2025-06-19 20:46:42
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The First Clash
“A classic question indeed,” Aji chuckled lightly, his gaze sweeping across the four crimson-robed warriors whose faces were contorted with seething rage. “If you wish me to keep my distance, then cease this cowardly ganging up! Are you not ashamed to overwhelm a man of such advanced years? What would your families think if they knew you were no better than bullies—preying only on the elderly because you dare not face those your own age?”“Insolent whelp! Have you only just emerged from obscurity into the martial world that you do not know us—the Four Crimson Sickle Warriors? We fight as one, always—as our name has long proclaimed!” one of them snarled, his knuckles white where he gripped the hilt of his massive curved blade.“Hahaha! You are nothing but four frightened men hiding behind each other’s shadows,” Aji laughed, his voice ringing with sharp mockery. “You band together because you lack the courage to stand alone, is that not so? If you were true warriors, would you not face
Offering Aid
That night, Aji and Ratih rested beneath the roof of the grand house belonging to the maiden they had saved. For the first time in many days, they slept deeply and without disturbance, their weariness washed away by soft beds and the gentle peace of a home untouched by darkness.At dawn, the crowing of roosters echoed across the village in harmonious chorus—as if the earth itself were stirring awake to greet another day. Golden rays of sunlight spilled over the hills, warming the soil and breathing life back into the world. Like all living things, humanity stirred with the light, returning to the rhythms of work and community that had guided them for generations.Aji and Ratih awakened to the same familiar sound, the roosters’ calls cutting through the quiet of their guest chambers. They rose refreshed, their bodies renewed by the night’s rest, and made their way to the dining hall where the merchant and his family awaited them with a feast of warm bread, fresh fruit, and spiced porri
An Example to Follow
Ratih and the three young women made their way out of the Dark Sect compound, stepping carefully over the charred earth that marked the edge of what would soon be nothing more than ash and memory. Behind them, Aji entered one of the remaining standing halls and retrieved a lit lantern from a stone pedestal—its flame still burning bright despite the chaos of the night before.With deliberate purpose, he moved from building to building, touching the lantern’s flame to curtains, wooden beams, and dry rushes laid across the floors. One by one, the structures erupted into brilliant fire—great tongues of orange and red reaching toward the sky as the ancient wood crackled and roared. Aji left nothing untouched; not a single wall or roof was spared the cleansing heat of the flames.From outside the walls, the handsome warrior joined Ratih and the maidens, all of them standing in silence as they watched the sea of fire consume the compound. Most of the buildings had been constructed primarily
The Death of Wiro Sentiko
“The time has come to send you to meet the God of Death, old man!”With deliberate grace, Aji drew the Earth Dragon Sword from its scabbard. The moment his fingers wrapped around the dark steel blade, it blazed with a fierce crimson aura—waves of intense heat rolling off it like steam from boiling water, painting the surrounding darkness with shades of burning red.“Impossible… how can he wield a legendary blade with such immense power?” Wiro Sentiko murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. Cold sweat streamed down his face, mixing with the dark blood that continued to seep from his grievous wounds. His eyes were wide with a terror he could no longer conceal.In all his long years as a warrior, Wiro Sentiko could count on one hand the number of times he had faced true defeat—and each time, his opponent had been an aged master whose power had been forged over decades of battle. But now, he stood broken and beaten at the hands of someone young enough to be his grandchild—a fact t
Poisoned Tiger Claws
“It seems I underestimated you, old man,” Aji said, his voice carrying over the clash of their movements as he pressed forward with a relentless barrage of strikes. “Your skills are… respectable, I suppose.”“Respectable?!” Wiro Sentiko roared, twisting aside to avoid a fist that would have shattered his ribs. He had managed to evade the last few attacks, but each near-miss left him breathless and shaken. The casual way his opponent spoke sent a chill down his spine—if this handsome young warrior considered him merely ‘respectable’, then his own power must pale in comparison to what lay hidden within Aji.Aji shifted his stance, and his attacks came faster still—each punch, each palm strike moving with a fluidity that defied logic. Wiro Sentiko struggled to keep up, his eyes darting frantically as he tried to predict the next move. Aji’s fighting style was like water—constantly shifting, never staying the same, and so beautiful in its precision that any observer would have been left i
Too Late
Cold sweat streamed down every inch of Suronoto’s skin, soaking through his robes and beading on his brow like morning dew. No matter where he turned, no matter how he twisted his body to evade, Aji’s sharp blade followed close behind—its edge gleaming with deadly intent, as if hungry for his blood.“Let us see how far you can run,” Aji said, his voice low and steady, carrying across the silent courtyard with the weight of judgment. His eyes were like chips of obsidian, piercing and dark, as if they could strip away Suronoto’s flesh and see the very fears hidden within his heart.In that moment, Aji’s thoughts drifted from the battle at hand to those who waited for him beyond the Sect’s walls—his beloved wife Ratih, and the three young maidens whose safety had become his sacred duty. The urgency of returning to them pressed upon him, and he knew it was time to bring this conflict to its end.A smile, sharp and intimidating, curved Aji’s lips as he channeled his internal energy, drawin
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