Morning.
Training Grounds.
In the Royal District, the day stirred to life in quiet layers.
Temple bells rang out at steady intervals, their sound carrying through the cool air as archakas moved through their morning poojas, the faint scent of incense beginning to spread. In the kitchens, fires were being lit, utensils shifting and clinking as cooks and attendants fell into their routines, voices low but constant as breakfast preparations picked up pace.
Along the pathways, a few early risers moved about—servants with covered trays, attendants fetching water, the occasional official already beginning his day. Guards changed shifts with practiced ease, exchanging brief words before settling into position, eyes scanning out of habit more than urgency.
Birds stirred in the trees, their calls soft at first, then gradually filling the spaces between the sounds of the waking district.
And beneath it all, almost unnoticed—there were others.
Figures that didn't quite belong to the rhythm of the morning. Moving where shadows still held, watching without being seen. Agents, placed carefully, ensuring that nothing unexpected slipped through.
And if it did—it wouldn't last long.
On the training grounds, however, the scene was different.
At this hour, it was usually quiet—just a few on-duty men and Hamsa. When the mist hung low, even that felt denser than it was, the space closing in slightly as figures moved through it.
But today, the mist was gone—cleared away by Hamsa's doing—and the grounds felt sharper, more exposed.
There were more guards present, positioned with clear intent. The entire Royal Family was there, and security—especially around the Mahadevi—was noticeably tighter. Her pregnancy had made that unavoidable.
The air itself felt heavier.
The Raja sat on a large, cushioned chair meant for two, placed slightly off the main ground, giving him a clear view of everything. Hamsa stood ahead and to the right on the field, posture straight, hands crossed, his attention fixed forward.
Then, looking closer, the Raja noticed it.
Faint glimmers around Hamsa's wrist.
Small formations—barely visible unless you knew what to look for.
Mana crystals.
"So those were mana crystals…" he muttered to himself, before letting his attention return to the field.
On the ground were three figures.
His wife, who had been seated beside him just moments ago.
His second son, Garuda.
And the body of a man.
Garuda stood there, breathing heavily, sweat covering him from head to toe. But it wasn't from exertion. His breath came uneven, almost breaking—his body struggling to process what had just happened.
His first kill.
Mahadevi was beside him now, trying to console him, her hand resting against him, steady and present.
But there were no words.
None that would help.
Soon all of them move, Garuda was taking back to the residence, Hamsa basically ordering him to rest for a few days.
The Mahadevi went with him, while the Raja though of leaving for the court but decied to to stay with his son and left with the Mahadevi.
Hamsa on the other hand, having more time then usual on his schedule, thought of using to catch up on Padamavathi, it had been some time since they last spoke and the last time he left her with more work.
_____________________________
Gardens.
After putting Garuda to rest in his chambers, Mahadevi Bhadra and Raja Valangar II walked through the gardens that lay between the royal residence and the main palace.
The air was calmer here. The earlier tension hadn't followed them fully, but it hadn't left either.
"That was far too reckless," Bhadra said, unable to hold it in any longer. "What was Hamsa even thinking, giving that man his mana?"
Her voice carried frustration, even anger—but it lived only in her tone. Beneath it, there was nothing.
"Now, now," Indra replied lightly, almost as if trying to ease her out of it. "We both know Hamsa wouldn't put anyone's life on the line. Especially not his own brother."
He glanced ahead as they walked.
"He might let someone get caught in a forest fire," he added with a faint smile, "but he'll never let them burn."
Even as he said it, there was a trace of uncertainty beneath the words—Neither of them pointed it out.
"Even so," Bhadra said, not letting it go, "that was too reckless."
Indra could only give a wry smile in return. He didn't argue immediately.
A few moments passed before she spoke again.
"Was it necessary?"
This time, Indra didn't answer right away. Then—
"Yes."
The word came out firm, without hesitation.
"In my eyes, it was," he continued. "You know the kind of effect Hamsa has had on all of us since he was a child. And Garuda…" He let out a small breath. "That boy didn't just admire him—he grew up using Hamsa as the example for everything."
He fell silent for a moment and spoke.
"So, yes. I do believe it was necessary."
For a moment, his thoughts drifted—back to his own past. To the first time he had drawn blood. The weight of it. The way it had settled in his chest afterward.
And then, a quieter thought—
what would the man he was now feel… if he were placed in that moment again?
"What about Hamsa then?" Bhadra asked.
"You know him better then I do. Do you think that Hamsa needs the same?" Indra asked, though his tone implied it was more of a statement then a question.
Bhadra though for a moment, though she knew the answer she still looked back at the all the memories of Hamsa she remembered and went silent.
_____________________________
Hamsa made his way toward the temple complex and its vast expanse of learning spaces.
Gopal and Ranapala walked a step behind him. There were no guards present, though that wasn't out of the ordinary.
[Was all that really necessary? It was pretty over the top in my opinion.] Adi spoke inside Hasma head.
What was over the top? Hamsa replied.
[You. That whole overprotective act for your little brother. Let me count—] Adi began, raising his fingers. [Mana crystals in the air and ground, all charged and ready to pierce that man's brain, heart, limbs at a moment's notice. Your mana zone half-active. And on top of that, you even primed yourself for a quick response.]
There was nothing excessive about that. I can't risk something happening to him. Think about it—I was the one who proposed the whole thing in the first place. And his grandfather is the Guild Master of one of the most powerful guilds in the kingdom. I'm trying to bring them to the table. I can't afford mistakes.
[You can say all that… and it makes sense, sure,] Adi replied, his tone turning teasing. [But admit it—you just didn't want your baby brother getting hurt.]
Hamsa didn't respond and kept walking.
[You are such a tsundere, you know that?] Adi added, his tone slipping into something deliberately suggestive.
Hamsa's eye twitched.
Inside his mind, he manifested a version of himself and promptly grabbed Adi by the neck.
No hesitation.
As he continued to choke Adi—who was flailing around, trying to speak and gasping for air—Hamsa, on the other hand, was thinking—
I really hope he doesn't turn into a full-blown weeb like Raju… that would be annoying as hell.
As all of this played out inside Hamsa's head, on the outside he had already fallen back and joined Gopal and Ranapala, walking alongside them as if nothing had happened.
He listened as they talked, adding little here and there, the conversation carrying them forward without pause.
By the time they finished, they had reached the temple.
Hamsa came to a stop, his attention shifting ahead as they waited for Padmavathi to arrive.
____________________________________
Temple Complex; Padmavathi's Study Quoters.
Hamsa and Padmavathi had already begun talking. Gopal remained outside, standing near the entrance, waiting for any orders, while Ranapala stayed inside, helping move things around when needed.
"…and after a boatload of experimentation, we finally managed to make steel strong enough to handle high pressure," Padmavathi said, her eyes bright as she spoke. "It was difficult, but we did it."
She looked at him expectantly, like a child waiting to be praised.
"And now, if I can get more of this, in the right shape and size," she continued, "I can probably make a machine that does more than just whistle or move something light. And more."
Hamsa didn't respond immediately. He examined the piece of steel in his hand, then glanced at the countless scribbles spread across palm leaves and birch tablets in front of him.
This is great. Hamsa though.
[Great how? All she did was make steel with different levels of carbon.] Adi spoke in a lazy unimpressed tone.
It's great because of how she did it. With just the basics of chemistry and physics, she figured out what gives steel its properties and shaped it to suit her needs.
He turned the piece slightly in his hand.
It's like giving someone the most basic ingredients and letting them handle all the cooking without any assistance.
A brief pause.
She's probably a genius among geniuses.
[If you say so. Though what do you plan to do next?] Adi asked.
Cloths, probably.
That answer left Adi completely baffled.
But before he could question it, Hamsa's attention had already shifted back to the physical world.
"You did great." Hamsa spoke, holding the steal ingots in one hand and reading the birch tablet which was held in the other hand.
Padmavathi hearing his beamed like a child praised for their work.
"Good work. Now we move to the next step—large-scale production," Hamsa said.
"How?" Padmavathi asked immediately. There was confusion in her voice, but not from a lack of understanding—rather the opposite. She knew that what the Yuvraj meant by large scale wasn't the simple increase most would assume. Then there were deeper problems—consistency, control, failure rates.
"I have an even better question," Ranapala cut in from the side, still trying to process everything. "What is so special about these iron ingots?"
Hamsa glanced at him briefly before answering.
"To put it in simple terms you can understand," he said, "she has made something I would call steel. And the difference between these lies in how they're made. Each one has a different ratio of iron ore to other materials used during production, which directly changes their properties."
He picked one up, turning it slightly in his hand as he examined its surface.
"Take this one[1]," he said. "This one is more brittle than the others. It fractures easily under stress, so it isn't very useful on its own. But it's excellent as an intermediary—something you can refine further into better material."
He set it down and picked up another.
"This is the one we currently produce the most.[2] It's hard, holds an edge well, and works decently for tools or simple weapons. But it doesn't handle repeated impact very well, and it lacks flexibility."
Another ingot replaced it in his hand.
"This one is less hard[3], but much tougher. It can take impact and bend without breaking, which makes it useful in situations where durability matters more than sharpness. The downside—it's poor at holding an edge. And right now, it's the hardest one for us to produce consistently."
He placed it down and picked up the last one.
"This one sits in the middle[4]," he said. "Balanced. Not the hardest, not the toughest—but good enough in all aspects. Strong, reasonably flexible, and capable of holding an edge."
He paused briefly, weighing it in his hand.
"That makes it the best candidate for weapons. And also the kind we're producing the most reliably."
He placed it down with the others.
Hamsa finished explaining, and Ranapala nodded along.
Padmavathi narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Rana… did you actually understand all that, or are you just nodding for the sake of it?" she asked.
Rana? Hamsa noted quietly in his head.
Ranapala stiffened a little, a hint of embarrassment creeping onto his face.
"I know I'm not as smart as you," he said, trying to keep his composure, "but don't take me for a complete idiot."
Padmavathi ignored her man's defense. Instead, she turned back to Hamsa, her expression shifting back to focused curiosity.
"Yuvraj," she asked, "what exactly do you mean by large scale? Because even though I have not know you for long, I know you definition of LARGE SCALE isn't the large scale I'm thinking of." she added.
"What is your idea of large scale?" Hamsa asked, a light smile forming on his face.
Padmavathi didn't hesitate.
"My idea of large scale is… expanding what we already have," she said. "Multiple workshops working at the same time. Increasing output by numbers."
Hamsa's smile widened slightly.
"Come to the palace the day after tomorrow," he said.
And with that, he turned and began to walk out.
Gopal followed immediately. Ranapala did too—out of habit more than thought—until Hamsa suddenly stopped.
He turned back.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Ranapala blinked.
"What are you doing?" Hamsa said, stopping and turning back. "Get your ass back there."
Before Ranapala could react, a subtle shift in the air wrapped around him—Hamsa's mana. It wasn't violent, but it was firm. His body turned on its own, feet sliding a step back toward the room before he could even process it.
"Go spend time with her… or whatever it is you couples do."
The pressure eased as suddenly as it came.
Hamsa didn't wait for a response. He turned and continued walking, Gopal following without a word, leaving Ranapala standing there—half pushed, half stunned—facing the room he had just come out of and then entering it again.
____________________________
Two Days later; In the Mountains West of the capital.
Agnikunda.
It was located deep within the mountains, a restricted zone where only authorized personnel were allowed entry. One of the Valangar Kingdom's mana crystal mines lay here—among the richest on the continent, both in quantity and quality.
A short distance away from the main mining site, an open stretch of land had been cleared. Simple but well-maintained accommodations stood there, housing the workers and the Royal Guard unit assigned to protect the area. The presence of both ensured that the site remained functional and secure at all times.
The location itself did most of the work.
Remote. Difficult to access. Easy to monitor.
And the people here—whether miners or guards—were loyal to the Royal Family.
It was because of all this that Hamsa had chosen the place.
This was where he tested things.
New applications of his mana. Variations in combat. Ideas that didn't belong anywhere near the capital.
And more importantly—experiments that would raise questions if seen, and even more if understood.
Not that understanding them was likely without the knowledge he possessed.
But even then—he preferred not to take that risk.
A large convoy of Royal Guards arrived at the mountain site, their presence breaking the usual stillness of the place. They had come as escort for the Raja and Mahadevi.
Along with them were the Yuvraj, Mahasenapati Krishna, Gopal, Ranapala, Padmavathi, and Rajkumar Garuda.
Hamsa had tried to stop his mother from making the journey, citing her pregnancy. She had refused without much effort, and in the end, he hadn't been able to argue his way out of it.
Also accompanying them were a few skilled smiths from Padmavathi's father's workshop—men who had been directly involved in her earlier experimentation.
The convoy came to a halt near the cleared grounds. Horses were reined in, a few commands were exchanged, and the guards quickly spread out, securing the perimeter with practiced efficiency. The mountain air was cooler here, thinner, carrying the faint metallic scent from the nearby mines.
One by one, they dismounted.
Workers in the distance paused briefly, watching before returning to their tasks. The stationed guards straightened, acknowledging the arrival without breaking formation.
Hamsa didn't linger.
After a brief glance around, he made his way toward the largest structure in the area—a reinforced building set slightly apart from the rest, built more for function than comfort.
The others remained outside for the moment, waiting.
"It has been ages since I last came here," the Raja said, after dismissing his Head Guard and the Chief of the stationed unit.
Mahadevi glanced around the area before replying. "This is only my fourth time here. The other three… weren't exactly pleasant."
"That may be true," Raja Valangar said with a small smile, looking out toward the mountains, "but the beauty of this place is breathtaking every time."
The peaks stretched out in the distance, sharp and layered, the air clearer than anywhere in the capital. The faint shimmer of mana crystals could be seen in exposed rock faces farther off, catching the light in subtle flashes.
"That it is," Bhadra agreed quietly. "Though this place is a lot more lively now." She added.
They stood on what was technically a plateau, though with the surrounding peaks rising so high, it felt more like a valley carved into the mountains.
Snow covered the ground year-round, packed firm in some places and soft in others. The cold was constant, biting—but manageable. Heating throughout the settlement was maintained using mana crystals, embedded into walls and structures, giving off a steady, controlled warmth. Everything else—food, tools, supplies—had to be brought in from the outside.
Despite its isolation and importance, the place was surprisingly lively.
Off to one side, groups of workers and guards—teens and adults alike—had gathered in open spaces, playing cricket and football. Both were games Hamsa had introduced to the kingdom, and they had spread faster than expected. Nearby, others took advantage of the terrain itself—primitive forms of skiing and snowboarding, also his additions. The equipment was still rough, but functional. Hamsa had even used his mana to smooth out sections of land, making them safer for use.
It wasn't just a mining outpost.
It lived.
Further in were the workshops—far more serious in tone. These handled the processing of the ore extracted from the mines.
Mana crystals rarely came out clean. Most were embedded within ore, often mixed with other metals. The first step was simple—remove dirt and visible impurities. After that, the ore was fed into furnaces.
The process relied on a key difference.
Most metals would melt under the heat.
Mana crystals, however, required far higher temperatures to even begin melting—temperatures far beyond what their furnaces produced.
As the ore broke down, the molten metals separated and gathered away, leaving the crystals behind. What remained was then cooled and extracted.
The quality of the crystals depended heavily on this stage.
The purer they were—free of foreign metals and residue—the higher their value.
And if not—their worth dropped just as quickly.
The purity of a mana crystal directly determined how much mana it could process and how efficiently it could channel it.
Most users required what could loosely be called magic staffs—though in truth, the staff itself had little importance. It was merely a frame, a housing. The only functional component was the mana crystal embedded within it. With sufficient control, a user could bypass the staff entirely and work with the crystal directly.
The problem was—most couldn't.
Which made mana crystals extremely valuable, both to the state and to the people. Anyone training as a mana user—students, gurus, acharyas within the temples—relied on them for practice, refinement, and actual application.
Hamsa, of course, stood apart from all of this.
He didn't need a medium.
Even his younger brother, Rajkumar Garuda—whose mana circuit had been refined and modified by Hamsa to the highest possible degree—could not replicate what Hamsa did so effortlessly.
As they waited, a low tremor rolled through the ground beneath their feet.
At first it was subtle—a vibration more felt than heard.
Then—
BOOM
The sound tore through the valley, deep and thunderous, echoing off the surrounding mountains. Loose snow shook from ledges, drifting down in soft cascades. For a moment, even the air seemed to ripple.
The guards reacted instantly.
Steel shifted, boots dug into the ground, and in a matter of seconds, they had formed a tight perimeter around the Royal Family. Shields angled outward, eyes scanning the surroundings with sharp focus. Padmavathi and the smiths were pulled into the protective formation as well—exactly as Hamsa had instructed beforehand.
"What was that?" Rajkumar Garuda asked, stepping slightly closer to his parents.
"Likely something at the mine," the Raja replied, his gaze already fixed in that direction. "A collapse… or worse."
There was no panic in his voice—but there was weight.
Without waiting, Ranapala broke formation and rushed inside, moving quickly to inform Hamsa.
The seconds stretched.
The distant rumble faded, leaving behind an uneasy stillness.
By the time Hamsa stepped out, nearly a minute had passed.
And then—the sharp, rapid sound of hooves broke through the silence.
From the single wide road that connected the mines to the settlement, a group of horses came into view, sprinting at full speed. Snow kicked up behind them as they rode hard, urgency clear in every movement.
A group of men arrived shortly after, their horses barely slowing before they dismounted and rushed into one of the buildings. The tension in the air shifted—not panic, but urgency, controlled and practiced.
A few moments later, as the immediate chaos settled slightly, a tall man stepped out.
He was broad-shouldered, his presence steady despite the situation. A long scar ran across his torso, visible even beneath his clothing, and another cut across his face—one eye permanently shut because of it. The kind of scars that spoke of years spent in places like this.
The men who had arrived with him mounted their horses again and rode off at full speed, heading back toward the mines.
The man approached the Raja and bowed deeply.
"Speak," the Raja said, his voice calm but carrying unmistakable authority.
"Your Majesty," the man began, his head still lowered, "the mine has collapsed."
There was no hesitation in his words, but his remaining eye betrayed both regret and concern.
"How severe is the damage?" the Raja asked.
"From the reports I have received, Your Majesty," the man replied, "the collapse occurred in one of the newer sections. However, due to the nature of the collapse, a significant portion of the mine has become inaccessible." He lowered his head further. "I take full responsibility."
"How many remain inside?" the Raja continued. "And is there any possibility of rescue?"
"At present, Your Majesty, approximately one hundred and fifty miners are still trapped within. The majority managed to evacuate before the full collapse." He paused briefly. "As for rescue efforts… I cannot give a definite answer. We have begun evacuating the surrounding area as a precaution, but…"
A slight tightening in his expression.
"…based on my experience, their chances of survival are minimal."
A moment of silence followed.
Then—
"How long until production resumes?"
The voice came from the side.
Yuvraj Hamsa.
The man's eye widened slightly at the sudden shift in attention, but he answered without delay.
"Your Highness, based on the initial assessment, it may take several weeks—possibly one to two months—to restore operations. I will personally inspect the site and provide a more precise estimate."
Hamsa did not respond immediately.
Instead, he turned his gaze toward Gopal. The others followed.
"How far behind does this set us?" he asked.
"Several months, Your Highness," Gopal replied. "We would be required to delay over thirty percent of the planned deployment."
Hamsa absorbed that in silence.
Then he turned toward his parents.
"I request permission to lead the rescue effort and restore access to the mine, Your Majesty," he said.
His tone carried the proper respect.
But beneath it—there was a quiet finality, as if the decision had already been made, and this was merely formality.
"Brother, even with your abilities, that would be far too dangerous!" Rajkumar Garuda spoke, stepping forward despite himself.
"Garuda," Hamsa said sharply, "do not speak when your elders are."
Garuda fell silent at once, stepping back at his brother's unusually harsh tone.
The Raja's gaze shifted to Hamsa.
"And what do you intend to do?" he asked.
"Your Majesty," Hamsa replied, "I will enter the mine myself and restore access. We cannot afford a delay—not even by a week, let alone months."
To most, his tone would have sounded close to arrogance.
To the Raja—it sounded like certainty.
Indra remained silent for a moment, weighing the decision.
Then—
"Very well. Proceed," he said. "But your life comes first and foremost."
Hamsa inclined his head slightly.
A faint smile touched his lips as he turned toward his mother.
"Mahadevi," he said, his tone shifting—this time, genuinely asking, "may I use the full breadth of my abilities?"
Most present were left confused by the exchange.
To them, it sounded unnecessary. The Raja had already given permission—what more was there to ask?
But the reality was simpler.
Even if the Raja understood his son better than most, Yuvraj Hamsa was still capable of far more than he openly showed.
And of all those present—only one person had begun to grasp the full extent of it.
Mahadevi Bhadra.
Not just because of what she had witnessed recently, but because of what she had been allowed to know. The shadow agents assigned to observe Hamsa at all times reported directly to her. And through them—and through what Hamsa himself had chosen not to hide—she had seen enough to understand that what he asked now… was not a small thing.
With an audible gasp, Mahadevi Bhadra spoke.
"You may… but do not injure yourself—or anyone else," she said, her voice steady despite the weight behind it.
"Thank you, Mother," Hamsa replied, rising to his feet.
He let out a sharp whistle.
A moment later—
Chotu appeared.
The massive feline emerged from the surrounding terrain, moving with unsettling speed for something of its size. Hamsa had long since let him roam free in these mountains, and now, at his call, the beast stood beside him, calm and alert.
"Alright," Hamsa said lightly, "let's go."
His mana began to flow.
At his feet, water formed—drawn from the surrounding snow and ice, gathering and shaping itself under his control. It spread into a thin, stable layer beneath him, lifting him just slightly off the ground.
Just as he was about to move—
"Elder Brother!"
Garuda stepped forward.
"Take me with you. I can help," he said, his hands clenched, his eyes burning with determination.
Hamsa didn't hesitate.
"No. You stay here."
Garuda stiffened.
"Take care of Mother while I'm gone," Hamsa added.
"But—"
"No," Hamsa cut him off, his tone firm. "No 'ifs' or 'buts.' You're skilled in combat, not this. If you want to help, then stay here. Look after Mother. Prepare for what comes next."
A brief pause.
"I'll handle the mine… and bring them out if I can."
Garuda's expression tightened—disappointment clear.
Hamsa turned without another word.
Then—he moved.
At first glance, it looked like he was gliding.
But to those paying close attention, the truth was visible.
The thin layer of water beneath his feet shifted and flowed, carrying him forward. He wasn't walking—he was riding it, manipulating it like a moving platform. The snow and ice beneath reduced friction, allowing him to accelerate smoothly.
Like a ship cutting through a frozen sea—
Hamsa surged forward, heading straight for the mines—moving at a speed most horses would struggle to keep up with.
Chotu, however, had no such problem.
The massive feline kept pace effortlessly, bounding across the snow beside him, each stride covering ground with ease.
[1] Basically PIG IRON. High carbon concentrate at about 3%~4%.
[2] Wootz Steal or more famously know as Damascus Steal. Carbon 1.5%~2%.
[3] Low Carbon Steal. Carbon below like .3%.
[4] Medium Cardon Steal. Carbron .3%~.4%.