I opened my eyes to chaos. The battlefield stretched endlessly, torn apart by war, the air thick with the scent of blood and ash. Towering monsters, their bodies as vast as mountains, roared and lunged. My blade was already stained crimson, my muscles burning, but I didn't stop. I cut them down—one after another—until only the biggest one remained.

It loomed over me, its massive form blocking out the sky. Yet, I felt no fear. Instead, I closed my eyes.

A memory surfaced—soft and warm. A small village, laughter echoing in the fields. And her. My childhood best friend. The one I loved more than anything. We were inseparable… until the kingdom's soldiers came. They stormed into our village, ruthless and unyielding. And they took her. I screamed, I fought, but I was powerless.

My eyes snapped open. My grip tightened around my spear. I lifted it with renewed resolve and hurled it forward. The massive beast roared, but in the next instant, my weapon pierced through its skull. Silence followed. The ground trembled as the creature collapsed.

Then, the earth shook again—not from the fall, but from the countless other monsters rushing toward me. They swarmed, relentless and endless.

I closed my eyes once more. Her face appeared before me, just as I remembered—gentle, kind, waiting.

A whisper escaped my lips, a vow unbroken.

"No matter what happens to me… I will always protect you."

I tightened my grip on my spear and took a deep breath. The battlefield was alive with chaos, but to me, it was music—a deadly rhythm I had mastered.

With every step, my spear danced through the air, cutting down monsters by the thousands. Blood and dust swirled around me, but I didn't stop. Then, from the shadows, they emerged—the demons. Taller, stronger, deadlier. And I was alone.

Alone… but without fear.

The fight became fiercer. Hundreds of monsters and demons charged toward me, their eyes burning with hatred. But I met them head-on. I weaved between them, striking with precision. A monster lunged—I threw my weapon straight through its skull. Another swung its massive claw, but I dodged, catching it off balance. With raw strength, I grabbed a towering beast and hurled it into the demons, crushing them under its weight.

Panic spread through their ranks. Some demons hesitated, then turned to flee. The monsters followed, fear overtaking their savage hunger.

I stood amidst the ruins of war, my body battered but my resolve unshaken. I looked across the battlefield and spoke, my voice steady and unyielding.

"No one can touch my kingdom while I stand guard."

That's how he won the war. The battlefield lay silent behind him, the echoes of battle fading into the wind. He didn't celebrate, didn't look back. With steady steps, he walked toward his kingdom, as if nothing had happened.

His name was Viranath, a name that echoed power and destruction, much like Lord Shiva himself.

A warrior. A force of nature. The one who stood between his kingdom and annihilation.

And because of the New Year Radiation, humanity changed forever. Some people gained extraordinary powers, while others remained as they were—powerless, afraid. It wasn't long before war broke out. The world was divided. Some used their gifts for good, others for chaos, and those without power turned to desperate prayers.

But no god answered.

Humanity's cries went unheard as cities fell, and hope crumbled. Until one day, a voice descended from the heavens.

A goddess had answered.

Her name was Devayana, a name that carried the grace of Parvati and the wrath of a mother protecting her children. Her voice resonated through the hearts of the suffering, and she made a decree:

"Every 32 years, I will descend upon this world, reborn within a mortal girl. She will carry my spirit, my power, and when her time ends, I shall return again—32 years later."

And so, a prophecy was born. The cycle of war, gods, and destiny had begun.

The goddess Devayana spoke with a voice that echoed across the world.

"I will not take sides in your war. I will not wield a sword nor strike down your enemies. My power is only granted through prayer. If humanity seeks my protection, they must call upon me with faith. But know this—each time I descend, I will be reborn as a mortal girl, fragile and bound by human limits. I cannot fight. If I am to survive, someone must always stand as my shield."

And so, a sacred duty was born. With every cycle, a warrior would rise—not to seek power, not to rule, but to protect the goddess who carried the last hope of mankind.

Word spread across the kingdom—Devayana's rebirth had begun. The prophecy had returned, and with it, a great contest was declared.

Warriors from every corner of the land gathered, each one seeking the highest honor—to become the Guardian of the Goddess. The one who triumphed would be bound by duty, standing as her shield for as long as she lived.

Viranath watched as the strongest fighters prepared. Some wielded swords that could cleave mountains, others had powers gifted by the New Year Radiation. The arena would be a battlefield, where only the worthy would stand victorious.

But for him, this was not about honor, fame, or power.

He was not here to prove himself. He was here because he had made a promise.

With quiet resolve, he stepped forwarded

The contest was not just for mortals.

As the kingdom prepared for battle, the heavens stirred. The war that had torn humanity apart had caught the attention of the gods themselves. Some wished to guide mankind, others wished to rule it. And some simply wanted to test their own strength.

Thus, the Gods entered the contest.

They descended in human form, disguising their divine presence. Some were warriors of justice, others were ruthless beings who saw this as a game. To stand against them was to challenge the very forces that shaped the universe.

Yet, Viranath did not waver.

"Let gods or monsters stand before me—it does not matter. I fight not for power, not for glory… but for her."

With that, he took his place in the contest, ready to face both men and gods alike

To Be Continue