When the Snake Shows Its Fangs

The world didn't know it yet, but something had shifted.

That night, when Priyanshu Yadav walked away from the shattered Court of Echoes with the third thread of the Primordial Serpent pulsing through his veins, a silent message echoed through the layers of power:

The one you feared is no longer sleeping.He's awake.And he remembers everything.

—

Inside the palace, alarms had not yet sounded, but the tension had begun to rise like smoke before a fire.

The royal astrologers complained of trembling stars.

The beast masters said their sacred tigers refused to eat.

And deep in the underground record halls, one of the Silent Oracles collapsed in his chair.

"He passed all three."

The others turned toward him.

The old man's voice cracked.

"He didn't flinch. He didn't hesitate. He didn't become what we feared."

"Then what did he become?"

The oracle looked up, and in his eyes was a rare thing—dread.

"He became what we can't predict."

—

At Dark Heaven's base, Priyanshu sat alone in a sealed meditation chamber, surrounded by threads of ancient energy.

His body was still, but inside, power flowed like a tidal wave.

Three awakened threads.

Three secrets unlocked.

And yet... he felt no pride.

Because this wasn't victory.

This was just the door opening.

Anaya entered silently, placing a scroll beside him.

"It's official. The Emperor's third son has summoned the Royal Tribunal. They're trying to brand you as a rogue bloodline holder."

Priyanshu opened his eyes.

"They want to make it look like I'm a threat."

"Are you not?"

He smiled faintly.

"I am."

—

The Royal Tribunal was no ordinary courtroom.

It wasn't about justice.

It was about image.

About power.

About sending a message.

And now, they wanted to send one with Priyanshu's name on it.

He was summoned not as a criminal—but as a "matter of concern."

It was their way of saying: We can still control you.

But Priyanshu didn't play those games.

He flipped the board.

—

Three days later, he walked into the Tribunal Hall not like a suspect—but like a storm given legs.

The nobles filled the tiered seats, robes flowing, mouths sharp, eyes full of arrogance.

The Emperor's third son stood at the highest platform, arms folded, smiling like he'd already won.

"Priyanshu Yadav," he announced, "you are here today to answer for the chaos caused by your unverified bloodline and recent disruptions. We do not accuse you... we invite you to submit for inspection."

Everyone turned toward Priyanshu, waiting to see what he would say.

He said nothing.

Instead, he reached into his robe.

Pulled out something.

And tossed it into the center of the tribunal floor.

A mask.

One of the Silent Oracle's golden masks.

The room froze.

That mask was only worn by those who served the throne in secret. It was never supposed to leave the inner sanctum.

But here it was.

Covered in dried blood.

The Emperor's son narrowed his eyes.

"What is this?"

"A warning," Priyanshu said.

A chill passed through the room.

"I found this after someone tried to poison me at your banquet. It belonged to one of your own shadows."

The nobles gasped.

The prince's jaw tightened.

"You're making wild accusations."

"I don't make accusations. I expose intentions."

He stepped forward, voice calm but sharp.

"You dragged me here to tame me. To remind me that power still bows to the throne."

He looked up at the nobles.

"But I don't bow. I never have. I never will."

Murmurs broke out. A few stood up in protest. One shouted, "You dare threaten the Tribunal?!"

Priyanshu raised a hand.

And the system responded.

[Skill Activated: Absolute Reflection – Duration 3 seconds]

Every emotion in the room—the anger, the fear, the superiority—snapped back at its sources.

Nobles fell to their knees, clutching their hearts.

Others looked lost, disoriented, confused, like they'd stared too long into a mirror showing their worst selves.

Only the prince stood tall, barely.

"You think this makes you untouchable?" he hissed.

"No," Priyanshu replied. "This makes me something worse."

He leaned forward.

"Unforgettable."

—

That night, every major clan, sect, and hidden organization received the same report:

"The Primordial Serpent walks free.""He challenged the Tribunal.""They didn't silence him.They survived him."

Some laughed.

Some panicked.

Some started planning his death.

But one person—an old man living in exile at the edge of the Eastern Marsh—smiled for the first time in decades.

He whispered, "My bloodline lives."

Then, he stood.

And called back his exiled disciples.

—

Meanwhile, back in the capital, Priyanshu didn't return to the base.

He walked the silent streets alone.

No guards.

No followers.

Just him, the night, and a weight lifting off his chest.

He had declared war without saying it.

And no one could pretend anymore.

He wasn't a pawn.

He wasn't a mistake.

He was the villain they created, the hero they ignored, and the king they feared—all in one.

—

Back at Dark Heaven, Tanya, Zarek, Anaya, and Reaper waited.

When Priyanshu entered, Zarek let out a low whistle.

"You actually did it. You slapped the Tribunal in the face and walked out clean."

"Not clean," Priyanshu said. "Just… noticed."

Tanya tilted her head. "What happens now?"

"Now?" he said, walking to the map.

He picked up a silver pin and stabbed it into the southern region.

"We stop reacting."

Anaya frowned. "Meaning?"

"We stop waiting for their moves."

He stabbed another pin into the Eastern Border.

"We hit first. We disrupt alliances. Break supply chains. Recruit silently. Every move we make should create five shadows."

Zarek smirked. "You want a war."

Priyanshu looked at them.

"I want a world where people like me don't have to wear masks just to survive."

He turned back to the map.

"And if I have to burn this one to build it, I won't hesitate."

—

In the palace, the Emperor's third son poured wine and watched the flickering candlelight with a scowl.

His advisor entered quietly.

"He escaped political assassination."

"I know."

"The people are beginning to idolize him."

"I know."

The advisor hesitated. "Should we declare him an enemy of the state?"

The prince stared at the wine.

"No. That will make him a martyr."

"Then what?"

The prince's eyes turned cold.

"We make him bleed."

—

But what they didn't know…

Was that Priyanshu had already planned for that.

Because now, with three threads awakened, his next move wasn't defense.

It was expansion.

One word echoed in his system:

[Next Phase Unlocked: Rise of the Coiled Empire]

And in that moment, he smiled.

Because a villain never dreams of peace.

He dreams of control.

And he was done dreaming.