Chapter 77: Chapter 75: Lord Answer’s The Call... Kamsa’s Death....
(A/N):
Drop a
here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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Kamsa never got the chance to beg for rcy.
The mont fear ford—It was too late.
A clawed hand seized his leg. And the world turned violent for him.
-THUD. -THUD. -THUD.
-THUD. -THUD....
He slamd into the ground.
Left... Right... Again... Again...
The earth cracked beneath each impact—Like it couldn’t bear witness.
-Cracks!
Then—Devara spun the Kamsa in his hand as if he was about to throw out a garbage.
Like a broken vase.
And was hurled—Into the sky before the eyes of everyone who were watching.
"-Ahhhhhh!!!"
A scream followed him—Before he vanished into the sky.
For a heartbeat—The battlefield froze still the war is already over now.
Then—Devara moved now since he had thew Kamsa.
He took Two steps. Then A leap.
Gone vanishing into the sky at the sa direction Kamsa has been thrown earlier.
The remaining soldiers—Dropped everything in their hand.
Weapons clattered all the will to fight has already vanished to thin air.
Knees hit the ground one after another.
Because they understood now—This was not a war they could survive.
anwhile...
Far away—In Mathura...
The sky answered as a figure fell from it.
It was none other than Kamsa who fell.
Through the rooftops. Through the walls. Through the stone.
Buildings shattered around by the impact.
Dust exploded outward as he finally hit the ground at the Madura’s market.
And he hit—Hard. Very hard that took the attention of whole Madura and public began to gather around.
Silence followed.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Then whispers spread around.
All of them were shocked by the sight before them.
People gathered to look around to see what they heard is true.
Not warriors. Not soldiers. Civilians of Madura.
Those who had lived under Kamsa’s rule. And suffered very much.
And what they saw—Shook them.
Their king who they considered as invincible and gave up hope from being freed from his tyranny.
Now laying in the ground Broken. Bleeding. Struggling—Just to rise as he got up.
He looked around. Recognition hit him. Where he was currently.
"...Mathura..."
For the first ti—Relief tried to surface seeing he was back to his kingdom.
But the promised relief never arrived.
Because—
-BOOM!!!
Devara landed. Right in front of him once again arriving from the sky.
Now as Lord Narasimha
The ground trembled by the arrival.
Kamsa’s eyes widened. In Panic. Pure fear took over him.
Even here Devara as followed him after threwing him through the lands straight to Madura.
He crawled back in fear.
Hands dragging against broken stone.
Trying to escape. But where could he go? The danger as followed him even back to his own kingdom.
The people—Watched. All this.
At first—They looked at the two Confusion.
Then—Recognition began to hit them one after another.
Because sothing stirred nearby.
The temple bells rang. Loud. Clear. Calling.
They all turned to look at the temple instinctively.
There—Stood the temple of Lord Narashima.
And within—The idol divine statue of.
Lord Narasimha tearing Hiranyakashipu apart through his stomach on his lap.
The priest who is responsible for the temple ca to see whats the commotion is about and saw the very idol he was praying to day and night.
And fell. To his knees. Without a second thought.
Tears stread through his face freely. As his eyes were showing imnse joy.
His voice broke—Then rose as the whole public who had gathered could hear.
"Ugram viram maha-vishnum..."1
The mantra echoed as he shouted in happiness.
Through the temple. Through the streets.
Showing how happy and blessed the temple priest felt.
"...mrityur mrityum namamy aham!"1
The people felt it the goosebumps all over them.
Not as sound. As truth.
One by one—They knelt. Voices joined together as they began to chant.
"Om Namo Bhagavate Narasimhaya..."1
Fear—Turned to faith of the god who appeared before them.
Oppression—Turned to hope of being freed.
Because the one they prayed to—Had co. Not as a distant god.
But as judgnt avatar Lord Narashima—Standing before their tyrant.
And Kamsa who had been near invincible in their eyes—Still crawling before Devara in fear—Still trying to escape—Finally understood what kind of situation he was in.
There would be no escape.
No negotiation. No second chance. So he can turn new leaf probably.
Because this—Was not war anymore.
This—Was the end of tyranny of his own rule.
While Kamsa ran away seeing Devara was not chasing him just standing there.
Not like a king. Like prey running away from its hunter.
Through shattered streets of Mathura—Feet slipping—Breath breaking as he ran—Mind collapsing trying to co up with a way.
He dove into a small, broken shop—Crawled beneath a wooden desk—Holding what remained of his breath.
Silence fell.
"...."
"...."
"...."
No footsteps were heard. No roar to know where Devara was.
Just—Nothing.
For one fragile mont—Hope flickered in his mind if he stays here he might escape.
Then—
-CRACK!
The wood desk exploded apart.
A clawed hand reached in—And found him like a viper.
By the hair roughly.
Kamsa scread in pain and panic—But it didn’t matter.
"-Ahhhhhh!!!"
He was dragged out from his hiding spot—Across the ground—Through dust—Through broken stone—Through the very streets of Madura—Which King Kamsa once ruled.
The people watched this whole scene in stunned.
Not in fear. In release.
Voices rose one after another—Together—Unified—
"Om Namo Bhagavate Narasimhaya..."1
Their prayers followed every step Devara took—Every drag he pulled Kamsa by his hair—Every mont of his fall.
No one stopped it. No one interfered.
Seeing their king being handled like this.
Because for the first ti—Justice was not delayed.
It was present before their eyes.
Devara stopped as he had claid. At the center.
Of a massive pillar—Rising above the city.
Where all could see the demises of their tyranny king’s death.
He lifted Kamsa—Held him in the air—By his hair. So everyone could see him.
Helplessly. Struggling kicking in the air.
Reduced from the tyrant to coward.
Kamsa’s eyes—t his which was white since Devara was semi councious.
"...."
"...."
And in that mont—There was no rage left.
Only terror could be seen in his eyes.
The claws moved. No hesitation. No speech of farewell to the enemy.
No judgnt spoken aloud.
Because it had already been decided.
-THRUST.
The claws pierced through his chest destroying his heart.
From front—To back.
The body convulsed by the strike.
The grip tightened around Kamsa’s hair.
And then—With the other hand—He pulled it off.
Clean. Final. The head separated. Form the body of Kamsa which stopped moving as he had died there.
Ti—Stopped for the citizens who were witnessing this site.
Then he threw them down on opposite side calmly— As the body Fell one side and the head fell on the opposite side.
And with it—The reign of Tyranny rule of Kamsa has Ended.
The chants did not stop. They grew louder.
Stronger.
Because this—Was not just death. This—Was liberation they all been waiting for.
And above it all—Standing amidst silence and devotion—Was not just a warrior.
Not just a prince.
But a force that had answered—When the world needed it most.
The roar did not end with Kamsa.
As another roar was unleashed.
"-ROOOARRR!!!"
It rose again—Higher. Sharper. Unspent.
The sky trembled under it. The air tightened showing that Devara as not yet cald down yet.
The very streets of Mathura seed to brace—Because the fury had not yet settled.
And then—Light ca . Not one. But Three.
Lord Vishnu, Lord Brahma, Lord Shiva
Appeared one after another.
Not as distant beings. As parents stepping in to stop their son from doing sothing which he might regret for his whole life.
They held him tight. Firm.
Not to restrain—To ground and make him calm down.
Devara roared again—The sound cracking through divine silence feeling restrained.
"-ROOOARRR!!!"
But this ti—It t resistance from the other side.
Not force—Presence.
Hands on his shoulders. Energy around him.
Voices were—Steady. Calm. Trying to reach Devara.
"Enough son..."
"Co back..."
"Return Kamsa has been killed..."
To those below—A cloud ford. Concealing everything what is happening.
Because so monts—Were not ant to be witnessed by the public not this soon.
Then—More light appeared around.
It was none other than his mothers Goddess Lakshmi, Goddess Parvati and Goddess Saraswati
Arrived seeing their son in suffering.
They didn’t command him. They embraced him in the motherly hug.
Wrapped him in sothing stronger than power—Belonging. Reminding him of who he was.
"We are here. Son"
"You are not alone. So hear us..."
"You can wake up."
Their voices softened the storm. As they spoke to Devara who was still in semi conscious state.
Not by overpowering it—By reminding it.
Of who it belonged to.
Devara trembled hearing their words and his fathers reminder.
The rage resisted—But the warmth reached deeper.
As he got his conscious back.
Past instinct. Past fury. To sothing human.
Sothing his. His eyes shifted indicating his change.
The white—Faded. Green pupil returned with a slit iris. Fierce.
But aware of rembering who he was.
He blinked taking in all around.
-Blink!
And saw them his parents. All of them who were looking at him worriedly.
Holding him tighter as if they would lose him.
Watching him wake up from his semi consciousness.
And in that mont—mory struck of what he done during semi consciousness state.
What he had done. What he had beco. What he had almost lost just now.
He might have hurt a innocent life if wasn’t for his parents stopping him.
The breath left him—Slow. Heavy. Taking it all in.
"...."
And the rage... He Let go.
Not vanished. But Contained this ti.
The transformation remained—But his aura changed.
From wrath—To presence of calmness.
His parents smiled. Pride visible on their face.
Relief of not sothing major happened.
"You did well."
"We will always watch over you."
And like dawn dissolving night—They faded.
The cloud lifted which was stopping the crowd gathered from knowing what happened. The world returned.
He stood there.
Still transford. Still powerful. But no longer terrifying.
No longer uncontrolled.
A calm aura radiated outward—Like a storm that had chosen to rest.
The people remained kneeling.
But now—Not from fear. From reverence for who was before them.
The storm had passed—
But its echo still lingered in the hearts of all who watched.
Devara stepped down from the pillar.
A single jump—A controlled descent—And he landed.
The ground no longer cracked.
Because now—He was no longer beaming with wrath.
He looked around.
"...."
At the people. At the streets.
At the broken remnants of tyranny.
Then—He let it go as he deactivated his Narasimha template.
The Narasimha form faded.
The mane dissolved into air. The claws withdrew. The aura softened even further as his original one.
And in its place—A young man stood before them.
No divine blaze. No terrifying presence.
Just... Devara. The crowd stared at him.
Confusion rippled through them.
"...."
"...."
"...."
The sa being—Who had torn through the sky—Who had ended a tyrant—Now stood before them—Calm. Human.
Devara felt their gaze.
And for a brief mont—Even he seed... slightly awkward.
A hero who had just shaken the world—Unsure what to do with silence.
So he spoke breaking the silence.
"I am Devaratha."
His voice steady.
"Most call
Devara."
A pause.
"Son of Goddess Ganga... and Goddess Bhudevi."
A murmur spread around hearing his declaration.
Not disbelief—Awe.
"I was the one fighting the war against Kamsa."
His gaze moved across them since they should have known about the ongoing war.
Not above. Not beyond. With them.
"And as you have seen—"
He gestured lightly behind him.
Where the end had already been written.
"Kamsa is defeated."
A breath slower to let his words sink.
"He is dead."
The words settled. Not loudly. But deeply.
"From this mont—"
His voice softened slightly.
"You are free."
Silence followed. Heavy. Hearing his announcent.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Then—Relief washed over them.
It didn’t explode. It blood. Slowly.
Like a long-held breath finally released.
Devara continued to explain—
"As for this kingdom..."
His tone turned firm.
"Vasudeva and Devaki will return. And their son—"
A faint shift in his expression.
"—is the rightful crown prince of Mathura."
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(Author note:)
I hope you guys give
your opinion and idea’s.
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I bow down to the ferocious and heroic Lord Narasimha, the great Vishnu,He is burning from every side. He is terrific, auspicious, and the death of death personifiedSalutations to Lord NarasimhaSalutations to Lord Narasimha
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