Three years had passed since Bahubali returned to Kailash Parvat to complete his divine education under Lord Shiva and Mata Parvati. Now twenty-five, Bahubali had achieved mastery over all sixty-four kalas, every weapon known to gods and mortals, and the wisdom of the shastras. His knowledge of divya astras—celestial weapons of immense potency—was complete, bestowed by the Tridevs and Trideviyan following his penance. Through yogic shakti and the nourishing sustenance of Mata Annapurna, Bahubali's strength had grown exponentially, his lithe physique concealing a power surpassing even the mightiest warriors of the age. Today marked the culmination of his journey on Kailash, the final test to prove his readiness to fulfill his destiny as the slayer of Kindasur.
Bahubali rose at dawn, performed his Surya Puja, and approached the divine court where Lord Shiva and Mata Parvati awaited, surrounded by Nandi, Lord Ganesha, Lord Kartikeya, and the Ganas. The air thrummed with anticipation, the peaks of Kailash glowing under the morning light. Bahubali bowed deeply, his heart swelling with reverence. "Pranipat, Gurudev. Pranipat, Gurumata. I, Bahubali, stand before you, ready to face any trial you deem fit to test my worthiness and the fruits of your divine teachings."
Mata Parvati's eyes sparkled with maternal pride, her voice warm yet imbued with divine authority. "Vatsya, you have walked a long and arduous path under our guidance, dedicating your heart and soul to the pursuit of knowledge, dharma, and mastery. Your journey has been one of unwavering commitment, and today, we shall test the depth of your accomplishments. Begin by demonstrating the sixty-four kalas—every art, from the melodies of music that stir the soul to the intricacies of strategy that guide empires, from the elegance of poetry that weaves truth to the precision of scientific inquiry that unveils the universe's secrets. Show us, Bahu, the brilliance of the wisdom we have imparted to you."
Bahubali nodded, his expression serene yet resolute. "As you command, Mata. It is my greatest honor to present the knowledge and skills you and Mahadev have bestowed upon me. May my actions reflect the divine light of your teachings, and may I bring pride to my gurus through this demonstration."
For hours, Bahubali showcased his kalas with unparalleled grace and precision. He played the veena, its notes weaving melodies that stirred the hearts of the Ganas, evoking the tranquility of Kailash itself. He recited verses from the Vedas, his voice resonant with the timeless wisdom of the scriptures, each syllable carrying the weight of divine truth. He demonstrated architectural designs with flawless symmetry, solved complex mathematical riddles with effortless clarity, and executed intricate dance forms that captivated the divine assembly. His knowledge of healing herbs, statecraft, and even culinary arts left the court in awe. Mata Parvati's smile widened with each display, and Lord Ganesha, the god of knowledge, nodded approvingly, his trunk swaying in appreciation.
"Well done, Bahu," Mata Parvati said, her voice rich with affection and pride. "Your mastery of the kalas is complete, a testament to your unwavering devotion, discipline, and the love you have poured into learning. You have woven the arts and sciences into a tapestry of excellence, vatsya, a reflection of the divine guidance you have received. Now, let us witness your prowess in the art of combat, where strength, skill, and spirit must unite as one."
Lord Shiva rose, his trishul glinting in the divine light, his presence both serene and formidable, like a mountain standing resolute against the heavens. "Bahu, my disciple, I command you to fight me. Lift your weapons and face your guru in battle, holding nothing back. Show me the warrior you have become under my guidance, and let your skill shine before the cosmos."
Bahubali's eyes widened, and he fell to his knees, touching Lord Shiva's feet in reverence. "Gurudev, how can I, Bahubali, raise my hand against you? You are my teacher, the divine light who sculpted me from a humble boy into the warrior and scholar I am today. Every skill I possess, every breath I take, is a gift from your boundless grace. To fight you would be a sin, a betrayal of the sacred bond between guru and shishya. I beseech you, Gurudev, do not ask this of me, for my heart trembles at the thought of opposing you, the source of all I am."
Lord Shiva's laughter echoed like gentle thunder across Kailash, resonating with warmth and wisdom. He lifted Bahubali to his feet, his hand firm yet filled with kindness, his eyes gleaming with divine affection. "Oh, vatsya, your humility and devotion honor me deeply, but you misunderstand the essence of this command. A student's highest duty is to obey his guru, to trust in the wisdom of the path laid before him. I am not merely your teacher but your guide, testing the strength of your heart, the depth of your skill, and the purity of your resolve. This battle is not a rebellion but a sacred dance, a chance to display the brilliance of my disciple before the cosmos. I order you, Bahu—lift your weapons and fight me with all the might, wisdom, and courage you possess. Let this duel be a testament to your growth and our eternal bond."
Bahubali's eyes glistened with emotion, his heart torn between reverence and duty. He took a deep breath, his voice steady with newfound determination. "If it is your will, Gurudev, then I, Bahubali, shall obey. Forgive me for any transgression, Gurudev. May my actions in this trial reflect the teachings you and Mata Parvati have bestowed upon me, and may I honor you even in combat. Guide me, as you always have, through this sacred challenge."
Lord Shiva's smile was radiant, his eyes sparkling with pride and anticipation. "That is my Bahu, my true disciple. Come, vatsya, let us begin."
The battle commenced on a vast, ethereal plain below Kailash, where the ground shimmered with divine energy. Bahubali and Lord Shiva faced each other, their weapons gleaming under the celestial light. They began with spears, the shafts clashing with sparks that illuminated the snowy peaks. Bahubali thrust and parried with precision, his movements honed by years of training, but Lord Shiva's strikes were fluid, deflecting each attack with effortless grace. The spear duel ended with Lord Shiva disarming Bahubali, sending his weapon spinning into the snow, a gentle nod acknowledging his student's effort.
Next came swords, their blades singing as they met in a whirlwind of strikes. Bahubali's footwork was agile, his attacks swift and calculated, each swing a testament to Lord Kartikeya's teachings. Yet Lord Shiva countered with divine finesse, his sword a blur of motion, parrying and striking with unerring accuracy. Bahubali fell back, defeated once more, his breath heavy but his spirit unbroken. With axes and maces, the pattern repeated—Bahubali fought valiantly, his strength and skill undeniable, wielding the weapons with the mastery taught by Lord Ganesha, but Lord Shiva's divine prowess was insurmountable, each bout ending with Bahubali's weapon knocked aside.
Then came archery, the art in which Bahubali had excelled under Lord Shiva's tutelage. The two stood apart, bows drawn, the air crackling with anticipation. Bahubali began offensively, his fingers swift as he nocked and released arrows with blinding speed. His shafts flew true, aimed at Lord Shiva's bow, his quiver, and even the ground to disrupt his stance. Each arrow carried the precision of years spent under the greatest archer in existence. Lord Shiva, fighting defensively, deflected each projectile with his own arrows, his movements precise and unhurried, a serene smile playing on his lips as he countered Bahubali's onslaught with effortless grace.
As the duel stretched into hours, Bahubali's offensive grew fiercer, his arrows a relentless storm. He summoned the Agneyastra, its fiery shafts blazing across the plain, their heat threatening to scorch the very air. Lord Shiva countered with the Varunastra, dousing the flames with torrents of divine water, the clash sending steam rising into the heavens. Bahubali loosed the Vayvayastra, unleashing a tempest that howled across the plain, shaking the peaks of Kailash. Lord Shiva responded with the Parvatastra, it's turned into a mountain, not moving an inch. The devas, watching from the skies, gasped at the spectacle, their divine eyes wide with awe at the mortal challenging the almighty.
On the third day, Bahubali invoked the Brahmastra, its golden light surging forth like a comet, threatening to engulf the battlefield in creation's fire. Lord Shiva met it with his own Brahmastra, the two forces colliding in a blinding explosion that shook the heavens, neutralizing each other in a burst of radiant energy. The devas murmured in amazement, their voices a celestial chorus, marveling at Bahubali's audacity and skill. Bahubali, undeterred, unleashed the Nagastra, serpentine arrows hissing through the air, but Lord Shiva's counter, a divine arrow imbued with the essence of Nagraj Vasuki, bound and dispelled them.
By the seventh day, Lord Shiva's demeanor shifted. His eyes gleamed with a warrior's excitement, and he transitioned to offense, his arrows now coming in volleys, each imbued with divine energy. Bahubali wove defensive mantras, his own arrows intercepting Lord Shiva's with precision, their shafts clashing in mid-air, creating bursts of light that illuminated the night sky. Bahubali summoned the Suryastra, its radiant beams rivaling the sun, but Lord Shiva's Chandrastra cooled the battlefield with lunar serenity, balancing the cosmic forces.
On the tenth day, the duel intensified, both archers moving with superhuman speed. Bahubali's arrows wove intricate patterns, targeting Lord Shiva's bowstring, his quiver's edge, and even the air to create shockwaves. Lord Shiva matched him, his arrows forming a divine lattice, each shot a masterpiece of precision and power. The devas, including Indra and Agni, leaned closer from their celestial perches, whispering of the mortal who dared to challenge Mahadev in archery. Bahubali invoked the Gandharvastra, its ethereal notes disrupting the battlefield, but Lord Shiva countered with a silent arrow that restored harmony.
As the fifteenth day dawned, the duel reached its climax. Bahubali, fueled by determination, loosed the Brahmashirsha Astra, its catastrophic power threatening to rend the fabric of reality. Lord Shiva's counter, a mirror of the same astra, met it head-on, the collision creating a shockwave that rippled across Kailash, felt even by the Ganas below. Exhausted but resolute, Bahubali nocked his final arrow, pouring his yogic shakti into the shot. Lord Shiva, with a flick of his bow, released a single arrow that sliced through Bahubali's bowstring, snapping his bow in two. The battlefield fell silent, and Bahubali lowered his head, surrendering with grace.
"I yield, Gurudev," Bahubali said, his voice steady despite his exhaustion. "Your skill is beyond measure, as is your grace."
Lord Shiva and Bahubali returned to Kailash Parvat, where Mata Parvati awaited, her presence a beacon of warmth. The Ganas, Lord Ganesha, and Lord Kartikeya stood in respectful silence, their eyes reflecting awe at the battle they had witnessed. Mata Parvati stepped forward, her smile radiant. "Bahu, you have fought with the heart of a true warrior and the humility of a true disciple. You have honored us with your effort."
Lord Shiva's voice was warm, his eyes gleaming with pride. "You have done well, Bahu, my vatsya. For fifteen days, you matched me in combat, wielding every weapon and astra with mastery that would make any warrior proud. You stood against me, not as a foe, but as a disciple proving the strength of his guru's teachings. I am pleased beyond words."
Bahubali bowed, a smile breaking through his fatigue. "Thank you, Gurudev, Gurumata. Your praise is my greatest treasure, though I know I could never truly challenge your divine prowess. I fought only to honor your teachings, to show that your guidance has not been in vain."
Lord Shiva approached, holding a magnificent bow that shimmered with divine energy. "This is Ajaydhansu, crafted from my yogic energy. With this bow, you shall be invincible, Bahubali. Take it as a symbol of your completion, for today, your training under us is finished."
Bahubali accepted the bow, his hands trembling with reverence. "Gurudev, this gift is beyond my worth. I am forever in your debt. Mahadev, Mata Parvati, I wish to offer gurudakshina. Please, tell me what I must do to honor you as my teachers."
Lord Shiva and Mata Parvati exchanged a glance, their smiles radiant with divine love. Mata Parvati spoke first, her voice gentle yet firm. "Bahu, our vatsya, we ask only this: that you never stray from the path of dharma. In all your actions, in every choice you make, let righteousness guide you. Uphold truth, protect the weak, and honor the teachings we have given you. This is the gurudakshina we seek."
Lord Shiva nodded, his voice resonating with divine authority. "Live as a beacon of dharma, Bahu. Let your life reflect the balance of strength and compassion, wisdom and humility. This is our wish, and in fulfilling it, you will honor us more than any offering could."
Bahubali fell to his knees, tears of gratitude in his eyes. "As you wish, Mahadev, Mata Parvati. I vow to walk the path of dharma, to wield the knowledge and power you have given me only for righteousness. My life is yours, dedicated to your teachings and the purpose you have set before me."
Lord Shiva placed a hand on Bahubali's shoulder, his touch a blessing. "Rise, vatsya. Your journey now leads beyond Kailash, to the world where your destiny awaits. Go forth, and may dharma guide your every step."
Mata Parvati's eyes glistened with pride. "We will always be with you, Bahu, in spirit and in strength. Carry our blessings, and let your heart remain true."
With Ajaydhansu in hand and the blessings of his divine gurus in his heart, Bahubali stood ready to face the world, his path clear as he prepared to confront Kindasur and etch his name into the saga of the Mahabharata.