The moment Shiv unlocked his Mulādhāra, the Nāga-Tejas surged through him — wild, coiling, beautiful.
Flames wreathed his arms, not ordinary fire, but ethereal — flickering between crimson and deep obsidian. His senses sharpened, his body became weightless, and for the first time, he felt alive.
But it was short-lived.
The power began to twist inside him. The more he drew on it, the more his muscles screamed. His vision blurred at the edges, his bones ached as though cracking under the weight of divinity.
"Not yet… My body can't handle this for long."
The Guardian roared and attacked, his claws slicing air like molten blades. Shiv ducked, rolled, and countered, each strike barely keeping pace.
Still — his movements were faster than before.
He fought like a serpent now — coiling, striking, slipping through gaps in the Guardian's form.
A moment came — a flicker of weakness in the Guardian's left flank. Shiv summoned everything into a single strike, driving his burning fist forward.
CRACK!
The Guardian reeled backward, molten ichor dripping from a ruptured shoulder. His massive form trembled.
For the first time — he bled.
He looked at Shiv in stunned silence.
Then he laughed. Not in mockery… but in awe.
"So… you actually wounded me." He coughed, his chest heaving. "Hah… perhaps that old madman was right after all…"
Shiv remained ready, breath ragged. "What do you mean?"
The Guardian raised a shaking hand toward the monument.
"This tomb… this monument... it wasn't just built to guard knowledge. It was built to test will — the will to endure pain, shape power, and carry forward a legacy even the gods forgot."
He took a step forward, voice softer now.
"You've done what no one has in centuries. You've opened the base gate… and lived. You endured my wrath, and stood tall. That makes you heir to the Serpent Sutra."
His body flickered, spirit fading.
"My task is complete… and so is the last breath of my cursed life force."
Shiv stepped closer. "Wait… you're dying?"
The Guardian chuckled, a sound more human this time.
"I died a long time ago, boy. I was only fire and duty after that."
He turned toward a stone wall behind the monument, placed his burning palm upon it — the wall shifted, revealing a hidden passage of black stone and glowing roots.
"But before I fade… one final gift."
He led Shiv down the narrow path. They arrived at a chamber bathed in deep blue light. At its center stood a pedestal, upon which rested a small obsidian bottle, sealed in gold rings and covered in ancient Nāga-script runes.
Shiv stepped toward it instinctively — but the Guardian raised a hand.
"Stop. That bottle holds a concentrated core of Nāga-Tejas… more than your body could handle now."
Shiv's eyes widened. "What's it for?"
"When you mix your blood with your awakened Tejas, it will open. But heed this…" His tone turned grave.
"Do not attempt it until you've awakened at least four chakras. If you do… it will destroy you. Utterly."
Shiv stared at the bottle, feeling its presence like a heart beating in the dark.
"Why give this to me?"
The Guardian gave a weary smile.
"Because I see it now. You are not just your father's son… You are a serpent born in fire — one who chooses to rise."
The room darkened as the last of the Guardian's form began to break apart, glowing embers rising like ash in a fading flame.
"Remember this, Shiv Varma…
True strength is not just power. It is the will to carry the weight of what comes next."
And then — he was gone.
The chamber fell into silence once more, but Shiv stood still, the bottled storm before him, and a fire in his soul that had only just begun to awaken.
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