THE LAST WARRIOR REVENGE

The True Knight

The next morning, Arga slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Kirana Dewi, standing near the window, getting dressed.

Because she hadn’t yet finished putting on her clothes, Arga accidentally caught sight of her bare figure, illuminated by the soft morning light. His face instantly flushed, and he quickly turned his head away, heart pounding wildly in his chest.

“H-how are you here, in my room?” he asked, still avoiding her gaze.

Kirana froze, startled. She hadn’t expected him to wake up while she was still dressing. In a fluster, she rushed to cover herself, fumbling with her clothes as her cheeks burned a deep red.

“I’m sorry,” she said once she had dressed properly. “I… I just borrowed your bathroom. My clothes were soaked with your blood from last night’s wounds.”

Arga sat up slowly, his body still aching but his mind growing clearer.

“So it was you… the one who saved me last night,” he murmured, his eyes finding hers.

Kirana smiled faintly.

“No, it was you who saved me, Arga. If you hadn’t protected me, I would have been the one who died out there.”

Arga gave a small chuckle. “So, we saved each other then.”

She laughed softly, though her eyes were still filled with concern.

“Today there are still a few matches left, aren’t there? Shouldn’t you rest? You’re in no condition to fight.”

Arga smiled despite his pale face.

“Don’t worry about me. Go home for now. Before you leave, tell Lastri to come here—I need her help.”

Kirana hesitated. She wanted to insist, but one look into Arga’s determined eyes silenced her.

“Sooner or later,” Arga said quietly, his tone darkening, “I’ll find the man who attacked us last night. I’m certain he’s still nearby. And if my guess is right, I’ll face him again—this time, in the arena.”

Kirana said nothing. She could only nod and leave the room in silence.

After she was gone, Arga glanced down at the bandages wrapping his torso and smiled faintly.

“Not bad,” he thought. “She knows how to treat wounds.”

A few minutes later, Lastri entered the room.

“Do you need anything, sir?” she asked politely.

“Yes,” Arga said, “could you bring me my clothes?”

Lastri nodded and went to fetch them from the wooden wardrobe. She helped him dress carefully, avoiding his injuries.

“Breakfast is ready,” she said with a bright smile. “I’ve prepared it myself.”

Arga nodded appreciatively. Lastri hurried out, returning soon with a tray of food. She placed it on the small table near his bed. The aroma filled the room, warm and comforting.

Arga sat cross-legged on the mat, his stomach rumbling. “Who cooked all this?” he asked while scooping some rice.

“I did, sir,” Lastri replied shyly.

“Oh… well, you’re quite the cook,” he said, taking a bite of grilled fish along with a bit of spicy sambal. “This is really good.”

Lastri’s eyes sparkled with delight. “I’m glad you like it, sir.”

Arga ate heartily, almost forgetting the pain from last night’s battle. His body felt weak, but his spirit was burning once again.

“Eat slowly, sir,” Lastri said gently as she poured him a cup of water.

When he was done, Arga rose to his feet. His strength had returned. The Blood Sword, an heirloom once belonging to Bhirawa, hung across his back.

“My instincts never fail me,” he muttered, stepping out of the room toward the crowded arena.

That day marked the final round of the great tournament—the match that would decide who would earn the Scroll of Eternity.

From the stands, Kirana Dewi watched anxiously. Her father noticed her unease.

“What’s troubling you, my daughter?” he asked.

Kirana hesitated before answering, “Last night someone attacked Arga while he was with me. The attacker nearly killed us both. Arga protected me with his own body.”

Her father’s expression darkened. He turned toward the second master beside him.

“What happened? Why was my daughter targeted?” he whispered sharply.

The second master leaned closer. “Please, stay calm. What matters is that your daughter is unharmed. Everything is proceeding according to plan,” he whispered back.

Kirana frowned, sensing something secretive in their words. “What are you two talking about?” she asked suspiciously.

“Oh, nothing, my dear,” her father replied quickly. “I simply asked the second master to investigate last night’s incident. I won’t allow anyone to harm you.”

“Yes, young lady,” said the second master with a forced smile. “I’ll handle the matter personally. For now, focus on the match. Announce that Arga has withdrawn—he’s injured, and it would be dangerous for him to fight.”

Kirana’s eyes narrowed. She had never liked the second master. His sly grin and wandering gaze made her uneasy. Even now, she caught the way his eyes lingered on her, shameless and vile.

Without saying another word, Kirana descended to the arena floor. The stands were overflowing with spectators, buzzing with anticipation for the grand finale. They were eager to see one man above all others—the famed Red Warrior, Arga.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Kirana began, her voice trembling slightly, “with deep regret, I must announce that Arga, the Red Warrior, has withdrawn from today’s match due to injuries sustained last night. Therefore, only ten participants will continue in the final round.”

Gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd. But before she could say more, a blur of movement shot across the sky.

A figure landed gracefully in the center of the arena—dressed entirely in black.

It was Arga.

The spectators erupted into cheers, shaking the entire coliseum.

Kirana stared at him, stunned. She thought he had been joking when he said he’d still come, but there he was, standing tall and proud, dressed in darkness.

The crowd grew wild, shouting new names and titles for him.

“Long live the Dark Warrior!” someone cried, and soon the chant spread through the masses.

Dark Warrior? Arga almost laughed, but he kept a straight face, unwilling to lose his composure before Kirana.

“You actually came?” Kirana asked, her voice filled with both relief and worry. “Are your wounds really healed?”

Arga gave her a confident smile. “Don’t worry. I’m not as weak as you think.”

Kirana’s heart skipped a beat. For some reason, seeing that smile made her chest tighten.

“Announce it,” Arga said firmly. “The True Knight hasn’t withdrawn after all.”

Kirana nodded, lifting her voice for all to hear.

“Attention, everyone! The True Knight has arrived! The undefeated warrior will continue to battle among the remaining contestants!”

The crowd roared again, louder than before.

Arga smiled to himself.

That’s better, he thought. If she’s truly interested in me, she should know—I don’t like weak women.