"Ah, the revered queen of Dwarka, come to witness the destruction of her precious city,"

Shishupal taunted, his voice loud enough to carry over the crackling of the fire. "It seems you manage without your beloved Chaliya. How unfortunate he is not here to see this."

Devashree's eyes narrowed, her grip on her sword tightening, but her voice remained calm and controlled.

"Shishupal, stop this madness! Why bring destruction to innocent lives? What do you hope to gain from such cowardice?"

Shishupal sneered, stepping forward slightly.

"Cowardice? No, it is retribution. You humiliated me, rejecting my proposal in front of the courts. You chose Krishna, that cowherd, over a real king. My ego? No, it is justice. Today, I claim what should have been mine."

"You claim nothing but shame and dishonor," Devashree retorted sharply. "Attacking unarmed citizens and using forbidden magic to spread fire? You are no king, Shishupal. A king protects his people, he does not harm them for personal grievances."

The asur beside Shishupal growled, stepping forward, the air around him shimmering with heat.

"Enough talk! Let us destroy her Sishupal, and Dwarka will surrender."

Devashree stood her ground.

"Dwarka does not bow to tyrants or threats. We stand for dharma, and as long as I breathe, I will defend it."

"Look at you, standing so defiantly. Do you think you're some sort of goddess, Devashree? Even without your Krishna here to shield you?" Shishupal taunted, his voice laced with contempt.

"Where is he now, when his beloved city burns? Off playing the flute, or perhaps tangled in the arms of another, leaving you to fend for yourself.Gallivanting across the lands, attending feasts and festivals, while his city burns! What sort of king abandons his realm in its hour of need? A false one, a pretender to the throne!"

His laughter was harsh, echoing off the burning structures around them. The asur beside him joined in, their mockery a cruel symphony against the backdrop of disaster.

"Krishna is nothing more than a charlatan, a flute-playing shepherd boy masquerading as a god. And you, Devashree, are a fool for believing in him. Today, Dwarka will see the truth of his divinity - absent and impotent."

"Shishupal, your words reveal nothing but your own weakness and fear. Insulting Krishna will not provoke me into folly, nor will it gain you any honor or victory," Devashree replied coolly, her eyes steady on Shishupal.

"Look at you, Devashree, so proud and lofty. Did you really think you could play at being queen without consequence? You're out of your depth," Shishupal sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "A puppet dancing on the strings of that charlatan, Krishna. What are you without him? Just a lonely woman, playing at politics."

Devashree's expression remained impassive, her eyes never leaving Shishupal's, even as his insults grew more personal and offensive.

"A true king trusts his queen to handle the realm in his stead. And nor does a true queen falter at the likes of you, Shishupal."

Shishupal laughed harshly, his gaze scanning the devastation around them.

"You mean this? This is what happens when a kingdom is left in the hands of a woman who thinks too highly of herself. You're nothing, Devashree, without Krishna. And even he is nothing. His powers are a farce, and so is his love for you. When the city burns, he romances elsewhere.

His words were designed to wound, to incite rage or despair, but Devashree stood unyielding, her posture regal, her voice steady as she responded.

"Krishna's absence is a testament to his trust in me, and in the strength of Dwarka's people. We do not need him to be present to feel his strength, nor do we falter in the face of petty tyrants and their baseless taunts."

Shishupal's face reddened with anger at her composed retort.

"Petty? I'll show you petty!" he roared, gesturing to his forces. "I'll reduce this city to rubble and take everything Krishna holds dear. Let's see how he rules over a kingdom of ashes!"

The soldiers around them tensed, awaiting her command, ready to defend their queen and their city against the onslaught. But Devashree raised a hand, signaling them to hold. She needed to handle Shishupal herself, to end this without further bloodshed, if possible.

"Ah, Rajkumari, still playing the dutiful queen? Tell me, how does it feel to be left alone, guarding the ashes of your realm?" Shishupal taunted, his voice thick with malice.

"Is this what Krishna leaves you for? To play savior while he dallies with gopis, leaving you desperate and wanting?"

He chuckled darkly, stepping closer, his presence oppressive.

"Perhaps he grows tired of you, eh? Maybe he seeks more... willing company, those who could offer him the pleasures you so naively guard. What is a queen without her king? Merely a woman, lost and lovelorn."

Devashree's gaze hardened, but Shishupal pressed on, enjoying the provocation.

The guards flanking felt each insult as a personal affront. They listened, their hands tightening around the hilts of their swords, muscles tensing and jaws clenching under the weight of their rising fury. The atmosphere was thick with the promise of violence, as the soldiers awaited just one word from their queen to spring into action.

One particularly young guard, his eyes blazing with a fierce loyalty and a protective fervor for his queen, couldn't hold back his rage. With a sharp hiss of metal against leather, he unsheathed his sword, the blade catching the flickering light of the nearby fires, casting a menacing gleam. Others followed suit, their movements synchronized and deliberate, a silent but formidable show of force.

"Or perhaps it's you, dear queen, who seeks comfort elsewhere? With Krishna gone so often, who warms your bed at night? A regent should have her consolations, after all."

A palpable wave of anger surged through the ranks. The atmosphere became charged, a storm of righteous indignation brewing among the warriors. These were not just protectors of the city's walls but of its honor as well.

"Watch your tongue, usurper!" A soldier bellowed, his voice echoing across the smoldering grounds. "You speak of our queen with such disrespect, you invite death!"

"We serve our queen and king with pride, your words are as foul as the smoke that rises from the fires you've set. We do not tolerate such slander against the crown!"

"Enough," Devashree finally said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Her calm was not just a mask, but a fortress, holding back the waves of anger threatening to break free.

She raised her hand slightly, signaling the guards to hold their positions but stay their attack.

As Shishupal prepared to escalate the confrontation, Devashree turned slightly, her posture still composed as she addressed her guards without looking away from the enemy.

"Prepare, but do not engage unless absolutely necessary. We will not initiate violence, but we will end it if forced."

Shishupal laughed. He laughed maniacally cluthing his stomach in cruel laughter.

"Just look at you! Pretending to be so high and mightly.Does the thought not itch in your mind, Devashree? While you stand here, commanding ashes, your Krishna, your lord, cavorts under moonlit skies, whispering sweet nothings to someone else's ear, sharing the warmth you so desperately crave?"

Shishupal's face contorted with a grotesque grin.

"Tell me, does it not burn you more than these flames to know your Krishna is nothing but a coward?" Shishupal sneered, his eyes gleaming cruelly.

"How does it feel to be nothing more than a neglected ornament in his collection of pleasures? Does he think of you, as he frolics with his gopis, or are you just a forgotten promise.He dares not face me himself, sending instead his queen to do his bidding. What kind of king hides behind the skirts of his wife? A king or a-"

"Enough!" Devashree's voice cut through the tumult, sharp and commanding.

Devashree felt a fierce wave of rage surge within her, so potent that it momentarily clouded her judgment. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and for a fleeting second, she considered commanding her troops to silence Shishupal once and for all.

Around her, the soldiers of Narayani Sena felt their queen's turmoil and reacted instinctively. Their grips on their weapons tightened, and a low, angry murmur rose from their ranks. They were ready to leap into action at her slightest nod, to defend the honor of their queen and their absent king against this vile intruder.

But commanding the Narayani Sena would lead to inevitable bloodshed-a path she was prepared to take, but not at the cost of destiny's design.

Shishupal's fate was not hers to seal, not with her hand nor her command, for it was written to be by Krishna's.

The air around her vibrated with the heat of the fire and the tension of awaited commands.

Her warriors, loyal and fierce, stood ready, their eyes on their queen, awaiting a signal to charge into battle.

But Devashree turned away from the confrontation and towards the ocean, her silhouette a stark contrast against the backdrop of the fiery destruction.

Devashree turned her gaze to the ocean, her eyes reflecting the fiery sky. With a graceful step, she extended her foot, touching the water's edge.

The water around her foot glowed softly, responding to the lineage of the one who had called it. After all, water was eternal and it was the same water that had seen her grow in its depths millions of years ago.

How could then the Samudra not respond to the call of Samudratanaya?

As her toe met the cool water, the water surged powerfully. Starting as mere ripples, they quickly swelled into towering waves. The ocean's vast, unyielding energy was now at her command, a testament to her lineage and her connection to the elemental forces of her kingdom.

The waves rose like the walls of a fortress, shielding and protecting Dwarka from the fiery onslaught. The spectators, awestruck and fearful, watched as these giant walls of water advanced toward the city, their power evident and their intention clear.

The soldiers and citizens who had followed her or watched from afar stood in awe as the waves surged forward. These were not chaotic, destructive waves, but ones that moved with purpose and control, orchestrated by Devashree's command. They rushed towards the city, not to flood or destroy, but to quench and save.

As the massive waves reached the flames, they broke with a thunderous roar, sending up clouds of steam.

The fire hissed and fought against the onslaught of water, but it was a losing battle. Street by street, district by district, the flames were doused, smothered under the relentless force of the ocean.

The asur looked on in disbelief. His confidence, fed by the chaos of the fire was drained away as the sea claimed victory. His eyes were filled with uncertainty, and the realization of his defeat was sinking in.

Shishupal was visibly rattled.

He turned to the asur, his voice tinged with urgency. "What Maya(sorcery) is this? How does she command the ocean itself?" he demanded.

The asur growled in response, his deep voice filled with frustration. "It's no sorcery I know. This is ancient, primal magic-beyond our reach and reckoning. She wields the power of the ocean's depths, a force we underestimated."

Shishupal clenched his fists, his gaze returning to the city, where the waters were now extinguishing the fires his forces had set.

"We cannot fight this, not with the weapons at our disposal. This queen, she harnesses the might of the very sea!" he spat out, his plan unraveling before his eyes.

"Then what do we do?" the asur hissed, stepping closer to Shishupal. "We are not prepared for magic of this magnitude. Our men cannot fight a foe that turns the sea itself into a weapon."

Shishupal looked back at the dwindling flames, the destruction they had wrought now being methodically erased by the relentless waves. His expression was one of pure hatred. "We retreat for now," he decided through gritted teeth.

"Retreat?" the asur balked, his pride stung. "And leave the field to her? This will be seen as cowardice!"

"Call it what you will," Shishupal snapped back, his eyes cold and calculating. "I would rather retreat and fight another day than perish foolishly against a power we cannot match. We will find a way to break her, to strip her off. But not today."

With a final, frustrated look at the calming waters, Shishupal signaled the asuri army and forces, to withdraw. The asur, though seething with rage, followed suit, knowing that to stay would mean certain defeat.

But it was too late.

What did they think? That they can walk into a lioness's den, right into her jaws and walk away unscathed?

No.

The ocean waters began to churn violently. The sea transformed, its surface breaking into sharp, jagged spikes of water, each shard crystallizing momentarily before crashing down upon the asuri army.

The screams of the asur and their allies filled the air as they were impaled by the water spikes.The sight was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, a testament to the raw power that the guardian of Dwarka could wield.

Shishupal felt a surge of panic rise within him. He had underestimated the queen and the mystical forces at her command. Now, alone and vulnerable, he turned to flee, his heart pounding with the fear of facing a similar fate.

As he made a desperate dash for safety, the ocean gave rise to one final, monumental wave. Towering and majestic, it soared above the landscape, casting a vast shadow over Shishupal.

With a deafening roar that echoed like thunder across the now silent city, the wave crashed down upon him, sweeping him off his feet with irresistible force.

Shishupal was tossed like a mere pebble in the overwhelming current.

The wave, filled with the fury and might of the ocean, carried him far from the city's boundaries, eventually hurling him into a swampy marshland outside Dwarka. The mud closed around him, cold and suffocating, trapping him as effectively as any dungeon.

Lying in the muck, drenched and defeated,the water receded, leaving him a muddied, wretched figure sprawled in the swamp as the echoes of Devashree's earlier words haunted him.

"Dwarka does not bow to tyrants or threats."

Back in Dwarka, as the last of the waves receded and the citizens began to emerge from their shelters, news of the invader's fate spread quickly.

As the waves calmed at Devashree's command, the soldiers of the Narayani Sena watched in awe, their earlier readiness for battle shifting to reverence for the elemental display of power.

Their gazes were fixed on their queen, whose command over the sea seemed as natural as her command over their loyalty.

"Did you see that?" one young soldier whispered to another, his voice a mixture of wonder and disbelief. "The water... it just listened to her."

His comrade nodded solemnly. "I've seen many things," he murmured, "but never anything like this. She doesn't just lead us; she commands the very forces of nature."

"It's like the legends come to life, isn't it? The tales we grew up on-about gods and heroes-they're real, and they're here. How can we falter when led by such power?"

"Yes," added another, " It makes me proud... proud to serve, proud to protect this kingdom."

As the ocean calmed and the last tendrils of smoke dissipated into the evening sky, the citizens of Dwarka, who had taken refuge on the back island, began their journey back to the city.

The boats were laden with men, women, and children, their faces etched with a mixture of relief and apprehension about the state of their homes and livelihoods.

"Look, the temple still stands!" one woman exclaimed, her voice breaking through the murmur as she pointed towards the skyline where the spires of their place of worship were untouched by the flames.

Children clung to the hands of their parents, their eyes wide with both excitement and fear, but as they stepped onto solid ground, the familiar feel of their homeland seemed to ease their worries.

Elders whispered prayers of thanks and young men discussed in groups about the rebuilding efforts that would soon commence.

"Let us rebuild not just our homes, but our hearts and our bonds with each other." Vasudev began."We stand on the soil of a land that was once crafted by the divine architect, Vishwakarma. He built a golden city that was the envy of the world. But now, it is our turn to build. Not just to restore what was lost, but to forge something new."

His voice grew stronger, filled with passion and conviction. "This time, it is not Vishwakarma, but you, the people of Dwarka, who will rebuild this great city. It will be your hands that lay the stones, and your sweat that mixes with the mortar. We will rebuild our homes with our own hands."

"We will see our city rise from the ashes, more beautiful and stronger than ever before. It will be a symbol of our love for Dwarka and for each other. Let the world know that when the people of Dwarka stand together, nothing can break their spirit."

Around him, nods and murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd, and soon, those murmurs turned into determined shouts of assent.

Subhadra, alongside Revati, took charge of rallying the women and children. "We can help by gathering supplies and preparing meals for the workers," Subhadra suggested enthusiastically. Her energy was infectious, and soon, many followed her lead, setting up communal kitchens and supply stations around the reconstruction sites.

Next day, as the sun traveled across the sky, the sounds of construction filled the air-hammers striking nails, saws cutting through wood, and the steady hefting of stones. Laughter and chatter also permeated the atmosphere, a sound as vital to the city's reconstruction as the physical labor.

In the evening, Devashree walked through the city, her presence a comforting sight to the weary workers. "Your efforts today have brought us one step closer to our home," she said, her voice gentle yet filled with pride. "Dwarkadhish will return to a city reborn, thanks to each of you."

Under the stars, the people of Dwarka gathered to share meals and stories.Here, children played in the growing shadows while their parents recounted the day's progress and planned for the next.

The city, like a phoenix, was rising from its ashes, its people bound together by shared loss, communal effort, and the unwavering hope for a brighter, steadfast future.

As Krishna and Balram hurried back to Dwarka, their hearts were heavy with concern. The news of the fire and subsequent destruction had reached them swiftly, cutting their trip short. They rode without rest, pushing their mounts to the limit, each mile bringing them closer to the city they both cherished and feared for.

Upon their arrival, what they saw was a mixture of devastation and renewal.

The signs of the fire were still evident, scorched earth and the remains of buildings gave a grim reminder of the catastrophe. Yet, amidst this, there was also the sound of hammers and saws, the bustling activity of rebuilding that filled the air with a dust-laden hope.

Krishna dismounted quickly, his eyes scanning the busy reconstruction site for one person in particular.

Devashree, standing amidst the rubble and reconstruction was covered in soot and dust. Her face bore signs of fatigue, but her eyes sparkled with an indomitable spirit that reassured him instantly. She was directing a group of workers, her gestures firm and her voice clear despite the chaos around.

As Krishna approached, his heart both swelled with pride and constricted with concern. She was the living embodiment of the resilience and strength of Dwarka, yet he couldn't help but worry for her well-being.

"Shree!" Krishna called out, his voice filled with a mix of relief and distress.

She turned at the sound of his voice, her tired eyes lighting up with a mix of surprise and relief.

A genuine smile, rare and weary, spread across her face as she saw him. Dropping the tools she had been holding, she walked towards him, her steps quickening.

"Krishn!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of joy and exhaustion.

They met halfway, and without hesitation, Krishna pulled her into his arms, embracing her tightly. He pulled back slightly to look at her, his eyes scanning her face, taking in the signs of hard work and the toll it had taken.

"You've been in the thick of it, haven't you?" Krishna murmured, his thumb gently wiping away a streak of soot from her cheek.

Devashree nodded, leaning back into his chest. "I had to be. The city needed all hands, and I couldn't just watch from the sidelines."

"You returned sooner than expected," she further remarked, her voice tinged with both exhaustion and relief.

"I had to," Krishna responded, taking her hands in his. "I could not stay away, knowing Dwarka and you were in peril."

Krishna smiled, his gaze still fixed on Devashree. " But now it's my turn to take some of this burden off you," he said, his voice low and firm.

Together, they turned to look over the bustling site-workers lifting beams, women carrying water, children helping by gathering small stones. It was a sight of devastation and construction, of endings and new beginnings.

But Balram's anger seethed uncontrollably. His fists clenched at his sides, he paced back and forth, cursing under his breath about the missed opportunity to confront Shishupal directly.

"Kanha, I should have been here! I would have stopped him before he could even think to flee!" Balram bellowed, his voice echoing through the partially reconstructed streets of Dwarka.

Krishna placed a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder, guiding him to pause and take in the scene around them-families working together, children playing near the building sites, and the overall sense of community that had grown stronger in the face of adversity.

"Dau, focus on what's before us," Krishna gently advised. "Shishupal has fled, but what remains are our people and our city. We must ensure their safety and the restoration of Dwarka."

Just then, Revati approached, her presence having a calming effect on Balram. She looked up at him with eyes full of understanding and concern.

Balram's expression softened immediately as he pulled her into a gentle embrace, one hand protectively resting on her belly, where their unborn child grew.

"Revati, are you alright? Were you safe during the attack?" Balram's voice was thick with worry, his rage subsiding into a quiet anxiety for his wife and unborn child.

"I'm fine, Arya. I was safe, thanks to the quick actions of everyone here," Revati reassured him, her hand covering his on her stomach. "We were all worried about you, rushing back to face the danger."

Krishna, observing the tender moment, offered a warm smile to lift the spirits further.

"See, dau, the young prince will enter a world built not just from stones and mortar, but from the love and unity of his people. A magnificent home that his father and mother helped build for him."

His words drew a thoughtful, albeit still slightly tense, nod from Balram. The idea of contributing to the safety and beauty of their city for the sake of his future child brought a new resolve to his demeanor.

"You're right, Kanha. We will build him a home worthy of a prince, a place of strength and beauty," Balram said, his voice now filled with a renewed sense of purpose. He looked down at Revati, his eyes promising that their son would know a home of peace and prosperity.

The family then turned back to the task at hand, each taking a part in directing the construction efforts, uplifting the workers with their presence and participation.

Balram's earlier fury transformed into a vigorous dedication to the rebuilding process, his every action now driven by the vision of a safe and splendid Dwarka for his family and all its citizens.

As they worked, Krishna and Balram discussed plans for the city's defenses, ensuring that no future threat could bring such chaos to their doorstep again.

With each brick laid and every street rebuilt, the city of Dwarka slowly but surely rose from the ashes.

************

A/N

Alright folks!! So Shishupal tried to insult Krishna but ended up at a mud spa instead? Let's just say, in Dwarka, even the villains get beauty treatments!"

And let's give Dwarka a hand (or maybe a hammer)! Vote now to help us decide whether Krishna should learn carpentry or stick to playing the flute. After all, even gods need a backup plan! 🛠️🎶

#RebuildDwarka

#VoteForKrishna'sDIYSkills"

On a serious note:
Shishupal had burned Dwarka when he was away at Pragjyotisha.
Honestly how dumb must be to try to burn something that is surrounded by water all around! And not just dumb but also shameless as he still shows his face and insults Krishna in the future!

Anyway we will deal with him in the future. Let's focus on the chapter. How was it?✨✨

Also if you enjoyed it do consider voting because it helps other readers to discover this story.❤️✨