And so, the match began. With complete confidence, Subrata was the first to move. He lunged forward, launching a barrage of punches from both fists. Yet Rangga, calm and composed, evaded each strike with graceful precision. Occasionally, he would deflect one or two blows—not with the intent to counter, but to subtly alter the direction of Subrata’s attack, making his rhythm falter.The crowd’s excitement surged. A few spectators began edging closer to Aji, who stood at the edge of the arena. They were gamblers—faces tense, eyes gleaming with greed—hoping the handsome young man would give some clue as to who would emerge victorious. None of them had yet placed their bets, and they sought an omen, a whisper, anything from Aji that could tilt fortune in their favor. If he hinted at who would advance to face him in the final, their purses would grow heavy with gold.But Aji had already read their intentions. Though he had discerned who held the upper hand between Rangga and Subrata, not a

No one in the audience could have predicted Rangga’s defeat. The entire arena fell into stunned silence as his body was hurled off the stage. Even Ratih and Aji were left wide-eyed, disbelief freezing their expressions as the dust settled.A heavy sigh of disappointment swept through the crowd. Everyone had expected a grand finale between Aji and Rangga—two warriors of equal strength and pride. But fate, it seemed, had chosen a different path.“What a shame,” Aji murmured under his breath, the words carrying the weight of genuine regret. He had been certain that Rangga would claim victory.Rangga approached, his steps steady despite the loss. When he reached them, a faint but warm smile curved his lips. “I’m sure you’ll win tomorrow,” he said, his tone calm but sincere. “In terms of skill, you’re far superior to him. But be careful—he’s a cunning man.”Aji met Rangga’s gaze and smiled back, his confidence unshaken. “Don’t worry,” he repl

“Very well—if that is your decision. But do not come to regret it when you lose that arm. And remember: I never forced you to step into the ring tomorrow.”Subrata’s face was steady with the stubborn pride that had defined him for years. “I understand, Master. I have weighed the risks and the costs. I only ask that you lend me your full support.”“As long as the disciples of the Black Tiger Sect walk the righteous path, you shall have my support,” the old man replied. He rose slowly, the joints of his hands creaking like weathered wood, and moved to leave. “I will book a room and remain here tonight.”“So you will stay to see me fight?” Subrata asked, a spark of consolation in his voice.The elder only inclined his head, a measured, almost paternal gesture, then stepped out into the corridor and vanished into the night.---Dawn broke with a pale, breathless hush over the tournament grounds. Aji, Ratih, and Rangga departed t

Subrata vaulted back onto the stage, his movements heavy with fury and humiliation. The old warrior’s pride had been torn to shreds, his dignity crushed beneath the laughter and whispers of the crowd. Never, in all his years walking the path of the martial world, had he imagined that such disgrace would befall him—let alone at the hands of a man young enough to be his own son.His breath came ragged and fast, chest heaving with every intake of air. Rage burned within him like a storm that refused to die.“Can’t accept your defeat, Elder?” Aji’s calm voice cut through the tension like a blade through silk. His tone was mocking yet steady, his eyes gleaming with cold amusement. “If you’re truly that dissatisfied, then come—attack me. I’ll be more than happy to oblige.”“Curse you!” Subrata spat, his voice hoarse with fury. “I’ll make you suffer before I tear your soul from your body!”From his seat near the stage, the headmaster of the Black Tiger Sect exhaled heavily. His aged eyes dar

“Where will you go after this, Rangga? Why don’t you come with us instead?” Aji asked, his tone gentle yet filled with genuine concern.Rangga did not respond right away. His gaze turned distant, the flicker of hesitation crossing his eyes as he considered the road ahead—one paved with uncertainty and ghosts from his past.“Where are you two heading?” he finally asked in return, as though needing to measure their path before deciding his own.“We’re traveling to the Dragon Sword Sect,” Aji replied calmly. “Would you like to join us?”At the mention of that name, Rangga’s expression instantly changed. His face stiffened, and for a fleeting moment, the warmth in his eyes was replaced by a shadow of pain.“What’s wrong, Rangga?” Aji asked, noticing the sudden shift in his companion’s demeanor. “You look startled. Did something happen between you and the Dragon Sword Sect?”“It’s nothing. I just—” Rangga’s words faltered, caught somewhere between truth and restraint.“Say it,” Ratih inter