Vivaan walked through the streets of Shaktiveer Territory with both hands tucked into his pockets, his expression calm and his steps unhurried.
His midnight-blue hair fell naturally across his forehead, occasionally shifting whenever a gentle breeze passed through the market streets.
Beneath his long eyelashes, his Cosmic Azure eyes held the quiet beauty of a living night sky, their deep azure irises filled with countless tiny stars and distant constellations.
His Shaktiveer Soul Signature remained invisible, leaving his forehead as unmarked as any ordinary child’s.
At seven years old, Vivaan possessed an appearance that could make even adults forget what they had been doing.
Yet he was completely unaware of the attention he attracted.
At that moment, his mind was occupied by a matter far more important to him than the opinions of others.
Mom said she was going to attend a meeting, he thought, his hands remaining in his pockets as he walked.
As far as I can remember, she hasn’t been away from home for this long in quite some time.
She must have something important to deal with.
He tilted his head slightly, recalling their conversation beside the pond.
And she still hasn’t explained how I’m supposed to practise the Eternal Art of Absolute Ascension.
She said she would teach me, but she didn’t actually begin teaching me anything.
Vivaan’s lips pressed together in mild dissatisfaction.
I don’t even know how to properly use Shakti yet.
I know what Astral Shakti is in theory, but knowing something and being able to use it are two completely different things.
He continued walking, his gaze following the familiar buildings and the people moving between them.
I should have spent more time in the library instead of spending so much time eating.
He paused for a moment.
Although the food was good.
A faint smile appeared on his face before he returned to his thoughts.
Still, if I want to understand the Eternal Art, I need to learn more about Shakti, techniques, spatial control, and the different stages of Power.
Mom probably has a reason for not teaching me everything at once, but I can at least learn the basics myself.
He lifted his head.
Only then did he realize where his wandering steps had taken him.
The Market Division.
Vivaan looked around with renewed interest.
Unlike the residential streets near his home, where families went about their daily routines, the Market Division was specifically organized for commerce.
Merchants occupied their designated shops, craftsmen displayed their creations, and sellers from different districts exchanged goods.
Narrow lanes connected larger trading streets, while signs bearing the names of various establishments hung above polished wooden doors and colorful awnings.
The place was lively without being disorderly.
People negotiated prices, children followed their parents between stalls, and familiar merchants greeted regular customers by name.
Vivaan’s eyes moved from one shop to another.
The Market Division is where people come to trade.
There should be something interesting here.
His gaze settled on a small shop displaying an assortment of wooden objects.
Let’s have a look.
He changed direction and entered the shop.
Inside, wooden creations covered shelves, tables, and even the walls.
There were miniature houses with carefully carved roofs, wooden birds with individually shaped feathers, tiny horses, decorative flowers, and animals carved with surprising precision.
A wooden peacock stood prominently on a raised platform, its magnificent tail spread into a fan of intricately carved feathers.
Near the counter, several wooden weapons had been arranged for children and collectors.
Wooden swords, spears, short staffs, and practice daggers were polished smooth, their edges rounded to prevent accidental injuries.
An elderly man sat behind the counter, working on a small carving.
When Vivaan entered, the old man lifted his head.
Then he stopped carving.
His eyes remained fixed on the boy.
At first, Vivaan did not notice.
He was examining a wooden bird whose wings had been carved so delicately that they appeared ready to flutter.
He picked it up, turned it gently, and inspected the craftsmanship.
The elderly merchant continued watching him.
A few moments passed.
Then a few more.
The old man’s carving tool remained motionless between his fingers.
His expression had become strangely vacant, as though the task he had been performing had completely disappeared from his mind.
Vivaan finally returned the wooden bird to its place and glanced toward the counter.
The elderly man was still staring.
Vivaan blinked.
He looked behind himself to see whether someone else had entered the shop, but there was nobody standing near the doorway.
When he turned back, the old man was still looking directly at him.
Is something wrong with my face?
Vivaan instinctively brushed a hand over his forehead.
His Soul Signature was not visible, and there was nothing unusual about his expression.
He examined the remaining wooden objects, hoping to find something worth buying.
Unfortunately, nothing particularly interested him.
The craftsmanship was good, but he had no reason to collect wooden animals or decorative weapons.
After a final glance at the wooden peacock, he stepped away from the display.
Vivaan approached the counter and offered the elderly merchant a polite smile.
Vivaan: “I’m sorry for bothering you.
I couldn’t find anything that interested me.”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked toward the next shop.
The elderly man did not respond.
He simply watched the boy leave.
A moment later, a young man emerged from the rear room carrying a bundle of unfinished wooden ornaments.
He was the elderly merchant’s grandson, and he had spent much of his life helping with the family business.
Seeing his grandfather sitting motionless, the young man placed the bundle on a nearby shelf.
Grandson: “Grandfather, what happened?
You’ve been sitting like that for several minutes.”
The elderly man slowly turned his head toward him.
Elderly Merchant: “I was experiencing the Beauty Phenomenon.”
His grandson stared at him.
Grandson: “The what?”
The old man sighed, as though the answer should have been obvious.
Elderly Merchant: “The Beauty Phenomenon.
A person looks at someone so beautiful that the rest of the world temporarily disappears from their mind.”
His grandson glanced toward the doorway through which Vivaan had departed.
Grandson: “You mean that little boy?”
The elderly merchant nodded solemnly.
Elderly Merchant: “Exactly.”
His grandson looked back at him, then toward the doorway again.
Grandson: “Grandfather, you need to stop spending so much time around your carvings.”
The elderly man frowned.
Elderly Merchant: “You haven’t seen what I saw.”
Elderly Merchant: “And I saw a masterpiece that the heavens themselves would struggle to create.”
His grandson slowly shook his head.
Grandson: “I’ll bring you some tea.”
The elderly merchant returned to his carving, still convinced that his grandson simply lacked an appreciation for beauty.
Meanwhile, Vivaan had already moved on.
He passed several stalls selling fruit, household utensils, ornamental lamps, and small magical tools.
Some merchants called out to attract customers, while others quietly arranged their goods.
Vivaan examined a few interesting objects along the way, but nothing captured his attention for long.
Eventually, he stopped before a shop specializing in magical accessories.
Unlike the wooden shop, this establishment displayed objects intended for practical use.
Polished mirrors occupied one wall, while storage rings rested beneath transparent protective cases.
Several wands were arranged in a locked cabinet, and Shakti crystals of different sizes and colors glittered under the shop’s lights.
There were also small containers, decorative bracelets, enchanted ornaments, and other items used by people who worked with Shakti.
Vivaan stepped closer to the display.
His eyes moved across the collection before settling on a single bracelet.
It was blue.
Not an ordinary pale blue, nor the bright shade commonly used in inexpensive ornaments.
Its color resembled the depths of a clear lake beneath a midnight sky.
A narrow silver pattern ran around its surface, and a small blue crystal rested at its center.
The bracelet was simple compared with some of the more elaborate accessories surrounding it.
For some reason, Vivaan found himself looking at it for longer than he had intended.
He did not particularly want it.
He was not even certain what he would do with a bracelet.
Still, there was something pleasing about its design.
He leaned slightly closer to examine the silver pattern.
Behind him, the shop’s middle-aged owner was preparing to assist two newly arrived customers.
The brothers were Manav Hitesh, eighteen years old, and Maketra Hitesh, twenty.
They had arrived in Shaktiveer Territory from Bharatvarsh Grand Domain two days earlier, and their behavior had already become a subject of discussion among the territory’s administrators.
They had bullied children, argued with merchants, fought publicly, and caused damage without showing much concern for the people affected.
Now, they had found something else they wanted.
Storage rings.
Maketra approached the counter first, his attention fixed on the display.
Manav followed, looking around the shop with the casual arrogance of someone who assumed that the world existed to accommodate him.
The shopkeeper greeted them professionally and gestured toward several rings arranged in separate cases.
Shopkeeper: “Welcome.
These storage rings differ in their internal capacity.
The smaller ones can hold a few cubic meters of goods, while the more expensive models provide considerably more storage space.
Their prices depend on both capacity and the quality of their spatial construction.”
He opened a protective case and showed them two rings.
Shopkeeper: “This model provides a moderate amount of storage space and is suitable for ordinary travelers.
The second has a larger internal capacity and is better suited to merchants or people who regularly carry equipment.”
Maketra picked up the more expensive ring, examining its surface.
Maketra: “How much can this one hold?”
The shopkeeper explained its capacity and described the basic precautions necessary to use it properly.
Maketra listened, then exchanged a glance with his older brother.
Manav nodded.
They liked the ring.
They liked it enough to take it.
Without making any payment, Maketra slipped the ring onto his finger.
Both brothers then turned away from the counter and began walking toward the entrance.
For a moment, the shopkeeper seemed too surprised to react.
Then he hurried around the counter.
Shopkeeper: “Gentlemen, please wait.
You haven’t paid for the storage ring.”
Both brothers stopped near the doorway.
Manav turned his head first.
His expression shifted from mild amusement to open contempt, while Maketra looked down at the ring on his finger as though he had forgotten that he was holding someone else’s property.
Manav: “What did you say?”
The shopkeeper maintained his composure, although concern had begun to show on his face.
Shopkeeper: “The storage ring has a price.
You may purchase it, of course, but I must ask you to complete the payment before leaving.”
Maketra raised his hand, displaying the ring.
Maketra: “This little thing?”
Shopkeeper: “Yes.
That is the item you selected.”
Manav exchanged an amused glance with his brother.
Then he turned back toward the shopkeeper, deliberately speaking loudly enough for nearby customers to hear.
Manav: “Isn’t Shaktiveer Territory supposed to be a wonderful place?
Everyone keeps talking about how good this village is.”
He spread his hands in exaggerated disbelief.
Manav: “Yet you cannot even give two visitors a storage ring.
How do you expect this small village to deserve its reputation as the best place to live?”
The shopkeeper’s expression hardened.
Shopkeeper: “This territory welcomes visitors and treats honest customers fairly.
That does not mean its merchants are required to give away their goods.”
Manav laughed.
Manav: “Then perhaps the stories about this place are just rumors.”
Maketra shrugged and started walking again.
Maketra: “Come on.
We have better things to do.”
The shopkeeper moved to block their path, but he hesitated when Maketra turned toward him with a threatening expression.
He was a merchant, not a trained fighter, and he had no desire to turn a dispute over merchandise into a violent confrontation.
Several nearby customers had begun watching.
Some frowned.
Others whispered among themselves, recognizing the brothers from the disturbances they had caused since arriving.
Vivaan had been listening.
Until then, he had remained beside the accessory display, his attention divided between the blue bracelet and the conversation behind him.
But when the brothers began insulting the territory while attempting to leave without paying, his gaze shifted toward them.
He looked at the shopkeeper, then at the ring on Maketra’s finger.
The situation was simple.
They had chosen an item, received its price and description, and decided to take it without paying.
There was nothing complicated about it.
Vivaan slipped his hands out of his pockets.
Vivaan: “Stop.”
It did not need to be.
The two brothers paused near the entrance.
Maketra turned first, followed by Manav.
Their eyes settled on the small boy standing several steps away.
His midnight-blue hair fell across his forehead, and his calm Cosmic Azure eyes regarded them without visible fear or anger.
For a heartbeat, neither brother spoke.
Then Manav burst into laughter.
Manav: “Did you hear that, Maketra?
A little boy has ordered us to stop.”
Maketra looked Vivaan up and down before joining his brother’s laughter.
Maketra: “What are you going to do, child?
Fight us?”
The shopkeeper’s expression changed immediately.
He had noticed the boy standing near the display, but he had assumed this boy was simply another young customer.
Now, realizing that the child intended to intervene, he hurried forward.
Shopkeeper: “Little one, please stay out of this.
You don’t need to involve yourself.”
Vivaan glanced at the shopkeeper, acknowledging his concern with a small nod.
Then he returned his attention to the brothers.
Vivaan: “This is Shaktiveer Territory.
No one is allowed to come here and mistreat its people.”
His words were delivered with the same calmness he had displayed while examining the bracelet.
There was no dramatic pose, no raised voice, and no attempt to make himself appear intimidating.
He simply stated what he believed.
Manav’s smile faded slightly, replaced by an expression of disbelief.
Manav: “Did you hear that?
He’s defending the entire territory.”
Maketra folded his arms.
Maketra: “Tell me, little boy, do you really think you can stop us?”
Vivaan studied them for a moment.
Vivaan: “I don’t want to fight you.
You can put the ring back or pay its price.
Either choice solves the problem.”
He glanced briefly at the storage ring.
Vivaan: “If you do that, everyone can continue with their day.
There’s no reason to make this complicated.”
The shopkeeper looked at Vivaan in surprise.
The child had not threatened the brothers, nor had he demanded that they be punished.
He had offered them an easy way to end the dispute without further embarrassment.
For an instant, Maketra appeared to consider the suggestion.
Then Manav stepped forward.
He had no intention of allowing a seven-year-old to tell him what to do in front of a crowd.
Manav: “You think you’re smart, don’t you?
Standing there and lecturing us as though you’re some important person.”
Vivaan’s expression remained unchanged.
Vivaan: “I haven’t lectured you.
I told you to pay for something you took.”
Maketra’s jaw tightened.
Maketra: “Watch your mouth, brat.”
Vivaan tilted his head slightly.
Vivaan: “Why?
Does paying for things become more difficult when someone reminds you to do it?”
A few customers nearby struggled to conceal their amusement.
Manav noticed.
His face darkened.
The boy’s calm response had embarrassed him more effectively than an insult could have done.
He had expected fear, pleading, or perhaps an attempt to call for help.
Instead, the child had treated the entire affair as a simple matter of right and wrong.
And that made the brothers feel even more foolish.
Manav: “Enough.”
He raised his hand, and flames began gathering above his palm.
The shopkeeper’s eyes widened.
Shopkeeper: “Stop!
There are children and ordinary customers here!”
Maketra also summoned Shakti, a fiery glow forming around his hand as he moved beside his brother.
The brothers had decided that frightening the child would restore their dignity.
If he refused to step aside, they would force him to regret it.
Vivaan watched the flames take shape.
He did not retreat.
He did not reach for a weapon.
His eyes moved from Manav’s hand to the people standing behind him, measuring the distance between the brothers and the nearest customers.
His expression became a little more serious.
Vivaan: “I already told you that I don’t want to fight.”
Manav’s mouth twisted into a cruel smile.
Manav: “Then you should have kept quiet.”
He thrust his palm forward.
A fireball burst from his hand, streaking toward Vivaan with a rush of heat.
At almost the same moment, Maketra launched a second fireball from the side.
The shopkeeper shouted a warning.
Customers hurried backward, knocking against one another as they tried to clear the area.
Someone near the doorway called for assistance, while another person pulled a younger child behind a nearby stall.
The two fireballs raced toward Vivaan.
He stood in their path, his midnight-blue hair stirring in the heat.
For the first time since entering the Market Division, his thoughts became completely still.
So this is how they choose to solve a simple problem.
The blue bracelet remained on the display behind him.
The unpaid storage ring was still on Maketra’s finger.
The frightened shopkeeper stood only a short distance away, and the people of the market were watching to see what would happen next.
Vivaan slowly raised his eyes toward the approaching flames.
His Cosmic Azure gaze remained as calm as ever.
But the instant before the fireballs reached him, something about his composure changed.
To Be Continued…