Six moons passed since Rudra's Rajyabhishek, and the winds of Mahishmati no longer carried the burdened sighs of the old regime. The reforms initiated by the young king had taken deep roots, displacing centuries-old customs and stagnant policies. The kingdom pulsed with new life as every corner, from the richest merchant quarters to the humblest village hut, bore witness to the rise of a new Mahishmati—a kingdom not only glorious in power but divine in purpose.
The Shiksha Mandirs, now finally operational, opened their arms to the children of the realm. No matter the caste, clan, or lineage, every child could walk into the temple of knowledge. These temples were scattered across every city and village, designed with Rudra's Cosmic Architect ability—shimmering walls, automated internal climate, doubled inner space, and auras that inspired learning and growth. The teachers, trained personally by the 1000 Divine Gurus infused with Rudra's foundational knowledge, stood ready. Their eyes glowed faintly, a symbol of the ancient mantras engraved into their being, and their speech resonated with wisdom that stirred the very soul.
Karmapeeth, the grand institution at the heart of the capital, awaited children who turned ten or more. It loomed not just in size but in significance. Larger than even the Royal Palace, Karmapeeth was a beacon of dharma and karma, its spires catching the morning sun before anything else in the city. The Karma Mani orb sat in the center of its main hall, glowing with eternal light. Each student who touched it discovered their natural talents—a divine guidance to tread the right path.
But Rudra knew knowledge alone could not sustain a people. The second necessity of life—roti, food—had to be addressed.
With the same divine insight and his modern-world intellect, Rudra devised something revolutionary. He created a machine powered by cosmic energy and mantras. This machine could produce high-yielding seeds of rice, wheat, lentils, gram, beans, and other essential grains. These were no ordinary seeds. They were crafted with mantra-layered DNA and enhanced growth potential. They required less water, resisted pests without toxins, and grew twice as fast.
Rudra distributed the seeds across Mahishmati for free—but only once.
"This is your gift," he proclaimed to the farmers gathered in the Royal Assembly Courtyard. "Use it well. But remember, gifts must be earned, not demanded. From the next cycle, you will buy the seeds. Not for me to profit, but for you to grow responsibility."
The people cheered, understanding the balance he sought—a harmony of generosity and self-reliance. The seeds bloomed. Within a single season, Mahishmati's granaries overflowed. Fields turned golden, green, and brown with abundance. Children no longer cried from hunger; temples began distributing prasad to all, and even beggars found meals without asking.
But Rudra's vision extended beyond Mahishmati.
He began exporting these seeds to commoners in other kingdoms—not the kings, not the nobles, but the everyday tillers of soil. Where Mahishmati's people prospered, he wanted no other soul in Bharatvarsh to suffer from hunger. The seed price was minimal, just enough for sustainability, not profit. And soon, across the vast expanse of the subcontinent, miracles unfolded. Families who had barely eaten once now had two full meals. The burden of tax lightened for many as they could feed themselves first.
However, not all reacted with gratitude.
In kingdoms like Kanyakubja, Kosala, and Dakshinapatha, greedy kings and ministers saw opportunity. They smirked, calculating how much extra grain they could extract as tax now that their peasants produced more. New decrees were drafted to increase grain levies. Tax collectors sharpened their quills.
But just as their hands moved to sign those oppressive orders, silence fell.
Thwack!
An arrow of blazing fire struck the marble throne of King Virasena of Kosala, inches from his ear.
Thwack!
An arrow of biting ice shattered the chandelier above the courtroom of Kanyakubja.
Thwack!
An arrow of pure darkness pinned the taxation scroll to the wall behind the Dakshinapatha minister.
Each arrow radiated cosmic energy and carried a single inscription in divine Sanskrit:
"Let Dharma prevail. Let greed perish."
The kings froze, their faces pale. No archers were found, no signs of intruders. These were divine arrows—fired by Rudra's Disciple themself and launched through the Cosmic Link of the Kingdom's Dharma Mandala. A secret system Rudra had built into Mahishmati's soul, allowing him to respond to the call of dharma across the land.
Whispers spread across Bharatvarsh. "Mahishmati's king is not just a ruler," they said. "He is the guardian of balance."
And while fear gripped the unjust, the hearts of the commoners bloomed with newfound hope. Farmers in Anga and Avanti lit diyas in Rudra's name. Children in Matsya drew his image beside their home altars. Even hermits in distant forests paused their penance to bless his name.
Back in Mahishmati, Rudra stood atop the divine palace balcony, watching the horizon.
His advisors approached, bowing respectfully.
"Maharaj, the land flourishes. The people sing your praises. The treasury has doubled again this month."
Rudra smiled faintly.
"I am not their god. I am their servant. The Supreme Ruler title is not a crown but a burden. We rise higher only when we lift others with us."
The air shimmered briefly, and golden script appeared in front of his eyes—the System.
[Congratulations! You've fulfilled the Dharma Principle of Abundance 1000 times reward]
[Reward Unlocked: Divine Storehouse – Unlimited Storage Space for Mahishmati's Treasury]
[New Passive Activated: People's Blessing – Your health and Prana Urja will increase with every sincere blessing from your citizens.]
Rudra exhaled, his gaze now fixed toward the east. The seeds of dharma had been sown. The roots of karma had begun to spread. But he knew this was only the beginning.
For in the far shadows of Bharatvarsh, forces stirred.
And soon, they would come to test the glory of Mahishmati.
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To be continued...