Chapter 76: Rudra vs Narakasura — Wrath of Bhumi Dand

Chapter 76: Rudra vs Narakasura — Wrath of Bhumi Dand

Dark clouds swirled as the Rudhira Rath streaked through the skies like a thunderbolt, tearing into the dark realm of Asur Lok. The air around it thickened with demonic presence, lightning cracking as if nature itself shivered at the oncoming war.

Rudra stood still, one hand on the chariot's edge, eyes glowing with restrained rage. Beside him, Satyabhama, now clad in a silver and gold war suit designed for both agility and grace, looked ahead, her grip firm on the side of the chariot.

"That... is Narakasura's fortress," Rudra muttered, eyes narrowing.

Ahead, the monstrous black citadel of Narakasura loomed—towers of bone, rivers of lava surrounding it, and enormous statues of the Asura carved in prideful poses. Below, an army of Rakshasa warriors, fully armed, waited with bloodlust.

Satyabhama's breath caught.

"There must be thousands..."

Rudra smirked.

"Then they should've brought more."

With a sharp whistle, Rudra leapt from the Rudhira Rath straight into the heart of the battlefield.

BOOM!

His landing created a crater, dust and demonic flesh bursting outward.

The first wave of Rakshasas charged. Tall beasts with horns, thick fangs, wielding spiked clubs and massive blades. They screamed in rage—but Rudra didn't even blink.

In one swift move, he summoned his twin blades—Samhaar, their dark edges glowing with blue flames.

CLANG! SHRRK! WHAM!

Rudra tore through the first line like a hurricane. Heads flew, bodies slammed into walls, blades shattered upon contact with his aura. A Rakshasa tried to leap on him from behind—Rudra didn't turn. His elbow cracked its skull mid-air.

Another came charging—he kicked it with such force it broke through three stone pillars.

From the skies, Satyabhama watched with awe. The calm, focused man she had seen in the darbar was now a whirlwind of fury—graceful, precise, and unstoppable. Every step he took was poetry in destruction.

A second wave of soldiers rushed in. Rudra lifted his arms.

"Rudhira Ashwa! Formation Thunder Blitz!"

From the sky, his red horses neighed and roared. The Rudhira Rath plunged down, scything through the enemy lines, releasing waves of crackling red lightning that fried hundreds in seconds.

Satyabhama leapt down now, arrows in hand. Her movements were sharp—royal training and divine instinct blending into one. She covered Rudra's flank, targeting archers and spell-casters.

"You're a fast learner," Rudra called out while slashing three demons with a single swing.

"I had a good teacher," she replied with a smirk.

A sudden roar silenced the battlefield. From the massive black gates of the fortress stepped out the demon himself—Narakasura.

He was a towering figure, ten feet tall, muscle packed on bone, clad in jagged golden armor. His eyes were blood red, and his voice was thunder.

"So... you're the mortal who dares challenge a God-son? Fool."

Rudra stepped forward, spinning his blades.

"No. I'm the king who came to end your filth."

Narakasura howled and raised his hand. From the fortress emerged monstrous beasts—winged rakshasas, serpent-men, and even fire hounds, all rushing toward Rudra.

"Satyabhama, guard the entrance. Don't let any of them escape. I'll deal with him."

She nodded and turned to hold the rear.

What followed was not a fight—it was a storm.

Rudra and Narakasura clashed with such force the very ground cracked. Samhaar blades met demon axe in flares of light. Each strike shook the walls. They leapt, collided in mid-air, blades clashing with the sound of exploding thunder.

Rudra's blows were precise, his rage balanced by years of divine training. Narakasura was wild, chaotic, but extremely powerful.

One of Narakasura's claws caught Rudra's shoulder—blood splashed.

Satyabhama gasped.

"He's... bleeding?"

But Rudra didn't flinch. He kept fighting, his face unreadable.

"Why are you bleeding? Aren't you—" she whispered.

Rudra grunted mid-fight.

"I seal my powers during combat... I fight with restraint. If I used all my divine boons, this wouldn't be a battle... just an execution. But I love the dance of combat. The challenge... the test of my resolve."

The truth hit her. Rudra was not bleeding because he was weak—but because he chose to fight like a warrior, not a god.

"You bleed... because you let yourself feel pain. You fight fair...What a Battle Maniac!"

Rudra didn't respond. He ducked under a massive blow and spun up, kicking Narakasura in the chin, sending him flying.

High above, Satyabhama was holding back spell-casters and fire beasts, firing arrow after arrow with graceful rage. One tried to attack her from behind, but her sword was drawn faster than thought. She had grown sharper in mere hours.

And yet, her eyes kept returning to Rudra.

"He fights like... like Mahadev Himself."

Narakasura, bleeding now, let out a desperate shriek. From his chest, he pulled out a black crystal and chanted a dark mantra. His body grew larger, shadowy wings sprouting, horns glowing.

"Now... DIE!"

He shot forward with god-like speed, slamming Rudra through five stone pillars.

Rudra groaned, stood up, wiped blood from his lips.

"Nice trick."

He took a deep breath. His aura expanded. The very air grew heavy. He twirled Samhaar in his hands, and suddenly, both blades merged into one long, crackling polearm.

He stabbed the end into the earth and whispered.

"O Earth, give me your justice. Let your fury rise."

The ground rumbled. From it, rose a divine spear—Bhumi Dand. Golden-brown in color, its shaft carved with sacred symbols. It glowed like the morning sun.

Rudra turned to Satyabhama.

"This weapon isn't mine. It was always yours."

She stared.

"Mine?"

"You are Bhudevi's incarnation. Only you can end him."

Satyabhama looked at the spear. Her hands trembled as she took it. A strange warmth filled her—the feeling of purpose.

She turned to Narakasura, now charging again. She planted her foot. Lifted the spear.

"For Bhudevi. For justice. For the girls you imprisoned."

And she threw it.

The spear flew like a ray of the sun. Narakasura's eyes widened.

THWACK!

Bhumi Dand pierced straight into his chest.

The demon roared. His body convulsed. Dark energy exploded outward—then faded.

And finally—he fell.

Narakasura was dead.

Silence returned to the battlefield. The sky cleared.

Rudra walked forward, stood beside Satyabhama. She looked at him, tears in her eyes—not of fear, but of release.

"You gave me the strength. You believed in me."

Rudra looked away for a moment, then smiled faintly.

"Sometimes... faith is all we need."

Behind them, the dark fortress began to crumble. But as the walls fell, a massive underground door opened, revealing a sea of pale faces.

The 16,100 princesses, kidnapped and caged, now stood in silence, trembling, their chains broken.

Satyabhama gasped.

"They... they were real."

Rudra nodded, his face grim.

"Yes. And now... we must decide their fate."

The girls looked at their saviors—some cried, some fell to their knees, others simply stared in disbelief.

But Rudra's face had changed. The fire of battle was gone. Now, the burden of responsibility remained.

And thus began a new challenge—not of war, but of compassion.

Chapter Ends.