LOGINA horse thundered toward the pavilion at a full gallop.
Several servants who were lighting lanterns around the sprawling estate looked up in alarm. Whoever was arriving wasn't an ordinary guest.
He leaped from the saddle before the horse had even come to a complete stop—and somehow managed not to land face-first in the dirt.
The sun had just vanished beyond the horizon, leaving streaks of gray-blue twilight overhead, when the broad-shouldered man strode hurriedly toward the pavilion. Behind him, several house guards chased after the runaway horse.
The newcomer had barely reached the steps when a large figure emerged from the main house.
Bajul.
"Is it about the dead body they burned earlier?" Bajul asked immediately.
"Yes. Where's Wisnumurti?"
"Inside. Come on."
The two men entered the main residence.
In the front room, several men seated on a bamboo platform immediately rose to greet the newcomer. He wore a long-sleeved jacket, a knee-length cloth wrap, and a finely crafted kris tucked into his belt. Everything about his appearance suggested a man of rank.
"This is Senopati Bantala," Bajul said, introducing him to Wisnumurti. "Chief of security for Lord Adipati Jayapati."
The officer offered a formal greeting, which everyone returned.
Ki Somanagara invited him onto the platform beside himself, Wisnumurti, and Jaladri. Bajul remained standing nearby with his arms folded across his chest.
"Have you identified the victim yet?" Wisnumurti asked.
Senopati Bantala shook his head.
"Not yet. I ordered the burial immediately before panic could spread through the city."
The afternoon's events had thrown Karang Bendan into chaos. Not only had a murder occurred in the heart of town, but the victim's corpse had then been publicly burned on Wisnumurti's orders. Afterward, he and Jaladri had assisted the city guards in cleaning up the aftermath before returning to the Somanagara estate.
Everyone had expected the authorities to come asking questions. Now they had.
"So what exactly is this Lambang Merah Clan?" Senopati Bantala asked. "My men reported hearing you mention that name."
Wisnumurti leaned back slightly.
"It's a mystical cult."
The room fell quiet.
"Their headquarters are in Corpse Forest, about twenty miles northeast of Pasir City. Unlike most spiritual orders, they don't seek unity with the One Creator—Allah, as we call Him in Islam," his eyes darkened. "They seek the opposite."
Ki Soma straightened.
"You mean..."
"They worship the Devil. They recruited people—persuading them if possible, forcing them if necessary. Those who willingly join eventually commit suicide so they can supposedly unite with the Devil in Hell."
"And those who refuse?" Jaladri asked.
"They're murdered. As sacrifices. And all of it takes place during elaborate ceremonies attended by large crowds."
"They kill themselves together?" asked Bajul.
"Sometimes. And sometimes they kill others together. From what I've heard, more than ten people can die during a single ritual. The volunteers die first. Then the unwilling victims are slaughtered. Some members are so far gone that they collect the victims' blood afterward and drink it together."
Nobody spoke for several moments. Finally Senopati Bantala broke the silence.
"Then why did you order that corpse burned immediately? The fire was enormous. We were lucky it didn't spread to Tumenggung Bahusasra's residence next door."
Wisnumurti's face became serious.
"The most terrifying weapon Lambang Merah possesses is an exploding corpse. They kill their victims using a specialized poison. After a certain amount of time—roughly the time it takes to cook rice—the poison destabilizes inside the body."
His gaze swept across the room.
"Then the corpse explodes."
Nobody even breathed.
"The poison disperses through the air afterward. A single body can kill everyone in an entire district."
Senopati Bantala stared. Ki Soma slowly lowered his teacup.
"A corpse killed that way must be burned before detonation occurs," Wisnumurti continued. "Lambang Merah has used the technique repeatedly in remote villages around Corpse Forest. Wiping out an entire village is considered a highly valuable offering to the Devil."
Ki Soma stroked his graying beard.
"And now one of them has reached Karang Bendan..." he sighed. "That's a bad sign."
"It is. I've heard several reports of similar incidents over the past few weeks. They're becoming increasingly bold and operating far outside their territory."
Senopati Bantala grimaced.
"I've also heard rumors of a series of killings in the martial world. Are they true?"
"Yes. Two victims so far."
Wisnumurti then recounted the murders of Ki Saradipa and Kiai Sangkrah, both allegedly committed by the mysterious man calling himself Pangeran Langit.
"These aren't ordinary killings," he concluded. "Both men were murdered in front of their own disciples and followers. And the killer openly announced who he was."
Senopati Bantala frowned.
"Most murderers spend their lives hiding their identities."
"Exactly. This one advertises his."
A troubled silence followed.
Ki Soma muttered, "What's happening to this world? Murders everywhere. Human life seems to have lost all value."
"Don't worry," Jaladri said. "That doesn't mean it'll happen here."
"And despite all this," Wisnumurti said dryly, turning toward him, "you still want to go wandering across the countryside looking for adventure?"
The reaction was immediate.
"What?" Ki Soma's voice boomed through the room. "You absolutely are not doing anything foolish!"
Jaladri rounded on Wisnumurti.
"What kind of friend are you? I tell you something in confidence and you throw me straight into a pit."
He kicked Wisnumurti's crossed leg. Wisnumurti burst out laughing.
"Didn’t you told me to discuss your brilliant plan with Uncle Soma?"
"Not like that, idiot!"
Ki Soma looked at Wisnumurti. "So he asked you to convince me to let him accompany you in your adventure?"
Wisnumurti gave a small nod.
"More or less."
Fortunately for Jaladri, inspiration struck quickly.
"But Mother wanted to send clothes and food to Uncle Gede in Kenipir anyway."
Everyone looked at him.
"If we're only going there, what could possibly happen? Assign Bajul and me to deliver everything. Wisnumurti can stop by before continuing his hunt for Pangeran Langit. After that, he can go wherever he want to go, while Bajul and I come straight home. A week at most."
Wisnumurti raised an eyebrow.
"Is that actually true, or is this just a clever excuse?"
"It's true,” Jaladri pointed at his father. "Ask him."
Ki Soma fell silent.
"There is such a plan," he admitted. "And frankly, I don't trust the younger servants with it."
Wisnumurti smiled.
"In that case, we'll take it. It's been a long time since I've seen Ki Gede and his family. Pratiwi must be growing up now."
Ki Soma chuckled.
"A little older than Pramesti. And her parents had already begun looking for a suitable husband for her."
"Good luck with that. That girl's stubborn as hell."
"So are you. She's got that same free spirit as yours. She'll probably make every prospective husband pass a test before she agrees to marry him."
"Can we stay focused here?" Jaladri interrupted before anyone redirected the conversation toward his own marriage prospects. "Am I allowed to go or not? It's only Kenipir. One day's ride. Leave at dawn, arrive by sunset. The road is good now. Most of it can even be traveled on horseback."
"When are you leaving?" Ki Soma asked.
"Tomorrow," Wisnumurti replied. "I want to attend the gathering at Mount Wijil."
Ki Soma thought for a long moment. Then he exhaled.
"Fine."
Jaladri sat upright.
"You may go. As long as Bajul accompanies you."
Jaladri nodded vigorously.
"Done."
"And if there is any sign of Lambang Merah or Pangeran Langit on the road..." Ki Soma pointed at both young men. "You stay out of it."
"Agreed."
"Good."
Ki Soma took a sip of tea.
"Then after you return, you'll meet your future wife."
The smile vanished from Jaladri's face. Instantly.
"What?"
Everyone laughed.
"What do you mean? My future wife?"
"You heard me."
"But I'm not ready to get married!"
Ki Soma snorted.
"No man is ever ready for that. If men waited until they felt ready, nobody would marry until Judgment Day. There are too many beautiful women in the world."
Wisnumurti nodded solemnly.
"I agree."
"Hey, shut up! Mind your own business! Are you even ready to get married?"
“Maybe, but you’re still the one getting married first.”
The room erupted with laughter.
“This just got interesting, didn’t it? Especially because we already know exactly who’s around you that could’ve trained you in martial arts. There’s Bajul. Ki Gede. Pratiwi. If any of them thought you had talent and wanted to help, they’d simply call you over—or better yet, drag you into a sparring match. So why all the cloak-and-dagger nonsense? Who was that man? Why did he choose you instead of Bajul?”“And you don’t feel anything unusual now, do you?” Bajul asked. “Because that kick from the Senopati wasn’t meant to scare you. It was meant to cripple you. I honestly thought you were dead. At the very least, unconscious for a week. But you’re walking around like nothing happened.”Jaladri rubbed the spot on his chest where Natpada’s foot had landed.“It hurt right here for a minute. I couldn’t breathe for a little while. Then... it just went away. I’m fine now.”“It was Senopati Natpada who took the real beating,” Wisnumurti said. “He’s probably still seeing stars. He flew halfway
The bedroom door opened.Wisnumurti stepped inside, yawning. He shut the door behind him.Jaladri and Bajul, already stretched out on the wide wooden platform bed, immediately sat up. Both had been ready to sleep, wrapped in the sarongs Ki Soma had packed for them before they left home.“I thought you were planning to stay up until dawn,” Jaladri said, yawning as well.“Ki Buyut and the others certainly hoped so,” Wisnumurti replied as he removed his lower garment and pulled a sarong from his travel bundle. “They love it whenever a martial artist passes through. Those old men can talk all night about anything—ghost sightings, haunted places, strange happenings.”Jaladri leaned against the bamboo wall. Truth be told, he was no different. As long as Wisnumurti was telling stories, he could stay awake until sunrise without complaint.“So it’s true?” he asked. “Senopati Natpada was actually going to have Sarni’s family beheaded just because Sarni was sick? I heard Ki Rantang talking about
The young village girl was almost certainly the latest beauty Prince Candrakumala had decided to add to his collection of concubines. Perhaps one of his men had heard about her while passing through villages like Brabo and carried the story back to him. The prince became interested, and now his senopati had arrived to collect her.As a wanderer, Wisnumurti had seen scenes like this far too many times. Normally, he would have stayed out of it. The affairs of royalty were dangerous ground.The problem this time was the violence. He understood exactly why Jaladri had nearly exploded moments earlier. They had just come from two villages where infants and toddlers lay butchered among the dead. Seeing a baby tumble from her mother’s arms after three armed men shoved her to the ground was enough to send anyone’s blood pressure through the roof.Perhaps the family had shown less than perfect obedience. Perhaps the girl herself had resisted. It was only natural. She was about to be taken from
They moved quickly. Wisnumurti took hold of Jaladri’s horse while Bajul swiftly lowered the wounded man to the ground.“The same throat wound?” Wisnumurti asked.“Exactly the same,” Jaladri replied. “This man probably wasn’t in the village when it happened. He must have run into the aftermath and tried to escape. The other injuries are different. Maybe a tiger got him. Or a wild boar.”Wisnumurti and Bajul crouched beside the man, who looked about the same age as Ki Soma. He lay unconscious, drenched in blood. Deep gashes covered his chest, stomach, even his neck. The wounds certainly looked like the work of a wild animal.He had lost far too much blood. There was no saving him.But he was still alive.His chest rose and fell in ragged, desperate breaths, every inhale a battle against pain that must have been unbearable. Ordinary people—those without the heavy physical training as soldiers or martial artists—often died not from the wounds themselves, but because their bodies simply su
Jaladri scrambled back up the gentle riverbank and rejoined Wisnumurti and Bajul. The sun was already high overhead, beginning its slow drift westward.After half a day on the road from Karang Bendan, they had found the perfect place to stop—a small stream with crystal-clear water winding through the countryside.The three men ate lunch from the banana-leaf-wrapped meals prepared by Ki Soma’s household.Now their stomachs were full.They could ride straight through until reaching Kenipir, which lay west of Karang Bendan.The route between the two settlements was well maintained. Because travelers moved along it frequently, the road remained wide and level enough for horses, wagons, and ox carts to pass comfortably.It was also remarkably safe.Bandits rarely preyed on travelers between Karang Bendan and Kenipir, allowing ordinary people to travel without needing large caravans or hired swords for protection.Farther west and northwest, however—beyond Kenipir and toward the Royal City
“Wake up.”The whisper was so faint it was almost inaudible. Yet something inside it carried enough force to yank Jaladri out of sleep instantly. And the very first thing he realized was that he was trapped in sleep paralysis—fully conscious, eyes open, but unable to move a single muscle.It had happened to him before. What was unusual was the voice. He was certain he'd heard someone whisper.Had it been real? Or was it one of the spirits rumored to haunt the estate? His family's residence had a reputation. Guards and servants regularly claimed to see headless ghosts wandering the grounds, giant black-furred creatures lurking in the gardens, or shrouded specters floating among the mango trees beside the pavilion.Jaladri, however, had never seen any of them. Not once.“Relax. I’m not a ghost.”His heart slammed against his ribs. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed a shadow standing in the corner of the room near the door. The figure was difficult to make out, almost compl







