A Few Months Later…
Inside a quiet meditation chamber, only the sound of calm breathing and the faint glow of Astadi Candika—set before Baskara—could be felt. Time passed—days turned into weeks, and weeks into months—as Baskara confined himself to spiritual silence. Not to escape the world, but to delve deeper into his own soul… and into the relic temple itself.
At first, he only understood the rough shape of Astadi Candika's abilities. But as time passed and his meditation deepened, its hidden potentials began to unfold one by one—like secret layers of ancestral soul etched into eternal stone.
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1. Ancestral Soul Connection
Baskara realized that the spiritual architecture of Astadi Candika was linked to the echoes of his ancestors. Every carving, every corner of the structure, was a node of energy holding memory, teachings, and their lingering spirit. Sitting at the temple's center, he could communicate with their conscious remnants—not just through conversation, but through shared emotion and understanding.
> "We were never truly gone, grandson... we live on within stone and prayer."
– The faint voice of Ancestor Nala, heard during his 108th meditation.
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2. Waskita Mode: Eyes of Dimensional Architecture
By the second month, Baskara discovered a subtler function—the ability to see the energy threads of space and time through the "eyes" of the temple. This was not ordinary vision, but a kind of spiritual mapping of karma flow and dimensional cracks.
With it, Baskara could:
Detect rifts in dimensions for short-range teleportation.
Read residual power left at a location (like battle traces or curses).
Sense the strength of an area without approaching.
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3. Soul Confinement Chamber
In the third month, after deep contemplation beneath the crimson light from the temple's heart, he discovered a special chamber within the relic—a soul-boundary room, a sort of sacred prison. Previously, he knew Astadi could seal enemies, but now he understood that the seal didn't just imprison—it calmed and purified, separating the target from rage, curses, or evil forces.
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4. Spiritual Energy Reserve – The Soul Battery
The most surprising discovery was that the temple could store reserves of spiritual energy, like a massive soul-powered battery. During meditation or when absorbing nature's essence, the temple would record and store the energy within its "belly." If Baskara were ever weakened, he could draw upon this stored power without disturbing the natural balance.
> "Even mountains need time to recharge after erupting."
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As all these insights deepened, so did Baskara's inner peace. He no longer rushed to master everything, for he now understood: every living relic had its own rhythm.
After four months immersed in meditation and profound connection with Astadi Candika, Baskara stepped out of the temple with a light and composed stride. The damp morning air greeted his lungs, refreshing him after months of bonding with silence and inner strength.
Moss-covered ancient trees stood tall, accompanying each of his steps as if welcoming the new guardian of the ancestral land. Sunlight pierced through the canopy, dancing on the forest floor layered with fallen leaves.
Unhurried, Baskara walked along a hidden path known only to true heirs. Occasionally, he bent down—plucking specific leaves, inspecting roots, or carefully harvesting small plants with remarkable precision.
He was gathering ingredients:
Pethak Creeper Roots – Small white roots that, when cleaned and dried, enhance nadi sukma flow.
Kalika Leaves – A rare plant used as a natural dye for protective markings or accessories.
Cengkal Bark Fibers – Tough yet flexible, ideal for crafting spiritual binding cords for charms or amulets.
Waringin Sukma Resin – Sap from a sacred tree, available only during certain seasons, usable as a purifier in small rituals.
Of course, he did all this with utmost care and secrecy. He didn't wish to attract the attention of guardian spirits, ancestral souls, or even outside scouts.
Now and then, he activated his awareness field, scanning the area without disturbing the spiritual currents guarding the land. He knew: the ancestral domain was not a playground—it was sacred ground guarded by more than stone and soil.
With a small pouch full of spiritual materials, Baskara smiled faintly. He was not just a wielder of great power, but a craftsman who understood the value of detail and silence.
He sat cross-legged atop a flat stone, laying out the materials he had gathered over the past few weeks. Before him lay cleaned cengkal fibers, powdered pethak root, and crystalized waringin sukma resin.
Calm and focused, he began weaving the cengkal fibers into a strong, smooth thread. Every knot and tie was made not only with skilled hands but also with silent inner chants. Then, he sprinkled the powdered root over the cord and anointed it with the sacred resin. At that moment, the cord emitted a soft glow—marking the harmony between material and the maker's intent.
Each accessory had its unique form and function:
For his grandfather, Eyang Pradipa: A necklace of three braided strands with a core bead inscribed with protective seals and spirit-strengthening, sealed with a fragment of Astadi Candika's energy.
For his father, Teguh: A bracelet of cengkal cord layered with Kalika leaves, forming seals of fire and calm—useful for maintaining sharp judgment in conflict.
For his cousins: Small charms to hang or carry, each infused with a trace of Baskara's meditative resonance, serving as protection from spiritual disturbances and spying entities.
He wrapped them in black cloth and stored them in a small dimensional pocket sewn behind his robe.