Chapter 3: The Palace of Destruction
Adarsh's footsteps moved slowly but steadily toward the colossal gates of the Vinashak Palace. Each footfall echoed against the stone floor, as if the very darkness itself could feel his presence. His heart hammered against his ribs, but he kept his breathing controlled. Sweat beaded on his forehead, yet his eyes held only one expression—resolve.The door loomed before him, massive and terrifying. This was no ordinary iron—it was forged from an ancient black metal that seemed to exist beyond time itself. No rust marred its surface, only a strange luminescence, as if the metal transcended centuries. The door stood roughly twenty feet tall, wide enough for ten men to pass through simultaneously.But what truly commanded attention were the carvings etched into its surface. These weren't simple decorations—every line, every curve, every symbol concealed profound meaning. Some depicted battle scenes—two vast armies clashing, warriors lunging at each other, swords gleaming through the air. Rivers of blood flowed, bodies crumpled to the ground. Others showed demons—colossal, horrific creatures with hollow eyes, gaping mouths, and razor teeth. Still others displayed ancient symbols—circles, triangles, intricate geometric patterns that spoke of mysteries buried deep in time.Adarsh slowly extended his hand. His fingers trembled, but he fought to steady them. As his hand drew closer to the door, the air temperature plummeted. First slightly cool, then colder, then so frigid that his breath crystallized into vapor.Then his fingers made contact with the surface.A shock. Sharp, sudden, powerful. Not a physical jolt—an explosion of pure energy. Adarsh's entire body shuddered. A freezing wave raced down his spine. Every hair on his body stood erect. He felt an invisible force peering into him, examining his soul, weighing his intentions.Then suddenly, the door blazed with light. First a faint glow, then it intensified, blazing so bright that the darkness fled entirely. The light was white, pure, yet laced with an eerie energy. Adarsh had to squeeze his eyes shut. Even behind his eyelids, he felt that radiance piercing through, as if the light penetrated his very skull.A resonance filled his ears—distant, soft, yet clear. It was a language he couldn't comprehend, yet somehow he felt it speaking to him. Words echoed through his mind, seeping into his consciousness.Moments later, the light began to dim. Adarsh cautiously opened his eyes. The door was opening. But not through any conventional means. No handle, no key. It opened by itself, slowly, agonizingly slowly.A horrific sound accompanied the movement—grinding, scraping metal against metal, stone against stone. The noise was so sharp it set Adarsh's teeth on edge. It was the kind of sound that penetrated bone.The door opened gradually. First a narrow crack appeared, then it widened, and finally the door stood fully open.As it opened, a gust of wind rushed out. But this was no ordinary breeze. It was so cold Adarsh's entire body froze in an instant. His breath caught. His lungs seized. His skin felt pierced by icy needles. This cold didn't touch the body—it touched the soul. This was the cold of death, of annihilation.With the wind came a stench—ancient, putrid, horrifying. Burnt ash, old blood, death and decay. Adarsh's nose wrinkled, but he steadied himself.The wind seemed to pull Adarsh inward. An invisible force gripped his body, dragging him toward the palace interior. Adarsh planted his feet firmly on the ground, but the pull was so intense he stumbled backward a step.A voice screamed in his mind: Don't go! Turn back! This place is dangerous! Death waits here!But then he remembered his mother. Her smile. Her love. Her final breath. And those killers. The Black Circle."No," Adarsh said through clenched teeth, his voice trembling but resolute. "I will not fear. I will not run. I need this power. I must have my vengeance. I will not let my mother's death be in vain."He drew a deep breath. Then with determined steps, he crossed the threshold.The moment he passed beyond, a strange sensation washed over him—as if he'd crossed from one world into another. The darkness behind him seemed distant now, hazy, indistinct. And ahead... ahead lay a new world entirely.
The palace interior exceeded even his imagination in scale and mystery. This was no ordinary chamber—it was a bottomless hall. The ceiling soared so high it vanished from sight. Above stretched only darkness—deep, dense, infinite. A darkness without stars, without light. Only void.The hall's walls were constructed from massive black stones. Each stone was large enough for ten men to stand upon. These stones weren't smooth—they bore scratches, cracks, scars. As if these walls had witnessed terrible wars, had seen destruction firsthand.Countless figures were carved into the walls. So intricate and detailed that Adarsh's eyes couldn't fully comprehend them. Some took human form—warriors, kings, monks. But their faces were twisted, filled with agony. Others depicted animals—but creatures not of this world. Multiple heads, multiple limbs, eyes that gleamed with unnatural light.And the most terrifying thing—these carvings weren't static. Adarsh felt they were moving. Slowly, very slowly, but moving. When he looked at one figure, it seemed to look back. When he focused on another, it appeared to open its mouth, as if trying to scream.Across the floor stood enormous statues of warriors, each frozen in a different pose. Some held swords aloft, others prepared to hurl spears, still others knelt defeated. Every statue was so detailed that muscles, veins, wounds—all were visible.But the most horrifying feature was their eyes. Every statue's eyes were hollow—merely deep pits. Yet within those pits lurked a strange darkness, a void that seemed to pull Adarsh toward it. When he gazed into a statue's eyes, he felt himself falling into that darkness, drowning in its depths.Stone tablets littered the floor. Some intact, others half-broken, still others shattered to fragments. Ancient script covered every tablet. Adarsh couldn't read the writing, but when he looked at those words, strange visions flooded his mind—battle scenes, screams, blood, death.The air hung heavy, thick. Breathing grew difficult. With each breath, Adarsh felt an invisible weight pressing against his chest. His knees began to shake. He felt himself collapsing.But then he saw something that seized his complete attention.Floating in the air, defying gravity, were small orbs. These orbs glowed in various colors—blue, red, green, gold, purple, white. Each roughly fist-sized, radiating intense light. They rotated slowly in a complex pattern, as if dancing to invisible music.A faint hum emanated from them—a melodious, hypnotic sound. This sound didn't reach Adarsh's ears but resonated directly in his mind. It calmed him yet also unsettled him. It called to him, beckoning him closer.Adarsh stood mesmerized. He began moving slowly toward the orbs. His hand extended unconsciously. His eyes lost themselves in those colors. Nothing else existed—only those orbs, only that light.But then suddenly, a voice echoed.The voice was rough, as if unspoken for centuries. Deep, so deep the floor trembled. It struck the walls, reverberated from the ceiling, sent vibrations through Adarsh's entire body."Who... are you?"Adarsh froze instantly. His hand hung suspended in the air. His breath caught. He looked around, but saw no one. Only statues, only walls, only those floating orbs."What brings you here?"The voice thundered again, louder this time.A shiver raced through Adarsh's body. His hair stood on end. Goosebumps erupted across his skin.He cleared his throat. He tried to inject as much courage into his voice as possible."I... I am Adarsh," he said, his voice echoing through the hall. "I've come seeking power. I must avenge my mother's killers. An organization called the Black Circle... they murdered my mother. They took everything from me. I... I want to destroy them all. I want to ensure they can never tear apart another family."Silence reigned for several moments. Deep, terrible silence.Then suddenly, laughter echoed. Cold, mysterious, terrifying laughter."Ha... ha... ha... ha..."The laughter crashed against the palace walls. Statues began to shake. Tablets clattered. The floating orbs spun wildly. The entire hall trembled as if struck by an earthquake."Seeking power?" the voice said, now laced with mockery. "You think the power here will help you? Young fool, the strength you seek is far more dangerous than you imagine. This power can save you, but it can also destroy you. It will grant you strength, but it may claim your soul. Are you prepared for that? Do you truly wish to walk this path?"Adarsh clenched his fists. His nails dug into his palms. He gritted his teeth."Yes," he said firmly. "I'm prepared. Whatever price I must pay, I'll pay it. Whatever I must do, I'll do. Just give me the power I need. I will not let my mother's death be dishonored. I will not let those killers live."
Before Adarsh, in the air, smoke suddenly began to form. This smoke came from nowhere—as if born from the air itself. At first barely visible, almost transparent. Then gradually it thickened, grew denser. The smoke was black and brown, emitting a strange smell—burnt ash, metal, old blood.The smoke swirled before Adarsh's eyes. It spun rapidly in a vortex, like a tornado forming. A terrible roar filled the air—so intense Adarsh's ears felt ready to burst.Then from within the smoke, that voice thundered again, but now even more powerful:"Initial Stage warrior!"The voice roared, and the entire palace shook."You? You come here to claim my legacy? You who are still a child, who haven't even properly advanced beyond your first level?"The smoke's laughter grew fiercer. Cracks appeared in the walls. Pieces broke from the statues and crashed to the floor."You cannot even see me properly yet! This is merely my shadow! My true form is so powerful that witnessing it would incinerate your soul!"Questions stormed through Adarsh's mind. Who is this? How can just its laughter shake this entire palace? How powerful is it?But Adarsh didn't surrender. He planted his feet firmly on the ground. He focused his eyes on that swirling smoke.The smoke gradually began taking shape. Smoke tendrils wove together, intertwining. First legs formed—massive, strong, muscular. Then a torso—broad-shouldered, packed with muscle. Then arms—long, powerful, veins bulging beneath the surface. And finally a head—with a face unlike any Adarsh had ever witnessed.Within moments, the smoke transformed completely into a warrior's form.This was no ordinary warrior. A giant—nearly eight feet tall. His body was a masterpiece of muscle—every fiber so defined it could be counted. His skin was gray-brown, marked with countless scars—deep, long marks that testified this warrior had fought thousands of battles in his lifetime.But most striking were his eyes. Those eyes... they were like gazing into infinite depths. No pupils existed—only a deep, black void. Yet within that void gleamed a mysterious light, an aura that seemed to see the entire universe. When Adarsh looked into those eyes, he felt himself traveling back through time—witnessing battles from thousands of years ago, watching ancient empires fall, hearing warriors' screams.Ancient armor covered the warrior's body—metal plates that gleamed gold, silver, and crimson. Intricate carvings adorned each piece—dragons, phoenixes, ancient symbols. A massive sword hung at his waist, its scabbard inlaid with precious gems.The warrior's aura was heavy, oppressive. An invisible pressure surrounded him, making the air thick. Adarsh struggled to breathe. His knees began to shake.The warrior looked at Adarsh. Then anger flashed in his eyes."You have no respect!" the warrior bellowed, his voice like thunder. "You do not bow before a warrior greater than yourself! I am far greater than your ancestors! I am more powerful than even the might of this palace! When I lived, I reduced empires to dust, destroyed armies, forced kings to beg!"Adarsh's entire body froze. His knees weakened. He felt himself collapsing.But then gradually, the warrior's rage subsided. A strange expression crossed his face—curiosity, perhaps even wonder."But... no matter," the warrior said, his voice now softer. "Though you are at the Initial Stage, you have accomplished something remarkable. You endured the unbearable agony of the Infinite Source—pain that drives most warriors mad or kills them. And you succeeded in reaching this most powerful palace. Did you encounter any other palaces along the way?"Adarsh bowed his head. He spoke humbly:"Yes, Elder. I saw no other palaces on my journey. When I entered the Infinite Source, only darkness surrounded me. I walked through that darkness for what felt like eternity. No light, no sound. I thought I would be lost in that void forever. But then suddenly, a light appeared in the distance. When I reached it, I found this palace."The warrior studied Adarsh for several moments, deep in thought. Then he spoke softly:"So it is true. The Infinite Source has sent you to me. My palace lies at the very end of the Infinite Source—at its deepest, darkest point. To reach here, one must traverse the entire Source. And for centuries... for thousands of years... no one has come. I have been alone with my guilt, with my sins."Sorrow filled the warrior's voice."Countless palaces exist within the Infinite Source," the warrior continued. "Each palace represents a different power. Some grant defensive strength, others creation, others control. But this palace... this is the Palace of Destruction. And it reveals itself only to those whose hearts burn with the fire of vengeance, who seek to annihilate."Adarsh raised his head. New understanding dawned in his eyes."Does this mean," he asked, "that I was chosen to reach this palace? That the fire in my heart brought me here?"The warrior looked at Adarsh. Then a slow, enigmatic smile touched his lips."Yes, young one. You have been chosen. The Infinite Source tested your soul, witnessed your intentions, and sent you to me. But whether this choosing is a blessing or a curse—that depends on you. You will receive my power, but you must be extremely careful. Do not repeat my mistakes. Do not become like me."And then the warrior began to tell his story—a tale filled with sorrow, pride, downfall, and ultimately, the hope of redemption.