After the convoy departed, there was a relieved expression on the faces of many villagers. It was like a load had been lifted off from their chests. The past month was a hassle to prepare all the offerings for the Rakshasa. At least their village would be safe for another eight months to come by.
The village chief looked at the relieved villagers then towards the departing convoy. He had a conflicted expression on his face. Their village was located in the remote corner of the Kuru Kingdom, though they were part of the kingdom; there was hardly any protection from the capital. There was no providence for them to rely upon, unlike the large city closest to the Capital. They had requested many times in nearby cities for an Ashvarohi to come and slay the Rakshasa. An Ashvarohi was a warrior who was capable of riding a horse efficiently and whose prowess was equivalent to twelve foot-soldiers.
As there was a difference in the social standing of each Varna, there was a hierarchy among these Varnas as well. Usually, their request was denied, rejected, or altogether ignored since their small village has a little to offer for the services of such a powerful person. Thus despite their constant pleading, they have been kicked away like stray dogs from these cities. They had no choice but to whimper back to their hellhole of a village.
As for migration, that was never considered to be an option. The people from the higher echelon of society in the village enjoyed various privileges built by their ancestors. Migrating to a town or city would pull them back to the bottom of the hierarchy. They would build everything from scratch in the new place and it would take years of blood and sweat to get a decent position. Honestly, all the effort wasn't considered worth the reward. So, they continued to stay in this village despite the big axe of the Rakshasa hanging down their neck. At least the Rakshasa was reasonable enough to not overdo things by mindlessly slaughtering the entire village. He was content with some offerings of food and ration and a small child.
The Rakshasa also knew his limits, if he needlessly massacred the entire village, the higher-ups in the large cities can't sit idly and watch. As they would have to reassess the threat and would have to take drastic measures to slay the Rakshasa. Normal weapons were useless against such creatures.
A normal sword or saber would only leave some small cuts on their skin and would be regenerated in a fraction of seconds. Clubs and hammers weren't able to dent their almost Vajra like flesh. The fire wasn't able to burn them, water wasn't able to drown them. These Rakshasas and other creatures were born with unholy strength, a body impervious to many elements and inherent spells capable of devastating large amounts of landmasses similar to a natural calamity.
Even a low-level Rakshasa could only be killed by a bunch of Ashvarohi. A Ardharathi can easily slay a bunch of low-level Rakshasa like cutting radishes and carrots without the need of a Divya Astra. As for rank above Ardharathi were people of Legends, such people would have at least slain a high-tier Rakshasa.
Divya Astras were powerful weapons summoned by chanting specific mantras to deities, who would then infuse a weapon with a tint of their blessing or their divinity; leading to different tiers of Divya Astras with the former being a lower tier and the latter being a higher tier. Rathi and Maharathi had multiple blessings of deities on their being, thus their body being equivalent to a Divya Astra.
Reaching the ranks of Rathi and Maharathi isn't an easy task. Most of them were born with supreme traits as an infant or were blessed by Gods and Deities as an infant. Such a person was expected to lead humanity to prosperity and spread Dharma across the lands. However, this is only one of the factor, the other factor is being able to find a suitable Teacher or Guru to instruct and lead a person to greater heights. If the Guru was incompetent, no matter how higher of birth you have, your achievements would be limited. Similarly, a competent Guru can make a low born person into a Rathi capable of instilling terror in the hearts of their foes.
As for the realm of the Maharathi, that requires higher birth, a competent Guru, and most importantly one's fortune and luck. Yes, luck, it is an incomprehensible entity. It can't be measured or weighed. But it is ever-present twisting and turning the invisible strings of life and fate leading to certain events which could only be coined as miracles.
And yet today such an incomprehensible thing was about to happen to a seemingly unimportant lad of an unimportant village. Sometimes fate likes to play such inconvincible games on mortals that may affect their destiny forever. However, nothing is free in this world, if one thing is given then another thing of equal value is taken as well. Such is the cruelty of life and fate.
As the gears of fate and world were turning towards a certain direction leading to a seemingly unimportant development in the eyes of a major power.
Flashing back time to a few hours ago,
Today was an important day in the village. Many workers and servants were loading various carts lined at the entrance of the village. There were hustle and bustle in the village, many people were whispering to each other with a tensed expression. There was a gloomy atmosphere in the village.
Influential people of the village were avoiding the manor of the fat landlord like a plague. There was a mourning environment inside the boundary walls of the manor. Inside the manor, a fat lady was bowling her eyes. She was hugging a nine-year-old child who was sobbing non-stop. The fat landlord was staring at this scene with teary eyes. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down and ordered the nearby servants.
The servants grabbed hold of Raicharan and parted him from his mother. Quickly some maids approached the Raicharan to bathe and dress him new clothes for the offering. A set of new clothes and a proper bath was always provided by the village to the offering. Seeing, the departing back of her son, the fat landlady bowled even more loudly as she weakly slumped on the floor and stared lifelessly in the direction of her son. The fat landlord walked up to her and consoled her. He quickly dismissed all the servants and began to divulge the plan to her wife. The eyes of fat lay lit up, she regained some color on her face and accused the fat landlord,
"Why didn't you tell me about this plan of yours earlier? Look at how worried I am. I even lost some of my weight during the previous month."
The fat landlord sweatdropped at it and muttered, "It was a secret plan, how it could be disclosed so easily? Even the wall has ears. What if it was heard by some maid and disclosed to the mother of that peasant. We can't have our revealed do we?" The fat landlord reassured his wife again and silently prayed to God.
Later in the afternoon, before the departure of the convoy, the fat landlord summoned Rudra and ordered him to go deeper into the forest of Death and collect herbs. These herbs were required urgently as the health of the landlady was in peril. The Vaidhji urgently required these herbs to treat the landlady. The fat landlord asked Rudra to hurry up or else it would be too late to save her life.
The convoy finally departed for the Forest of Death. Raicharan was sitting on the frontmost cart musing over the plan of his father and assessing the credibility of it. He had full trust in the judgment of his father but was skeptical about the nature and abilities of the Rakshasa. He began to doubt the certainty of the plan and hoped the Rakshasa would spare him.
Meanwhile, Rudra hurriedly ran towards the forest of Death. The life of the fat landlady was in danger and to save her, he needs to collect herbs as soon as possible. He went deeper inside the forest without even considering the possibility of danger lurking towards him. He soon came across a stream of water flowing from a mountain located further away. The herbs he needed to collect were located here. After searching for a while, he found the herbs and began to collect them. He collected the herbs for an hour and felt thirsty and exhausted.
Rudra went near the bank of the stream and clasped his small hands together and scooped out some water to drink. The water was very sweet and cool to drink. It got rid of his fatigue and spread a cooling sensation all over his body. He inhaled deeply and went back to collect the herbs.
Suddenly, an intoxicating fragrance began to spread in the surroundings. Breathing in the fragrance, Rudra began to salivate subconsciously. His stomach growled and he began to look around for the source of the scent. It has been a while since he last had a sumptuous meal. This enchanting fragrance roused his hunger as he drooled and swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
Soon, he located the source of the fragrance and began to run alongside the upstream towards the cave located at the bottom of the mountain.