Aranya twisted her long neck unnaturally, her many limbs scraping against the marble as she stared at Mishka with unsettling fascination.
"Oh… Reeva Daayan," she hissed, tasting the words like honey and poison together.
"A hybrid of a Reevavanshi warrior and a daayan's cursed lineage…"
She clicked her tongue.
"How fascinating."
Her eight black eyes blinked one after another, predatory and amused.
"But you're still a junior, little half-breed."
Her voice echoed, deep and ancient.
"I am a five-hundred-year-old spider witch.
Do you truly think you can defeat me?"
Mishka stepped forward, her braid tightening like a whip behind her, eyes glowing the deep red of a rising storm.
"I don't know if I can defeat you," she said calmly,
"but I can absolutely stall you…"
Her smile sharpened.
"...so my cousin can kill that old hag you worship."
Aranya's legs twitched in irritation.
"Then enough talking," she spat.
"Let's get done with it."
Mishka inhaled slowly—then flicked her wrist.
The battle exploded.
Aranya lunged first, spider limbs slicing through the air like knives.
Mishka spun, her braid cracking like thunder as she blocked the strike.
The impact shook the entire living room.
The family flinched but couldn't look away.
Aranya crawled up the wall, moving upside down with impossible speed.
She leapt—
Mishka dodged, sliding across the marble on one knee, braid whipping upward to strike the witch's abdomen.
Aranya shrieked as she slammed into a glass shelf, shattering it.
But she healed in seconds.
She grinned.
"Cute. But not enough."
She shot a line of sticky silk at Mishka—
Mishka jumped, flipping mid-air, her braid slashing the web in an arc of glowing power.
Varun, trapped in the corner, shouted,
"Mishka! Watch her left—!"
Too late.
Aranya's claw scraped Mishka's arm, a thin line of dark blood appearing.
Aranya licked her fangs.
"First blood… junior."
Mishka wiped the blood with her thumb and smirked.
"You talk too much."
She slammed her braid into the floor—
A shockwave rippled across the room, knocking Aranya back.
But the spider witch only laughed, delighted.
"Oh this will be fun."
She pounced again—
And the fight continued, faster, deadlier, and more desperate with every second.
The air inside the cursed temple was thick and suffocating, shadows twisting unnaturally along the walls. Flickering torchlight danced across Kalapishachi's wrinkled, cruel face as she sat cross-legged on a black stone dais, her eyes glinting like cold fire.
Kiara stepped forward, her gown trailing lightly over the cracked floor, her heels clicking softly but with unyielding purpose. The Rudramani dust around her shimmered faintly, a golden aura hinting at the power coiled within her. Her jaw was set, and her hands clenched tightly.
"I haven't come to beg," Kiara's voice rang clear, steady, though the tension in the air made it tremble slightly. "I've come to end you."
Kalapishachi chuckled, a sound like bones grinding. "End me?" she hissed. "Little Jishwa… you dare speak to me as if your life has meaning in this world. You've only just awakened your powers, and yet here you stand, trying to challenge a thousand years of darkness."
Kiara's eyes flared with determination, the faint trident mark on her back glowing. "I may be newly acknowledged, but I will not stand idle while the man I love bleeds because of your curse. Today, I decide the rules."
The old witch's laugh echoed around the temple, sending dust into spiraling eddies. "Ah, the beloved wife of the Warlock King. So brave… so foolish. You may call yourself Jishwa, but do not forget—you have seen only a fraction of your true potential, and I… I have seen the rise and fall of every incarnation like yours."
Kiara's chest heaved slightly, but she didn't flinch. "I don't need to see everything. I just need enough to save him. And I swear, by Bholenath himself, I will stop you, no matter what it takes."
Kalapishachi leaned forward, her voice softening only to send a sharper chill through the temple. "Three hours, little girl. Three hours is all the life you have left to try. And even if you succeed… the price will be yours alone. Sacrifice of love, remember? That is the truth of this world."
Kiara's fists glowed with golden light, her eyes burning like molten gold. "Then let me pay it. I am not afraid. I am not your victim."
The shadows around Kalapishachi writhed, creeping toward Kiara like living things. The wind inside the temple howled, carrying the voices of ancient, unseen forces. The golden Rudramani aura flared around Kiara, illuminating the space, standing defiantly against the darkness.
And yet… Kalapishachi only smiled.
"Let us see," she whispered, "if the little Jishwa can truly survive what comes next."
The temple seemed to contract around Kiara, as if readying itself to test her resolve.
To be continued…