"Lord Shiva is on top, and if death must be used to atone for my sins, then I am willing to bear all this, but he, this baby, must survive, to wait for the day of recognition with his mother, to live to inherit the throne of Mahishimedeh, Mahabharata. Baahubali must survive. ”
Bharadeva: You didn't choose me, but you chose him, and now where are the others? Or honestly admit it, Deva Rhino. Over the years, who has, where, on what occasion, who has mentioned his name? Those long, dark nights, in the silence, only the sound of their own handcuffs and ankle chains. Have you heard his name in this time of despair? No. Mahishimade had forgotten him, Devasana. Since the people in the streets no longer discuss him, there must be no one who can think of him. There are only two people in this country who remember him, me and you. You remember him because you want to see him again before you die, and I remember him because I want to kill him again with my hands, but unfortunately I can't do it.
Katapa: You are pinning all your hopes on a man who is no longer alive, Dear Madame, please come with me, please stop doing these stupid things. (Accidentally lost the branch in Deva Rhino's hand)
Devana: Do you think even you think I'm a crazy woman picking branches here, Katapa? This is firewood for cremation, this is the cremation for Baladeva, and I will burn his body and blood to ashes with a red fire. My son will come back, and he will put the beast on a crematorium and light it again, and then he will let the raging fire burn the beast alive, and let the weeping of Bharadva penetrate all the walls of the kingdom of Moses mordecai. He must come back.