After the awe that had momentarily frozen the atmosphere gradually subsided, the Ancestor finally spoke.
"Good, my child... you've truly satisfied me."
He then turned to Pradipa. "Pradipa, which elemental affinity suits this child?"
Pradipa took a deep breath, recalling the strange incident from before. "I'm not entirely sure, Ancestor. When I tried to test his potential using the crystal stone, before it could even glow, the stone cracked and split in two. At that point, I gave up on trying other stones. But... when I gave him the Silent Step technique, which uses wind, and Blazing Palm, which uses fire, he understood them immediately. I suspect... for now, this child might be capable of mastering all basic elements."
The elders murmured quietly. They were slowly becoming accustomed to Baskara's strangeness and his extraordinary talent. One of them whispered,
"Such a terrifying gift..."
The Ancestor slowly nodded, then walked closer to Baskara.
"Very well. Starting today, I personally grant you full access to the Ancestral Martial Hall. Here, take this card. You are free to come and go, choose your own meditation chamber, and train as you wish."
Baskara accepted the card respectfully.
"Thank you, Ancestor."
"Let us return. That is enough for now."
The Ancestor turned around, followed by the elders, leaving behind the now-tranquil lake—though it still held traces of the immense power within the boy named Baskara.
Before a towering, majestic building, the group arrived and stepped inside. The structure radiated an ancient aura and authority, despite being surrounded by advanced technology. They stopped in front of a massive door, solid and protected by an intricate spiritual mechanism.
"This is the Ancestral Hall," said the Ancestor, gazing at the door. "A place where martial techniques, weapon-crafting knowledge, medicinal concoctions, and meditation arts from level 3 to level 8 are stored."
Baskara's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm at the explanation.
"Give me the card, child," the Ancestor requested.
"Here it is, Ancestor," Baskara replied, handing it over.
The Ancestor stepped forward, placing the card on a mechanical box beside the door. Instantly, spiritual light flared, and the hall's entrance slowly opened, releasing the scent of aged wood and unseen forces.
Inside, Baskara saw massive shelves neatly arranged. Some held thick books, while most displayed medium-sized binong wood tablets, aligned with precision. Faint spiritual energy flowed between the carvings on the tablets.
"Those books store techniques from level 3 to 5," the Ancestor explained. "The binong wood tablets contain techniques from level 5 to 8. We don't use books for higher-level techniques—they're too thick and complex. Binong wood is more durable and ideal for spiritual carvings. They can last over two centuries."
Baskara nodded with growing curiosity.
"Look at the end there, five doors. Those were once the meditation rooms of our elders. Now, you may choose one as your private space."
The Ancestor then added in a firm tone, "But remember. To access techniques level 5 and above, you must first get permission from Elder Pradipa. Every high-level technique tablet is sealed with a restriction sigil. Understood?"
"Understood completely, Ancestor," Baskara replied eagerly.
But his expression soon softened.
"But… for now, I'd like to go home. It's been a long time since I saw Mother."
The Ancestor smiled, his eyes softening at the boy.
"Hahaha… a child is still a child. Even with a mature soul, you're still a seven-year-old boy longing for your mother's embrace. Very well, go home. This hall will be here waiting for you."
After bidding farewell to the elders, Elder Pradipa decided to escort Baskara home.
"Alright, I'll walk you to the front of the house," he said gently. "And remember—keep the Ancestral Hall and everything inside it a secret for now. Your parents only need to know that you're still training at your grandfather's home. Understood?"
His face remained kind, though his presence still carried authority.
"Understood, Grandpa," Baskara replied with a small smile.
When they arrived, Elder Pradipa simply nodded and turned away. Baskara opened his front door.
"Father, Mother, I'm home!" he called out.
Tirta was the first to greet him at the door.
"Oh, you're back, my dear. How did it go? Were you successful?"
"Of course! Who else but me? I'm awesome!" Baskara answered, proudly tapping his nose.
Tirta chuckled warmly.
"Yes, my son is the best. Hahaha! Oh, by the way, Dinda came earlier with her parents. She wanted to say goodbye. She's going to study martial arts in another city. She asked about you."
Baskara's face became neutral, slightly blank.
"Oh, I see. That's fine."
"Don't be like that… she already sees you like a real big brother," Tirta said gently.
"Well, there's nothing we can do… it seems Grandpa has high hopes for me," Baskara replied calmly, though a hidden weight lingered in his voice.
Tirta nodded slowly.
"That's true..."
"Alright then, are you hungry, my dear?" Tirta asked again with a smile.
"Yes! I've missed your cooking so much!" Baskara exclaimed as he hugged his mother tightly.
Tirta smiled warmly and stroked her son's head.
"Alright, enough cuddling. I'll cook for you and your father. Just wait here, okay?"
"Okay, Mother!" Baskara responded with enthusiasm.
That morning, the sun's rays stretched gently between the trees as Baskara stepped out of the house. He wore simple clothes, yet his eyes burned with determination. Not to school like other kids his age—but to the Ancestral Hall, the beginning of his long journey.
At the door, Tirta hugged him tightly, trying to hide her worry behind a smile.
"Take care, my dear..." she whispered softly.
Teguh, still seated with bandages covering parts of his body, looked at his son with a mix of pride and emotion.
"Remember, never push yourself too hard… True strength is born from wisdom, not anger."
Baskara merely smiled. Yet behind that smile, emotions stirred. A deep desire to protect. A yearning to be strong enough… so his parents would never have to suffer because of him again.
"Yes, Father… Mother… I'll come home soon."
Not long after, a modest black car stopped in front of the house. A middle-aged man—an envoy of Elder Pradipa—opened the rear door.
"Young Master, shall we go?" he asked politely.
Baskara climbed into the car, and as it slowly drove away, Tirta waved gently. Her smile remained warm, though her eyes shimmered faintly with tears.
The distance between their home and Elder Pradipa's was only a few hundred meters...
In the courtyard of a luxurious school blending futuristic architecture with traditional nuances, a seven-year-old girl sobbed quietly in her mother's arms. Her name was Dinda—the only daughter of a prestigious family who had just decided to enroll in a renowned martial arts school.
"There, there… hush now, don't cry. We're not parting forever," her mother whispered gently, holding the small body tightly.
"Yes, Dinda. You must study diligently there. Even though you're a girl, you must be strong and resilient," her father added, softly stroking her head.
Dinda wiped her tears, then stood up firmly, straightening her new uniform. Though her cheeks were still wet, her gaze now revealed determination.
"Alright, Mom, Dad… I'll study hard, so one day I can protect you both…"
Her parents smiled proudly.
"That's our daughter…"
They bid her farewell and walked away from the school gates, while Dinda slowly stepped through the gates of her own destiny.
---
Meanwhile, in the ancestral hall...
Baskara sat cross-legged before Eyang Pradipa. The vast hall was not only a repository of high-level martial knowledge but also a place to study worldly wisdom—for true power must be grounded in deep understanding of the world one protects.
"Listen well, Baskara," said Eyang Pradipa as he drew a holographic map in the air. "Our world is no longer what it once was. After the Earth expanded tenfold, many regions changed in shape and function. Nations fractured."
The city they now lived in was called Tirtanagara, located in the western part of a great elongated archipelago. This region was once part of a single grand nation. But after the Earth expanded and spiritual energy erupted in the new era, various territories broke away.
"Some became kingdoms, others republics," the elder continued.
"But since our tribes and cultures had already blended before the world shattered, we maintained our shared bloodline and heritage in a single alliance: the Nusantara Alliance."
Their nation now took the form of a republic, with a grand capital city called Jakarsana. Many other nations faced similar changes—some fragmented, others remained intact.
However, the abundant spiritual energy and ever-advancing technology didn't cause civilization to collapse. Instead, it grew stronger and more advanced.
Baskara listened intently, realizing that his future duty wasn't merely about combat power—but also understanding the ever-changing world.
---
Three months passed...
Baskara finally opened his eyes from a long meditation. His entire spiritual space now felt far deeper and denser. He had successfully completed the Hall Gate Technique, mastered the Soul-Crushing Machete, and reached the final stage of the Padet Jiwa realm. In all that time, he had visited his parents only twice—most of his days were spent immersed in training and reflection.
Now, Baskara had turned eight years old.
---
In the grand sitting room of Eyang Pradipa's mansion, a light yet meaningful conversation echoed.
"Grandpa, I'm eight now. I've mastered some techniques. I want to try them out… but I don't know who to fight…" said Baskara, a little puzzled but brimming with enthusiasm.
Eyang Pradipa chuckled.
"In that case, go to the ancestral lands. There are many spiritual beasts there. But remember, stay near the outer areas. Don't venture too deep. Or… shall I accompany you?"
Baskara quickly shook his head.
"No need, Grandpa. Just trust me, hehe."
Eyang Pradipa nodded and handed him a small silver bell.
"Here. Take this. If you're in danger, channel a bit of spiritual power into it. I'll come."
"Got it, Grandpa!" Baskara replied confidently before taking his leave.
---
Using the Silent Step technique, Baskara shot forward unseen by anyone. His destination: the ancestral lands located east of the family compound.
Upon arrival, he was greeted by a dense forest with towering ancient trees. He leapt onto a branch, scanning the area from above, and his eyes caught sight of an ancient temple hidden behind a thin mist.
"That's... the ancestral tomb…" he murmured softly.
"One day… I'll go there," he added, clenching his small fists.
But before he could move, a pitch-black spiritual buffalo with downward-curving horns burst from the bushes, its glowing red eyes charging straight at him.
Baskara only shifted slightly—causing the beast to miss and crash into a massive tree, toppling it. In a flash, the boy leapt and landed a fierce kick to the beast's temple. A groan of pain echoed.
"Tch, too weak," Baskara muttered flatly.
"Until something can withstand my Flame Palm, I'm not going home."
---
He ventured deeper, searching for a worthy opponent. Knowledge of spiritual beasts, medicinal plants, and potential treasure sites was already ingrained in his mind—direct teachings from Eyang Pradipa.
Yet until late afternoon, not a single worthy challenger appeared. By the edge of a serene lake, he sat under a tree, enjoying the breeze while watching the shimmering water.
"Meh… boring," he whispered.
After a long sigh, he decided to return before his grandfather started to worry.
---
The next morning…
The atmosphere was calm. In the warm, luxurious dining room, the scent of roasted meat and fresh vegetables filled the air. At the grand table sat only two people: Baskara and Eyang Pradipa.
Baskara bit into a piece of game meat he'd hunted himself from the ancestral lands, chewing slowly before speaking up:
"Grandpa… I think I want to learn alchemy too."
Eyang Pradipa glanced at him, his face as calm as ever.
"Oh? Why not. Go ahead."
He then continued eating, as if nothing unusual had been said. But in his mind, he had long anticipated this moment.
Baskara… this child was simply suited for everything.
Martial arts, alchemy, calligraphy, even formation arts—fields that typically took spiritual experts years to grasp—he absorbed all the foundational and advanced theories as if they had been etched into his soul since birth.
In the past, Eyang Pradipa hadn't directly guided Baskara into alchemy or formations. He merely observed… waited… and now it was clear—
That hunger had finally awakened.