In a martial arts academy hall grandly built like a granite temple, a spacious training arena stretched out for the disciples. Its stone walls were adorned with elegant geometric carvings, some forming tall window frames reaching almost toward the ceiling. In every gap of those window frames hung dark purple banners bearing the emblem of three bamboo stalks through which a stream of water flowed, fluttering gently in the breeze sneaking in from outside. Several banners and decorations regarding the Panandha year also embellished various corners.
The atmosphere in the hall grew quiet after the training session ended. Some disciples were still tidying up their equipment, while others chatted lightly before leaving the room. Wooden swords, training spears, rattan shields, and various martial arts gear lay scattered across several corners of the arena, remaining as the aftermath of the bustling practice that had just concluded.
His footsteps echoing through the training hall were steady and unhurried. His tall, broad-shouldered, and sturdy frame was clad in a neat dark purple academy vest without a single misplaced crease. His buzz cut further accentuated a firm jawline, while his gaze remained fixed straight ahead, cold yet devoid of arrogance. He did not need to raise his voice or spread threats; his mere presence was enough to gradually quiet the disciples' conversations.
Several passing disciples instinctively stepped aside to clear the way, some bowing their heads as a sign of respect. His peers greeted him briefly, and he only responded with a small nod or a low, flat-toned greeting. It was not because he was haughty, but simply due to his demeanor: quiet, rigid, and always maintaining his composure. At the Manunggal Jagad Academy in Ampringan, almost everyone knew him as a young man who rarely smiled, but even harder to sway from the principles he believed in.
His long, strong fingers gripped the handle of a spear lying on the floor. He picked up three spears from among the scattered training gear and carried them with steady steps toward the storage rack.
In front of him, three young men who had just finished training were chatting, one of them shirtless. Seeing Teges pass by, they stopped talking.
"Teges," greeted one of them while shaking his hand. He offered a faint smile. "The Panandha year has begun today. Aren't you wandering?"
"I haven't thought about it yet; there are still duties I haven't finished..."
The shirtless youth in front of him interjected, "Did you hear about Sakadian yesterday?"
Teges shook his head slowly.
The young man let out a long breath, leaning his upper body slightly forward. "Turns out someone used it... to save his village from a landslide."
Teges fell silent. His gaze shifted from one face to another.
"And then?" he asked briefly.
The young man raised his hand, opening his palm. "The law still takes its course."
Teges's jaw tightened. "The Alliance sentenced him to death?"
The three youths looked at each other. Their faces betrayed disappointment and resignation before finally nodding slowly.
"Yes."
Teges's grip on the spears tightened. "...Are you sure?"
"The news just reached the academy this morning."
Teges raised his face for a moment. He took a deep breath, as if trying to collect his thoughts. Moments later, his gaze returned to them.
One of his friends looked at Teges with a steadfast gaze, though unable to conceal a sense of concern.
"Teges... according to the news we received, that person is still young."
He frowned. "An academy disciple?"
The youth shook his head slowly. "No. He's just a courier from Kawi Village."
For a moment, there was no sound. Teges lowered his gaze, as if digesting every word he had just heard.
"So..." His face slowly lifted, "...they actually did it."
"That's the reality of it," his friend replied with a bitter smile. "I've always seen the Alliance as a symbol of authority and firmness. But only now do I realize... they can be that harsh."
"No leniency?" Teges's voice sounded heavy. "Even though it was used to save lives?"
His friend only shook his head. "None." The youth beside him bowed his head. "He was already executed."
Silence enveloped the hall for a moment. The youth who bowed his head was followed by the others, lost in a shared grief. Teges stepped closer. The hand that had been holding the three spears shifted them to one side, and both his arms slowly opened. Without a word, he embraced all three of his friends at once.
The embrace was immediately returned. No one said anything. They simply held each other tightly in silence with bowed heads, as if paying respects to someone they had never even met, yet who had lost his life because of a law they all knew.
Teges released the embrace. With a heavy heart, he walked toward the rack behind his friends.
"I once questioned this law to an Alliance representative," Teges murmured, shifting his gaze forward to stare at the weapon racks. "I hoped the answer would merely be theoretical... turns out they are truly capable of carrying it out."
The three youths behind him remained silent.
Teges lifted and placed the spears into the display rack, then turned around.
He looked at his three friends. "Until later."
Without waiting for a reply, he walked away, leaving his three friends behind.
Teges walked through the academy that had stood for hundreds of years. His steps halted when the sole of his sandal touched the floor of the teachers' chamber.
The room was entirely built of granite stone, filled with neatly and elegantly carved geometric patterns. Several academy banners hung in the corners of the room, while clumps of dwarf bamboo in stone pots adorned the tranquil atmosphere. Lantern light glowed warmly from the walls, illuminating every corner without leaving a gloomy impression.
Some teachers were busy behind their respective desks. Teges's arrival caused some of them to raise their heads and turn around.
"Is it true... that the Alliance sentenced a young man to death for using an heirloom to save his villagers?" Teges stepped forward firmly.
An elderly, thin-bodied teacher with a white beard and a dark purple beskap immediately rose. His cane tapped softly on the floor with every step he took toward Teges.
"It is true," he answered calmly. "Some people still do not understand that in order to protect many lives, sometimes one life must be sacrificed."
Teges fell silent. His jaw tightened.
The elderly teacher patted his disciple's arm gently.
"Understanding and knowledge will help you see this event more completely, without hastily blaming the Alliance, which has long fought to uphold noble laws."
His age-lined gaze met Teges's eyes, which held both regret and anger.
"Trust will help you break free from the assumption that everything appearing as goodness must always be justified. Because if left unchecked, that small crack can become a path for darkness to spread once more."
Teges's body stiffened. He looked at his teacher for a moment, then shifted his gaze to the other teachers who were watching him as well.
"What trust..." his voice began to rise, "...can justify killing someone who saved the villagers?"
The room suddenly fell silent, everyone stunned as they watched him.
A younger teacher stepped forward. His hair was shoulder-length, his head wrapped in a blangkon, while his neat beskap was adorned with several beads bearing the academy's emblem.
"We understand how you feel, Teges. We all know this event is shocking. That person used an heirloom to save many people."
He paused before continuing.
"But no matter how small the crack allowed in the law, events like this will repeat themselves. And along with it, the great war that once destroyed the world could also repeat."
The teacher looked at Teges without looking away for even a second.
"Do not just look at what happened today. Try to see what will happen if the law begins making exceptions."
Teges met that gaze.
"If the law forces a good person to die..." he said heavily, "...what are we actually protecting?"
The elderly teacher's cane tapped the floor once more. He walked until he stood right in front of Teges.
"We are protecting the citizens..." he said firmly. "...The people." "No." Teges's voice remained heavy. "That young man was part of the people too."
The room fell silent once more, as if everyone listening began to think and weigh the matter over again.
The elderly teacher placed his palm over his chest, stroking it gently. "And that is why this law exists."
"Because one person used an heirloom to save a village?" Teges's gaze was blank, staring at the ceiling.
"Because one exception will give birth to the next exception." The elderly teacher took another step, his body now facing all the other teachers whose activities had stopped.
Teges shook his head slowly. "If so, this law punishes intent, not action."
"No." The white-bearded teacher turned back to look at Teges, who still stood firm and resilient, his gaze locked into his eyes. "This law prevents the future."
"How is that different from punishing someone before they do wrong?" Teges retorted, his voice rising.
The younger teacher stepped forward a pace. "You only see Randu. We see thousands of Randus after him."
Teges's brows furrowed upon hearing that name.
"If the Alliance lets one person go because of noble motives, tomorrow someone will claim to have killed to save their family. The day after, someone will take up an heirloom to protect their hometown. Next year, someone will claim to fight for their country. Everyone will feel they are right."
"But Randu was right!" he insisted.
"Yes." The teacher nodded. "And precisely because he was right, this law becomes so painful."
Teges clenched his jaw.
"Then... this law has lost its justice," he replied.
The elderly teacher closed his eyes for a moment. "No."
"Then what?" "The law sometimes forces us to sacrifice justice for one person... to prevent injustice for thousands of people."
Teges's gaze did not waver.
"If one day I am in Randu's place..." He paused for a moment. "...I would still save them."
No one answered.
The elderly teacher looked at the disciple he had long known to hold most steadfastly to his principles.
"And if that day comes..." his voice was soft, "...the Alliance will hand down the same punishment to you."
Silence filled the room once again, leaving behind the seeds of a clash between human values and belief.
Teges moved. He turned his body around and began walking toward the exit of the room.
His right hand swept up a potted bamboo bonsai displayed on a stand beside the door. Swiftly and forcefully, he smashed the pot onto the floor.
"I'm leaving this place!"
All the teachers remained silent, some feeling the pain, others letting him go.
One of his teachers immediately drafted a letter upon learning of the incident. Secretly, the letter was addressed to someone living near the waterfall area.
His teacher hoped that those who received the letter would quickly formulate a plan.