Back in the pit, Arya eagerly recounted his visit to the capital to the twins. They listened with fascination, bombarding him with all kinds of questions. Arya, still enthralled by everything he had seen, was more than happy to answer them. But their conversation was abruptly interrupted by Ashvapati.
"Don't you have more important things to take care of?" Ashvapati's voice was sharp, bringing Arya back to reality.
Sharvas. The incoming war. The grave danger looming over them all. He had completely forgotten.
Arya straightened. "Send out a message to Dhanudanda, Parashar, and Savignya. Invite them here. We need to discuss our next move."
Ashvapati met his gaze with a piercing look, as if measuring his resolve. Arya understood. He had to stay focused.
"Ashvapati, do you ever think about going to the capital?" Arya asked after a moment.
"I have never been there, but I have heard it is supposed to be great," Ashvapati replied flatly. His tone made it clear—he had no interest in discussing the city. His focus was on the battle ahead.
Arya sighed but decided to change the subject. "Didn't you say you would train me?"
Ashvapati raised an eyebrow. "Do you have time for it, dreamer boy?" he mocked.
Arya was taken aback. It was the first time Ashvapati had spoken to him like that. He wasn't sure whether to take it lightly or worry. "Maybe we can start tomorrow?" he suggested hesitantly.
Ashvapati smirked. "I will see you in the pit tomorrow."
And with that, he left the chamber.
Arya exhaled slowly. He had no doubt—he was going to get beaten up tomorrow. Badly.
Raman and some of the other officers exchanged glances before breaking into quiet chuckles.
Arya frowned. "What? What do you suggest? What should I expect from Ashvapati tomorrow?"
Raman leaned forward. "Have you ever heard him mock anyone before?"
"Obviously not."
The men laughed again.
"Cut it out! Tell me what I'm getting into."
Raman's expression turned more serious, but the amusement remained. "Have you ever seen him mock anyone before?"
"No, I have not!" Arya snapped.
"Because when Ashvapati mocks someone, they usually don't live long enough to talk about it."
Arya blinked. "What does that mean?"
Another officer spoke up. "Ashvapati only mocks someone when he's about to fight seriously. He knows his strength. He knows others fear it. Even without his massive hammer, he can take down at least thirty men—barehanded. His mockery? It's a warning. It gets inside his opponent's head, makes them nervous."
Arya swallowed. "That... seems about right." He forced himself to sound nonchalant as he turned and left the chamber.
But the truth was, he was nervous.
As he waited for replies from the three warlords, his mind wandered back to the temple. The mural. The mystery man. Who was he? Why did he say those words? Where would he see Arya again?
Questions raced through his mind, tangled with thoughts of the city, the upcoming war, and his own uncertain future.
What happens if I win? What happens if I lose?
He needed answers. But for now, sleep took him.