By the age of six, Rudra had become a problem.
Not for his parents.
Not for the people.
For those who lived comfortably in corruption.
The crown prince no longer wandered the palace under watchful eyes alone. Wherever he went, conversations died. Smiles stiffened. Men who once spoke freely now weighed every word.
Because Rudra listened.
And remembered.
—
[Dharma–Karma Chronicle: Memory Integrity — Absolute]
—
Court sessions fascinated him—not for the speeches, but for what was *not* said.
A land dispute ruled unjustly.
Taxes quietly raised.
A soldier punished for refusing a bribe.
Rudra saw patterns.
And patterns led to rot.
One morning, as ministers debated grain distribution, Rudra spoke from beside the throne.
"Why does District Kalinga receive half the allocation of District Surasena," he asked calmly, "despite having double the population?"
The hall froze.
A minister cleared his throat. "Your Highness, logistics—"
"False," Rudra said, voice light but firm. "The routes are shorter."
The king's gaze sharpened.
The minister broke into sweat.
The system updated.
—
[Deception Detected]
[Dharma Comprehension: Expanding]
—
That night, the rot struck back.
The attack was bold.
A fire—set deliberately in the west wing of the palace. Smoke spread fast. Servants screamed. Guards rushed to contain the chaos.
In the confusion, a shadow moved toward the prince's chambers.
Rudra was awake.
He always was.
The system's warning came simultaneously.
—
[Threat Level: High]
[Assailant: Armed]
[Authority Override: Available]
—
The door creaked open.
A blade flashed.
Rudra did not scream.
He stepped forward.
The air shifted.
Not visibly—but heavily.
The assassin's knees buckled as if pressed by an invisible mountain.
"What—what is this?" the man gasped.
Rudra's eyes were cold.
"Fear," he replied simply.
The system responded.
—
[Authority Pulse — Minor]
[Effect: Mental Suppression]
—
Guards burst in seconds later to find the assassin collapsed, weapon clattering from nerveless fingers, eyes wide with terror.
The palace burned that night—but not the prince.
Interrogation followed.
Names surfaced.
Nobles.
Influencers.
Men who believed the crown belonged to tradition, not *judgment*.
King Rajendra listened in silence.
Then he issued three orders.
Executions.
Confiscations.
Reforms.
The kingdom felt the shift.
For the first time in decades, punishment reached upward.
Rudra observed.
—
[Dharma Ledger Updated]
[Injustice Confronted]
[Outcome: Correction Initiated]
—
Two days later, as Rudra trained alone in the inner courtyard, the air changed.
Dry.
Sharp.
Ancient.
A presence stood behind him.
"You did not hesitate," a voice said.
Rudra turned.
A tall figure stood there, axe resting on his shoulder, eyes like burning coals.
Parashuram.
Rudra did not bow.
He met the gaze evenly.
"Fear is a tool," Rudra said. "I used it."
Parashuram laughed—a booming sound that cracked stone.
"Good," the immortal warrior said. "Because hesitation disgusts me."
The system reacted instantly.
—
[Legendary Entity Detected]
[Compatibility: Extreme]
[Future Path: Martial Ascension]
—
Parashuram crouched, studying the boy.
"Eight years," he said suddenly. "When you are ready, I will take you."
Rudra nodded once.
"I will be ready," he replied.
Parashuram's grin widened.
Then he vanished.
That night, Rudra sat quietly beside his mother.
Queen Sharmila brushed his hair gently.
"You frighten people," she said softly.
Rudra looked at her.
"I frighten those who deserve it."
She smiled—not afraid.
Proud.
The system logged something new.
—
[Emotional Anchor Identified]
[Stability Increased]
—
Outside, storms gathered.
Inside the palace, the crown prince continued to grow.
And somewhere beyond time, dharma shifted its weight—preparing to strike harder.
-- chapter 4 ended --