Chapter 8: పార్టీవేంద్రుడి యుద్ధ ప్రకటన (Pārthivēndra's War Declaration)

Chapter 8: పార్టీవేంద్రుడి యుద్ధ ప్రకటన (Pārthivēndra's War Declaration)

Friendship... it is a strange alchemy, my boy.

a strange ,powerful one. If ever one soul truly becomes the friend of another, that bond becomes unbreakable. It crosses the rigid borders of class.

We saw this between our Vīra and the Divine Royal Family. It began, as many great things do, with suspicion—a doubt that perhaps this boy was connected to the ancient prophecy.

Because of this bond, the Royal Family stopped looking at Vīra as a 'Subject of Prophecy' and started seeing him as family. And this change... it rippled through the stone streets of Maniyanūru. The class system, for a thousand years, began to dissolve. 

We saw it happen in the Rāja Paṭṭābhiṣēkaṁ. When the King commands that a servant sit with a lord, the world changes. History was repeating itself, but in a new form: the idea that in front of the Divine, everyone is equal.

But history is a wheel that crushes as it turns. This friendship, this new golden age, was about to face a major test. It wasn't a test of loyalty, or of wealth.

It was a test against One Man’s Ego. Or perhaps... the ego of a man who had become almost a God.

Scene 1: The Court Assembles

The massive doors of the Royal Court of Maniyanūru groaned open, signaling the beginning of King Rāghavēndra’s first official day of rule. The hall was a masterpiece of architecture, lined with pillars of polished obsidian and gold, the floor shimmering like still water.

The air buzzed with the murmurs of a thousand voices. Slowly, they arrived—the machinery of the empire. Minor kings with jeweled turbans, village chiefs in rough-spun silk, elites dripping in pearls, ministers clutching scrolls, and battle-scarred generals.

Among them walked the Chiefs of the rival villages: Kīlūru, Lekūru, Mūvūrū, and Avunūru. They walked with their noses in the air, expecting the usual hierarchy to be restored now that the festival madness was over.

And then, they stopped dead.

There, in the front rows—seats usually reserved for the highest nobility—sat the "Royal Friends."

Vīra. Tim’mayya. Their parents, looking uncomfortable but proud in their fine clothes.

Chief Venkatayya of Manūru and his wife.

Rangayya.

And next to them... Kēsavu and the other servants.

The Chief of Avunūru’s face turned a shade of puce. He turned to the Chiefs of Kīlūru and Lekūru, pointing a trembling finger.

Chief of Avunūru: "Look at that. They are here! The coronation is over! Why are they polluting the Royal Court too?"

Rangayya, seated comfortably with one leg crossed over the other, heard him. He didn't shrink away. He stood up, smoothing his silk tunic, and walked over to the group of rival chiefs.

Rangayya: "Are you shocked, Chief of Avunūru? To see my friends and their parents here? To see my men sitting where you wish you could sit?"

The Chief of Avunūru sneered. "It is a mockery of tradition, Rangayya. A temporary madness of the young King."

Rangayya stepped closer, invading the Chief's personal space. His voice dropped to a growl.

Rangayya: "We got a special invitation to attend the Royal Court, just like you guys. Perhaps even more special than yours."

He narrowed his eyes.

Rangayya: "And I heard what you said yesterday. What the hell did you say about my friends? About Vīra and Tim'ma? And about Kēsavu and my other men?"

He mimicked the Chief’s voice mockingly.

Rangayya: "'Damn farmers and servants.' Is that what you said? And what did you say about my right hand, Kēsavu? That he cleans our sandals?"

Kēsavu, sitting a few feet away, clenched his fists, his eyes burning with a newfound dignity.

Rangayya: "How dare you say such things! Vīra, Tim'ma... and including Kēsavu and my other men... they are like my own brothers! Do you understand that word, or is your heart too shriveled to know it?"

The court fell silent around them.

Rangayya: "You are alive after saying such words back then only because you were at the ceremony, and I respect the King's peace. But now... if this were my village Manūru...."

The Chief of Avunūru trembled with rage. His hand twitched toward the ceremonial dagger at his waist.

Chief of Avunūru: "You... you will pay for this, Rangayya! You and your upstart farmers!"

Rangayya smiled—a cold, dangerous smile.

Rangayya: "We will see about that. But don't ever dare to insult my friends again. Or you will get more humiliation than ever before! Now... sit down, Chief of Avunūru."

It was a command, not a suggestion. The Chiefs of Kīlūru, Lekūru, Mūvūru, and Avunūru felt a murderous rage boiling in their guts, but they looked around. They saw the Royal Guards watching. They saw the respect Vīra commanded. They swallowed their pride and sat down, fuming.

Scene 2: The King Ascends

"ATTENTION!"

"ALERT! HIS DIVINESHIP KING RĀGHAVĒNDRA AND THE DIVINE ROYAL FAMILY APPROACH!"

The entire court rose as one.

Through the golden archway, they came. They wore the same resplendent attire from the coronation, a symbol that the celebration was not yet over.

King Rāghavēndra walked first, his stride long and powerful. He looked every inch the System Breaker.

Behind him walked the Former Great King Manirāja, looking frail but proud.

Queen Mother Rathnavallī, elegant and serene.

And Princess Nīlavēṇi, her blue eyes scanning the room until they landed on Vīra.

She smiled. Vīra smiled back, a secret communication in a room full of people.

King Rāghavēndra ascended the steps to the Elevated Golden Jeweled Throne. He sat, the heavy thud of his presence signaling the start of the session.

His family took the thrones just below him.

Raghavendra looked out at the assembly—Ministers, Generals, Elites, Farmers, and Servants.

King Rāghavēndra: "Welcome, everyone."

His voice echoed, deep and resonant.

King Rāghavēndra: "I ordered you all to stay in the city and appear in this Royal Court today. Not for business as usual. But to let you all see... and know... exactly how my rule will be. Let my first court BEGIN!"

"HAIL KING RĀGHAVĒNDRA!"

The cheer rocked the hall. Vīra felt a surge of pride for his friend. The kingdom felt invincible.

Scene 3: The Message from the Shadows

The cheering died down.

From the section reserved for foreign dignitaries, a figure stood up. It was the Representative of Girivūru, one of the Four Great Kingdoms.

He did not look happy. He looked... conflicted. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He held a scroll tube in his hands as if it were a venomous snake.

Representative of Girivūru: "Your Divineship... King Rāghavēndra..."

Raghavendra leaned forward. "Speak, Ambassador."

Representative of Girivūru: "Our Divine Prince... the Prince of Girivūru... ordered me to present you this message."

A hush fell over the room.

Raghavendra frowned. He looked at his father, Manirāja, then at his mother and sister.

King Rāghavēndra: "He sent a message? The Prince of Girivūru? After such a long time? He took years to send us anything. Why now?"

In the friend's section, Vīra leaned over to Rangayya.

Vīra (whispering): "Who are they talking about? Who is the Prince of Girivūru?"

Rangayya shrugged, looking uneasy. "I don't know. Some foreign royalty. But look at the King's face... he looks worried."

King Rāghavēndra gestured to the Ambassador. "Read it out."

The Representative shook his head, clutching the scroll tighter.

Representative of Girivūru: "Forgive me, Your Divineship. Our Divine Prince ordered that only you should read it first."

The tension in the room spiked. This was a breach of protocol.

Raghavendra stood up from the Golden Throne. "Very well."

A servant took the scroll from the trembling Ambassador and carried it up the stairs. He handed it to the King.

Raghavendra broke the seal. It was black wax.

He unrolled the scroll.

The court watched in silence. Vīra watched his friend’s face.

At first, Raghavendra’s expression was curious. Then, it turned confused. Then... horror.

His eyes widened. His skin, usually flushed with vitality, turned the color of ash. Sweat drops broke out instantly on his brow, rolling down his nose.

His hands began to shake. The parchment rattled loudly in the silent hall.

Raghavendra stumbled. He took a step back, his legs giving way, and he fell back onto the Golden Throne, gasping as if he had been punched in the gut.

"My King!"

Servants and guards rushed forward. The Queen Mother stood up, alarmed. Princess Nīlavēṇi gripped the arm of her throne.

Everyone in the court was stunned. What could be written on a piece of paper that could knock the strongest warrior in the kingdom off his feet?

Raghavendra waved the servants away with a trembling hand. He wiped the sweat from his eyes. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

A Senior Minister rushed to the dais.

Minister: "What... what was in the letter, My Divineship?"

Raghavendra couldn't speak. He simply thrust the letter into the Minister's hand.

King Rāghavēndra (hoarse whisper): "Read it. Read it aloud."

The Minister took the scroll. He looked at the first few lines. His face went pale. He cleared his throat, his voice shaking as he began to read.

Scene 4: The Letter of Doom

The Minister’s voice echoed through the silent hall.

(Original Telugu Recitation)

(Translation)

O Mahārājyābhiṣikta (One Crowned to the Great Kingdom)! O Rāghavēndra Mahōdaya (Great Lord Rāghavēndra)

May the splendor of the throne you have ascended as the new Emperor shine a hundredfold — these are my good wishes.

Congratulations to you, who have been crowned as the Great King! I had hope that even after assuming the sovereignty, you would not forget the Rāja Dharma (King's duty), that you would desire the welfare of the state, and that you would rule pleasing to the people.

O King (Vasudhēśvaruḍā)! 

Do not rejoice merely because you have ascended the throne — listen to the truth!To save your lineage, abandon the wicked policies of your dynasty!

Nevertheless—The tale of that terrible humiliation that occurred in my Saptadaśa Vatsara Prāyamu (seventeenth year),Even now burns my heart like a Hutāśana (sacrificial fire/blaze).From that day forth, my every breath. Has stood restrained by fire, filled with the flames of revenge.The wheel of time itself has stood before me the moment is near.

For all these years, your kingdom has suppressed the development of other kingdoms,Destroying the wealth of all nations,And pushing them into a state of poverty financially (Ārthikamu gā).It is with the resolve to bring an end to this wicked policy (Durnīti) thatI am sounding the War Drum (Samarabheri) against you.

I grant you precisely three months' time—If you seek refuge (surrender), your lives may be saved.Otherwise, we shall meet on the battlefield (Raṇaraṅgamu)—be ready!

Thus—I, who am personally endowed with the strength of divine favor,The destroyer of the enemies,One with the heart of a lion,The God Pārthivēndruḍu (Parthivendra).

Scene 5: The Collapse

The name hung in the air like a guillotine blade.

"AAAAHH!"

The Minister who read the letter screamed. He dropped the scroll and fell to his knees, covering his face with his hands.

Minister: "W... W... WAR!! With... PĀRTHIVĒNDRA?!"

The reaction was instantaneous and catastrophic.

The Royal Guards, the elite soldiers who had just paraded their invincibility yesterday, dropped their spears. Their weapons clattered loudly on the marble floor. They fell to their knees.

Guard: "We are going to die... We are all going to die!"

Former King Manirāja, the man who had ruled for forty years with an iron fist, grabbed his chest. His face turned purple. He started coughing intensely, a hacking, wet sound that echoed in the silent hall.

"Manirāja!" Queen Rathnavallī grabbed him, her own face a mask of shock and despair.

Princess Nīlavēṇi went deathly pale. Her blue eyes, usually so sharp and perceptive, went wide and unfocused. She looked at her twin brother, King Rāghavēndra and then at Vīra.

Raghavendra sat on his throne, staring at nothing, stripped of all his new glory.

The Minor Kings, the Village Chiefs, the Elites... the Chiefs of Kīlūru, Lekūru, Mūvūrū, and Avunūru... all of them looked like they had been turned to stone. The arrogance of the Avunūru Chief was gone, replaced by the sheer terror of a prey animal sensing a tiger.

And in the friends' section...

Vīra, Tim’mayya, Rangayya, their parents, and the servants sat frozen. They didn't understand the history, but they understood the fear. They saw the most powerful people in the world crumbling before a single name.

Vīra looked at his friend, Rāghavēndra. He looked at his love, Princess Nīlavēṇi. He saw their trembling hands. He saw the absolute hopelessness in their eyes.

Vīra (Internal Monologue): "Who... Who is this man? Who is this Pārthivēndra? The Kingdom has fifteen thousand soldiers. We have elephants. We have chariots. We are invincible. Yet... one letter... one name... has made the Great Kingdom of Maniyanūru tremble like a leaf in a storm?"

The camera zooms in on Vīra's confused, terrified face, then cuts to the fallen scroll on the floor, the name PĀRTHIVĒNDRA visible in bold.

WHO IS PĀRTHIVĒNDRA?

(End of Chapter 8)