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墨書 Inktalez
Inside the inn, the thin gauze on the window gently swayed with the breeze, allowing sunlight to filter into the room, creating beams of light that danced on the wooden floor, forming speckled patterns. Shiva walked to the window and looked at the bustling Patalliro citizens outside. He let out a slow breath, feeling the weariness in his body and mind.
He turned and walked towards the inn's room. The room was not large, but it was extremely clean and tidy. A soft bed was placed in the center of the room, and on one side by the window was a small desk and chair, with an oil lamp and some books on the table. Shiva sat on the bed, gently massaging his tired temples, then lay down, intending to rest for a while.
Outside the window, the sunlight gradually slants, illuminating the streets of Patalliro with golden light interweaving with the crowd, creating a beautiful scene. Meanwhile, inside the room, Shiva gradually falls into sleep, still recalling the conversation with the boss and the information obtained in his mind.
Shiva once again falls into a dream, finding himself on the battlefield of Kurukshetra, a grand epic battle. In the distant sky, a huge chariot floats slowly in the air, with the famous warrior Arjuna and his charioteer Krishna standing on it. On the other side of the battlefield, there are numerous generals and soldiers, including Arjuna's brothers and relatives, their eyes filled with sadness and determination.
Shiva can feel the heaviness of this war. Every warrior is fighting for their faith and righteousness. No one wants to see this family bloodshed, but the irony of fate has made it all inevitable.
As the sound of war drums fills the air, the two armies begin to clash. The soldiers around Shiva shout loudly, the sound of swords and shields clashing, the neighing of warhorses, and the rain of arrows form a thrilling symphony. He sees Arjuna wielding his bow and arrows, each shot hitting its mark. His figure on the battlefield is like a lightning bolt, taking a life with every shot.
However, even so, the enemy forces still had the upper hand. Their numbers were too great, and some of their generals were remarkably skilled in combat. Shiva watched as his soldiers fell one by one, feeling the breath of despair.
In the dust of the battlefield, a general in golden armor rode out from the enemy camp on a fiery red warhorse. His golden armor gleamed in the sunlight, and his long spear moved like a sinuous snake in his hand. Though his face was obscured by a helmet, his cold, indifferent eyes revealed him to be a seasoned and formidable warrior.
The general rode to the center of the battlefield, raised his long spear, and let out a sharp war cry. His roar was as thunderous as it was shocking, causing both armies on the battlefield to pause for a moment, then erupt into fervent cheers and applause. Clearly, this general commanded great respect in both armies.
"Who dares to battle me!" he declared loudly, his voice echoing across the battlefield. No one answered, only silence.
At that moment, Arjuna rode out in his chariot, his large bow already strung with arrows, his gaze firmly fixed on the golden-armored general. He coldly said, "I accept your challenge."
The two stood facing each other, and the surrounding battlefield suddenly became unusually quiet, with only occasional sounds of horse hooves and clashing weapons. Shiva stood to the side, able to keenly sense the intense fighting spirit and pressure emanating from these two leaders.
The general in golden armor launched the first attack, charging towards Arjuna on horseback with his spear aimed at his heart. However, Arjuna calmly drew his bow and shot arrows, each flying out like lightning, but the general in golden armor was very agile and successfully dodged each arrow.
When Shiva recognized the general in golden armor as Garna, his heart stirred. This hero not only holds an important position in Indian epics, but is also a character he had heard his mentor talk about since he was young. Garna, a life filled with tragedy and glory, struggled between the gods and heroes, searching for his own place.
Arjuna and Garna's confrontation is like the collision of thunder and gale. Both represent different destinies and beliefs. Arjuna's divine arrow is the culmination of his years of practice, while Garna's divine spear represents his lifetime of honor and effort. As they each demonstrate their unique skills, the atmosphere on the battlefield suddenly becomes even more tense.
The war drums sound, deafening, and the soldiers of both armies await this moment. When Arjuna draws his bow, a shimmering divine arrow instantly shoots out, and Garna also without any hesitation, grips his divine spear and charges towards Arjuna like the wind.
When the divine arrow and the divine spear collided, they produced a huge pillar of light that shot straight into the sky. This pillar of light was filled with golden, blue, and purple flames, as if representing the intertwining of their destinies. The entire battlefield seemed to be illuminated under this pillar of light, and all the soldiers, whether friend or foe, were stunned by this spectacular sight.
Then, everything exploded in an instant. The massive shockwave scattered the surrounding soldiers, and the entire battlefield was engulfed by this surge of energy. Just as the explosion's energy was about to engulf Shiva, time seemed to stop.
Only Shiva can move in this still moment. He sees flames, smoke, and debris all frozen in the air, and the deep voice resounds once again: "Death will be ever-present."
The voice seems to come from the depths of the universe, both distant and clear. Shiva tries to find the source of this voice, but in this boundless space, he only feels his own insignificance and helplessness.
Suddenly, the dream began to disintegrate, and Shiva felt a tremendous force pulling him back to reality. When he woke up again, he found himself still lying in the bed of the inn, with the sounds of the outside world once again entering his ears.
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