Chapter 88: A Price for the Truth

The historian's fingers trembled as he pressed the smaller book into Satya's hands. "Take it and run." His voice was urgent, his aged eyes filled with determination.

Footsteps thundered closer. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows through the passage.

Satya shook his head. "We can all escape together."

The historian gave a sad smile. "No, my boy. I have spent my life chasing ghosts. You and Saanvi—you are the ones who must carry the truth forward."

Saanvi clutched Satya's arm. "We can't leave you behind."

But there was no time to argue. The door at the far end of the chamber burst open. Jayant's men flooded in.

"Go!" The historian grabbed a rusted sword from the wall, its blade dull but still lethal. "I will hold them."

Aryan pulled Satya back. "We need to move. Now!"

The passage was narrow. A hidden tunnel behind a crumbling bookshelf led deeper underground. Virendra pushed it open, revealing a dark stairway.

Satya hesitated, looking back. The historian stood tall, unwavering.

Jayant entered the chamber, his cold gaze locking onto them. "You can't run forever, Satya."

The historian gave them one last look before charging forward, swinging the blade. It was a reckless move—he was no warrior. But it gave them seconds.

Seconds were all they needed.

Satya clenched his jaw, then turned and ran. Saanvi, Aryan, and Virendra followed.

Behind them, a clash of metal rang out, followed by a sharp, pained cry. Then—silence.

Satya didn't need to turn around to know what had happened.

The old man had given his life for them.

The stairway twisted downward into the darkness. Satya gripped the book tightly, his heart heavy. The truth had come at a cost.

But they were still alive. And now, they had the final piece of the puzzle.

And they would not stop until they unraveled the last secret Veer Meghawal had left behind.