The shattered remnants of the wall groaned under the weight of countless dead soldiers pouring through, their grotesque forms stumbling over the debris in a nightmarish flood.

They surged into the battlefield like a tidal wave of rotting flesh, a ghastly procession that defied the very laws of life and death.

Each step they took was a reminder of the horror that awaited, their hollow eyes and gaping wounds creating a macabre spectacle of decay.

Bheem led this horrific charge, his presence a terrifying contrast to the abominations following him.

His massive, muscular form cut through the throng of the dead with relentless power. Every step he took sent tremors through the ground, his anger and protectiveness fueling an unstoppable force.

Ayushman's deranged laughter echoed across the battlefield as he cleaved through another Kuruvanshi soldier with a brutal, merciless strike.

The man's lifeless body fell, a grim testament to Ayushman's unrestrained cruelty. His eyes, filled with twisted amusement, met Bheem's across the chaotic expanse.

The two figures were locked in a silent battle of wills, a clash of primal fury and dark intent.

"How many will you protect?" Ayushman's voice was a mocking roar, filled with dark satisfaction.

He gestured expansively towards the army of dead soldiers that continued to flood the battlefield, their grotesque forms advancing with mindless, destructive purpose.

The dead soldiers were a grotesque parade of decay.

Their flesh hung in strips from their skeletal frames, revealing the putrid, rotting meat beneath.

Their movements were accompanied by a sickening squelch of decomposing flesh, each step a testament to the horrors they had endured.

They smashed through walls with mindless brutality, crushing anything in their path, their very existence a manifestation of death's relentless hunger.

Bheem, Nakul, Duryodhan, and the Kuruvanshis were locked in a frenzied dance of violence, their movements a chaotic symphony of blood and gore.

"You sure took your sweet damn time to get here!" Duryodhan roared, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of battle. He swung his sword in a wide arc, cleaving through the neck of a decaying soldier as it tried to lunge at him.

"Stop whining like a kid. Did you miss me too much?" Bheem teased, his voice a booming growl as he crushed a dead man's skull with his massive fist, sending bone fragments and grey matter flying. His rugged face was set in a smirk, eyes sparkling with a mixture of rage and amusement.

"You're never on time," Nakul snapped furiously, his eyes blazing as he kicked another soldier's head clean off its shoulders. The head rolled across the ground, its vacant eyes staring blankly as it came to a stop.

"And you're the one to complain? The one who was almost too late?!" Yuyutsu retorted, twisting the arm of a dead soldier with a sickening crunch, tearing it from its socket. He threw the dismembered limb aside, barely pausing to catch his breath.

"Fight, dumbasses, fight!" Dhritarashtra barked, his voice sharp with frustration as he intercepted a blow from a particularly ferocious undead. He lifted two soldiers with ease, slamming them down onto the ground, their bones breaking with a splintering crack. "Because, hey, what's the most that can happen? Only we can die a little. No biggie!"

A figure landed heavily next to Dhritarashtra, jumping over the wall with a force that shook the ground. The man intercepted a blow aimed at Dhritarashtra's back, his entrance marked by a dramatic clash of steel against rotting flesh.

"I swear, I am so done with this grown-ass toddlers' bickering. I almost wish to slam their heads together." Shakuni boomed.

Bhism was a whirlwind of fury.

His sword flashed with deadly precision as he gutted another soldier, the disemboweled remains splattering onto the ground and mingling with the expanding pool of blood and muck. "What the hell is wrong with you, Gandhar Raj?! Why the hell are you all entering one after another? And where the hell are the others? I swear I'm gonna break their damn bones!"

"Our entries are not our fault. Blame Vasudev!" Shakuni shot back, his voice tinged with irritation as he parried with the dead soldiers, his movements sharp and practiced.

"You always have a damn excuse ready!" Dhritarashtra snapped, swinging his sword with brutal efficiency.

"You surely have a charming way to thank a person." Gandhar Raj's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Stop with your damn witty comments." Dhritrashtr slayed another, the undead fell before him, their decaying flesh a gruesome sight. "And where is Vasudev!"

"With Yudhisthir!" Shakuni deadpanned, his face a mask of exasperation, he flayed another dead.

Bhism slammed another soldier to the ground, his foot pressing down on its chest, he glared at Shakuni with mounting frustration.

"How in the hell are you the smartest man when you can't answer one damn question without making my blood boil?!" He roared, punching another soldier and sending it sprawling across the battlefield.

"Mama! Where the hell are the others?!" Duryodhan's voice was a mix of frustration and worry as he fought fiercely.

"Do I look like their bloody nanny to you, Duryodhan?! And why the fuck is he sleeping?!" Shakuni shouted, pointing at Dushasan.

"He...is injured," Yuyutsu choked out, his voice strained as he battled through the horde.

A wave of sadness and anxiety swept over the Kuruvanshis. "Deva!!!" Duryodhan roared, his fear for Dushasan palpable. He continued to slash and flay bodies with a desperate energy, his eyes searching frantically for his brother.

Suddenly, another crash echoed through the chaos as a figure cannonballed over the wall, landing with a powerful thud. A cunning axe was gripped tightly in his hand. "Get to Dushasan!" Duryodhan roared, his voice cutting through the battlefield.

Sehdev blazed through the throngs of dead soldiers, his axe flashing with deadly precision as he sliced through the undead like grass. He reached Dushasan, where Nakul was already at his side. Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them. Their hands warmed up, energy crackling and bursting at their fingertips.

Gandhari and Dushasan's wife, clutching Dushasan's side, cried in relief as Sehdev and Nakul crouched beside him. Their energies pulsed through their fingers, flooding into Dushasan. The injured warrior gasped as the magical healing began to work, hope sparking in the eyes of those around him.

The other Kuruvanshis formed a protective human shield, their movements a coordinated defense against any undead that tried to reach Dushasan. With each swing of their weapons, they flayed the dead soldiers mercilessly, their bickering fading into the background as they fought with a fierce determination to protect their own.

The battlefield, once a cacophony of roars and clashing steel, began to show signs of a tenuous calm. Amidst the swirling mists of smoke and dust, a miraculous scene unfolded.

Dushasan's eyes fluttered open, a gasp escaping his lips as he sat up. His gaze darted around, taking in the chaos and the faces of those who had fought so fiercely to save him. The wounds that had once marred his body were now completely healed, the bloodstains vanished as if by magic.

"Welcome to the world of the living, brother," Sehdev's voice was laced with both relief and a teasing edge. A smirk tugged at his lips as he looked down at Dushasan.

Dushasan's mother and wife were instantly at his side, their arms wrapping around him in a tight, heartfelt embrace. Tears streamed down their faces, mingling with the dirt and grime of battle.

"I thought you were done for," his wife sobbed, her voice trembling with emotion as she clung to him. "Don't ever scare us like that again."

"Next time you pull this stunt, I'm going to whip your damn ass," Nakul warned, though his voice was hard, it was filled with a tender affection.

Dushasan laughed, a sound that was both joyous and poignant. "You all are legit choking me with affection," he teased, his voice cracking slightly as the relief washed over him.

His wife and mother gave watery chuckles, their hands lightly slapping his chest in a mixture of affection and playful reprimand.

"Dumb idiot," Sehdev said affectionately, his voice breaking slightly as he fought to hold back more tears.

The moment was filled with warmth and a sense of family that contrasted sharply with the grim reality of the battle around them.

But that warmth was short-lived as Rana's voice cut through the tender scene with a chilling mockery.

"How sweet! May no evil ever touch this cute family," Rana crooned with mock affection, his lips curled into a malicious grin.

His tone was a stark reminder of the danger that still loomed over them, a shadow that threatened to engulf their hard-won reprieve.

The battlefield, which had roared with the clash of steel and the cries of the fallen, fell eerily silent as a new terror unfolded. The combatants' eyes turned toward a new, horrifying sight.

Rana, his expression twisted with sadistic glee, had a firm grip on Roshini's hair. The young girl's face was streaked with tears, her body trembling as she cried out in fear. The sharp edge of Rana's blade traced a menacing path down her cheek, the glint of the steel catching the dim light.

"Roshini!" Bhanumati's scream cut through the silence. She lunged forward, only to be yanked back by a soldier who threw her roughly at the feet of Druveda. Druveda's smirk widened as he fisted Bhanumati's hair, lifting her head with a cruel tug.

"What a beautiful present," he sneered, his eyes gleaming with malicious pleasure.

The sight of the two women, terror-stricken and helpless, made the battle freeze. The Kuruvanshis' eyes were locked on the horrifying tableau, their weapons momentarily forgotten as they stared in shock.

"That is enough fighting! Drop your weapons!" Drupad roared, his voice echoing over the battlefield. He mumbled an incantation, and with a wave of his hand, the weapons scattered on the ground, disappearing from the fighters' grips.

"Come here, Draupadi!" Ayushman's voice rang out as he cleaved through another soldier. His eyes searched the crowd, landing on Draupadi who stood protected behind Bheem. Bheem growled, his protective stance radiating a fierce, unyielding energy.

"Over my dead fucking body," Bheem swore, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and madness as he glared at Ayushman.

Ayushman's wicked smile grew. "Okay, kill the kid then!" he said with a casual shrug, his tone dripping with casual cruelty.

Roshini's scream pierced the air as Rana's grip tightened on her hair. His dagger hovered dangerously close to her delicate neck, sending waves of terror through the assembled family.

"Nooo!" Duryodhan, Pauravi, and Bhanumati roared in unison, their voices choked with desperation.

"Don't!" Bheem's voice broke through the chaos, his heart pounding as he tried to maintain control. The twins, too, echoed his cry, their faces contorted with a mix of fury and horror.

"I'm coming!" Draupadi shouted, her voice trembling as she scrambled away from Bheem.

"Drau..." Bheem whispered, his voice laden with pain. Draupadi shook her head, their eyes locking in a silent exchange.

"How will I know you're not lying?" she whispered, her gaze shifting to Ayushman who feigned a hurt expression.

"I am your brother, Drau. How can your jyest lie to you?" Ayushman taunted, his eyes wild with a twisted desperation. "This is not your family game show where you expect qualities like trust, bitch! Either you come here or I kill this brat!" He roared, nearly frothing with fury.

"Drau, no..." Dhara's voice was a hushed whisper, fear seeping into her tone. "He's lying. He won't let them go."

Draupadi's eyes filled with tears as she looked at Roshini, who was sobbing uncontrollably. The girl's cries cut through Draupadi's resolve, twisting her heart with each pitiful wail.

"I'm coming, my child," Draupadi whispered soothingly, though her heart was breaking. She looked up at Bheem, her eyes pleading.

"Please, Arya. He'll kill her," she begged, the anguish in her voice evident. Bheem's protective instincts flared, a storm of rage and helplessness crashing inside him.

He knew Ayushman's game; it was a trap, a cruel manipulation. Yet, the sound of Roshini's cries was a piercing dagger in his chest.

"Please..." Draupadi's voice wavered as tears streamed down her cheeks. She tried to smile, a desperate attempt to offer reassurance, but it only made Bheem's heart ache more. The agony in his eyes was palpable as he struggled with his own desperation.

Sehdev's gaze was locked on his wife, his chest tightening with fear and possessiveness. The intensity of his protectiveness was almost palpable, and as he watched Draupadi's struggle, he felt a deep, primal rage.

The gears in his mind shifted rapidly. He glared at Ayushman, his energy beginning to crackle with an almost tangible force. His fingers twitched, itching to release the power he was harnessing to protect his loved ones. . .

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