Morning, as the sky glimmered faintly, Chandrapur lay veiled in pre-dawn shadows...
In this world, strength reigns supreme. The mighty rule, while the weak cower. To gain power, people practice sacred arts and cultivate their prana. Cultivation spans many great realms, each divided into nine lesser stages.
The Chandra Vihar Ashram was a modest sanctuary among the many ashrams in the land of Bharatavarsha. Its disciples were grouped as outer disciples, inner disciples, and core disciples. Those chosen by a guru or the Acharya were called direct disciples.
Virat Singh was once a direct disciple under Guru Anand. After Guru Anand's death, he was demoted to an outer disciple, tasked with tending the tulsi grove.
He trudged toward the Kali Van, aiming to cross it and reach Suryanagar.
Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine. He dodged left as a blast erupted where he stood. Raising his head, he saw Rohan Dev approaching with three other disciples.
"Rohan Dev, what do you want?" Virat demanded.
"Heh, just some fun breaking you," Rohan sneered, lunging with a palm strike.
"Vajra Hasta!"
"Aah!"
Virat's cry echoed through the forest.
He couldn't evade the strike for two reasons: his injuries and shattered nadi slowed him, and Rohan's speed was relentless.
"Vajra Hasta!" Rohan struck his chest again.
Virat felt as if a thousand thorns pierced him. Already wounded, the attack deepened his pain.
"Trash, how's it feel to be crushed?" Rohan taunted.
"Brother Rohan, let's finish him," one disciple urged.
"No, I'll torment him slowly. Let him suffer every cut," Rohan laughed.
"Brother's right," another disciple said, kicking Virat's stomach.
"Aah!"
Virat flew backward, spitting blood.
"Rohan Dev, kill me now. If I survive, I'll end you," Virat rasped, refusing to die.
Desperate to escape, he ran, hoping to find aid against Rohan and his followers.
"Trash, where do you think you're going?" Rohan chased.
Virat halted abruptly at a deep ravine, teetering on a cliff's edge.
"So, a ravine stopped you," Rohan mocked. "You dared flee? Now die!"
Rohan kicked him. Virat soared through the air, plummeting into the ravine.
"You—!"
Virat glared at Rohan, words failing as his vision blurred and he lost consciousness.
**Bang!**
Unconscious, Virat landed on a thick bed of dark, five-meter-tall kusha grass. Blood seeped from his body.
Crimson drops from his heart dripped onto the grass, staining it red.
As he clung to life, a change occurred.
A black glow flickered on the grass. His blood flowed into a small black orb hidden there.
**Buzz!**
The orb trembled, absorbing the blood, its hue shifting from black to a radiant multicolored sheen.
Streams of vibrant light burst forth. The now-multicolored orb darted into Virat's heart as if alive.
Inside, it released a surge of multicolored energy, fusing with his body. His form began to glow with divine light.
The energy carried potent prana, mending his broken nadi. It flowed through his blood, purifying his bones and marrow.
The light reached his core, restoring his shattered nadi network. His channels grew stronger, his bones and marrow refined, his core revitalized.
When the transformation ceased, the multicolored light vanished, and the orb in his heart reverted to black.
Dark sludge oozed from Virat's body—impurities expelled by the divine energy.
...
Slowly, Virat stirred.
"I... I'm alive!"
"Haha, I didn't die! I'm alive!" he laughed wildly.
"My nadi... they're restored! I can cultivate again! Rohan Dev, Maha Guru, Acharya—wait for me. I, Virat Singh, will return for vengeance!"
"But how? How are my nadi fixed, stronger than ever?"
Probing with his prana, he sensed something in his heart.
"What's this? A pearl? No, a jewel, with a carving... a mandala of the cosmos! What is this Divya Mani? Did it heal me? It must be a sacred treasure."