The four warriors who had emerged from the tavern came to an abrupt halt when they saw that Aji and Ratih had not yet departed the establishment. Moving with deliberate care—as if treading through sacred ground where even the smallest misstep could shatter the peace—they advanced toward the couple, their eyes fixed on the pair with a mixture of respect and purpose.“Lord Aji …” one of them called out, his voice carrying clearly through the quiet afternoon air.Aji and Ratih turned as one, their gazes shifting to find the source of the greeting. When they saw that the speakers were the same four warriors who had shared the upper room with them at the tavern, they pivoted their bodies fully to face the approaching men, their postures relaxed but alert—habit forged by years of life on the road and in battle.Aji furrowed his brow in obvious confusion, his mind racing to place their faces or recall any meeting that might have passed between them. He was certain he had never laid eyes on t

“I have been thinking the very same,” Aji said, letting out a heavy sigh that carried the weight of his frustration. His mind felt like a labyrinth with no clear path forward—without more information, solving this case seemed an impossible task. “But who is this woman, and where in this village are we to find her? We have nothing to guide us but whispers and old memories.”“Has any one of you laid eyes on her before?” he asked, turning to the four warriors who stood ready before him.“I have, my lord,” spoke up one of the men—a tall, broad-shouldered warrior whose presence commanded respect even in his plain traveling clothes. “I saw her when she came before the king to file her complaint—she passed through the great hall as I stood guard at the entrance.”“Did you see her face clearly enough to recognize her again?”“Not every detail, my lord—but her bearing, her voice, the way she carried herself. I would know her if we should meet again—that I swear to you.”“What is your name?” Aj

Could it be that his mother, Diandra, was the very figure being spoken of by the two individuals within that grand manor? The question clung fast to Aji’s thoughts, weaving through every corner of his mind like ivy creeping across ancient stone walls.If such a truth held firm, then his mother Diandra must be safeguarded with the utmost vigilance imaginable. It would be folly to dismiss the possibility that should they learn the woman now lived in peace and wholeness, paths of brutal violence might well be forged to preserve the standing of Duke Ranamungkarna.In a moment of unguarded movement, his sleeve caught against a heavy iron lantern, sending it tumbling from its perch high above. Aji reached out with swift intent, yet the weight of the fixture was too great to stay its fall—it crashed against the earth below with a resounding clang that shattered the night’s quiet, rousing the curiosity of the guards posted at the manor’s gates. Even several village elders, gathered nearby to

The soldiers of Duke Ranamungkarna stood frozen, their mouths agape as they watched the four elite guards bow their heads in unwavering deference to Aji. In their minds, only one conclusion could be drawn: this strikingly handsome man must be a high-ranking noble of the royal court. For what other reason would warriors of such esteemed standing—members of the kingdom’s most revered guard—show such profound respect to a single individual?The bald mercenary leader fixed Aji with a glare as sharp as shards of obsidian. Then, without warning, he threw back his head and roared with laughter—so loud and boisterous that his thick, sweeping mustache (which curved across his lips like the great Bengawan Solo river winds through the land) bounced up and down with each heave of his broad shoulders.“Hahahaha! Those four whelps could not hope to stand against me, and you—you think you can fare any better?”Aji offered nothing more than a faint, almost imperceptible smile at the verbal assault. T

As the group filed into the room, their eyes swept across the spacious chamber—but not a single soul could be seen within its walls.“Search every inch of this place—find them now!” Aji commanded, his gaze cutting through the shadows as he took in the room’s layout. Three massive wooden cabinets stood against the far wall, their doors carved with intricate patterns of vines and flowers. Near the center of the room sat a set of heavy chairs arranged around a round table, and beside it lay a neat stack of ancient books and palm-leaf manuscripts, their pages yellowed with age.One by one, the cabinets were thrown open, their contents revealed to the light. But instead of finding Duke Ranamungkarna and Village Chief Surananta, the searchers discovered piles upon piles of treasure—gold coins glinting like captured sunlight, gemstones of every color winking from velvet cushions, and chests filled with silk fabrics and precious metals beyond counting.“It seems they have fled, Sir,” one of t