Mahabharat: Shiva's Last Variable

(A/N):

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Kravyadanta studied Ashwatthama for several long moments.

The son of Dronacharya stood amidst the smoke of the ruined chariot with his sword lowered slightly and his shield held close to his body.

His breathing had not changed.

His heartbeat had not quickened.

Even after surviving an assassination attempt and cutting down dozens of Rakshasas, there was not the faintest trace of anxiety upon his face.

His eyes remained unwavering.

Cold.

Focused.

As though the towering Rakshasa General standing before him was simply another obstacle that needed to be overcome.

Kravyadanta suddenly began to laugh.

"Hehehe..."

The low chuckle gradually grew louder until it echoed across the battlefield.

"I like those eyes."

He slowly raised a little finger and lazily picked at one of his jagged teeth, utterly unconcerned by the warrior standing opposite him. His posture was so relaxed that it bordered on insulting, as though he had all the time in the world.

"Not a flicker of fear."

"Not even when you know exactly who I am."

He flicked away whatever had been caught between his teeth before grinning from ear to ear.

"You’re either incredibly brave..."

"...or incredibly delicious."

His tongue slowly ran across his sharpened fangs.

"I wonder which one it is."

There was no excitement in his eyes about defeating a famous warrior.

No pride in facing the son of Dronacharya.

No desire to prove himself.

The only emotion that shone within those crimson eyes was a grotesque hunger.

He wasn’t looking at Ashwatthama as an enemy.

He was looking at him the way a starving predator looked at its next meal.

"I’ve tasted sages..."

Kravyadanta said almost dreamily.

"I’ve tasted kings..."

"I’ve tasted warriors blessed by strange powers."

He inhaled deeply, as if savoring an invisible aroma drifting through the battlefield.

"But the flesh of the son of sage..."

His grin widened even further.

"I’ve imagined that flavor ever since I heard your heritage."

Ashwatthama answered with silence.

"...."

His expression never changed.

That silence amused Kravyadanta even more.

"You don’t talk much."

"I suppose that’s fine."

"I’ll do enough talking for both of us."

With surprising casualness, the Rakshasa General climbed down from his massive chariot.

The enormous cleaver remained resting inside the vehicle.

Instead of reaching for it, he stretched his shoulders as though preparing for a leisurely stroll.

Then he turned toward the grotesque creatures harnessed to the chariot.

The thick iron chains binding them rattled.

Kravyadanta unfastened each one with practiced ease before affectionately patting the nearest beast upon its flayed neck.

"There..."

he said softly.

"Go play."

The creatures needed no further command.

The instant the last restraint fell away, all four monstrous beasts exploded into motion.

Their claws gouged deep trenches into the earth as they charged.

The battlefield shook beneath their combined weight.

Their mouths opened impossibly wide, revealing row upon row of bloodstained fangs as guttural snarls echoed through the fog.

Kravyadanta did not follow them.

Instead...

He casually climbed back onto the driver’s seat of the chariot.

Leaning comfortably against its side, he rested one elbow on his knee and supported his chin with his fist.

From where he sat, he looked less like a general entering battle...

...and more like a man watching his favorite hunting dogs chase wounded prey.

A cruel smile never left his face.

"Don’t kill him too quickly."

"I want the meat fresh."

The beasts reached Ashwatthama almost instantly.

The first lunged straight for his throat.

The second circled toward his exposed flank.

The remaining two split apart with uncanny coordination, attempting to trap him between them.

Ashwatthama’s eyes moved only slightly.

He did not retreat.

He did not panic.

The first beast’s claws descended with enough force to split stone.

KRAAANG!

His shield met the strike head-on.

A shower of brilliant sparks erupted where claw met steel.

The sound was closer to forged blades colliding than an animal attack.

The sheer sharpness of those claws was astonishing.

Deep grooves appeared across the surface of the divine shield, yet the weapon held firm.

Before the first beast could withdraw, another lunged toward his shoulder.

Ashwatthama pivoted on one foot, allowing the snapping jaws to close upon empty air.

The creature’s fangs crashed together with a metallic crack powerful enough to splinter a discarded spear lying on the ground.

A third beast came low, aiming to tear through his legs.

Ashwatthama sprang upward, narrowly clearing the sweeping claws as they carved furrows through the earth beneath him.

He landed lightly, only for the fourth monster to leap from behind with jaws wide open.

Twisting his body in midair, he brought the shield around just in time.

The beast’s teeth slammed into its surface.

THOOOOM!

The impact echoed across the battlefield.

The creature pushed with terrifying strength, trying to crush both shield and warrior beneath its weight.

Ashwatthama planted his feet and held his ground.

More sparks burst outward as fang scraped against enchanted steel.

The pressure alone would have shattered an ordinary warrior’s arm.

His did not even tremble.

Within moments, all four beasts surrounded him once again.

They prowled in tightening circles, muscles rippling beneath their flayed flesh, crimson eyes never blinking as strings of black saliva dripped from their jaws.

Upon the chariot, Kravyadanta watched with obvious delight.

He chuckled every time one of the beasts came close to sinking its fangs into Ashwatthama.

"Good..."

"Corner him like some kind of rat. Tire him out. Let him scream in pain."

"By the time I’m finished watching..."

He licked his lips once more.

"...he’ll be perfectly tender to taste well need to add some spice."

Ashwatthama paid no attention to Kravyadanta’s taunts.

"...."

The Rakshasa General could laugh, boast, and fantasize all he wished like before him was not his enemy but a food which got delivered itself to his door steps.

None of it mattered anymore.

His entire world had narrowed to the four beasts circling him.

Their breathing.

The rhythm of their footsteps.

The tension in their muscles.

The slight twitch of their claws before they pounced.

His father who is also his guru had taught him long ago that words could deceive...

But instinct never did.

’Observe. Wait. Let the enemy reveal their nature.’

Ashwatthama remained perfectly still.

The beasts continued circling him in widening and narrowing arcs, searching for the smallest opening.

If he now display a slight hesitation that they would jump on him, worst all at once.

Their crimson eyes never left him, and their growls rolled across the battlefield like distant thunder.

Then...

One of them lost its patience.

With a savage roar, it launched itself straight at him.

Ashwatthama had been expecting exactly that.

’They’re beasts,’

he thought calmly.

’No matter how well they’re trained, instinct will eventually overpower discipline.’

That single impatient leap was all the opening he needed.

Instead of retreating,

Ashwatthama suddenly dropped low, sliding across the blood-soaked earth beneath the creature’s enormous body.

The monster’s claws swept through empty air where he had been standing only an instant earlier.

At the same time...

His sword flashed upward.

The enchanted blade carved a deep line across the beast’s exposed underside as Ashwatthama slid beneath it.

The creature let out a deafening howl that echoed across the battlefield.

Its momentum carried it several more strides before its legs buckled beneath it.

The tremendous wound robbed it of its strength almost instantly.

All its internal organs and intestines fell to the ground.

It staggered...

Collapsed heavily upon the earth...

And moved no more.

The remaining three beasts recoiled, snarling furiously as the scent of their fallen companion spread through the air.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Ashwatthama rose smoothly back to his feet.

His sword was already returning to guard position.

There was no triumph on his face.

Only concentration.

Three remained.

He shifted his footing, preparing to meet their next assault.

Then...

Every instinct in his body exploded with warning.

Behind you.

His pupils contracted.

"...."

There wasn’t enough time.

Dodging was impossible.

Ashwatthama reacted without thought.

His battered shield came up over his head.

The next instant...

KRAAAAAAANG!

A colossal executioner’s cleaver crashed down upon it with terrifying force.

The impact reverberated across the battlefield like a temple bell struck by a mountain.

The enchanted shield, which had endured countless attacks throughout the day, finally reached its limit.

The enormous blade bit deep into it, shearing through nearly half its thickness before the remaining metal held fast.

Even so...

The force behind the strike was overwhelming.

Ashwatthama was driven to one knee.

The ground beneath him shattered.

Cracks spread outward in every direction as the earth struggled to withstand the pressure pressing down upon it.

Dust erupted around the two warriors.

For a brief moment, it looked as though the executioner’s blade might continue its descent.

Ashwatthama’s muscles strained.

Every tendon in his arms stood out as he fought to keep the cleaver from advancing another inch.

Then a low chuckle reached his ears.

-Chuckle!

"So focused on my pets..."

"...that you forgot about their master."

Kravyadanta stood over him, both hands gripping the massive cleaver.

The easy amusement from earlier had vanished.

In its place was the savage grin of a predator that believed it had finally cornered its prey.

"You disappoint me, son of sage whatever."

Without warning, Kravyadanta abandoned the blade for a heartbeat and drove a brutal kick into Ashwatthama’s side.

BOOM!

The force hurled Ashwatthama across the battlefield.

He refused to surrender to the momentum.

Driving the tip of his sword into the earth, he let the blade bite deep into the ground.

Steel scraped through stone as it carved a long trench behind him, slowing his flight until he finally came to a stop several dozen paces away.

Ashwatthama remained kneeling, one hand gripping his sword, the other still holding what remained of his shield.

The shield was ruined.

A massive gash ran through its center where the executioner’s cleaver had nearly split it apart.

Another half-second...

That was all it would have taken.

Had his instincts warned him even slightly later...

Had he hesitated for the briefest instant...

Kravyadanta’s ambush would not have shattered a shield.

It would have cleaved straight through him.

Ashwatthama slowly rose to his feet.

His gaze settled upon the towering Rakshasa General.

There was no outrage in his eyes over the surprise attack.

No accusations of dishonor.

He had fought too many wars to expect fairness from an enemy.

A battlefield was not an arena.

Victory belonged to the one who survived.

Across the field,

Kravyadanta rested the enormous cleaver upon his shoulder once more, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

"Now..."

he rumbled,

"...this is beginning to feel like a proper hunt."

Ashwatthama silently discarded the broken shield.

The fragments struck the ground with a dull clang.

His grip tightened around his sword.

The battle had changed.

The beasts were no longer the greatest threat.

Their master had finally entered the hunt himself.

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(Author note:)

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