Chapter 34

The cold morning air curled like silver mist between the ancient trees as Madhav, Mohit, Meera, Centaur Beni, and Ketaki quietly moved through the dense forest. The ground was soft beneath their feet, muffled by fallen leaves and moss, while the faint songs of forest birds echoed through the towering woods.

Ketaki walked ahead, her sharp eyes scanning the path as shafts of golden sunlight broke through the canopy above. Then, all of a sudden, she slowed — her voice soft but edged with emotion.

"Look… we've arrived," Ketaki whispered, glancing over her shoulder.

Madhav, Mohit, Meera, and Centaur Beni stepped forward, their eyes widening at the breathtaking sight before them. Sprawled across the clearing lay the village of the black Shadow Elves.

It was unlike anything they had ever seen.

The settlement blended seamlessly with nature. Huts were built into the earth, their roofs covered with vines and flowers. Some homes perched high on massive tree branches, connected by wooden bridges woven from forest vines. The air carried the scent of wild herbs and blooming forest lilies.

Elves moved gracefully throughout the village. Men and women dressed in dark forest-leathers, and children laughed softly as they played near the roots of ancient trees. Some elves tended fields of rare herbs and crops, while others practiced archery, swordplay, mystical arts and magic , their hands glowing faintly with the energy of the forest.

Mohit let out a low whistle. "Whoa… I never thought their world would look like this… it's like I've entered some kind of dream."

Meera's eyes softened with wonder. "It's beautiful… it feels like the forest itself protects them."

Hearing Meera's words, Madhav replied, "Yes, you're right. It's like Mother Nature is also helping them."

Centaur Beni crossed his arms, muttering under his breath. "Hmph… for outcasts, they've built something strong here…"

Ketaki moved ahead, her pace steady but her heart wary. As she walked deeper into her home, the other Shadow Elves began to notice her. Their curious eyes fell not only on her but also on the outsiders who trailed behind her.

Whispers spread like wind through the trees.

"Who are they?"

"Humans… and a Centaur?"

"Why are they coming towards us?"

"Why has Ketaki brought them here?"

Madhav, Mohit, Meera, and Centaur Beni followed her closely, every step drawing them further into mystery and closer to the truth buried deep within the heart of the Shadow Elf clan.

Ketaki's voice rang out quietly as she turned to them. "Stay close. My people are not quick to trust outsiders, and after everything that has happened, words alone may not be enough." All looked at Ketaki's face.

Here, Madhav nodded. "I understand, Ketaki. But I'm ready."

Suddenly, one young elf boy, alert and swift, sprinted ahead — his feet barely touching the ground. He rushed toward a small temple crafted entirely from tree branches, flowering vines, and emerald leaves — nature itself shaped the sanctuary. Within, seated cross-legged before an idol of Aranyani — the Forest Goddess — was a powerful figure.

A broad-shouldered elf warrior, his body sculpted like ancient stone, sat in deep meditation. His aura was calm — but it held the strength of thunder waiting to awaken.

Meanwhile, Madhav's eyes wandered around the village, marveling. High above, in the giant trees, he saw creatures unlike anything he had seen before — Vanaspati Vanaras — plant-monkeys with leafy fur and vines wrapping around their limbs, swinging effortlessly between branches.

Mohit nudged him. "Bro… are those real plant monkey?" he whispered.

Madhav nodded in awe. "Looks like it… "

But their moment of wonder was cut short.

From the heart of the village, a group of elder Shadow Elves approached — their faces etched with wisdom and hardened by years of sorrow. At their center walked the Chief of the Shadow Elves — an imposing figure with braided silver hair, sharp forest-green eyes, and a staff carved from ancient wood.

His gaze landed sharply on Ketaki… then shifted toward the outsiders.

"Ketaki," the Chief's voice rumbled like distant thunder, "what am I seeing? Humans… in our sacred village? And a Centaur among them? Have you forgotten the pain outsiders brought upon us?"

Centaur Beni snorted, crossing his arms. "Watch your words, Elder. Respect is not one-sided — even the forest teaches balance." Here chief and other ignore his words.

Ketaki lowered herself respectfully, her voice steady but heavy. "Chief Arvell… I would never bring them here unless the matter was grave.

The other elves murmured among themselves.

Chief Arvell narrowed his eyes.

Ketaki opened her mouth to speak — but before she could, Madhav stepped forward with quiet determination.

"Wait, Ketaki… let me speak for myself." His voice was sad.

The wind stilled as every eye turned to the human boy.

Slowly, Madhav reached into his pocket, pulling out the ancient, small box. It shimmered faintly under the forest light, almost as if it breathed with its own cursed life.

The moment the Chief's eyes fell upon it, his face darkened.

He whispered, his voice cold and sharp, "What is this?" Here, Madhav opened the small wooden box. A coin was inside, and he replied, "I have the golden curse coin."

The elder elves' faces hardened — their ancient eyes wide in disbelief and buried rage. Whispers rose swiftly among the gathered villagers — voices laced with fear, hatred, and sorrow.

"Is that... the cursed coin?"

"Impossible... after so many years..."

Children clung to their mothers. Warriors instinctively placed their hands on their weapons. The forest itself seemed to quiet — even the wind slowing to hear the unfolding moment.

Chief Arvell took a single step forward — his piercing eyes locked onto the coin in Madhav's hand. His voice was like the rustling of ancient leaves — calm, but dangerous beneath the surface.

"How...?" the Chief asked, his tone sharp with a storm of emotions. "How does a human boy like you get that cursed coin? When... and from where did you bring this evil into our lands?"

The tension around Madhav was suffocating, but his heart remained steady.

He took a deep breath, his voice carrying both guilt and truth.

"As you can see, this is the real curse coin... the very one stolen long ago." And

"It was stolen by my great-grandfather," Madhav said, his voice hollow with regret. "Out of greed. Out of ignorance."

Suddenly, From the shadows of the temple woven of roots and vines, a figure emerged — his footsteps silent but his presence sharp as a blade.

He was an elf warrior — tall, with a body carved by battle, muscles hardened like ironwood bark, his long dark hair tied back, his sharp emerald eyes burning with fury. His chest bore the symbol of Aranyani — Goddess of Forest Life — yet his heart burned with anger far deeper than devotion.

Before anyone could react, he moved like the wind.

Thhhwack!

A heavy fist crashed straight across Madhav's face — so sudden, so forceful — that Madhav's body spun mid-air before falling hard to the ground, dust rising around him.

"Madhav!" Meera shouted, running two steps forward, fear clutching her voice.

Mohit clenched his fists. "Who the hell is this guy? And why is he trying to interrupt?"

Centaur Beni just shook his head grimly, muttering, "I knew these village elves wouldn't welcome the truth with flowers..."

The elf warrior stood over Madhav like a storm, his sharp voice breaking the tension like a blade.

"So! That theft was your great-grandfather's — and you are his family member — who stole the golden curse coin! And now why you've brought this coin into our village. And how do you dare stand here?

Madhav, tasting blood on his lips, slowly raised his head — his eyes steady, not with pride, but resolve.

"I came here because I know the weight of that sin. When I got information what happened to you and your people from Ketaki words. That's why I'm here," Madhav whispered.

The elf snarled.

Elf warrior said, "Enough of this!" the warrior roared. "Chief! Why waste breath on him? Why let poison speak when we can cleanse it with death?!"

He turned towards Chief Arvell, fury rising with every word.

"Why are you showing mercy when our people were shown none? When the Forest Elves pointed fingers at us—blamed us when the golden curse coin was stolen—did they think that our people would try to steal the White Lotus? Our Black Shadow Elf villages also respect that Lotus as much as other magical creatures do. They didn't even wait for our explanation—they brought death and destroyed our also homes!"

Silence followed — a silence heavy with old wounds.

Chief Arvell's ancient voice broke through — firm like the roots of an ancient tree. He addressed the elf warrior.

"Ankur..." the Chief began, his wise eyes narrowed, "We are Shadow Elves—guardians of the forest, not wild beasts. A crime has been committed, and it must be brought to light. We cannot ignore it without understanding the heart of the matter."

Ankur gritted his teeth — veins swelling with rage — but he obeyed his Chief's command for now.

Yet, as Madhav tried to sit up, wiping the blood from his lips and attempting to speak slowly he say, "I understand how you feel now, because I also lost someone important to me,"

Ankur's fury boiled over. Suddenly, without hesitation, he stormed toward Madhav again his powerful legs moving like a stormwind and before anyone could stop him.

Thud! Thud!

Brutal kicks slammed into Madhav's ribs and stomach — each strike carrying the weight of generations of pain.

"You know nothing of our pain, human!" Ankur roared. "Now, you will feel it!"

Madhav coughed, blood staining the earth. Yet, even in agony, his hand gripped the cursed coin tightly.

Meera's heart raced like never before. The sound of Ankur's merciless kicks slamming into Madhav's body echoed through the village clearing — like drums of war against fragile hope.

"Madhav!" Mohit shouted, panic rising in his chest. He made a desperate step forward, but a firm hand caught his shoulder.

It was Ketaki—her face calm but tense, her silver eyes full of hidden pain.

"Don't!" she whispered sharply. "You will only get hurt—this is not a fight meant for outsiders."

Centaur Beni snorted, his hooves scraping the ground in anger. His powerful arms flexed.

"Enough words! And I am no outsider; this is my village, and I will handle this, elf girl," he growled. "I will tear through these forest fools myself!"

But Ketaki stepped in front of him, her voice like a warning wind.

"Please... if you value your friend's life... do not interfere. You can't understand Ankur's rage."

Mohit clenched his fists helplessly. "But he's going to kill Madhav!"

And just then—a deeper terror struck Meera.

Using her skill—listening to other people's thoughts—she trembled like never before.

She could hear Ankur's mind.

"Kill him... crush the bloodline of the thief... let this human die beneath my feet..."

Meera's eyes widened in horror.

"No! Please—stop! Don't kill him!" she screamed.

She tried to step forward, but Ketaki's hand was still there, now trembling slightly.

Here , Ketaki herself had taken a step towards Ankur—desperation burning in her eyes.

"Brother Ankur!" she called out. "Enough! Stop this! Chief—please—stop him!"

But the Chief of the Shadow Elves stood like an stone.

His voice, though calm, carried bitter weight.

"This is no longer in our hands, child. "

And there—in that storm of pain and silence—Ankur raised his leg once more. The strength behind it seemed capable of breaking bones, even ending a life. Despite his own pain, Madhav observed the other elves present, their expressions showing support for the warrior Ankur.

But then, suddenly, Madhav moved, dodging the attack with quick, sharp movements—not like an untrained boy, but like a fighter who had learned to survive. Despite being bruised and shaking, his hands snapped up, grabbing Ankur's leg mid-air.

Here, Chief Arvell , Ketaki and the other elves around the village widened their eyes in shock when they saw Madhav grabbed Ankur's leg. Then, just as Madhav's grip twisted with surprising strength—

Thud!

Ankur's balance broke, and his powerful frame staggered back.

And in that heartbeat of opportunity, Madhav rose from the bloodied ground, his body screaming in pain—and with all his strength...

In that moment of imbalance, Ankur fell backward.

Swhoosh!

A surprise punch shot forward by madhav—clean, fierce, and fueled not by hate, but by resolve.

The blow struck Ankur's jaw, forcing him back a step, his long hair whipping in the forest wind.

Silence.

The entire village froze—even the wind seemed to halt. Mohit, in his excitement, exclaimed, "Nice punch!" Meera visibly relaxed after seeing what had happened. The Centaur said, "Son, you're a truly tough person to endure so many injuries." All the while, the elves watched the human boy stand wounded but unbroken.

Madhav's chest heaved, blood dripping from his lips, but his eyes never wavered. "I am not here to fight you," he said hoarsely. "But I won't die before I find treatment for my friend Raj...

Ankur's lips curled into a sharp, wild grin — the kind only a born warrior knew.

"Hah..." he chuckled darkly, wiping the faint trail of blood from the corner of his mouth. His eyes gleamed — not just with anger now — but excitement. The thrill of battle ran in his veins like fire.

"So... human," Ankur's voice rumbled like distant thunder, "you caught me off guard once... impressive. But let me make one thing clear..."

He stepped forward, his presence towering like an ancient tree.

"I was just getting started."

The villagers of the Shadow Elves—warriors, hunters, children of the forest—all stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief. Never before had they seen an outsider withstand Ankur for this long—Ankur, the fiercest warrior of their tribe.

Madhav, panting heavily, wiped the blood trickling down his brow. His body ached with pain — his muscles screamed for rest — but his spirit burned brighter than before.

"Come then," Madhav said with grit in his voice, steadying himself, "let's finish what you started."

With a roar, Ankur lunged — his speed this time like a shadow splitting the air.

What followed was no ordinary fight — it was like watching two storms collide.

Ankur's strikes rained down like hammer blows—sharp, precise, and brutal.

Here , Madhav moved on instinct, blocking, weaving, and countering with all the skill his master arts and basic fighting allowed. Every movement echoed with desperation; every dodge was a breath stolen from death.

Their fight tore through the clearing — cracking stones beneath their feet, splintering wood, sending leaves and dust spiraling into the air.

Mohit, Meera, Centaur — and even Ketaki — watched with held breath.

"Incredible..." Mohit whispered. And Meera in worry and thinking about madhav injury.

"Madhav... he's fighting like a warrior of old," Centaur muttered, a rare note of respect in his voice.

Minutes felt like hours — until finally, both fighters stood apart — chests heaving, sweat and blood dripping from their bodies.

Neither had fallen.

Neither had given in.

A draw.

Madhav dropped to one knee, exhausted beyond words. His vision blurred — but his spirit stood tall.

Ankur stood still — his hand tightening around his wooden stick — but then... he slowly lowered it.

"Hah..." he exhaled, his wild grin returning. "You're still standing... human."

He walked a few steps closer, towering above Madhav.

"Let me tell you one thing..." Ankur said, his tone both harsh and oddly approving, "I haven't even used my full strength."

Meanwhile… far from the wild forests of the Shadow Elves, in the heart of Kamal's grand villa—a different kind of training was taking place.

The evening sun spilled golden light, casting long shadows across the marble courtyard where Anika stood, her eyes sharp with focus.

Crouched low and watchful before her was the Da-Tan.

A strange, magical creature, its glowing eyes never leaving Anika.

Beside her, a middle-aged servant of Kamal—a hunched man with wisdom etched into his face—spoke patiently.

"Listen carefully, Lady Anika," he instructed, his voice as calm as flowing water. "Da-Tan does not follow strength... First, you have to focus."

Than he said, "First, give the Da-Tan a specific type of signal, like a whistle by using mouth , a clap, or whatever special signal you prefer."

Anika said, "Okay," then whistled sharply and clearly. The sound cut through the silence like a call.

The Da-Tan twitched, its body shifting ever so slightly, its ears pricking forward.

"Good, you will learn slowly," the middle-aged servant smiled faintly. "Now, after that, you have to speak your command. Speak with certainty and belief about its purpose." And when the Da-Tan changes its appearance—at that time, from a small creature to a big, monster-like one—you must not be scared," he continued. "And when the Da-Tan completes your task, then you have to give it a carrot as a reward. Here, the carrot represents loyalty between you and them."