I Become Karna With a Million Times Crit System In Mahabharata.



"My dear friend, King Druapd."

In the majestic chambers of Panchal's court, a poignant interlude in the grand saga was about to unfold, The threaded destiny by the tapestry of time, The great Niyati.

Drona stood forth in the middle of the Royal Court of Pamchal like an embodiment of both history's embrace and its erosion, his words an invocation of a shared past.

There was nostalgia seeing his old childhood friend, The one he used to see running and playing in mud right now adored in the royal attire with golds all over adding to his majesty.

"King Drupada," 

He declared once again, His voice resonating with the timbre of memory and desire that he came here with, The one he confident that his friend will surely fulfil. 

"I come before you to remind you of a promise of yours but I don't want the share of your vast kingdom, I need only humble supplication—a single cow. A vessel of nourishment for my youngling, a seeker of sustenance untasted, That's all this old friend of yours seek."

Drona spoke with his usual majesty, The one that every warrior of his calibre has, His intention was no way to disrespect his friend but court take it that way.

The court suddenly became silent spectators, holding their breath in anticipation as palpable as the air. No one dared to speak with their king like this since he took over the royal duties from a young age.

King Drupada, a figure of regal magnificence, sat on the throne made of gold with an air of authority that spoke of the weight of his crown. His presence demanded attention, a magnetic force that drew eyes and deference alike.

Tall and broad-shouldered, he held himself with the poise of a seasoned warrior. His physique, sculpted by years of martial pursuits, was a testament to his prowess on the battlefield. 

Drupada's eyes, like deep pools of obsidian, held the enigma of a man who had borne witness to both triumphs and tribulations. His features bore the marks of age, etched lines that told stories of battles fought and challenges overcome.

 A well-groomed beard framed his strong jaw, adding to the aura of authority that surrounded him. His brows, furrowed with the weight of kingly responsibilities, cast shadows over his piercing gaze.

Drupada's attire was a tapestry of extravagance, robes adorned with intricate designs that spoke of his royal heritage. Jewels glinted in the light, adding to the regal splendour he exuded. A sword hung at his side, a constant reminder of his warrior lineage and the battles he had waged.

In each moment there was an elegance, A fluidity that belied the strength in his form. Each gesture, deliberate and measured, conveyed the essence of a ruler who had mastered the art of both power and diplomacy.

In the heart of his court, King Drupada is like a figure of stature, both imposing and enigmatic. His physical presence, a reflection of his rule, added to the layers of complexity. 

"Drona," 

Drupada spoke, His voice echoed in the halls spanning the bridge spanning of ages and sentiments but the was sharp tone of his give away his real intentions.

"A bovine offering, you ask is not even a droplet from the ocean of my wealth. Yet, my friend, there exists an abyss which divides between thrones and pedestals. Allies of prominence are chosen with discernment."

Dronacharya's gaze faltered, suspended between the ache of slighted dignity and the echo of promises enshrined between them.

Drupada said to him so much that mere words could not as there were no words that can hurt him this deeply, A friend he always thought not consider him anything more then a better who come here for alms. 

Drona's eyes, which were once the mirrors of their shared laughter as he came here, Now reflected the tarnish of unfulfilled pledges and the humiliation.

"Drupada!! I do not stand here as a supplicant asking for alms, But as a seeker of bonds forged in the crucible of innocence, The kinship transcending the realms of status, The bond of friendship."

Drona replied, his voice a blend of wistfulness and resolve with a hint of hope, He still cherishes their bond. He still does not want to lose his friend over this petty thing, If Drupada also sees that then everything will be fine.

The court, a tableau of estrangement, bore witness as past connections cracked and fissured beneath the pressure of present disparities. 

They become divided, One taking the side of Drona saying the promise should be fulfilled, While others were saying one should expect alms from the king not gifts.

The both group have some logic in them but majority of the court were with the latter side as they as royalty think like that. A very small percentage of the group were with Drona, While rest of the court chose to be neutral.

But Drona ignored everyone. His plea towards Drupada resonated with the resonance of honour, His request not for alms but for the fulfilment of a covenant, A pact of agreement they cast in youth's unmarred mold.

"Drona, The vows woven in the loom of the naivety of adolescence worn beneath the march of time. The appellations that promise between us now were absent when our brotherhood was forged."

Drupada's voice is slightly softened, He felt the intention of Drona which made a chink in the armor of the regal veneer he adored.

But he is a king of a big kingdom like Panchal. If Drona came here as a seeker of alms he not only cows but granted him the land for his monastery and also the huge load of gold to get him through all his life.

He was ready to give all that to him but only if Drona came to him as seeker of alms, but he unfortunately came here as the seeker of gift, The promise he gave when he was a naive child not knowing the rules of the world.

Here friendship does not happen spontaneously like it will in adolescents, In real mature life there is always a motive behind the friendship, Often the motive being to gain something for their kingdom.

That's why in real life friendship can only happen between equal people. If someone is lower than you then that person is by default not useful to you hence not your friend anymore.

This is his ideology which was created after he took the throne. The poison of tricks and schemes of the court corrupted the mind of the little Drupada, Which even after growing up held the same thoughts.

"A promise stays the promise regardless of the age or the status of beings. That's the rule a man follows, Durpada, I don't ask anything more than a single cow, Don't take a sin of not fulfilling the promise that was made to the friend."

Drona still did not give up even when Drupada directly said what he wanted to speak of, But Drona tried his last ditch effort.

He still did not wanted to break off his relationship with Drupada, He still see him as a friend and as a friend did not want him to get into a sin.

There is a saying, A man rather lose his head than his words, That is true and held high up for any warrior, If the news escapes that Drupada does not follow through his words, He would not only lose the honour but also lose reputation.

"Drona, I didn't want to be harsh seeing you and I still share the same Guru and consider myself as an brothers but you gave me no choice.

Drona I will not gain any sin for breaking the promise with you as the promise given to you as friends but as it turns out only equal can be friends, So if we are not friends then the promise I gave to you is also invalid.

The offer I gave to you is still there, You can take cows and all you want as alms. It would be my honour to serve the sage like you."

Drupada finally could not help it and spoke the words he knew would hurt his old friend but he has to, Drona will not give up any other way other then telling him the truth.

But now he does not care much, Anyway he already thinks this way and now it's just out in the open, Drona might hurt for a while but after which he will also understand what he was talking about and get what he wants in alms.

Which is also not bad. After all, as a sage, It would not be strange to receive alms from the king right? That's the norm of society.

"Ha..Haha…Hahahahahah!!!!"

Drona was taken out by hearing the words of his old dear friend, The one he thought he can always turn his back to now saying that he never considered him his friend at all.

This actually hurt more than the words Drupada said before. It hit him in his heart and for the first time made him feel like small and tiny even when he has the power of gods.

So he lost it. He started laughing like a maniac, Holding his forehead with one hand and stomach with others, His laugh rebervating in the hall. He was laughing but the exposed open eyes peeking through his hand were telling the different story.

He was like a wild fierce wounded beast, The most terrifying state of being near him.

(A/N : Like always thank you for reading and have a good day 😁.)

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