In his mind, Karna was practically celebrating.
This was the exact political window he needs .
While the Pandavas and Kauravas were busy marching off to waste their military resources, blood, and time fighting Drona’s personal vendetta against Panchala, Hastinapur would be completely distracted.
He wouldn’t have to participate in this useless war, nor would he have to sit in this stifling court.
He finally had the perfect opportunity to leave for Anga, secure his borders, and build his independent strength.
“King Dhritarashtra,” Karna spoke up, his voice steady and respectful as he stood up, bowing slightly to the throne.
“Since the Acharya deems me unqualified to fight in his personal campaign, I request you to allow me to leave Hastinapur.
My own kingdom of Anga has been without its ruler for
many days.
I must travel east, manage my borders, and ensure the welfare of my citizens while the princes are away at war.”
Dhritarashtra, relieved to find at least one person not shouting or demanding blood, nodded eagerly.
“Your request is entirely just, King Karna.
Go, look after your kingdom.
You have our royal blessing.”
Karna sat back down, throwing a subtle, mocking glance toward Drona.
The biased master thought he was insulting him , completely unaware that he had just handed Karna his golden ticket to freedom.
Before the tension between Duryodhana and Guru Drona could explode into open violence, Bhishma stood up.
His towering frame and the sheer authority of his presence instantly drew the eyes of every man in the assembly.
He slammed the butt of his golden spear against the marble floor, a loud crack echoing through the hall.
“Enough!” Bhishma’s voice boomed, heavy with centuries of experience.
“Acharya Drona is correct in his demand for tradition, Duryodhana, but your hot-headedness is out of line.
Sit down.”
Bhishma turned his cold, unyielding gaze toward the master of weapons.
“And let us clarify the rules of this campaign, Acharya.
This is a test of succession for the younger generation who studied under you.
Therefore, the elders will not interfere.
Neither I, nor Prime Minister Vidura, nor any of the veteran generals of Hastinapur will march to Panchala.
Only the Kuru princes—the Kauravas and the Pandavas—will participate.” Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Vidura stepped forward, nodding in agreement as he adjusted his administrative scrolls.
“The Grandfather speaks the absolute truth.
To make this a fair and decisive test for the throne, let it be decreed: whichever prince successfully defeats and captures King Drupada to lay him at the Guru’s feet will be named the undisputed Yuvaraja of Hastinapur.”
Hearing the heavy terms of the challenge, Duryodhana slowly sat back down.
He had to swallow his anger in front of the entire court, but a dark cloud of worry immediately settled over his mind.
He glared across the aisle at Arjuna.
Duryodhana knew the reality—in pure archery and tactical warfare, Arjuna was Drona’s favorite .
If the Pandavas captured Drupada first, the crown of Hastinapur would slip from Duryodhana’s fingers forever.
Karna looked at his friend, seeing the visible panic and desperation radiating from him.
Leaning in close, Karna placed a grounding, steady hand on Duryodhana’s trembling shoulder and spoke in a calm, quiet voice that only the prince could hear.
“Do not worry, Duryodhana,” Karna murmured, his eyes reflecting a deep, unshakeable confidence.
“Whatever is truly meant to be yours will always find its way to you.
The universe has a way of aligning things for those who stand firm.
Let them march to their war.”
Karna then turned his gaze toward Guru Drona, his expression hardening with a philosophical disdain.
He didn’t speak loudly, but his voice carried a clarity that reached the nearby ministers.
“Besides, look at the nature of this command,” Karna said, a cold, mocking smile touching his lips.
“The concept of a Guru Dakshina that demands the blood, land, and humiliation of an entire kingdom is fundamentally flawed.
True knowledge is a divine gift, a sacred light meant to elevate the soul.
Nobody can truly sell knowledge, nor should it be sold for personal vendettas.”
Karna shook his head, his tone dripping with philosophical contempt for Drona’s bias.
“To demand a war as a fee for teaching is not an honor; it is an insult to the very knowledge you learned and to the gods who granted it.
A master who trades his wisdom for a cage of vengeance behaves more like a merchant than a guru.
Let them fight over the terms of a merchant, brother.
Your destiny is much grandness than a kingdom won on a biased teacher’s whim.”
Duryodhana looked up at Karna, the heavy anxiety in his chest shifting into absolute awe.
Hearing Karna completely strip Guru Drona of his moral high ground with such powerful logic gave him a sudden, malicious sense of comfort.
The raw, philosophical weight of Karna’s words hung in the absolute silence of the court.
He had not just questioned Guru Drona; he had stripped the legendary preceptor of his moral authority before the entire empire.
His eyes flashed with a terrifying, apocalyptic rage.
The veins in his temples throbbed violently as he gripped his staff, his chest heaving.
He was ready to explode, ready to unleash a devastating curse or command that would shatter the court decorum forever.
But before Drona could speak, a sharp, deafening twang echoed through the hall.
Arjuna had moved.
Seeing his guru publicly humiliated and pushed to the brink of absolute fury, Arjuna’s intense devotion to Drona snapped him into action.
He didn’t wait for permission.
In a fraction of a second, he unslung the massive, divine bow by using mantra ,which he got from Drona when completed his studies
In the arena tournament three days ago, the princes had used standard, royal practice bows to keep the exhibition safe.
But now, Arjuna drew his true celestial weapon.
The moment his fingers pulled back the heavy string of that divine bow , the bow revealed its terrifying, cosmic power.
The air in the courtroom grew instantly hot, and a low, unnatural thunder rumbled directly beneath the marble floors.
Swifft!
Arjuna released the string.
A blazing streak of silver light tore through the air, aimed directly at Karna’s chest.
It was an instinctive, lethal strike meant to silence the man who had dared to insult his master.
BANG!
The arrow never touched Karna’s flesh.
Before anyone could even blink, Karna’s divine, golden Kavach (natural armor) flared to life with blinding, solar brilliance.
The silver arrow slammed against the impenetrable golden breastplate, shattering into a thousand harmless sparks.
The shockwave of the impact rippled outward, blowing back the silk drapes of the courtroom.
Instantly, the chamber erupted into chaos.
“Arjuna!
How dare you!” Duryodhana roared, drawing his sword in a blind fury.
Behind him, all ninety-nine Kaurava brothers unsheathed their weapons, their blades ringing in the tense air.
Across the aisle, Bheema, Nakula, and Sahadeva leaped over their tables, their own weapons drawn, forming a protective wall around Arjuna.
The entire royal assembly was a single breath away from a chaotic, bloody civil war.
Arjuna only got the Gandiva in later stage so he didn’t have that bow now so I used another bow .