"I, Viswa, the son of Sura, accept my defeat," Viswa's loud voice resounded in the hemispherical symposium.
Utter silence fell in the crowd.
"I accept I'm inferior to Ishit, the son of Oman," Viswa finished , and got up from his seat, and kneeled before the lad.
The crowd blinked their eyes, some of them slapped their faces, or told their fellow apprentices to pinch them hard, as they couldn't believe their eyes and ears.
They scrutinized the man with silver in his hair and unkempt beard. The sullen face, the abyss- black eyes, and medallion forged with octa-metal (astha-dhatu), dangling from his neck, all these things told them he was Viswa, the most prideful smith of their guild and the best smith of the south. The man who had forged Lord Ayan's divya chakra, called 'Dhoom-ketu', . The same Divya astra that had incinerated Moriyan's army of undead in the battle of Haldi. (Note: we are not talking about zombies) .
