Trishan signaled his men. Soldiers came forward from the convoy, picked up Arya and took him away. No one said anything. Everyone's eyes were on Rankriti. She moved slowly and silently through the battlefield. Everyone held their breath as she moved on the ground.
"Dhanudanda, do you still wish to fight?" asked Rankriti.
"No, Your Grace," replied Dhanudanda.
"Hmm... No hate against Kritipal? No desire of defeating him in the battle? No desire to show your power?" asked Rankriti.
"No, Your Grace. Raktapasu already met his fate through my power," Dhanudanda said, bowing down but slightly showing off.
Rankriti turned in surprise. "Really? Raktapasu is no more? First Sharvas, then Raktapasu. What more?"
"We also lost Eknandini. And Savignya is hanging by a thread," Trishan informed her.
Rankriti was taken by surprise. "Such strong men and women. Fighting wars over petty issues. Now Yamsabha stands at the strength of five. That is, if Savignya survives. Half of my council is gone. Whose fault is it?"
No one said anything to this question. Everyone was looking down or at each other.
"It was all of us, Your Grace," said Parashar, who came from the camp to see what was happening and joined Dhanudanda and others. "It was a mistake to fight amongst us."
Rankriti moved towards Parashar. She rested her arm on his shoulder. "You have always been a man of principles, Parashar. It's a wonder you became a warlord in Prithvi Mandala." Rankriti looked at Parashar closely. "So you do believe it was a mistake. Yet you fought for two days. Had Sharvas not broken the rules of war, you would have fought today too. So tell me, do you really believe this was a mistake?"
"Yes, Your Grace," replied Parashar, accepting his fate that he might not walk away from this.
"What could you have done to stop this war?" asked Rankriti.
"We should have settled this amongst us. Managing the tariff and coming up with new business strategies," replied Parashar, waiting for it all to end.
"Are you a businessman or a warlord?" asked Rankriti.
"A warlord, Your Grace."
"Then why are you telling me about business strategies and tariffs?" asked Rankriti.
"Because we need to maintain the flow of money, so that people can live and eat and do things that they want," Parashar replied.
"Such a noble man! Thinking about people, the economy. See, now I am confused. Are you a warlord, a businessman, or an economist? What is your job?" asked Rankriti again.
"My job is to do whatever you ask me to do," replied Parashar.
"And what did I ask you to do?" asked Rankriti.
"To maintain the balance and run assigned businesses," replied Parashar.
"Right. Do we have the balance?" asked Rankriti.
"No, Your Grace. We fought and lost the balance."
"So what should we do if you are not going to maintain the balance?" asked Rankriti.
"Bring back balance and reinstate peace as soon as possible." Parashar closed his eyes.
Rankriti lifted her hand from Parashar's shoulder. Parashar got ready.
"Bring that Yatnish's rat," ordered Rankriti.
A few soldiers brought out Kalanemi. He was weary and cuffed. He was walking toward Rankriti with fear in his eyes.
"You are responsible for all of these deaths. Had you done your job properly, none of this would have happened. Upendra was going to die anyway. Killing Arya should have been easy, but you couldn't do that either. Such a shame that a man of your intelligence has to end up like this."
Rankriti lifted her hand and picked Kalanemi up from his throat. Kalanemi's eyes widened as Rankriti's grip tightened around his neck. And in a second, something happened. Kalanemi turned to ash and vanished in the air.
Everyone looked on with eyes wide open. Jaws dropped. A man had just been burned to ash instantly—and Rankriti had not even moved.
But it wasn't just the act itself. It was who had done it.
They had seen something rare. Something nearly mythical. A man burned to death by the bare hands of Rankriti. In all the years of war, politics, betrayal, and order—few, if any, had witnessed such a thing.
Not even seasoned warlords had seen her unleash power like this. Stories of Rankriti's abilities were whispered in corridors and passed along like legend. But no one expected to witness it. And certainly not today.
The air grew heavier. People glanced at each other, unsure if they were supposed to react or stay quiet. The silence became denser.
Even the soldiers who had marched behind her, who bore the sigil of her command, were frozen.
Why kill Kalanemi?
Was Rankriti behind the smuggling? Was she controlling everything from the shadows? Or was this her way of making an example—so that no one ever dares to act without her knowledge again?
Hundreds of questions swirled through thousands of minds. But none dared speak them aloud.
One thing was clear now:
This was no ordinary woman. And this was no ordinary day.