Karna stood perfectly still amidst the sea of drawn swords.
He looked at Arjuna, and for the first time, a competitive fire ignited within his soul.
This was the first time since he got the memories of his past life back ,he felt the death was near, anger clouded his eyes
Closing his eyes for a split second, Karna chanted a silent, sacred mantra .
He reached his right hand out into the empty air.
BOOM!
A violent tremor shook the entire foundation of Hastinapur.
The massive stone pillars of the court groaned, and the Ceiling light swayed wildly as a blinding, golden lightning bolt struck the center of the room.
Out of the light emerged Vijaya, the supreme bow forged by Vishwakarma for Lord Shiva, and later gifted to Sage Parashurama.
The moment Karna’s fingers wrapped around the handle of Vijaya, a violent wave of divine energy pulsed outward, forcing every warrior in the room—including Bheema and Duryodhana—to take a heavy step back to keep their balance.
The entire court fell into a state of absolute, petrified shock.
The sheer, overwhelming pressure radiating from the bow Vijaya was unlike anything they had ever felt.
The ministers covered their ears as a low, humming frequency vibrated through the very stones of the palace, signaling the presence of a weapon capable of altering the fabric of reality.
Duryodhana’s chest swelled with an intoxicating, roaring pride.
Seeing Karna wield a weapon that literally made the foundations of the Kuru empire tremble filled him with absolute certainty that he had backed the right man.
Look at him!
Duryodhana thought, his eyes wild with triumph.
Let them have their favorite archer.
My brother possesses the power of the gods themselves!
In stark contrast, the Pandavas were paralyzed by profound disbelief.
Bheema lowered his mace by a fraction of an inch, his eyes wide as he stared at the terrifying artifact in the hands of a man they had dismissed as a commoner.
Arjuna felt a cold weight settle in his stomach.
The bow in his hands trembled, recognizing Vijaya not as is target, but as an supreme master.
The absolute martial monopoly Arjuna thought he held over Aryavarta vanished in a single breath.
In the shadows of the royal gallery, Queen Kunti pressed a trembling hand against her chest, Tears of pure agony pooled in her eyes as she looked down at the floor.
She saw Arjuna, her beloved third son, fighting with divine martial fury, and she saw Karna her firstborn, the child she had abandoned standing like an unyielding sun-god.
May the gods have mercy on my soul, she prayed silently.
They are going to kill each other, and I am forced to watch in silence.
Up on the royal dais, Grandfather Bhishma and Guru Drona froze.
Their eyes widened in absolute shock as they stared at the legendary bow in Karna’s hand.
They recognized it instantly.
They knew exactly what that bow was, and its presence confirmed a terrifying secret.
Parashurama.
Both Bhishma and Drona knew that the supreme bow Vijaya could only be handed down by the great Sage Parashurama himself.
They realized instantly that there was a massive, hidden story between Karna and parasuram .
Otherwise, why would Karna have remained silent when asked about his lineage and his teacher in the arena?
Yet, neither of them could speak the truth aloud.
Bhishma remained silent because revealing that Karna was a direct disciple of the Parashurama would hand Duryodhana an immense political and psychological advantage over the pandavas. This story is hosted at novelping(.)com.
Reveling the lineage of karna right now would utterly destroy the fragile Kuru peace.
Drona kept his lips sealed for a different reason for his pride.
His ego would never allow him to openly admit in front of his pupils that this “Suta-putra” had been trained by the parasuram ,the very master who was superior to Drona himself.
“LOWER YOUR WEAPONS!” Dhritarashtra’s roar finally shattered the standoff.
The king was trembling with absolute rage, his face contorted in fury as he slammed his golden throne violently against the stone dais.
“Arjuna!
You have raised a celestial weapon inside the sacred court of law, against an allied king, in the direct presence of your reigning monarch!
This is treason!”
Before the King could pass final judgment, Prime Minister Vidura stepped forward, his expression severe he know if not step forward to speak ,the situation will get out of control.
“Great King, the law is absolute, but Prince Arjuna’s actions were born of a rash emotional defense of his guru, yet the violation of court sanctity cannot go unpunished.
But if the king of anga forgive arjuna for attacking this can be dropped.”
Grandfather Bhishma stood up, his deep voice carrying the weight of ancient edicts.
“Vidura speaks the truth.
A weapon drawn in this council chamber is an arrow shot at the heart of the empire itself.
Arjuna, you have let your passions cloud your Kshatriya duty.
Discipline must be enforced to preserve the integrity of the throne.”
Dhritarashtra raised a heavy hand, his sightless face turning toward the lower tier of the court.
“The decree of the crown is absolute.
In accordance with the ancient laws of the Kuru code, for drawing a weapon against an allied king within these walls, Prince Arjuna is stripped of his honors for this day.
If king of anga forgive arjuna this matter will be dropped”
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the room.
Duryodhana sneered in deep satisfaction,before karna speaks he moved forward and said “karna will definitely forgive arjuna only if he shall kneel and wash the feet of King Karna before this assembly”
Before karna could say anything the King and ministers accept it .
while Yudhishthira and pandavas bowed their head in painful humiliation.
Arjuna’s hands shook with rage, but the absolute decree of the King and the silent, commanding glare of Grandfather Bhishma forced him to lower his head
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the court was illuminated by the amber glow of massive bronze torches.
A golden basin filled with fragrant water was placed in the center of the hall.
Karna stood frozen as Arjuna slowly approached his feet.
In the text it did not happened but it only happened in television series of the Mahabharat he remembered, a highly similar event occurred: after being mocked during a musical gathering, an enraged Arjuna had raised a weapon, violating court decorum, and was punished by having to wash Karna’s feet.
As Karna looked down at arjuna kneeling before him, a cold, icy sweat broke out across his neck.
A profound sense of dread washed over him.
He had changed the events.
He had altered the conversations.
He had used his humor in the garden to prevent the original music insult from happening, trying to change the events away from this exact confrontation.
He had done everything in his power to rewrite the script.
And yet, through a completely different chain of events through Drona’s anger and his own philosophical commentary ,the universe had corrected itself.
The exact same outcome had manifested.
For the first time since his awakening, a genuine chill of terror gripped Karna’s heart.
He realized that changing his destiny wouldn’t be as simple as changing his actions.
The hand of Fate was heavy, relentless, and it was fighting back.
Deep within the secluded, stone-walled archives of the northern tower, away from the prying eyes of guards and spies, a single oil lamp flickered against the darkness.
Grandfather Bhishma stood by a window, staring out into the pitch-black night of Hastinapur.
Prime Minister Vidura sat at a stone table, pouring over ancient texts, his face pale and exhausted from the day’s political disaster.
“You saw the bow, Vidura,” Bhishma said, his voice dropping to a low.
“There is no mistaking it.
That was Vijaya.”
Vidura closed his eyes, leaning back against his chair.
“The supreme bow of Mahadev.
The weapon that passed from Vishwakarma to Sage Parashurama.
To see it manifest in the hands of a man the world calls a charioteer’s son…
it’s really unbelievable Grandfather.”
Bhishma turned around, his massive shoulders slumped with an uncharacteristic weariness.
“The old sage Parashurama swore he would never train another Kshatriya after my own duel with him at the banks of the Ganga.
Yet, he trained Karna.
He gave him Vijaya.
There is a hidden story behind it and bond of disciple and master that Karna chose to hide in the arena.”
“Why did he hide it?” Vidura questioned, his mind searching for the answers.
“If Karna had openly declared himself a student of Parashurama during the tournament, we would have been forced to grant him entry based on his peerless tutelage alone.
He wouldn’t have needed Duryodhana’s charity crown.”
“Because Parashurama must have forbidden him from speaking his name,” Bhishma reasoned, his eyes narrowing.
“A vow of silence, or perhaps a curse born of an inside conflict we do not yet comprehend.
But that is not what terrifies me, Vidura.”
Bhishma stepped closer to the table, his voice turning deadly serious.
“Drona kept quiet today because his immense pride would never allow him to admit that a boy he rejected was trained by parasuramar .
And I kept quiet because if Duryodhana fully realizes the absolute power of Karna commands, his arrogance will touch the heavens.
He will march into war against the Pandavas tomorrow, completely confident that Vijaya and karna will shield him from destiny.”
Vidura sighed, a deep, sorrowful sound.
“And what of the punishment, Grandfather?
Forcing Arjuna to wash Karna’s feet under the evening torches…
we have created a rift that no treaty can ever bridge.
The hatred between those two boys is no longer a political rivalry.
It has become an hatred”
Two of them fell into rare silence.