"Om~ Praise to Goddess Parvati!"
"Om~ Praise to Goddess Lakshmi!"
Praises! Songs of worship! Cries of war!
All these sounds converged, layer upon layer, like a grand festival resounding across the battlefield.
Indra stood before this colossal city.
His expression was tranquil, like a warrior who had long been ready to accept a challenge, his gaze fixed on Ax-wielding Rama.
His hands were not clutching a weapon but were joined in prayer.
He was muttering under his breath.
"What?"
"Great Heavenly Emperor, great sage, wielder of the Vajra Pestle!"
"Why do you pray here instead of accepting my challenge!"
Ax-wielding Rama furrowed his brow.
He suddenly felt a strange sensation, as if he were the villainous king, and the Indra before him was an ascetic upholding the Righteous Law.
Something was amiss!
Dark clouds enveloped the pitch-black sky, with fierce winds sweeping through, scattering Indra's black hair.
Whoosh!
