Karna's POV:
"What!? You want to burn them alive?"
I couldn't hold it in. I had dealt with rage before—mine and others'—but this? This was something else. This was disgust. Pure, boiling disgust.
Gandharraj Shakuni smirked like a man who'd just laid the perfect trap. That wretched man. I've met all kinds of fighters on the battlefield, but I've never met a man so vile, so shameless, as Shakuni.
And honestly... for once, I couldn't even blame mitra—Suyodhana—for the decisions he's made in anger. How could I, when I've seen how deeply he and his brothers have been poisoned from childhood by this snake of a man?
Yes, I want Suyodhana to become king. Yes, I would give my life for him.
But not like this. Not by turning five warriors—five brothers—into ashes while they sleep. That is not the way of a warrior. That is not the way of dharma.
This morning, I was called to a "small meeting" about an important matter. The way Shakuni said it should've tipped me off.
When I arrived, it was just me, Suyodhana, Sushasana, Shakuni, and three shady men with the kind of faces you'd expect to see cheating dice in an alley behind a tavern.
I didn't like it. And I liked it even less once the truth came out.
These men weren't advisors or priests. They were arsonists. Tools.
Shakuni laid out the plan like he was announcing a celebration.
A trip to Varnavat. A beautiful house made of lacquer—a "gift" for the Pandavas, for their victory and future success. A quiet place. Peaceful.
Flammable. Deadly.
A house meant to become a tomb.
"They'll be dead before they even smell the smoke," Shakuni chuckled, as if he were discussing the menu for a feast.
I stood up. My chair scraped the floor behind me.
"What kind of Kshatriyas are we, if we kill men in their sleep? You want to burn them alive? That's your brilliant plan?"
Shakuni's eyes narrowed, but I didn't care. Let him glare. Let him hate.
Let him fear me.
I turned to Suyodhana.
"Mitra, I will die for you and your brothers—on any battlefield, against any enemy. But I will not support you in such a cowardly act."
He looked shaken. For once, he didn't speak. I saw it in his eyes—he wasn't sure. Maybe he hadn't really thought this far ahead. Or maybe he had, and just didn't want to see the blood on his own hands.
But Shakuni jumped in again like a shadow clinging to fire.
"Duryodhan, my child! Don't throw away such a brilliant opportunity. Think of your future. Of your kingdom."
Still, I pressed on.
"If you want to be king, then earn it. Win hearts. Win battles. Don't win it by murder in the dark. That's not what we were born to be."
I stepped forward, placing a hand over my heart.
"I will give you everything—my sword, my loyalty, my life—but not my soul. I will not sell my dharma for a throne soaked in oil and blood."
Suyodhana's mouth opened, but no words came out.
So I left it there.
"Think, mitra. Think hard. Because I need your consent, your honor, in every step of this. Not your silence."
Shakuni tried one last jab, mocking me with that oily voice.
"Such a good friend, Angaraj Karna. So noble. I hope you prove useful to my nephew after all."
I stared at him for a long moment.
"Oh, I will be useful, Gandharraj. Just not in the way you imagine."
He didn't like that.
As I left the room, I clenched my fists. My thoughts were already racing.
Among the Pandavas, I had only truly spoken to one.
Arjuna.
Of all of them, only he had stood before me like an equal. Only he had made me feel like I belonged, even in our rivalry.
He wasn't in Hastinapur at the moment.
But I knew what I had to do.
I would find him. And I would warn him.
Let Shakuni think I'm his pawn. Let the court whisper about loyalty.
But this... this is my decision.
I will not let five innocent men be murdered in their sleep.
Not while I still draw breath.
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