SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

Chapter 983: Mistake? Swapping Heads!

Dense, opaque fog coiled around the edges of the cliff as Kent stepped onto the third step of the Tower of Wisdom — the fabled Wisdom Steps built by the Ancient Celestials to test the deepest truths of the heart and soul.

As soon as his foot landed on the stone, the atmosphere shifted. The air turned still. The howling wind stopped. Even the sky, which moments ago had roared with lightning from the trials before, became eerily silent.

Suddenly, the thick fog parted like a curtain.

From within it emerged a beast unlike any Kent had seen before.

Its body shimmered like molten bronze. Four thick, elephantine legs anchored it to the ground, but its back curved like a lion, and two enormous horns, twisted like spiral towers, extended from its head. Its eyes—deep crimson pools—stared at Kent with neither hatred nor welcome. It stood tall and unmoving, as if carved from ancient stone.

Then it spoke. Its voice boomed across the clouded plains, echoing with ancient sorrow.

“You have arrived at the third step of wisdom, mortal. To proceed further on the path of gods, you must pass the Trial of Judgment. I shall present you with a tale — one of sorrow, sacrifice, and a mistake that echoes through eternity. Tell me, what should be done?”

Kent steadied his breath and nodded solemnly.

The beast’s eyes glowed, and the fog around them formed into visions—like a stage of living memory.

The Tale of Princess Suvarna

In an age long past, the Kingdom of Keshava was struck by a catastrophic drought. The rivers dried up, the skies remained barren of clouds, and crops withered before they could sprout. The royal astrologers and sages consulted every scroll and star, only to declare that a terrible curse had befallen the land — a curse that could only be lifted by a divine act of sacrifice.

In the royal palace lived Princess Suvarna, known for her golden eyes, a heart of unmatched compassion, and wisdom beyond her years. Her younger brother, Prince Viren, and her husband, Prince Devaj, were the two pillars of her world.

The sages prophesied that only a sacrifice of pure blood — royalty by birth, and with a soul free of greed — could awaken the Goddess of Rain, Jala-durga, who alone could bring the monsoons back to the land.

The kingdom prepared for war against despair. But instead of soldiers and swords, they bore a different offering: life itself.

One dawn, under the sacred banyan tree beside the temple of Jaladurga, Prince Viren and Prince Devaj walked hand in hand. Without hesitation or regret, they bowed before the goddess statue, whispered their prayers, and — in the ultimate offering — beheaded themselves with sacred blades forged by the divine rune.

Princess Suvarna arrived moments later, her screams piercing the clouds. Her heart collapsed seeing the two most beloved souls of her life lying headless before the altar, their blood watering the parched earth.

She fell to her knees and begged the goddess with all her might. Her voice cracked, her body trembled, and her soul shattered.

Moved by her devotion and the noble sacrifice, Goddess Jaladurga appeared, luminous and vast. With a voice that echoed through all realms, the goddess spoke:

“Daughter of tears, I am impressed by their sacrifice and will grant sufficient rains. You can also regain their lives… Restore their heads to their bodies… I will give back life to them..”

But the princess, blinded by sadness and grief, trembling with confusion, committed a terrible error.

In her hands, the heads were swapped.

She placed husband’s head on brother’s body… and brother’s head on husband.

The goddess, bound by her word, returned them to life. But horror followed.

The two men awoke — not as themselves, but as beings torn between memory and flesh. Devaj’s head on Viren’s body looked at Suvarna with the eyes of a lover, but his hands, instincts, and voice carried the youth and innocence of her brother. Viren’s head on Devaj’s body retained the face of her sibling, but the gaze and bearing of her beloved.

Confusion festered. The kingdom rejoiced that the rains had returned, but within the palace, chaos ruled.

Princess Suvarna’s heart fractured anew. She had saved them, yes, but who was her husband now? Who was her brother?

The court was divided. Priests and sages were called to interpret the mistake. The people whispered. The royal bloodline was tainted with a divine anomaly.

The fog cleared. The beast’s eyes locked with Kent’s.

“Now, scaled one… you stand in Suvarna’s place. You carry the wisdom of this tale. What should the princess do now?”

Kent’s mind swirled.

This wasn’t a trial of right or wrong. It was a test of clarity under the weight of sorrow, of decision amidst irreversible consequences.

He closed his eyes, let his heartbeat calm, and then spoke:

“The princess committed a mistake. But her sorrow is not the focus of this trial. The question is—what can one do after such a mistake?

She cannot reverse the swap, for the goddess warned her. Undoing divine resurrection is impossible.

Neither Devaj nor Viren are whole anymore. Both are hybrids of identity — torn between memory and muscle. But what defines a person? The mind? The body?

The princess must acknowledge both men for what they are now, not what they were.

She must abandon past labels and forge new identities for them — and for herself. If her love was only for her husband’s body or brother’s face, it was never whole to begin with.

A person is decided by his head. So, from now on, she must accept her brother’s body which is controlled by her own husband to make love.

That… is wisdom. To accept the consequence, honor the sacrifice, and release the bonds of the past.”

There was silence.

The beast stared at him for a long moment. Then its body began to glow with golden light. Its horns turned to mist, its form slowly vanishing into sparkles that danced around Kent.

“You have chosen… with clarity.”

A humming resonance spread through the air. The step beneath Kent lit up with runes—ancient ones that only those of great will and wisdom could tread upon. The fog parted entirely, revealing a stairway upward, carved into jade.

But just before the light vanished, the beast’s voice returned one last time:

“Remember, Kent… Not all mistakes are punishable. Some are simply part of the dance of fate. What defines a soul is not how it avoids error, but how it lives with it.”

Kent stood tall.

The burden of the tale lingered in his heart as he climbed the next-step… He successfully crossed the Wisdom-Steps!