But deep in his heart, Elder Mardana knew — those warriors were clearly involved in the great battle that had just caused the mountain to erupt. He simply didn't want to involve ordinary people in the vortex of a major conflict.
"Do you know where they came from?" Elder Mardana continued casually, though his mind was busy tying together the threads of a growing pattern.
The man nodded. "We're not entirely sure… but some villagers said they came from the direction of the capital, Jayakarta. And strangely, they didn't look like locals… some had blonde hair, and their clothes were unfamiliar—not like our traditional garments."
Elder Mardana and Baskara exchanged glances. "They also asked… if any other group like them had passed through our village," the man continued, "and… one of the villagers overheard something—they were searching for an 'item'… or a rare power."
Elder Mardana exhaled deeply.
"Baskara, we need to report this to Grandfather Pradipa," he murmured seriously. "If they truly came from a foreign land and are searching for a rare power… and if a clash that powerful erupted on the mountaintop—then this is no longer a personal matter. This could threaten the safety of Tirta Negara."
"You're right, Elder. We can't delay any longer. We should head home at once," Baskara replied with a serious tone, his eyes now filled with concern. He couldn't keep his thoughts from drifting to his mother and his extended family in Tirta Negara. If the conflict truly escalated, and his family got involved… what if they couldn't endure?
Meanwhile, the old man who had spoken with them just now realized something shocking—the young warrior standing beside Elder Mardana was… just a child! "Good heavens… that boy… is only ten?" he muttered inwardly, utterly stunned. It made no sense. A child that age should be just starting to learn breathing techniques and body strengthening. But this one… not only could control energy, he even flew without a spiritual aid.
"Well then, we'll take our leave," said Elder Mardana politely.
"Of course, Warrior…" the old man replied, still wearing a stunned expression.
Baskara bowed respectfully, and alongside Elder Mardana, their bodies shot into the sky, speeding back toward their ancestral land.
---
Elsewhere, in the grand sitting room of Grandfather Pradipa's residence—decorated with ancient carvings and the glow of spiritual lanterns—Grandfather Pradipa was receiving a very distinguished guest.
As he listened to the nobleman's lengthy explanation, Grandfather Pradipa's expression grew troubled. Not because he didn't grasp how dire the situation was, but because of his instincts as the family patriarch. Years of experience had taught him: when high officials or nobles came to visit humble families like the Baskaras, they rarely brought aid—only burdens, wrapped in cooperation.
"…And indeed," the nobleman continued firmly, "the ones who destroyed the summit of Mount Loka Geni were no ordinary fighters. They represented two powerful factions: one from the nobility of Tirta Negara, and the other from the capital, Jayakarta—reinforced by warriors from outside the Nusantara. They clashed over one thing: an extremely rare spiritual fire artifact."
Grandfather Pradipa frowned. "And… who holds the artifact now?"
"It's in our possession. But of course… Jayakarta won't sit still. They want it back," the noble replied, leaning forward. "If the families of Tirta Negara don't unite, the entire region—including the lesser families—will suffer the consequences."
Grandfather Pradipa closed his eyes briefly, then spoke in a deep voice, "But… what benefit is there for a family like ours, Sir? We'll get involved, perhaps sacrifice much… yet there's no guarantee of protection or equal compensation."
The nobleman only looked at Grandfather Pradipa, offering no direct answer. In his mind, he likely knew—that question wasn't easy to answer with honesty.
Grandfather Pradipa sighed slowly. Deep down, he knew: he had little choice. Whether he liked it or not, the Baskara family would be dragged into this storm.
"Very well, Sir," he said calmly. "We'll discuss this with the family elders. Then we'll decide."
The nobleman rose, as if Grandfather Pradipa's nod was answer enough.
A nobleman sat upright, dressed in a long robe of royal purple and gold, his family emblem gleaming on his chest: a flaming-winged eagle—signifying a high noble family, ranked above all tier-one families.
His face was stern, his deep voice resonant and commanding. "So, do you understand the situation now, Grandfather Pradipa?" he asked, firmly pressing his point.
Outside the family residence, just as Baskara and Elder Mardana landed, the atmosphere felt different than usual. The family guards stood more alert than normal, and the spiritual energy in the air was noticeably tighter.
"Looks like your grandfather has important guests," said Elder Mardana, eyeing the main building from afar. "You'd best return to your parents' house for now, child."
Baskara nodded, though his mind was still filled with worry about the eruption at Mount Loka Geni and all they had witnessed. "Yes, Elder. I'll go home now."
"Take care on your way, Baskara."
They parted ways, each carrying a heavy mind. Meanwhile, inside the main family compound, a silent wave was beginning to rise.
That night was quiet. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves in the yard. Inside the warm home, Baskara sat cross-legged between his mother and father. His face beamed, a smile spread across it like that of any ordinary child—though in silence, he held a great adventure with Elder Mardana from earlier that day.
"How was your day, son?" his mother asked gently, brushing his hair with care.
"Good, Mom… I just went with Elder Mardana to find some plants outside the city," Baskara replied casually, hiding the fact that he had witnessed a volcanic eruption, saved a village, and seen two great powers battle in the sky.
Meanwhile, in the Baskara family's Grand Hall,
The elders' meeting had begun. Torchlight and lanterns lit up the luxurious room, filled with the scent of agarwood and subtle incense. At the center sat Grandfather Pradipa—calm yet commanding. Around him, elders from various family branches were gathered: Wira Dharma, Aswina, Cakra Dara, Phasta, Subhaga, and Kirandi.
"What are your thoughts?" Grandfather Pradipa opened. "Should we involve ourselves in the conflict between the Tirta Negara nobility and the faction from Jayakarta?"
Elder Wira Dharma crossed his arms. "I only want to know one thing, Grandfather… What exactly is the treasure they're fighting over—something that could cause Mount Loka Geni to explode and destroy hundreds of kilometers of forest?"
Grandfather Pradipa gazed at him deeply, then motioned subtly to a guard standing behind. The guard stepped forward, bringing a scroll wrapped in cloth.
"According to information from our agents in Tirta Negara…" said Grandfather Pradipa as he slowly unrolled the scroll, "the treasure is called the Eternal Flame of the True Gem. A core of fire element said to appear only once every thousand years. Whoever possesses it is said to have complete command over fire across the continent."
All the elders fell silent. Even the lantern flames seemed to hiss softly.
"The Eternal Flame… of the True Gem?" Elder Cakra Dara muttered. "That's not just a spiritual artifact. That's… a legacy from the age of legends. Did it truly appear on that mountain?"
Grandfather Pradipa gave a slow nod. "And now… it's in the hands of the Tirta Negara nobility. But Jayakarta won't stop. If we stay passive, their war could spill into our city."
Elder Kirandi, in a deep voice, asked, "So... you mean to say we should assist the nobility?"
All eyes turned back to Grandfather Pradipa, awaiting his answer.
"Of course, if it's not properly handled, that treasure will become a fire of destruction," said Grandfather Pradipa, his gaze sharp. "I've heard from the ancestors… the Eternal Flame of the True Gem cannot be used lightly. If the wielder's soul isn't compatible, its power will last no more than thirty years. After that, the fire element will leave the body… and return to a place where fire is abundant."
Several elders nodded slowly. That statement was not only a warning—it was also a subtle critique. Even though the nobility had many talented heirs, not all of them were worthy of inheriting such a legacy.
Elder Aswina let out a breath…