Reborn In 17th century India with Black Technology

"This baby is the gift I received from Lord Shiva because we don’t have a child. So from now on, I will raise this child as my own, and I will not take no for an answer."

She was determined, and her will was firm as her eyes locked daggers with her husband’s. "Uh!" Her husband, the tribal chief, knew there was no changing her mind, so he obliged, as he did not mind having this child as his son.

The readers firmly nodded their heads in approval of the choice made by Sanga, the matriarch of the tribe. Although the readers did not know if going up the mountain was a good idea or not, by the tone of the book, they knew it was not the right choice, so they were happy with the decision made by Matriarch Sanga.

The story became more immersive as the child, who was named Shivudu after Lord Shiva, grew up in peace in the tribal village along with many friends.

The child grew unusually strong, with a chapter dedicated to the time when he was only eight years old and was able to lift a pot filled to the brim with water as he wanted to help his mother.

The tribals were greatly surprised by his strength, but they didn’t think much of it as the story proceeded.

Shivudu grew bigger and taller, reaching a height of 5 feet 6 inches, weighing around 65 kilograms, and entering his teenage years at 14.

One fine day

"Ahhh!" Shivudu screamed as he felt a burning pain all over his body. He felt a sensation of his blood boiling and slipped into a dream where he saw illusions of multiple figures shrouded in sunlight blazing through a battlefield like shooting stars.

Shivudu wanted to scream for help just as he regained consciousness, but the pain had already disappeared, so he did not bother anyone in his family any longer.

But as months went by, his episodes of boiling blood continued to become more frequent. He realized that something unusual was happening with his body since every time the boiling blood effect ended, he felt much stronger, much more durable, and sensed that his sensus had been enhanced.

Moreover, he would feel immense hunger every time his episode ended. For this reason, Shiva did not want to scare his mother into thinking that he was some sort of a monster.

As time went by, he grew taller, his shoulders became wider, and he developed into a strong young man of 20 years, standing seven feet tall and weighing 120 kilograms.

He was built like a divine being at the peak of his youth and life, but his parents had become substantially older, and his mother had become much more stubborn as she refused to talk to him due to his unwillingness to marry someone.

No matter how much Shivudu persuaded her, she wouldn’t listen and was adamant in her stubborn ways. She proceeded to bring water from the river one pot at a time in order to bathe the idol of Lord Shiva as a ritual to make her son quickly find a woman to marry.

As Sanga continued her stubborn devotion, her feet began to bleed, and everyone started to get worried, but no one could go against the fiery temper of the matriarch—not even her husband.

Shivudu was filled with immense guilt and anger. He went into the house with irritation, brought out a strong metal beam, and approached the idol.

"Boom!"

He lodged the metal beam under the idol, causing a few loose rock chips to fly.

The onlookers were shocked by the act of blasphemy, but since the person committing the blasphemous act was the son of the patriarch, no one immediately wanted to stop him. However, the news spread throughout the village and Shivudu’s actions eventually reached the ears of the village priest and his mother, Sanga.

"Crack!"

In shock, Sanga dropped the pot she was carrying back to the shrine.

When she got back, there were many onlookers; her husband was one among them, as he sat on the ground in defeat, resting his head in despair.

Seeing her son proceed to pry the rock from under the idol, Sanga became very angry. She picked up a large stick nearby and swung it as hard as she could at her son, but sadly, she realized that her son was too strong, and the stick broke apart.

Eventually, she, similar to her husband, crumbled onto the ground, crying her eyes out.

The priest arrived right at that moment, wanting to stop Shivudu, but Shivudu, using all his strength, brought down the iron rod with a roar.

"Crack!!"

The large crack spread under the idol, separating it from the rock below.

Shiva then threw the iron rod to the side and got down by the idol. He firmly gripped both ends of the idol and tried his best to lift it.

"Shivudu!"

Shiva’s childhood friends wanted to persuade him to stop, as the task of lifting the idol was impossible, but the priest motioned for them to remain silent, as he watched something extraordinary unfold.

"Ahhhh!"

With a scream, his biceps and forearms bulged, snapping apart the bead ornaments he was wearing. The soil beneath his feet rumbled slightly as he finally managed to lift the idol of Lord Shiva, completely made of rock and weighing at least 1000 to 1100 kilograms, onto his shoulder, with a victorious smile on his face.

This scene left everyone shocked; their mouths were wide open as they all uniformly joined their hands in devotion. It was as if they were witnessing Divinity with their own eyes.

Even the patriarch and the matriarch couldn’t take their eyes off their son, as they did not understand how any human could lift the weight of the destroyer of the worlds, Khalabhairava.

Not to mention the people within the novel; even the readers were greatly shocked by the scene depicted in the story. They felt goosebumps running all over their bodies.

"God!" Uday exclaimed with amazement.

"This is it! This is how novels should be!" Raghavendra clenched his fists in excitement and ran around his room like a crazy, hormone-filled teenager on drugs.

"What a chapter!" Even Edward Harrington, who was a firm and devout Christian, became excited after reading it. Although he did not know the significance of Shivudu’s actions, he was captivated by the clear and vivid descriptions provided in the novel, which painted an amazing scene in his mind and left him craving more, even if the things described were clearly against his faith.

Shivudu, carrying the Linga on his shoulder, proceeded to move toward the waterfall as the people of the tribe followed him devoutly, like devotees behind a god.

Shivudu jumped into the river and sank to the riverbed, which left many of the tribals worried. But in the shallow part of the river, he moved forward, and as he did, he climbed onto the shore, where the face of Lord Shiva arose from the depths of the water.

Shouts of the tribals resounded again as what they were witnessing was completely fitting the title of Gangadhar, which signifies God Shiva as the one who holds the sacred River Ganga.

Shivudu rose up from the river and eventually got beneath the waterfall, where he slid the idol of Lord Shiva under the brute force of the flowing water.

The priest, as if noticing something, proceeded to chant the mantra of Pranab Pratishta, which is a chant to invite the energy of the divine to be attached to the idol.

The tribals felt the special aura and immediately prepared the musical instruments and started playing the traditional tunes played during shrine festivals.

As for Shivudu, he sat in front of the Linga, mesmerized. Even though hundreds of kilograms of water were falling on top of him like life-ending torrential rain, he sat there motionless, his body unaffected from the outside. But on the inside, a lot of amazing changes were taking place.

A mysterious energy started to bubble in his body, which made his blood boil. This time, he could clearly feel that something was about to awaken; he instinctively knew that what was being awakened was something like his birthright—something he was born with.

The volume of the waterfall and the weight of the idol only served to stimulate the mysterious force in his body.

The awakening reached a critical point, and Shivudu instinctively knew that the pain of boiling blood was about to come next. He didn’t want to worry his parents, so he quickly dove into the river and ran into the forest.

The tribals didn’t pay attention to this action as they continued their respect and devotion to the Shiva idol, which majestically stood under the waterfall filled with more attraction than before. But Sanga realized the unusualness of her son’s actions.

She quickly tried to follow him.

Shivudu went into the cave he normally used to pass the period of boiling blood, which left him defenceless.

But this time he was unlucky, as a small snake had managed to make the surroundings of the cave its home during the time Shivudu was absent. So when Shivudu entered the cave, the snake immediately thought of him as an intruder. But noticing the unusually strong and intimidating body, it hesitantly and slowly hissed at the intruder.

Realizing that Shivudu did not move, the snake knew it had to make its move quickly.

To be Continued...n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om