But who would have thought—the unexpected happened just as Baskara successfully obtained his first spiritual plant.
BOOM!!
A thunderous explosion shook the air. The ground beneath their feet trembled violently, and from the direction of Mount Loka Geni's peak, came a blast like the sound of the world being torn in two.
"Damn it!!" Elder Mardana exclaimed, his eyes wide. "We have to get out of here—now!" he continued, grabbing Baskara and immediately flying away from the source of the chaos.
And sure enough—the towering, barren peak of Mount Loka Geni erupted! The summit shattered, spewing debris and earth for miles in every direction. Reddish-black smoke billowed into the sky, followed by a wave of scorching wind spreading out for hundreds of kilometers. The nearby trees were instantly swept away—those closest were completely incinerated, and those farther away caught fire one by one.
The vast jungle that once looked like a sea of green turned into a sea of fire.
From the heart of the chaos, glowing red lava began flowing down the mountain's core, splitting the earth and devouring everything in its path.
Elder Mardana and Baskara quickly activated a Defense Technique: Hall Gate, a high-level spiritual shielding art that formed a protective dome-like barrier. A golden aura enveloped their bodies, neutralizing the heat and shockwaves raging through the air.
They floated high in the sky, observing from a distance.
And in the midst of the ash and flames, two figures could be seen hovering in the air. Their bodies were covered in wounds, and their breaths were ragged. Behind each of them, hundreds of followers floated in battle-ready stances.
"This... is a clash between two great forces," Elder Mardana muttered grimly. "It seems they're fighting over something… perhaps a spiritual treasure, or an artifact from ancient times."
Seeing this, he quickly turned to Baskara. "We can't stay here any longer. Their battle is far beyond our reach… and could easily drag anyone in without mercy."
Baskara nodded solemnly. He could feel it—his aura itself was being suppressed just by being nearby. Even a mountain constantly scorched by lava could collapse—what chance did he have?
"You're right, Grandpa… this is how it should be," he replied, his eyes fixed on Mount Loka Geni, now blazing like an open gate to hell.
And so, they shot away, fleeing from the fire, blood, and chaos that showed no signs of ending.
As they flew away from the blazing Mount Loka Geni, Baskara's gaze swept across the horizon, now filled with thick smoke and flashes of distant flames.
But then his eyes landed on a heartbreaking sight—burning forests, and not far from them, a small village being consumed by fire. From above, the collapsed houses, burning rooftops, and panicked civilians running for safety and trying to put out the fires were clearly visible. Though miles from Mount Loka Geni, they were still affected. This was no ordinary eruption… it was clearly the result of a battle between powerful cultivators.
"Grandpa," Baskara said quietly but firmly, pointing to the village, "I don't see any cultivators there… I think we need to help."
Elder Mardana followed his gaze, and his face turned grim. "You're right… there are no spiritual protectors there. We can't let them burn alive…"
Without delay, they swooped down. Scanning from the air, they looked for a water source—and soon found a swiftly flowing stream.
"Use the water transport technique," said Elder Mardana.
They immediately began working together. Using combined spiritual energy control techniques, they lifted water from the stream and directed it in large waves toward the burning houses. Baskara used his fire and wind techniques to create empty zones, preventing the fire from spreading, while Mardana conjured water pillars to flood entire village paths.
Within an hour, the fires were extinguished.
Smoke still hung in the air when an old man—his body still upright and strong despite his white hair—approached them quickly. He bowed respectfully before them.
"Thank you… to you two warriors. Without your help… our village might've turned to ash, and far more lives would've been lost…"
Elder Mardana nodded calmly. "There's no need for excessive thanks. It's only right that we help each other in times of disaster."
The man looked at them with curious eyes. "Forgive me for asking… but did the two of you come from the direction of Mount Loka Geni?"
"We did," Elder Mardana replied with a calm but cautious tone. "We just came from Mount Loka Geni… initially to search for some rare herbal plants." He concealed their true purpose, not wanting to spark unnecessary worry or suspicion.
But before he could continue, the old man quickly asked, "Then… what of the warriors who went there a month ago? Did you happen to see them?"
Baskara glanced at his grandfather, and Elder Mardana responded with a thoughtful expression.
"Hmm… do you know those warriors?" Elder Mardana asked carefully.
"Of course," the old man answered. "Before heading to Mount Loka Geni, they stopped by our village. Some of them even seemed to be… observing something. Their behavior was strange. One kept staring at the mountain from afar, while another asked questions about the flow of spiritual energy in this area…"
Hearing that, Elder Mardana narrowed his eyes slightly, though he remained composed. "Don't worry too much. They're not ordinary people. They can take care of themselves."
Yet deep in his heart, Elder Mardana knew—the warriors were clearly involved in the massive battle that had caused the recent volcanic eruption. He simply didn't want to drag civilians into the whirlpool of a great conflict.
"Do you know where they came from?" Elder Mardana asked casually, though his mind was already connecting the dots forming in his thoughts.
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 people from our land… some had blonde hair, and their clothes were foreign, nothing like our traditional attire."
Elder Mardana and Baskara exchanged glances. "They also asked… if there had been another group like them passing through our village," the man continued, "and… one of the villagers overheard them mention—they were searching for an 'object'... or a rare power."
Elder Mardana let out a deep sigh.
"Baskara, we must report this to Elder Pradipa," he said gravely. "If they really are from a foreign land and are seeking a rare power… and such a fierce clash occurred on the mountain peak—then this is no longer a personal matter. It may concern the safety of Tirta Negara."
"You're right, Elder. We mustn't delay any longer. It's better if we return immediately," Baskara said seriously, his eyes filled with growing worry. He couldn't stop his mind from drifting to thoughts of his mother and his extended family in Tirta Negara. If this great conflict truly spreads, and his family gets caught in it… what if they can't withstand it?
Meanwhile, the old man who had been speaking with them just realized something shocking—the young warrior beside Elder Mardana was… just a child! "Heavens… that boy… he's only ten years old?" he muttered internally, utterly stunned. It didn't make sense. At that age, a child should barely be learning basic breathing techniques and body strengthening. But this boy… not only could he control energy, he could even fly unaided by any spiritual tools.
"Well then, we'll take our leave," said Elder Mardana politely.
"Of course, Warrior…" replied the old man, still visibly shaken with disbelief.
Baskara gave a respectful nod, and with Elder Mardana, their figures shot into the sky, flying swiftly back toward the ancestral lands.
---
Elsewhere, in the grand sitting hall of Elder Pradipa's residence—adorned with ancient carvings and glowing spiritual lanterns—Elder Pradipa was receiving a very important guest.
After listening to the nobleman's lengthy explanation, a trace of doubt crossed Elder Pradipa's face. Not because he didn't understand the gravity of the situation, but because of his instinct as the head of the family. His long experience had taught him that when high-ranking officials or nobles sought out modest families like the Baskaras, they rarely brought true aid—more often, they came bearing new burdens disguised as "cooperation."
"…And as expected," the nobleman continued firmly, "the ones responsible for the destruction at Mount Loka Geni's peak weren't ordinary fighters. They were two factions representing immense powers: one from the nobles of Tirta Negara, and the other from the capital, Jayakarta—reinforced by warriors from beyond the Nusantara. They clashed over one thing: a rare spiritual treasure of the fire element."
Elder Pradipa frowned. "And… who holds that treasure now?"
"It's already secured by our side. But of course… the Jayakarta side won't sit idly by. They want to reclaim it," the nobleman replied, leaning forward. "If the families of Tirta Negara don't unite, then this entire region—including all families beneath the nobility—will suffer the consequences."
Elder Pradipa closed his eyes briefly, then spoke with a heavy tone, "But… what benefit is there for a family like ours, sir? We may be involved, perhaps sacrifice much… yet there's no guarantee we'll be protected or rewarded fairly."
The nobleman merely looked at Elder Pradipa, offering no direct response. Perhaps in his heart, he too knew—it was a hard question to answer with honesty.
Elder Pradipa took a slow breath. Deep down, he knew: he didn't have many choices. Like it or not, the Baskara family would be drawn into this storm.
"Very well, sir," he said calmly. "We will discuss this with the family elders. Then we shall decide."
The nobleman stood, as if Elder Pradipa's nod was all the answer he needed.
He stood tall, clad in a long robe of golden purple, his family crest emblazoned on his chest: a flaming-winged eagle—marking his house as a high-class noble family, above even the first-class families.
His expression was stern, his voice deep and heavy with command. "Do you understand the situation now, Elder Pradipa?" he asked, full of pressure.
Outside the family estate, just as Baskara and Elder Mardana landed, the atmosphere felt noticeably different. The family guards stood more alert than usual, and the spiritual energy in the air felt denser.
"Looks like your grandfather is entertaining an important guest," Elder Mardana said, eyeing the main building from a distance. "You should head back to your parents' house for now, child."
Baskara nodded, though his mind remained clouded with concern about the eruption of Mount Geni Loka and everything they had witnessed. "Alright, Elder. I'll go home for now."
"Be careful on the way, Baskara."
They parted ways, each carrying a heavy heart. Meanwhile, within the family residence, a great wave was beginning to rise—silently and steadily.