Satyapriya and Satyak, their faces drained of color, rushed to the garden, panic coursing through them because they hadn't seen Satyashree in bed. Meanwhile, Satyaki, armed with a sword and barely containing his fury, barreled through the gathering crowd. His determination to protect his younger brother radiated like a beacon.

Krishna and Balram, alerted by the cries, arrived swiftly, their presence commanding attention. Vasudev, Devaki, Rohini, and the other wives, clad in their night garments, followed closely, worry twisting their expressions. Gad and Babhru rushed to the scene, their expressions matching the urgency of the moment.

Maharaj Ugrasen and Akrur also arrived, their expressions a mixture of shock and disbelief. The sight of the asur's lifeless form sent waves of horror through the elders, his eyes wide open in a final expression of terror.. Yet, the most startling image was that of the youngest Yadava, Satyashree, standing amidst the chaos, his small frame alight with an otherworldly glow. The air was thick with tension, a sharp contrast to the peaceful slumber that enveloped Mathura moments before.

Satyashree, unfazed, let Chhayavritti's still-beating heart tumble from his grasp, thudding against the earth. He then stretched out his arms toward Satyapriya, his innocence returning like a gentle breeze. Satyapriya rushed forward, her heart racing, wrapping her arms around him, instinctively retreating a few steps from the asur's body.

"Tum thik toh ho ? Yaha kaise aaye ? Aur yeh Asur ? Yeh sab kya ho raha hai !?" she bombarded him with questions, her voice a blend of relief and fear.

Satyashree smiled playfully, unfazed by the chaos, "Yeh dusht Asur humare Rajbhavan mei ghus aya. Maine ise iske kukarmo ka dand diya hai."

The elders exchanged worried glances, concerns etched on their faces. Maharaj Ugrasen stepped forward, his brows furrowing deeper, "Kya tumne iss Asur ka vadh akele kiya, vats ?"

Satyashree simply nodded, a proud yet innocent smile gracing his lips. The gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air, but Satyaki broke the tension with a chuckle. "Wah ! Wah ! Wah mere bhai !"

Satyashree grinned but Satyapriya, however, was not amused. "Satyaki ! Tumne hi bigaad ke rakha hai ise !"

"Maine ?!" Satyaki blinked in disbelief, his jovial spirit dampened by her reprimand.

Meanwhile, Krishna and Balram exchanged a knowing glance, a smile creeping across their lips. The elders and others however fell in whispers.

Akrur said, "Balak atyant shaktishali hai."

"Hoga kyu nahi, Gargacharya ne kaha tha ki yeh swayam Shreeshaktiswar hai." Vasudev said.

Looking at the body of Chhayavritti, Gad commented, "Dekho toh, sidha hridaye nikal diya."

"Satyaki ke bhai se aur kya apeksha ki jaa sakti hai ?" Babhru replied.

Rohini joined her hands, "Ishvar ki kripa hai, balak surakshit hai."

"Ha. Prabhu ka koti koti dhanywaad ki Satyashree ko kuch nahi huya." Devaki too thanked the lord.

They spoke in hushed tones, marveling at the unexpected courage of the youngest Yadava, whose innocent facade had concealed a warrior's spirit. The garden buzzed with reverence, the legacy of divine strength apparent in Satyashree's actions.

One by one, the elders began to disperse, their initial shock gradually fading into a quiet admiration. Before leaving, Krishna smiled knowingly and flicked his wrist. In an instant, Chhayavritti's body vanished, leaving no trace behind. The night returned to its calm, but the echoes of Satyashree's bravery lingered in the air.
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In the dimly lit hall, the air thick with tension, Arishtak paced back and forth like a caged beast. His brow furrowed, eyes darting as if seeking answers hidden in the shadows. The ornate carvings of the walls, depicting ancient battles, seemed to mock his turmoil.

Opposite him, Mayantak sat on an ornate throne crafted from dark wood and inlaid with silver runes, his posture relaxed yet betraying an undercurrent of tension. He absently tapped his fingers against the armrest, the rhythmic sound punctuating the silence.

"Krishneshwari ki raksha Narayan kar rahe hai, ya Shreeshaktiswar..." Mayantak mused aloud, his voice smooth yet laced with an undercurrent of anxiety.

Suddenly, a heavy thud resonated through the hall, breaking the silence. Both asuras turned sharply as a lifeless body plummeted from the shadows above, landing with a sickening finality before them.

Chhayavritti's lifeless form sprawled on the ground, his heart grotesquely ripped from his chest, dangling precariously from his still-warm body. The terror etched into Chhayavritti's face was unmistakable, his wide eyes forever locked in horror.

"Nahi..." Arishtak's heart sank, the breath caught in his throat. "CHHAYAVRITTI !"

The name escaped his lips in a hoarse whisper, raw anguish flooding through him. He fell to his knees, hands trembling as he reached for his fallen friend, the world around him fading into a blur of grief. Rage and sorrow intertwined, twisting within him like a serpent.

Arishtak's gaze turned fierce, the anguish morphing into wrath. "Pratishodh.... Hume pratishodh lena hoga, Mayantak ! Shigreh Krishneshwari ka annt karna padega.... Wahi Krishna aur uss Satyashree ki sabse badi parajay hogi !"

Yet Mayantak hesitated, his mind clouded with doubt. His heart raced, not with excitement, but with an unsettling doubt. The lifeless eyes of Chhayavritti haunted him, a stark reminder of the real dangers lurking beyond their ambitions. "Avesh mei nirnaye nahi lena chahiye.... Mere anusaar thodi pratiksha karna uchit hoga...." he stammered, his voice betraying a tremor of uncertainty.

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As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the Saurashtra kingdom, the royal family of Ujjain gathered at the grand entrance of the palace. The courtyard, adorned with vibrant flowers and fluttering banners, echoed with laughter and sorrow alike.

In the center of the gathering, Prithvik's newly wedded wife, Princess Pallavi cradled Krishneshwari, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. The child, with her twinkling eyes and cascading curls, radiated an indescribable charm that had captivated everyone during their stay. The air around her seemed to shimmer; every giggle echoed like laughter from the heavens.

"Punah awashya ana Krishneshwari." Pallavi whispered, her voice breaking.

The little princess, sensing her sorrow, leaned forward and placed a tiny kiss on Pallavi's cheek, as if to promise that their bond would remain unbroken. Around them, courtiers and family members stood, their hearts warmed by the enchanting aura of the little princess. Pallavi sighed, kissing Krishneshwari's forehead tenderly.

Then, with a heart full of love, she handed the princess back to Queen Aarvi, her hands lingering for a moment, reluctant to release the enchanting child. The queen wrapped her arms around Krishneshwari, offering a reassuring smile.

King Shekhar, Queen Sunaina, and Crown-prince Prithvik stood close, their eyes reflecting a mix of pride and melancholy. As the royal family of Ujjain made their way toward their ornate chariots, the atmosphere was charged with bittersweet anticipation. Each step echoed the promise of reunions, while the laughter of Krishneshwari lingered like a soft melody, weaving their hearts together across kingdoms.

To facilitate their departure, Dilip had summoned a majestic elephant from Avanti. The gentle giant was adorned with vibrant fabrics and a jeweled saddle. The noble beast had been summoned to navigate the throngs of Ujjain's citizens, who would likely be gathered in droves, eager to catch a glimpse of their cherished princess as they return. Only a few days back, the scene had turned chaotic, resembling a stampede as the townsfolk, spellbound by Krishneshwari's divine aura, sought to draw near.

With a gentle smile, King Dilip lifted Krishneshwari into his arms and ascended the royal seat atop the elephant. The animal shifted slightly, the vibrant blanket rippling like water. A giggle escaped Krishneshwari's lips, the sound pure and innocent, as she took in the view from her lofty perch. The gardens, the onlookers, and even the towering palace seemed to shrink before her.

"Prasthan !" Dilip gestured for the procession to begin. The elephant trumpeted softly, and the chariots along with carriages rolled forward, echoing the sentiments of farewell.

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A/N

*Drumrolls* Time for a timeskip 🌝🔥

Also abhi hum story ke jis point pe hai... I wonder should I write 'some time later' or 'some Jarasandh wars later' 😂😂