of butter pots, to the cries of children.
And he learned.
Krishna was never alone.
Yashoda was always near.
The village was protected by unseen force.
Direct assault would fail.
So Bakasura chose patience.
He chose hunger.
Days later, famine struck.
Not naturally.
Crops wilted overnight.
Cows refused to graze.
Streams thinned to trickles.
The villagers panicked.
"What curse is this?"
"Why now?"
Krishna felt the imbalance immediately.
Dharma disturbance detected.
Source: Environmental Manipulation.
Intent: Starvation.
The system chimed grimly.
«Hostile Entity Operating Indirectly.
Threat Profile: Intelligent.
Recommendation: Intervention Required.»
Krishna frowned.
Starving civilians crossed the line.
He could tolerate fear.
He could tolerate threats aimed at him.
But hunger?
Unforgivable.
That night, Krishna sat beside Yashoda as she counted dwindling grain stores, worry etched deeply into her face.
"We'll manage," she said softly, though her voice betrayed doubt.
Krishna reached for her hand.
"I'll help," he said.
She smiled weakly. "Of course you will."
He meant it differently.
Krishna stepped outside.
He expanded his awareness.
He found Bakasura immediately—lurking beyond the forest line, feeding slowly, deliberately, savoring the suffering.
Krishna walked toward him.
Alone.
Bakasura sensed him instantly.
The demon manifested fully, towering above the trees, eyes widening in shock.
"You came alone?" Bakasura asked incredulously. "No fear? No tricks?"
Krishna looked up at him calmly.
"I don't like bullies," he said.
Bakasura laughed. "You should fear me, child. I am death."
Krishna tilted his head. "You're late."
The system chimed.
«Combat Mode: Authorized.
Dharma Violation Level: Severe.
Lethal Force: Approved.»
Bakasura attacked.
Not recklessly.
He feinted, retreating, testing reactions. He summoned illusions, poisoned winds, crushing pressure.
Krishna walked through it all.
Untouched.
Every step felt heavier to Bakasura, as if reality itself resisted him.
"What are you?" Bakasura roared.
Krishna stopped.
"I am balance."
He moved.
The world snapped.
Krishna struck Bakasura's chest with a single palm.
No explosion.
No theatrics.
Just pure, precise force.
Bakasura's heart stopped instantly.
His body collapsed, dissolving into ash before it hit the ground.
Krishna exhaled slowly.
Balance restored.
The land responded immediately.
Crops revived.
Streams flowed.
Life returned.
The system updated.
«High-Intelligence Hostile Neutralized.
Efficiency Rating: Optimal.
Dharma Balance: Corrected.»
Krishna turned back toward Gokul.
The villagers would never know how close they came to starvation.
And that was how it should be.
Yashoda was waiting when he returned.
"Where did you go?" she asked gently.
Krishna smiled. "For a walk."
She sighed, pulling him into an embrace. "Next time, tell me."
He nodded.
Above the mortal realm, Mahadev chuckled softly.
"He chose mercy for the people," Shiva said. "And finality for the demon."
Parvati smiled proudly. "Our son is growing."
Krishna slept peacefully that night.
Far away, in Mathura, Kamsa screamed.
"WHY WON'T YOU DIE?!"
Krishna did not hear him.
He was dreaming of butter.
--chapter 12 ended--