At Lohitpuri, Ganak trained his men harder than ever. His voice echoed through the training fields, sharp and merciless. Among the ranks, two figures stood out: Raghav and Rudra. They had approached Ganak a few days ago with a simple request — to train them.
Ganak had agreed, but not without a warning.
"If you think being Arya's men makes you special, you're mistaken," he had said, his voice rough like grinding stones. "I'll whack you harder than the others if needed."
The twins had simply nodded. No pride, no argument. Their goal was clear.
Since then, they trained harder than anyone else. There were no breaks, no easing of pain, no mercy. Day after day, their bodies were pushed beyond limits. Sweat soaked their clothes, bruises darkened their skin, but they didn't falter.
Ashvapati, while managing Lohitpuri's businesses with the help of six trusted officers, kept a silent eye on the twins. Their determination hadn't gone unnoticed. In his heart, he approved, though his face showed nothing.
One evening, Savignya arrived at Lohitpuri. She went straight to the inner chambers and met Ashvapati.
"We need to figure out a way to get Arya out of there," she said, without wasting a breath. "It's been two weeks. Two weeks of silence. My sources say he's safe, but we can't leave him there for long."
Ashvapati's gaze remained steady. "What do you propose?"
"You are the most respected man among us," said Savignya. "Even Rankriti respected your choice when you refused her offer. You could speak to the State head directly. Maybe..."
"No." Ashvapati cut her off, not with anger, but firm reason. "We cannot approach Rankriti so easily. You know that better than anyone. We need patience. Arya was given a task. Let him adapt. Let him move at his pace."
Savignya exhaled, frustrated. For a moment, she was silent.
Then, she looked at Ashvapati carefully. "One question, though. Why are you so eager to bring him back? I've never seen you show such concern for anyone."
Ashvapati was silent for a long moment.
"Why are you so eager?" he countered, his eyes locked on hers.
Savignya smiled faintly, a rare softness touching her otherwise sharp face. "Because I'm worried he'll lose his way in there," she admitted.
Ashvapati's lips curved into the slightest smile. "I accepted him as my leader," he said simply. "And it is my duty to keep my leader safe. I haven't forgotten my duties, Savignya."
"Good," she said, standing up. "Glad to know we are on the same page."
She turned to leave.
Ashvapati's voice stopped her.
"You still haven't answered my question. Why are you so determined?"
Without turning back, Savignya said, "Because he's not just your leader, Ashvapati."
Her words lingered in the air even after she had gone.
Arya had gained something that couldn't be bought or forced: trust.
Ashvapati and Savignya had accepted him. Dhanudanda, too, had praised him openly. Parashar — despite their disagreements during the war — respected him. Even Kritipal, once an enemy, now tread carefully around Arya's name. Arya's presence had grown larger than any of them had expected.
The twins, meanwhile, moved with purpose. As Savignya left the castle, they hurried to meet her.
"Any news from Arya?" Rudra asked.
"Nothing new," Savignya replied. "He is safe. I will try to get more information."
The twins exchanged glances. Waiting wasn't enough.
"We need to rebuild Chorpatta," Raghav said seriously. "The war cost us too many Whisperers. We cannot depend only on Savignya's sources."
Rudra nodded. "I'll send word to Rohak. He can start gathering new Whisperers."
They moved into action, setting plans in motion. Lohitpuri would not be idle.
Far away in Suryagadh, Arya stood in an open arena.
Sweat clung to his skin. A sword and shield were placed in his hands. Before him stood a mountain of a man — Shuka, the chief trainer of Rankriti's Arena.
Arya's heart pounded. Memories flashed unbidden across his mind — the Pit, the cages, the blood.
The jeering crowd, the roar of animals, the metallic tang of fear.
He closed his eyes, just for a moment. Exhaled.
This was different.
He opened his eyes. Calm. Focused.
Shuka stood motionless, waiting for him to attack.
From the edges of the arena, a few observers watched silently. Rankriti's people, no doubt, measuring him.
Arya tightened his grip.
He stepped forward.