King of Devas

Patalaloka: The Asura Temple

The temple stood in shadow, its massive pillars towering like ancient sentinels. Deep scratches from knives and axes adorned the stone, each mark a testament to its age and the violent history of the Asuras. Flames flickered around the temple's perimeter, their light casting eerie patterns on the walls and illuminating faces that alternated between bright and shadowed.

Within the temple, many Asura generals had gathered. They were a diverse assembly—tall or short, fat or thin—but each radiated a fierce, malevolent aura that filled the space with tension.

"I have brought a message. General Vajranga has begun intense penance and will not be attending!"

The sudden report from an Asura soldier broke the uneasy quiet.

Puloman, seated near the center, maintained a calm demeanor. His gaze, however, drifted toward the depths of the temple. At its heart was a raised platform, shrouded in dim light. It was empty save for a dark, imposing throne that loomed in the center. To Puloman, the throne seemed to pulse with an almost magnetic glow.

That was where Hiranyaksha once sat.

"Since Vajranga is occupied with his penance," Puloman began, his voice measured and commanding, "there is no need to wait for him. We must proceed with the discussion here and now."

He stood, pointing a finger toward the gathered generals, his gaze sweeping across the room.

"A Kingdom cannot remain without a ruler, nor can its land go untended. The Asuras need a king. The time has come to decide who will take the throne!"

The generals exchanged glances, their expressions tense. Among them stood notable figures: Viprachitti, Simhika, Shumbha, and Nishumbha. All were once loyal to Hiranyaksha, but his death had left them uncertain, their unity fragile.

"Where is the Asura guru? Without him who will do the Rājyābhiṣeka?" Simhika suddenly demanded, her sharp voice cutting through the murmurs.

Shukracharya, the revered mentor of the Asuras, was pivotal in matters as significant as selecting a new king. His absence was conspicuous and troubling.

Puloman sighed deeply, adopting a look of sorrow. "Alas! After being angered by Hiranyaksha's actions, the teacher has left us. His whereabouts are unknown. Despite our efforts, we have been unable to find him."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the room. "But the throne of the Asura King cannot remain vacant. We have no choice but to proceed without him and choose a new ruler."

Puloman's tone was resolute, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of dissent.

The gathered generals remained silent, their faces grim as the flames reflected their inner turmoil.

The group standing before Puloman comprised the current Asura generals in power. They were formidable individuals, commanding significant influence and numerous supporters.

Yet Puloman was not intimidated. In his eyes, defeating them would not be overly challenging.

The ones he truly feared were Hiranyaksha, Hiranyakashipu, and Vajranga. Against their might, even he could not prevail. But these generals? They were within his reach, especially with the subtle and deceptive powers of Maya at his disposal.

Puloman held the sons of the mighty Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu in utter disdain.

Hiranyakashipu's son, Saṃhrāda, was wholly unremarkable. His military skills were lackluster, his presence almost insignificant—hardly a figure worth acknowledging. As for his other son, Prahlada, he was nothing more than an infant, utterly inconsequential in Puloman's eyes.

Then there was Hiranyaksha's adopted son—a source of endless amusement to Puloman. The child, found abandoned in the wild, was lucky enough to be taken in and adopted by Hiranyaksha as his stepson. The boy was named Andhaka.

What Puloman found most laughable was that Andhaka was blind. A blind man could never become king. And if he dared to claim the throne, it would only lead to his ruin.

"A blind son!" Puloman thought with disdain. "What could a blind man possibly achieve? He isn't even an Asura. No matter how desperate the Asuras might become, the throne would never fall to someone like him!"

Viprachitti interrupted Puloman's thoughts. "The teacher is absent, and Hiranyakashipu and Vajranga are still immersed in their penance. Perhaps it's better to wait before making any decisions," he suggested cautiously.

Puloman's lips curled in a faint sneer. Viprachitti clearly underestimated the dangers they faced. Did he not understand the strength of the brothers Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu? And once Hiranyakashipu completed his rigorous training, who knew what terrifying new power he might wield?

"That's too late!" Puloman countered sharply. "The Devas have already obtained the Amrita. If they decide to retaliate for our actions at the Kshira Sagara and lead the Svarga's army against us, it will be too late to act! We must make a choice now!"

At that moment, Shumbha stepped forward. His piercing blue eyes and golden markings on his forehead gave him a commanding presence. He waved dismissively and let out a cold snort.

"In that case, let the rules of the world decide," Shumbha declared. "Strength is what matters. The strongest among us should claim the throne of the Asura King. Whoever wins in battle shall rule."

"I agree," said Niṣumbha without hesitation.

Puloman allowed a faint smile to grace his face. "Good! That makes it three to two. So be it!"

With a triumphant expression, Puloman strode out of the hall, his steps confident, and his hand gesturing grandly, as though the Asura throne was already within his grasp.

Boom!

Boom!

The ground trembled violently as if the earth itself was about to be turned inside out. Terrifying shockwaves spread across the land, sending ripples through the very fabric of the world. At the edges of the land, the tectonic plates cracked open, and scarlet magma erupted, spilling out in torrents. The searing heat and the pungent stench of sulfur filled the air, spreading like a plague.

Endless waves of sand and debris rained down from the temple, crashing to the ground and disintegrating into countless fragments of dust.

Inside the temple, everyone was thrown off balance, swaying helplessly from side to side, unable to regain their footing.

"The power of penance!"

"This is the power of ascetic practice—an energy so great it reaches beyond the sky. Someone must have pleased Brahama or Shiva through their pure devotion!"

Viprachitti staggered, his eyes locked on the outside of the temple. An invisible force shot out into the world, tearing through everything it encountered, destroying all in its path.

!!!

Puloman's face twisted with fury. His eyes bulged, bloodshot and glowing a deep scarlet, his expression a jumbled mix of resentment, anger, and disbelief. His hands clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. Through gritted teeth, he forced out the words, his voice hoarse with rage.

"Hiranyakashipu!!!"

....

Brahma Loka

A blue-white holy light filled the air, and the fragrant scent of lotus flowers drifted through it. Goddess Sarasvati sat cross-legged upon a lotus, a serene smile in her eyes. In her arms, she gently played the veena, filling the air with the enchanting music of Svarga.

It was another beautiful day in Brahma Loka, though there was one presence that marred the peace.

Brahma sat on a lotus, his snow-white eyebrows slightly raised as his eyes lowered to rest on a chubby, grinning sage below.

This muni perhaps the happiest man in the Triloka, wore a bright orange-red robe and a fragrant garland around his neck. His ever-present, cheerful smile seemed to radiate ease and contentment, and he held a veena of his own.

He was the wandering muni, Narada—ever mischievous, ever bold.

"Narayana Naryana~" Narada Muni chanted, his voice lilting with reverence as he praised Vishnu, his Lord. Then, with a grin, he spread his arms and said, "Father, all the Devas in Svarga have returned, and the threat of Hiranyaksha has been dealt with. Can I leave now?"

Brahma's expression remained unchanged.

"I know you can come and go as you please in the Brahma Loka. There is nothing here to stop you." He paused, his gaze hardening slightly. "But you were the one who told Shukracharya about the Amrita and allowed him to run off to the Kshira Sagara with Hiranyaksha. It caused a great deal of trouble. I had hoped you would remain in peace for a while, but if you refuse, I will have no choice but to keep a closer eye on you."

"Why do you want me to become entangled in family life? Instead, seek the path to Mukti." Narada had asked Haryashvas and Shabalashvas, who were created by Prajapati Daksha to populate the earth.

Narada had tricked the thousand sons of the great Prajapati Daksha, convincing them all to become ascetics and lead a life of renunciation, leaving Daksha with nothing but a multitude of daughters.

This infuriated Prajapati Daksha, who, in his anger, cursed Narada Rishi to never have a fixed abode.

Narada Muni, however, accepted the curse with a smile, pleased by it. He relished the freedom it granted him. The curse allowed him to wander without restrictions, traveling across the Triloka at will, making it easier for him to cause trouble and enjoy himself.

"This is all Rishi Shukracharya's doing," Narada Muni mused, tilting his head and spreading his hands with a soft smile. "I never told him to share this with the Asuras."

"Hum~" Brahma couldn't help but roll his eyes at Narada's words.

At that moment, the sounds of praise echoed throughout Brahma Loka, and the sacred air reverberated, sending ripples through the blue expanse of the realm.

"Om Brahamane namah~"

"Om Brahamane namah~"

…

"There are believers who have achieved perfection through penance!"

Amidst the praises, Brahma's expression gradually softened, and a sense of joy filled his heart. With a smile, golden light radiated from his body, and he vanished from Brahma Loka.

Narada Muni's eyes sparkled at this sight. He clasped his hands together and exclaimed in surprise, "Narayana Narayana~" He then turned and quietly left.

"Narada~ Nath asked you to stay here." The sweet voice of Devi Sarasvati called out behind him.

"I'm just going for a walk!" Narada Muni turned, spreading his hands and shrugging with an embarrassed smile.

Devi Sarasvati smiled, but her silence spoke volumes. She didn't believe him.

Narada Muni clasped his hands together, a pleading look crossing his face as he addressed her, "Please let me go, Mother!"

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Rājyābhiṣeka is a Sanskrit term that refers to the ceremonial consecration or coronation of a ruler or king, marking their formal anointment and ascension to the throne.

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