The two warriors emerged from Aji’s chambers after a brief but deliberate council, their minds set on a single purpose: to find where King Surajaya indulged his vile appetites. It seemed unthinkable that he would sully his own private quarters with such depravity—thus, they knew they must search the palace’s lesser-known halls and hidden chambers for the place where he kept his victims.For what felt like hours, they wandered the labyrinthine corridors of the palace, their footsteps silent against the cold marble floors. Torches cast dancing shadows across walls adorned with tapestries depicting the glory of Kalingga’s past—scenes of heroes and dragons that now felt like bitter mockeries of the realm’s current corruption. At last, their path led them to a section of the palace they had rarely traversed, where a heavy wooden door stood flanked by guards.Fifteen soldiers were posted there, their backs straight and their hands resting on their sword hilts—far more than would ever be ass

King Surajaya fixed his gaze upon the noble-faced man before him, his features twisted into a mask of searing rage. His index finger jabbed forward, pointing accusatorially at Aji, while his teeth ground together so fiercely it seemed they might shatter beneath the weight of his boiling fury. “You have poisoned my daughter’s mind until she dares to raise her voice against me! You have turned her heart from her own blood!”Aji offered a slight, calm smile in return, his eyes holding neither fear nor malice—only a steadfast resolve that burned like a quiet flame. “If Your Majesty believes I have swayed Her Highness to my will, then you are gravely mistaken. Princess Larasati possesses a wisdom beyond her years, with a clear sight to distinguish right from wrong. The acts you have committed throughout your reign are not mere missteps—they are great and unforgivable transgressions against both your people and the very laws of honor that bind our world.”“Do not presume to teach me of hono

Aji felt a fleeting flicker of disarray as he faced the relentless assault—but even so, his trained senses had already begun to unravel the patterns woven into each strike from the man who stood as Princess Larasati’s father. Every movement, every shift in weight, every subtle twist of the blade spoke of centuries of martial legacy, and though the speed of the onslaught tested his focus to its very limit, he could feel the rhythm of battle settling into his bones.King Surajaya’s attacks grew ever more ferocious, each blow carrying the weight of a crown scorned and a kingdom he believed had been betrayed. With a snarl that rumbled like thunder across the moon-draped battlefield, he reached for the weapon at his hip—the legendary blade whose name had echoed through tales of heroism and ruin since the dawn of Kalingga. With one swift, decisive motion, he drew forth the Threads-of-Nature, its steel gleaming with an otherworldly light as if it had drunk the very essence of the stars. His

At the sight of his only daughter rushing to sacrifice herself for the man who sought to end his reign, King Surajaya’s rage blazed into an inferno that threatened to consume all reason. Every muscle in his jaw clenched tight, his features twisting into a mask of fury—and yet, somewhere deep within his chest, a fragile thread of restraint still held fast. For Princess Larasati was his own flesh and blood, the last living reminder of the wife he had once loved with all his heart. Even in his darkest moments, he could not bring himself to raise his hand against the child he had guarded since the day she drew her first breath.“Step aside, my daughter—move away from this beast of a man!” he commanded, his voice like grinding stone, sharp with authority and barely contained wrath. “Do not force my hand to turn upon you as well—do not make me blind to all that is good in this world!”“No, Father!” Princess Larasati cried out, her voice ringing clear despite the tears that streamed down her

Aji could see the depth of longing in the princess’s beautiful eyes—the quiet hope that he might set aside his past and stand beside her as her consort. Yet even as he recognized the sincerity of her feelings, he knew in his heart that such a path was impossible. Ratih had been his anchor through every trial, his partner in both love and battle, and he had sworn an oath to her that would bind them for all their days. No other place existed in his heart—not for a princess, nor for any other.“Forgive me, Your Highness,” he said gently, his voice carrying the weight of absolute certainty. “Ratih and I have pledged ourselves to one another, in life and in death. There is no room in my heart for another—no matter how kind, how wise, or how worthy she may be.”Princess Larasati fell silent, her gaze dropping to the ground as shame washed over her like a cool mist. She had let her heart lead her to speak words that now felt reckless and unfair—words that sought to take from another what cou