Arga still lay weak on the bamboo mat, his body heavy as if a mountain pressed upon him. He had been unconscious nearly an entire day, and even now, the faint flicker of his inner strength struggled to reignite. Nearby, Banu Wijaya groaned softly, clutching his chest where pain still lingered like a burning coal beneath his ribs.Arimbi tended to them both with a quiet patience. Her hands moved gently, grinding herbs and applying salves her master had once taught her to make. Yet despite her efforts, Banu’s wounds were far too deep. He would need weeks, perhaps months, to recover. And this place—this small, forgotten inn at the edge of a desolate forest—was far from safe.“What should we do now?” Arimbi asked softly, kneeling beside Arga’s side. Her voice trembled between worry and fatigue.“Wait a little longer,” Arga murmured, his eyes still closed. “Give me one more day. My inner energy is nearly depleted… I need time to recover.”Arimbi frowned. “But you and Banu... both of you su

The sound of galloping hooves echoed from afar—sharp, hurried, and unsettling. Villagers turned their heads as a group of riders thundered through the narrow dirt road, passing the small houses that lined the edge of the valley.Each horse carried large sacks strapped to their sides. From those sacks, a dark crimson liquid dripped to the ground, leaving a trail of blood and an acrid stench that hung thick in the air, making the villagers’ stomachs churn.The riders stormed into the Black Serpent Sect compound. The sound of their arrival reached the homes of Ki Kalam and Ki Sura, the two senior masters of the sect.“They’ve returned! Wicaksono must have succeeded—just as I hoped,” said Ki Kalam, excitement flashing in his weary eyes.The two elders rushed outside, heading toward the main training hall where the sound of horses had stopped. But when they arrived, what they saw froze their blood.The horses stood restless and snorting—but their saddles were empty. There were no riders. O

The next morning, Arimbi prepared breakfast for Arga. She had decided to cook alongside the innkeeper.Before she descended the mountain from her place of study, Arimbi often cooked nasi bakar—rice wrapped in banana leaves and grilled with fish seasoning and basil. Her teacher once said that her cooking was remarkably delicious.That was why, on that morning, Arimbi made it especially for Arga. It was the first time she had ever prepared a meal for a man.Arga looked at the rice that had been cooked inside a bamboo tube. With just one glance, he could already tell it looked delicious. Arimbi took the rice out and placed it on an earthen plate lined with banana leaves.“Please, try it, brother. I made it myself,” said Arimbi with a cheerful smile.Arga dipped his fingers into the bowl of water to wash them, then took a handful of the grilled rice and tasted it. The girl who secretly loved him waited nervously for his reaction.When Arga’s eyes widened, Arimbi immediately panicked.“Wha

Ki Sura laughed in satisfaction. He stood half-bent due to the effect of Arga’s internal-energy strike.“Well? Can you compare your previous attack with the one I just told you about?” asked Ki Sura.Arga stared at the old man in confusion. He felt as if he was being taught by a master, yet he didn’t know how to react, because for him this was a real battle.“The name of the technique you just acquired is the Sun-Drawing Technique,” Ki Sura said.“What do you actually mean by teaching me this technique?” Arga asked.“Hey! Who said I taught you anything!? Even my student needed six moons to master that technique! You did it in the blink of an eye! You’re far too talented to be my student!” Ki Sura exclaimed.Arga still didn’t understand Ki Sura’s intention, but he didn’t care anymore. He quickly launched another attack.Ki Sura didn’t stay still. With the power he possessed, Ki Sura easily gathered wind energy in his hands.“Now, take this!” Ki Sura said as he threw the wind sphere tha

Arimbi caught the distant rhythm of galloping hooves—heavy, deliberate, and growing louder with every breath. Instinctively, she crouched behind the charred remains of the broken fence, peering through a gap where the wood had been shattered during the previous battle.Her bright, clear eyes widened as she recognized the silhouette atop the approaching horse. The old man circled the ruined gateway, scanning the area with a predatory sharpness that made Arimbi’s heart clench.She was certain it was the same enemy who had pursued her when she fled alongside Arga.And that man—none other than Ki Kalam—dismounted his horse with a thud. His narrowed gaze swept across the devastated Sect grounds. His attention briefly lingered on the horse tied beneath the damaged pavilion.“Woe, villain! Come out now!” his voice thundered, echoing through the ruined structures.Ki Kalam strode into the shattered Sect. The scent of dust and old blood still lingered in the air. A faint smirk crossed his lips