Chapter 149: Chapter 147: Goddess Saved You... I Shall Guide You...

(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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The forest became quiet.

A strange quiet.

Because now that the goddess had departed and Karichathan had left, the reality of their situation finally settled upon the former tantra clans.

The clan leaders slowly looked around.

Then at one another.

Then back at one another again.

"...."

"...."

"...."

The sight was almost surreal.

Men who had once towered over others now barely reached each other’s waists.

Their robes dragged behind them.

Their long beards looked absurdly oversized.

Their staffs appeared larger than before.

One elder tried taking a step forward.

Immediately tripped over his own beard.

And fell face-first into the dirt.

Nobody laughed.

Not because it wasn’t funny.

But because everyone was too shocked.

The elder slowly stood up.

Covered in leaves. Covered in dirt.

Then looked at the others.

The others looked back.

The silence somehow became even more awkward.

One of the former clan leaders opened his mouth.

Closed it. Opened it again.

Then sighed.

-Sigh!

What exactly was one supposed to say after being personally judged by Goddess Mahakali and transformed into a dwarf?

Nobody knew.

For perhaps the first time in their lives, the leaders of the five clans had no answers.

No plans.

No ambitions.

No rituals.

Only consequences of their action.

Then suddenly—A familiar voice echoed through the forest.

"Hehehe..."

The dwarfs immediately jumped.

Several instinctively looked around.

The voice belonged to Karichathan.

Though the kuttichattan himself was nowhere to be seen.

The laughter echoed from every direction.

Then his voice followed.

"Ladies!"

The pregnant women who had been rescued immediately stopped.

They looked around nervously.

Karichathan’s cheerful voice continued.

"You can leave now."

The women exchanged confused glances.

The voice seemed to come from the forest itself.

"You don’t need to fear tonight."

The words carried a surprising warmth.

"Goddess Mahakali has already seen you."

"Goddess Mahakali has already saved you."

A few of the women immediately folded their hands toward the heavens.

Tears appeared in their eyes once more.

Karichathan continued with a pride in his voice.

"No beast."

"No spirit."

"No thief."

"No danger."

"Will come near you tonight."

The women listened carefully.

The forest seemed strangely peaceful.

Almost welcoming.

Then the kuttichattan added proudly,

"And if anything tries..."

The voice paused.

The women could almost imagine his grin.

"It will have a very bad night."

Several spirits hidden among the trees chuckled.

The women couldn’t help smiling.

Their fear slowly faded.

Then Karichathan’s voice became gentler.

"I’ll guide you home."

The women froze for a second.

One of them looked around.

"How?"

Immediately a laugh answered.

"Hehehe."

"Just follow my voice."

The women hesitated.

Then the voice came again.

From a particular direction.

"Over here."

One of the women cautiously took a step.

The voice moved slightly ahead.

"Good."

Another woman followed. Then another.

Soon all of them began walking.

The forest itself seemed to open paths before them.

Whenever they reached a fork, Karichathan’s voice guided them.

"This way."

"Not that way."

"Watch the roots."

"There’s a hole there."

The women obeyed.

And somehow, despite the darkness, none stumbled.

None lost their way.

As they walked, many realized something astonishing.

The voice knew exactly where they lived.

Not just the village.

The exact village. The exact road. The exact direction.

One woman eventually gathered enough courage to ask,

"How do you know where my house is?"

The forest became silent for a moment.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Then Karichathan laughed.

"Hehehe."

"I know lots of things."

That was the only answer she received.

Hours passed.

One by one.

The women reached familiar roads.

Familiar wells.

Familiar shrines.

Familiar houses.

Some cried upon seeing their homes.

Others fell to their knees in gratitude.

Families who had believed them lost forever rushed out in disbelief.

Children hugged mothers.

Husbands embraced wives.

Parents wept seeing their daughters return to their home.

And throughout it all, the voice continued guiding the next woman.

Then the next. Then the next.

Never once asking for thanks.

Never once appearing.

Only helping as if it was his job to guide them to safety.

Until eventually the final woman arrived safely at her village.

She turned toward the darkness.

Folded her hands. And whispered,

"Thank you."

For several moments there was no response.

Then from somewhere among the trees came a cheerful laugh.

"Hehehe."

"Tell the little one to grow up healthy."

The woman instinctively placed a hand upon her stomach.

Tears filled her eyes.

"...."

Before she could reply, the laughter faded.

The forest grew quiet. This time for real.

Karichathan was gone.

Far away, the cursed dwarf clans sat in the ruins of their ritual grounds.

The women had been saved.

The innocent had returned home.

The goddess had departed.

And the night that had begun with greed and sacrifice had ended with judgment and mercy.

As for the former clan leaders... They sat around the shattered clearing in silence.

Looking at one another.

Looking at their tiny bodies.

Looking at the glowing collars around their necks.

None knew what the future held.

But one thing had become painfully clear.

Their old lives had ended tonight.

And whatever came next would begin from the ashes of their mistakes.

The journey back to their settlements was one of the most miserable experiences the former tantra practitioners had ever endured.

Nobody spoke much.

What was there to say?

Their rituals had failed. Their ambitions had crumbled.

Their leaders had been humbled.

Their clans had been cursed.

And to make matters worse, they now had to walk through the forest in bodies that felt completely foreign to them.

Many stumbled because their legs were shorter.

Others kept tripping over their own robes.

One elder spent nearly half an hour trying to untangle his beard from a thorn bush.

Normally such a sight would have provoked laughter.

Tonight it only deepened everyone’s misery.

By the time they finally reached their settlements, exhaustion had settled into every bone of their bodies.

The moment they entered the camp, several practitioners immediately noticed the large clay pots filled with fresh drinking water.

Water collected earlier that day.

Cool.

Clean.

Pure.

For a moment, they simply stared at it.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Then it happened.

The thirst. It struck all of them at once.

Not ordinary thirst.

Not the kind felt after a long walk.

This felt different.

Deeper.

As if every drop of moisture inside their bodies had vanished.

Their throats became dry. Their tongues felt rough.

Their mouths burned.

The sensation grew stronger. And stronger. And stronger.

Until it became almost impossible to think about anything else.

One of the younger practitioners rushed toward the nearest pot.

Another followed. Then another. Then dozens.

The former clan leaders were no different.

Whatever dignity remained vanished instantly.

They grabbed the pots and began drinking greedily.

Water spilled down their beards.

Down their robes. Across the ground.

Yet none of them cared.

They drank. And drank. And drank.

Like men stranded in a desert.

Like people who hadn’t seen water in weeks.

Within minutes several large pots had been completely emptied.

Only then did they finally stop.

Heavy breathing filled the camp.

The practitioners looked at one another.

Relief appeared on several faces.

For about three heartbeats.

Then the realization struck.

The thirst remained.

The water had cooled their throats.

But the feeling itself was still there.

Still gnawing at them. Still whispering.

Still demanding more from them.

One practitioner immediately reached for another pot.

The elder grabbed his arm.

"Stop!"

The younger man froze.

The warning from Mahakali echoed through everyone’s minds.

’Control your greed. Or your greed shall destroy you.’

The practitioners slowly stepped away from the water.

Many looked genuinely frightened.

Because for the first time they understood the true cruelty of the curse.

It wasn’t pain. It wasn’t death.

It was temptation. Endless temptation.

A thirst that could never truly be satisfied.

One that they would need to control every single day of their lives.

The settlement remained silent for a long time.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Nobody slept well that night.

The following morning.

The first rays of sunlight broke through the trees.

Several practitioners were already awake.

Mostly because they had spent the entire night trying not to think about water.

Some sat quietly around small fires.

Others stared at the ground.

Many were still struggling to process everything that had happened.

Then a lookout suddenly shouted.

"Someone is coming!"

Immediately several heads turned.

The former clan leaders stepped outside their huts.

A familiar figure emerged from the forest.

The survivor.

The same man who had fled before the ritual reached its final stage.

The same man who had spent a week warning them.

The same man nobody had listened to.

For a brief moment, relief appeared on several faces.

Because unlike them... He was still normal.

Two arms.

Two legs.

Normal height.

No glowing collar.

No curse.

The elder let out a long sigh.

"...."

At least one person had escaped the consequences.

At least one person remained unchanged.

The survivor stopped a few feet away from the settlement.

He looked around. His eyes moved from one dwarf to another.

Then another. Then another.

The silence stretched.

The former clan leaders awkwardly looked back at him.

The situation was uncomfortable for everyone involved.

Finally the survivor spoke.

Or rather—He started laughing.

"Hehehehe..."

The settlement froze.

The former clan leaders immediately felt their expressions darken.

The survivor laughed harder.

His shoulders shook.

Tears formed in his eyes.

"Hehehehehe!"

Several dwarfs closed their eyes in frustration.

Not again.

Anyone but him. Anything but this.

The survivor pointed toward them.

Then doubled over laughing.

"I warned you!"

More laughter.

"Hehehehe!"

One dwarf covered his face.

Another groaned loudly.

The elder pinched the bridge of his nose.

The survivor continued.

"You called me crazy!"

Laughter.

"You called me mad!"

More laughter.

"You called me broken!"

The laughter became even louder.

Several practitioners looked ready to throw something at him.

The survivor finally wiped tears from his eyes.

Then pointed toward the entire settlement.

At the dwarfs.

At their oversized beards.

At their glowing collars.

At their tiny bodies.

And immediately burst into another fit of laughter.

The former clan leaders looked utterly defeated.

Not because he was wrong.

Because he was right.

Unfortunately...

The experience with Karichathan had clearly done something to the poor man’s mind.

The survivor wasn’t entirely insane.

But he definitely wasn’t entirely stable either.

Every time he remembered the events of that night, laughter became his first response.

A coping mechanism.

Or perhaps a curse of trauma.

Nobody knew.

What they did know was that whenever he started laughing, bad memories usually followed.

The elder sighed deeply.

Then looked toward the sky.

"Goddess Mahakali..."

He muttered.

"Could you not have left us one normal person?"

The survivor immediately pointed at him and started laughing again.

And for the first time since their curse, several dwarfs actually considered throwing him into a pond.

Not out of hatred.

Just to get five minutes of peace.

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(Author note:)

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Don’t forget to review guys...

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