Now, every house in Wanasura Village was being devoured by flames. The villagers screamed for help as their homes burned, while others cried out in agony as they were cut down by blades, dying where they stood.
At first, the people thought the Bhayangkara knights had come to save them.
But shock turned into horror when those very knights began slaughtering them—cutting down anyone they passed as they rode through the village.
Sancaka pulled his horse to a halt the moment he reached the center of the village.
His mind spiraled into chaos.
All around him, Bhayangkara knights were killing civilians. He also saw knights of Wanasura clashing swords against them. Many of his fellow knights had already fallen, and the villagers of Demak were dying one by one.
Lost in the overwhelming scene, Sancaka failed to notice an attack coming from behind.
A blade struck his armor—but fortunately, the steel was thick enough to withstand the blow, and the attacker's strength was not enough to break through.
Sancaka turned.
A knight stood beside his horse—and charged again.
Sancaka reacted quickly. He lifted his right leg and dropped off the horse in one swift motion. The incoming strike missed him—and instead struck the horse.
The animal screamed in pain and bolted forward.
With only one foot touching the ground, Sancaka lost balance and fell. The horse fled, leaving him behind.
Still lying on the ground, Sancaka drew his sword and raised it before his face.
Clang!
Steel met steel.
He blocked the incoming strike.
From the ground, he pushed his blade upward, forcing his opponent's weapon toward the sky.
In that opening, Sancaka rose and shoved the enemy down to the ground. He dropped to his knees on top of him, pinning him, and pressed his sword against the knight's throat.
"You're Bhayangkara knights… aren't you?" Sancaka demanded.
"Yes," the knight replied. "We were ordered to destroy this village."
Suddenly, the knight surged with strength, throwing Sancaka off. Both of them quickly rose to their feet.
They clashed again.
Swords collided in rapid succession.
Sancaka thoughts raced.
I have to kill him… or I'll die.
But his hands hesitated.
He had never killed before.
His hands refused to be stained with blood.
"Why is Batavia attacking us? Who gave the order?" Sancaka shouted.
The enemy lunged again.
Steel crashed once more.
"We were ordered by the Dharma… to attack Wanasura Village."
"That's impossible!"
Another clash.
"The Heroes gave the command. They want Demak destroyed because you are hiding the bloodstones… and refused to hand them over."
The enemy raised his sword and kicked Sancaka to the ground, preparing to deliver the final strike—
But before the blade could fall—
A force struck him from the side.
The enemy was thrown off balance—and in the next instant, his head was severed.
Sancaka senior stood behind him.
He had saved him.
"Get up! Raise your weapon! We must protect the village—kill anyone who tries to destroy it—!"
Before he could finish—
A blade pierced through his chest from behind.
It went straight through.
Blood burst from his chest and mouth.
The senior collapsed lifeless onto the ground.
Sancaka staggered back, eyes wide.
Another attacker stood before him.
He quickly dodged, grabbing his fallen sword. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and thrust.
This time—he was faster.
The blade pierced the enemy's stomach.
The knight clutched the wound, blood spilling from his mouth.
Drops of blood splattered onto Sancaka's hand—still gripping the sword.
Sancaka froze.
He hadn't expected this.
He hadn't expected to kill someone—
On his very first day.
He closed his eyes.
His thoughts spiraled, emotions crashing into one another.
Then—
Slowly—
He steadied himself.
When he opened his eyes again, resolve filled them.
He pulled the sword free from the corpse, letting the body fall lifeless to the ground.
Around him, nothing had changed.
Flames still consumed the village.
People still ran in terror.
Sancaka didn't know how to save them all.
The villagers were scattered, fleeing in every direction. The knights of the village were overwhelmed.
There was only one thing he could do.
Protect his family.
Sancaka stood and ran toward a riderless horse. He grabbed the saddle, leapt up, and mounted it in one swift motion.
The horse was still panicking, running wildly.
Sancaka pulled the reins tightly, forcing it under control. Once it slowed, he pressed his legs against its sides, urging it forward, guiding its direction.
He rode straight toward his home.
Ignoring the flames.
Ignoring the chaos.
At times, he swung his sword to deflect incoming attacks.
As soon as he reached his house, Sancaka dismounted and rushed inside.
The building was engulfed in fire.
Inside, he could hear voices.
"Kakak! I'm here with Mom!" Nana's voice echoed through the smoke.
Sancaka waved his hand, clearing the thick smoke clouding his vision.
Then he saw them.
His mother.
And Nana.
Trapped behind a collapsed wooden beam.
Sancaka rushed forward, trying to clear the obstruction.
"Sancaka, be careful! There's fire everywhere!" his mother cried in fear.
Sancaka scanned the room.
Then he saw it—
A bucket of water.
The same bucket his mother always used to wash vegetables.
He grabbed it—it was heavy—and threw the water onto the burning wood blocking their path.
The flames hissed and died down.
Sancaka drew his sword again and cut through the charred debris.
Then—
He reached for them.
Pulled them close.
And carried them out of the burning house.
Once outside, they collapsed in front of the blazing remains of their home, gasping for clean air.
Their breaths came in ragged bursts, followed by coughing from the smoke they had inhaled.
Sancaka bent forward, hands on his knees, breathing heavily—checking himself.
He was still alive.
Only minor cuts and bruises.
He looked around.
The village was still burning.
Nothing had changed.
Sancaka approached his mother and Nana.
Without hesitation, he pulled them into an embrace.
"Sancaka… my son… I'm so glad you're alive," his mother cried, holding him tightly.
Then she pulled away slightly, looking around in fear.
"Sancaka… why is our village burning?"
"Our village is under attack," he answered.
"Attacked? By who?" she asked.
Nana added, her voice trembling:
"Big brother… where's Father? Is he okay?"
Sancaka hesitated.
He didn't know which question to answer first.
Then—
He heard it.
The sound of approaching hooves.
Sancaka turned toward it.
And in that instant—
A face from five years ago resurfaced in his memory.