(A/N):

Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.

Guys I hope you put more comments and power stones... Which will encourage me...

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After spending some more time answering the children’s excited questions,

Devara finally rose from his place inside the literacy hall.

The students immediately stood respectfully.

Several still looked reluctant to let him leave, especially the younger children who had become completely absorbed in listening to him speak.

One little boy even looked ready to ask another question before the older students pulled him back with embarrassed laughter.

Kripi herself shook her head helplessly at the children’s excitement.

Before leaving, Devara once again bowed respectfully and touched her feet.

Kripi lightly placed her hand upon his head again with a fond smile.

"You speak well,"

She said softly.

Then after glancing toward the students, she added teasingly.

"You may steal my entire class at this rate."

The children burst into laughter immediately.

"-Hahaha!!!"

"-Hahaha!!!"

"-Hahaha!!!"

Devara himself chuckled before folding his hands respectfully toward her once more.

-Chuckle!

"Then I shall retreat before Guru Mata throws me out."

That only caused more laughter inside the classroom.

Soon afterwards, he stepped out from the literacy section and continued walking deeper through the vast Gurukul grounds.

The educational complex felt alive everywhere he looked.

Students moved between departments carrying tools and manuscripts.

Some practiced carving under strict supervision while others worked near the pottery kilns.

The scent of wet clay, cut wood, herbs, and cooking smoke drifted softly through the campus alongside the constant sounds of learning.

As Devara approached the agriculture division, the atmosphere changed again.

Unlike the structured classrooms or martial fields, this section felt deeply connected to the land itself.

Large cultivated plots stretched across the grounds divided into different farming methods and soil studies.

Water channels flowed carefully between sections demonstrating irrigation techniques.

Students worked barefoot in the mud while instructors supervised them directly rather than teaching from shaded seats.

Some children planted saplings carefully.

Others studied soil mixtures.

A few older students were learning how to maintain water balance between crop rows.

As Devara walked quietly past one section, a discussion nearby unexpectedly caught his attention.

An experienced farmer with sun-darkened skin and rough calloused hands stood knee-deep near a wet cultivation field while several students listened around him attentively.

The man held a small crab carefully in his hand.

"Many people think these creatures are pests,"

The farmer explained.

"But if you understand the land properly, you will know they are helpers too."

That immediately made Devara slow his steps.

Nearby, one student frowned in confusion.

"How can crabs help farming, Guruji? Don’t they damage the fields?"

The farmer smiled patiently.

"They can damage crops if their numbers grow too large without balance."

"But their burrowing loosens hard soil beneath wet fields."

He pointed toward the muddy ground.

"The tunnels they make allow water and air to move better through the earth."

Several students leaned closer curiously.

Then the farmer picked up a handful of soil before continuing.

"And earthworms..."

His face visibly brightened with genuine admiration now.

"These tiny beings are among the greatest workers in agriculture."

That statement immediately surprised some students.

Even Devara remained standing quietly nearby listening now.

The farmer slowly crumbled the soil between his fingers.

"They break down dead plants and organic waste into nutrients. They soften and enrich the soil. Their movement allows roots to breathe."

Then with a grin he added.

-Grin!

"A field rich with earthworms is usually a happy field."

The students laughed softly.

One younger child raised his hand excitedly.

"So worms are farmers too?"

That made the older farmer burst into loud laughter.

"Yes!"

"In their own way, they are."

Even Devara smiled faintly hearing that answer.

The farmer then walked toward one of the irrigation ponds where small fish moved beneath the water.

"And fish,"

He continued to explain.

"Fish help control insects and larvae that damage crops."

"They also create waste that enriches the water used for farming."

Then pointing toward the interconnected irrigation systems, he explained how water ecosystems and farming often supported one another naturally when maintained correctly.

The students listened with fascination.

Because unlike dry memorization—This was practical knowledge tied directly to life itself.

Meanwhile Devara remained quietly standing beneath the shade of a nearby tree listening to the lesson.

Truthfully, even he found it interesting.

In his previous life, many people viewed agriculture too simply.

Crops, harvest, profit.

But true farming was an entire living system where even the smallest creatures played roles within balance.

The experienced farmer continued explaining patiently, occasionally kneeling into the mud himself to show students directly how healthy soil differed from exhausted land.

No arrogance. No pretending.

Only genuine knowledge earned through years beneath the sun.

Watching the scene quietly, Devara felt another small sense of satisfaction rise within him.

Because this was exactly why he built the Gurukul this way.

Knowledge was not meant to remain trapped only in scriptures and palaces.

It existed in fields. In rivers. In workshops.

In ordinary hands shaped by years of experience.

And as the students continued listening eagerly to the old farmer explain how even crabs, worms, and fish helped sustain life itself—

Devara silently felt that perhaps this kingdom truly was beginning to grow its roots properly.

"...."

The old farmer crouched down slowly near the moist edge of the cultivation patch while the students gathered closer around him with curiosity shining in their eyes.

His rough hands moved skillfully through the dark wet soil before finally lifting a handful of earth carefully from the ground.

At first, some of the younger students leaned back slightly in discomfort seeing the wriggling earthworms moving between his fingers.

A few even made disgusted faces.

One child immediately whispered.

"Ewww..."

That instantly caused laughter among the others.

Even the farmer himself chuckled warmly.

"See?"

The farmer said with amusement.

"This is exactly why many people fail to understand farming properly."

He carefully stretched his palm outward for the students to see better.

The earthworms twisted slowly through the rich dark soil resting on his hand.

"These tiny creatures are among the greatest blessings a farmer can receive."

Several students immediately looked surprised hearing that.

One older student frowned curiously.

"But Guruji... they are just worms."

The farmer shook his head firmly.

"No. They are the guardians of fertile land."

That answer silenced the students again.

Even Devara remained quietly standing nearby beneath the shade listening carefully now.

The old farmer slowly lowered himself to sit near the field while motioning for the children to come closer.

"When soil becomes lifeless, hard, and exhausted ...crops weaken. Water stops flowing properly through the earth."

"Roots struggle to breathe."

He gently let some soil fall from his hand back onto the ground.

"But when earthworms thrive ...it means the land is healthy."

He explained patiently how the worms constantly moved through the soil creating tiny pathways beneath the earth.

Those pathways allowed air and water to travel deeper into the ground while also helping plant roots spread more easily.

Then he held up another earthworm carefully between two fingers.

"These little workers eat dead leaves, plant remains, and organic waste. And what they return to the soil ...becomes nourishment richer than many realize."

Several students looked genuinely fascinated now instead of disgusted.

One brave child slowly extended his hand.

"Can I hold one?"

The farmer grinned immediately.

-Grin!

"Of course."

Carefully, he placed one of the earthworms onto the boy’s palm.

The child stiffened at first as the cool damp creature slowly moved across his skin.

The surrounding students burst into laughter at his expression.

But soon curiosity replaced discomfort.

More hands began extending eagerly.

"Me too!"

"I want to hold one!"

"Guruji, give me one!"

Soon the farmer began placing small earthworms gently onto the students’ palms one by one while continuing his explanation.

"Remember this carefully. If you walk through farmland and find healthy earthworms in the soil..." then know the land still lives strongly."

His voice carried deep respect now.

"They are the hidden gems of agriculture. Not gold. Not jewels. These."

He pointed toward the wriggling creatures moving through the students’ hands.

Because without fertile land—No kingdom survived for long.

Even the younger children now observed the earthworms more carefully instead of recoiling from them.

One little girl smiled softly while watching one curl around her finger.

"It feels soft..."

The farmer laughed warmly.

"-Haha!!!"

"Yes."

"And they work harder for the fields than many humans do."

That caused another wave of laughter among the students.

Nearby, Devara folded his arms quietly while watching the scene unfold.

Truthfully, he admired this kind of teaching deeply.

The farmer was not merely forcing students to memorize information.

He was changing how they saw the world itself.

Teaching them that value did not always come wrapped in beauty or status.

Sometimes the most important things beneath a kingdom’s survival remained hidden quietly beneath the soil.

And as the children carefully held the earthworms with fascination rather than disgust now, Devara silently felt satisfied.

Because if the next generation of Trivenivrata learned to respect even the smallest contributors to life—Then perhaps they would grow into farmers, scholars, and citizens who understood balance far better than many kingdoms before them ever had.

After spending some more time observing the agriculture section, Devara quietly continued deeper through the vast Gurukul grounds.

The sounds around him shifted once more as he moved away from the farmlands.

The damp scent of soil and water slowly faded, replaced instead by the rhythmic sounds of chisels striking stone.

-Tak! Tak! Tak!

Wood shavings drifted through the air like dry flower petals while the scent of freshly carved timber spread throughout the workshop corridors.

Soon Devara arrived before one of the largest artistic training chambers within the Gurukul.

The sculpture and carving division.

The chamber itself looked extraordinary.

Large open halls filled with sunlight had been designed specifically for artisans to work comfortably.

Stone blocks of various sizes rested throughout the area while unfinished wooden sculptures lined the walls beside half-completed pillars and decorative carvings.

Some students worked carefully upon small practice statues.

Others focused on intricate patterns meant for temples and palace structures.

A few older apprentices were attempting full human forms under strict supervision.

Everywhere Devara looked, creativity mixed with discipline.

And at the center of the chamber stood the master instructor.

An older sculptor with broad shoulders and stone dust covering nearly every part of his clothes moved slowly between the students, correcting posture, grip, and carving angles with the sharp eyes of a veteran artisan.

Unlike warriors who trained the body for combat—This was another kind of battle entirely.

Patience against stone.

Vision against rough material.

The instructor stopped beside one nervous student whose statue’s face had become uneven after an incorrect strike.

The young boy looked devastated.

"I ruined it..."

He muttered softly.

The instructor however shook his head immediately.

"No."

He gently took the carving tool from the student’s hand before kneeling beside the unfinished stone figure.

"You only rushed."

Then carefully pointing toward the damaged section, he continued:

"Stone remembers impatience."

The surrounding students immediately became attentive hearing that line.

The instructor calmly demonstrated how the carving could still be corrected through smaller adjustments rather than abandoning the work entirely.

"A sculptor who panics after one mistake will never finish anything beautiful."

He lightly tapped the stone.

"Do not fight the material. Listen to it."

That sentence even caught Devara’s attention.

The instructor continued moving around the chamber afterward, occasionally correcting students personally.

One girl carving floral patterns into wood was pressing too deeply with her tool.

"Gentler,"

The instructor advised.

"You are carving a flower, not attacking an enemy soldier."

Nearby students laughed softly.

Another apprentice carving a lion statue had focused only on detail while ignoring structure.

The instructor folded his arms before the half-finished sculpture.

"A statue must stand proudly before it becomes beautiful. If the balance is weak, even the finest details become meaningless."

As Devara quietly walked further inside the chamber, his eyes moved across the students’ creations.

Some works were rough. Some awkward. Some surprisingly impressive.

Yet every unfinished sculpture carried effort within it.

That alone made the place feel alive.

Then the instructor finally noticed Devara’s presence standing near the rear section of the chamber.

Immediately, the older artisan straightened and folded his hands respectfully.

"My king."

The students froze for a moment before hurriedly bowing as well.

But Devara simply gestured calmly for them to continue working.

"I came to observe,"

He said with a faint smile.

The instructor visibly relaxed hearing that.

"You honor the workshop with your presence."

Then after glancing proudly toward the students, he added:

"They are improving steadily."

One student immediately became nervous after realizing the king might observe his unfinished work.

The boy awkwardly tried hiding a poorly carved wooden elephant behind himself, causing several nearby apprentices to laugh quietly.

Even Devara chuckled seeing it.

-Chuckle!

"Every master once carved badly,"

He said lightly.

The embarrassed student looked relieved hearing that.

The instructor nodded in agreement.

"A sculptor is not born through talent alone. He is carved slowly by patience."

That line lingered quietly in Devara’s thoughts.

Because it applied to far more than sculpture.

Kingdoms. People. Rulers.

Even destinies themselves.

All were shaped slowly over time through countless small strikes, corrections, mistakes, and persistence.

Meanwhile the students gradually returned to their work after the initial excitement settled.

The chamber once again filled with the rhythmic sounds of chisels, carving tools, scraping wood, and focused concentration.

And as sunlight poured across the unfinished statues standing throughout the workshop, Devara quietly felt proud seeing another part of Trivenivrata’s future taking shape not through warfare—

But through art.

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(Author note:)

I hope you guys give me your opinion and idea’s.

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Don’t forget to review guys...

Guys I have a new fic which named: Karuppan: King of Openings.