Klesha
During the brief flight to Sravasti, capital of the Kosala Kingdom, the Sage thought about the people of Kosala.
He desperately hoped they would be happier than anyone alive — and thoroughly wicked.
He prayed they would be shameless villains who lived in luxury, who cackled with delight at every benefit they reaped even as they trampled others underfoot.
If that were so, he could slaughter them all without a moment's hesitation.
"Aaaaaaagh!!"
"You run. I'll buy us time."
"Mother!!"
But the scene that greeted him was nothing like what the Sage had wished for.
The people of Kosala were being plundered by soldiers of unknown origin.
How could this be happening?
Even as the thought crossed his mind, watching those people robbed, raped, and killed, the Sage found himself thinking of his own subjects. No matter how many times he denied it, no matter how many times he repeated the denial inwardly, the vivid massacre he had witnessed with his Eye kept overlapping with the horror before him.
"Huh?"
"Wh-what is that?"
"It's a god! A god has descended once more into the world of men to save us!"
It was almost a reflex. The Sage released his divinity, and every person present froze, their gazes seized and held by him.
"......"
The Sage said nothing. He simply stared in silence at those who were plundering and harming the people.
The invaders broke out in cold sweat, standing frozen in uncertainty — until one of them turned and fled, and the rest scrambled after him in a panicked rush.
"Ohh..."
"O God..."
"Are you the great Vishnu? Or the righteous Shiva?"
The people of Kosala fell to their knees before the Sage and bowed low. They seemed to regard him as a guardian deity who had come to deliver their wretched selves.
"...What makes you think I came here to help you?"
At the Sage's question, the people of Kosala wore puzzled expressions. They could not immediately grasp the meaning of his words.
And there, the Sage did not tell them what he had endured, nor that he had come to inflict terrible suffering upon them. More precisely — he did not want to.
"......"
The Sage turned his back and left. The people of Kosala did not rise from their knees until he had vanished from sight.
"...What have I done?"
Having retreated into a nearby mountain, the Sage sank down onto a boulder with a foolish look on his face. Even he could not understand the action he had just taken.
The flames of rage and hatred still burned within him — but unlike before, another emotion had taken root as well. At first it was small and faint, but with each passing moment it grew larger.
It was hesitation.
What are you wavering for, at this point?
He felt like an idiot for even deliberating. He needed to destroy the Kosala Kingdom as quickly as possible and massacre every last person living there — and yet, for some reason, his legs would not move.
Why? Why, damn it?
How many times had he asked himself that question?
"What are you doing here, mister?"
A strange young girl spoke to him then. She must have grown curious about the man sitting there blankly, doing nothing at all.
Only then did the Sage realize that three full days had already passed. The Vaishnavastra seemed to have distorted his sense of time.
"...Nothing."
"Is that red paint under your eyes a tattoo?"
The Sage did not answer, turning his gaze away from the girl. She had probably come out from Sravasti to play beyond the city walls. He had no desire to converse with the children of his enemies.
The girl looked at him with puzzlement, then eventually left. At first he thought she had simply lost interest — but before long she returned, carrying a single flower she had somehow found and picked.
"Here."
"?"
"I'm giving it to you because you're handsome."
Then I'll give it to you because you're handsome.
For an instant, a scene from the past flashed through his mind. Once before, a girl had given him a flower in much the same way.
No. She's a completely different child. It's pure coincidence!
The Sage screamed inwardly. He knew full well she was an entirely different person — and yet he was already seeing another girl's face overlaid upon hers.
Stop! Stop it. Don't do something so pointless.
"Why... are you giving this to me?"
His body and mind were out of sync. His mouth refused the command its master had given.
"Just because. You looked sad."
"......"
"When I'm sad, looking at flowers makes me feel better."
The Kosalan girl finished speaking, then flushed red with embarrassment and ran off. The Sage stared blankly at her retreating figure.
"...No."
He clenched his fist, crushing the flower she had given him.
"You think I'd give up over something like this? Over a single flower?"
Who was he speaking to?
Frowning, the Sage slipped into Sravasti in secret. With his divinity concealed and his presence suppressed, people passed right beside him without ever registering he was there.
"Still, we managed to get through it this time."
"So what if we did? Another country will invade, or bandits will come down on us again."
"This is all because of that bastard Virudhaka."
The Sage wandered for a long while, surveying the state of the Kosala Kingdom. The streets held nothing but the elderly, the weak, and women. Their lives were wretched, and for a nation of such reputed power, they looked far more destitute than even the people of his own kingdom.
Examining them with his Eye, he saw the cause: Virudhaka had conscripted troops so aggressively and in such a short span that it had strained the kingdom beyond reason. Even for Kosala, fielding an army of a hundred thousand was bound to inflict catastrophic losses. As a result, those among the populace who could manage a proper meal were few enough to count on one hand. Not a single one of them failed to curse Virudhaka's name.
It was an age of barbarism. Sensing that Kosala was no longer what it once had been, neighboring nations and bandits had begun invading and plundering Sravasti.
No — that's because you failed. If Virudhaka's war of conquest had succeeded, you would have been celebrating with festivals.
Right. How they lived was none of his concern. With that thought, the Sage made his way toward the palace where the royal family resided.
"How short are we on food?"
"Well... even what we have for ourselves is barely scraping by."
"Spare me the nonsense and open the granaries. The foundation of a nation is its people. Even if I myself starve to death, feeding them is my duty."
Surprisingly, the royals and nobles did not look particularly well-fed either. No — they were scarcely different from the common folk of the city. In particular, Crown Prince Gita of Kosala, though his appearance was far from healthy, was wholly absorbed in managing state affairs in the absent king's place. It was clear he was not acting out of some ulterior motive, but out of a genuine concern for the welfare of the nation and its people.
Don't make me laugh!! At your core you're no different from that vermin of a father!!
No. The Sage was wrong.
Examining him with his Eye, Crown Prince Gita was a human being bizarrely unlike his father. Before Virudhaka had marched to war, the prince had appeared before him thoroughly drunk, criticized him to his face, and tried to stop the war — only to be beaten nearly to death. More precisely, it would be accurate to say he had been lucky to survive. Days later, upon regaining consciousness, he had even held a memorial rite for the people of the foreign kingdom who had died so tragically.
Don't play the hypocrite. In the end, you stopped nothing. Don't you dare act pitiful and pretend to be good!
He was right there. A mere flick of a finger and he could kill him.
And yet...
Why did the image of his cousin keep surfacing? The cousin who, in place of his own selfish self, had diligently and responsibly attended to state affairs — that face kept overlapping with Crown Prince Gita's.
No!! I can do this. I can kill him!!!
With a thunderous crash, the Sage shot straight up through the palace roof into the sky. At the sudden boom and the roof caving open, Gita and the ministers were thoroughly startled.
"I'll kill every last one of you, you Kosalan bastards!!"
The Sage rose high into the heavens and turned his back to the sun. The light behind him formed a halo, making him look every bit a god. What appeared next was a colossal hand of light — a hand vast enough to cover the entirety of Sravasti.
"Good heavens! What is that?"
"Is that... a hand?"
"W-wait? Is that falling toward us right now?"
As it descended upon the city, the people of Kosala could not fully comprehend the situation — but they understood well enough that it was extraordinarily dangerous. Faced with a disaster beyond all comprehension, the Kosalans could only thrash about in panic. People fleeing, people trembling in terror, people praying, families clinging to one another with eyes squeezed shut — and...
"Mother!"
Even the girl who had given him a flower that morning. Watching her tremble in fear, weeping in her mother's arms, the Sage clenched his teeth.
Even if you're sad, even if it's unfair, even if it hurts — it doesn't matter. My people suffered the same, no, far worse. Consider a clean death a mercy!!!!
But that was as far as it went.
The hand forged from the Sage's power stopped just above the city. And then, at its master's will, it vanished like a mirage.
The Sage's roar shook the world. Hearing that sound, every person in Kosala lost consciousness. Even the royals, including Crown Prince Gita, were no exception.
Clutching his face in agony, the Sage flew off somewhere into the distance.