chapter 4:The Weight of Power

Chapter 4 – The Weight of Power Ashvattha Chronicles

The ground shook.

Cracks spread like lightning across the marble tiles under Tarun's feet, and a wave of invisible force rushed outward, slamming into everything around the gate like a silent storm. The wind seemed to still, caught in the sheer weight of the aura now flooding the courtyard.

For a moment, it was like the world had forgotten how to breathe.

Aryan staggered back a step, wide-eyed. He'd never felt this kind of pressure before. It wasn't wild or out of control ,it was calm. Controlled. Yet it pressed down like a mountain, steady and crushing.

"U-Uncle…?" he whispered.

Even the butler, who had confidently moved to strike Prateek a second ago, took a shaky step back. His eyes widened as realization struck.

"A… Prime Rank Yodhak?" he muttered under his breath. "He's Prime?"

It didn't make sense. The butler himself was no weakling—he stood at the peak of Crest rank, just one step away from reaching Prime. Yet the pressure he now felt… it was overwhelming. It was like standing beneath a thundercloud, knowing the next flash of lightning could erase you.

All around them, murmurs rose from the other students and nobles.

"Who is that man?"

"He's not just some guardian…"

"Did you see how easily he stopped the butler?"

Tarun took a step forward, and even that tiny movement made the butler flinch. His voice, however, remained steady and soft.

"We're not here to fight," he said. "This is just the entrance exam. Let it go."

The calm tone made his words even more terrifying.

But Prince Shivam of the Agniraaj Rajya wasn't about to back down. His pride had taken a hit, and in front of so many people, that wasn't something he could swallow.

"You dare threaten the Agniraaj Rajya?" he shouted. "Do you think we don't have monsters of our own? One message, and I'll summon warriors who'll crush you!"

Tarun didn't even blink. His eyes met Shivam's, completely unshaken.

"By the time they arrive…" Tarun said, his tone dropping slightly, "you'll be nothing more than a pile of shattered bones. A corpse that hasn't realized it's dead yet."

The words hit like a blade dipped in ice. Shivam opened his mouth to respond—but nothing came out. His face twisted with frustration. Deep down, something in him knew Tarun wasn't bluffing.

Just then, a soft voice cut through the tension.

"That's enough."

All eyes turned as Princess Shreya of the Jala Rajya stepped forward. Her presence, calm and composed, felt like a gentle wave after a raging fire. Her silver hair swayed with grace, and her pale blue eyes held no fear.

"Shivam," she said firmly, "he merely looked at me. Don't turn it into something it's not."

Then she looked at Prateek.

"I didn't sense any ill intent from him," she said. "Let it go."

For a moment, Shivam just stood there. His pride, his anger, and his embarrassment all battled inside his chest. But in the end, he couldn't argue with her—not publicly. He turned sharply, robes flaring behind him, and stormed away without another word.

Silence lingered for a moment longer… and then the courtyard slowly returned to life. The pressure faded. Students began whispering, glancing at Tarun like he was some kind of legend.

Aryan finally exhaled.

"Uncle… you're that strong?" he asked, half in awe.

Tarun scratched the back of his head, suddenly awkward. "I used to be stronger. Now I just try not to make a mess."

Abhishek let out a laugh. "Are you kidding me? That was awesome! I think half the girls here just fell in love with you."

"Even the boys," Ayush added, grinning.

Tarun blushed faintly as the group burst into laughter. Even Prateek managed a weak smile, still shaken but grateful.

But not everyone had returned to normal.

Hidden behind a pillar, a shadowy figure watched the scene with sharp eyes. He crossed his arms and smirked.

"Still causing trouble, are we, Tarun?" he muttered. "Some things never change…"

And with a shimmer of light, he vanished into the wind.

The commotion at the gate settled down as the large group of applicants moved forward.

Eventually, the gates of Ashvattha Vidya Mandala began to creak open.

But this time… they didn't.

They remained shut.

Instead, a smaller side gate opened—revealing a wide path lined with floating lanterns. The students were guided inside one group at a time.

Tarun handed over their entry parchments, and Aryan's group finally stepped past the threshold.

What lay beyond was… breathtaking.

The inner courtyard opened into a massive training ground that looked more like an ancient arena. Giant stone pillars rose into the sky, covered in vines that glowed with soft light. Thousands of students gathered in circular tiers, buzzing with nerves and excitement.

In the center stood a glowing spiritual stone, taller than a man, pulsing with a soft bluish light. Surrounding it was a wide, raised platform. Floating above it was a figure clad in layered robes that shifted like mist and fire.

The Branch Master of the Ashvattha Vidya Mandala – Indranagar Branch.

His presence alone calmed the noise like a whisper over thunder.

"Welcome," the man said, his voice magically projected across the arena. "You stand at the gates of destiny. Today, your spirits will be tested. Your Vidyas will be measured. And your will… will be revealed."

Aryan looked around, his excitement boiling beneath his skin.

"Guess this is where the real story begins," he whispered.

But back at the gate, not everyone had moved.

The larger golden gate still hadn't opened.

A crowd of nobles, students, and onlookers remained frozen, their eyes not on the academy, but on the man who had caused the silence.

Tarun.

The tension in the air hadn't faded it had only grown heavier.

And the butler… still stood frozen, staring at him.

His fists clenched. His pride burned.

The pressure wasn't gone.

No…

It was only building.

Because what had happened today wasn't the end of a confrontation

It was the beginning.