Chapter 63: Karna's Challenge Ignites the Arena
Guru Dronacharya stood at the center of Hastinapur's grand arena, his white robes billowing in the soft breeze, his voice echoing across the stone walls. "People of Hastinapur! Witness the triumph of my most brilliant disciple! Arjun's skill is unmatched—no archer in Bharatvarsh can rival him! I declare him Sarvashreshtha Dhanurdhar, the greatest archer!"
Thunderous applause erupted. "Arjun! Dhananjay!" the crowd cried. Dushala clapped joyfully. "Arjun bhaiya, you're a star!"
Nobles and ministers exchanged pleased glances. Vidur's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, while Dhritarashtra nodded with a broad, approving smile. But not everyone shared the joy. Shakuni's fingers twitched on his dice, his smile stretched thin. If Arjun grows into a symbol of unity... all my plans will crumble, he thought.
Among the common folk, Anupriya held Rudra's arm, her eyes bright with admiration. "Shiva, he's incredible. The greatest archer ever!"
Rudra—disguised in his humble form as Shiva, the shilpkaar—didn't respond. A brooding frown lined his face. His Trikal Drishti had shown him the truth: Drona had trained Arjun extensively in divine astras but deliberately withheld Shakti Vidya—the supreme art of channeling divine Prana into any weapon—from others. Rudra's heart knew Drona's reason wasn't just favoritism; it had deeper reason into it, but it does not justify his act of putting his students in dark.
Bhishma, seated near the royal dais, clenched his fists. The fury in his heart mirrored Rudra's. Unlike Drona, Bhishma had truly earned his place as Parshuram's disciple and had been entrusted with Shakti Vidya. Drona had begged for astras, but Bhishma had earned them. The injustice burned.
In the stands, Vijay Raj Pratap—Mahishmati's Silver Lion—tensed. with him, three disguised figures watched the arena in silence: Ishita, Karna, and Eklavya. Their instincts screamed that something was amiss.
Bhishma murmured, "Stop, Acharya. One more word and you'll call down a storm."
His warning proved prophetic.
Suddenly, a golden arrow blazed from the crowd, slicing cleanly through the icy cage of Arjun's Him Astra. Duryodhan, freed, collapsed to his knees, stunned and gasping. The audience erupted in shock.
Drona froze. He had been so focused on Arjun that he had forgotten Duryodhan's condition.
Then, a sharp voice pierced the stunned silence. "Sarvashreshtha Dhanurdhar? On what grounds, Acharya?"
Heads turned.
A young man stepped forward from the commoner's rows. His skin glowed like copper in the sun, his eyes burned with a fire that demanded attention. Dressed in modest garments, he carried the Dagdh Surya Dhanush—Rudra's divine bow. Whispers spread. Who was he?
But a few already knew.
Bhishma stiffened. Krishna's eyes narrowed with interest. Subhadra sat upright. For this was Radhey Karna, Rudra's disciple, the Surya Veer.
Karna's voice rang out, confident and piercing. "You call Arjun the greatest, Acharya? Have you tested every archer in Bharat? Did you measure the strength of Mahishmati's warriors—Guru Parshuram—or even Bhishma of Hastinapur—before making that claim?"
Drona's face tightened. "This is a warrior's discussion, boy. Name your lineage before questioning your betters."
Karna laughed—a laugh full of both warmth and challenge. "Lineage? Caste? If a normal Brahmin asked, I would answer without hesitation. But you, son of Rishi Bharadwaj, ask it as a gatekeeper. Tell me—where in the Vedas is it written that truth bows before caste? Which scripture dares to divide souls by varna?"
The arena held its breath.
"I am Radhey Karna, son of Adhiratha the charioteer. My blood is red like yours. The crops of this land feed me. The rivers cool me. The gods have never asked my caste before blessing me. Tell me, Acharya, does Mahadev discriminate among his devotees?"
Gandhari gasped. Dhritarashtra's frown turned to smile. Dushala whispered, "Who is he?"
Karna stepped further into the ring. "You say Arjun is supreme. Did you test Bhishma? Did you face Parshuram's arrows? Did you measure Rudra's strength? Or did you simply decide?"
Arjun stepped forward, Bow in hand. "Karna, speak with respect. I earned this through training, not favoritism."
Karna's gaze didn't waver. "Earned? Or gifted? Why couldn't Duryodhan resist your astra? Ask your guru what he withheld."
Bheem stomped forward. "Mind your tongue, stranger! Arjun fought fairly. Don't whine just because you weren't chosen."
Karna smirked. "Fairly? And yet Duryodhan was taught like a foot soldier. Ask Dronacharya why he feared sharing Shakti Vidya."
Kripacharya stood, voice calm but stern. "Enough. You insult a guru in Hastinapur's court? Show some restraint."
Karna bowed slightly. "I ask only for clarity. If Drona had faced the warriors of Mahishmati—would his judgment be the same?"
In the stands, Vijay Raj Pratap leaned toward Bhishma. "Karna speaks for us all. There are still many warriors in Bharatvarsh who can rival the current Arjun."
Bhishma's silence was thunderous. "If I spoke, it would dishonor the Kurus. But Drona's bias is a wound we all see."
Readers, this anger in Karna, Rudra, Bhishma—it burns from betrayal.
Shakti Vidya, born from the Rishi Bharadwaj lineage, allowed divine astras to be channeled through any weapon. Parshuram once wielded it through his Bhargavastra, destroying even the mighty Kartavirya Arjun. Drona, however, passed on divine astras to Arjun alone. Others—Duryodhan, Yudhishthir, Bheem and Others—were forbid access to that secret knowledge of Shakti Vidya to counter Divine Astra. Thus, Their true potential remained shackled.
Dronacharya stood red-faced. A mix of pride, shame, and fury warred within him. To admit his bias would shatter his legacy. But silence only deepened the cut.
Karna stood defiantly, bow blazing under the sun. All of Hastinapur watched in awe, unsure if they had witnessed rebellion—or the first winds of a coming storm.
The fire was lit.
And destiny was watching.