After giving the handmade gifts to his grandfather and father, Baskara saved the rest for his cousins. He hadn't given them out just yet—perhaps later, when he had a chance to meet them in person. After that, he returned to the ancestral land and entered the temple where he usually meditated.
This time, the purpose of his meditation was no longer just to understand the heirloom, but to ascend to a higher spiritual realm.
Months passed. At the age of eleven, Baskara finally managed to surpass his own limits and ascend to the Middle Stage of the Jagat Sukma realm. A great leap for a child walking without a mentor, armed only with perseverance and the silent voice within his soul.
Upon reaching the peak of his meditation, Baskara's body was enveloped in a soft light flowing from within himself. The soul aura that was once dim now pulsed strongly—stable, profound, and resembling the cycles of nature. His breath was calm, but a hint of power radiated from his face, impossible to hide.
Within his consciousness, the soul space that was once dark and full of fog now opened wide like a morning sky. Pillars of light stood around him, marking the stability and newfound power he had achieved. The five-colored stone within him now glowed more brightly, with a dominant hue of golden-red symbolizing the element of fire and the purity of his soul.
"This isn't just power… it's serenity. I'm beginning to understand it," he whispered softly, realizing that true strength does not come from anger or ambition, but from the clarity of a continuously refined heart.
Astadi Candika also responded. Inside the small heirloom, the spiritual space known as the Mandala Atma pulsed more strongly, signifying that the soul's boundary chamber had expanded. It was now capable of performing three vital functions:
1. Soul Cleansing – Purifying souls tainted or disturbed by dark energies so they could return to their original nature.
2. Deep Healing – If a soul was wounded due to spiritual trauma or inner conflict, this space could slowly help restore it.
3. Sealing Evil Spirits – With the owner's permission, this chamber could trap dark souls to prevent them from spreading or disrupting the balance of the outside world.
All of this was not merely protective strength, but also a force of balance. Baskara knew this was not just a gift—it was a responsibility from his ancestors, a long path toward a deeper understanding of power and duty.
"It seems Astadi Candika really is bound to my soul…" Baskara muttered slowly, sitting cross-legged in the quiet temple. His gaze was deep, piercing the walls of space and time as if peering into his own being.
"When I ascended, Astadi Candika reacted too… almost as if unlocking new mysteries within." He inhaled deeply. A curiosity stirred within him, irresistible. The deeper he delved into the heirloom, the stronger the resonance he felt.
Even his grandfather knew little about the heirloom—he had never even attempted to master it. But when the ancestor Nala gave it directly to Baskara, everything unfolded so naturally… as if the heirloom had been waiting for him all along.
He was now exactly eleven years old. Since the age of seven, he had entered the deep world of meditation—a world not usually treaded by children his age. Out there, kids his age were just beginning basic physical training, attending school, and learning general knowledge.
Meanwhile, in the city of Tirta Negara—riddled with prolonged conflict—a little girl sat pensively by the window of a dormitory. Her eyes gazed at the orange-hued twilight sky. Her face held a deep longing, and the quiet voice of her heart softly called out.
"I want to go home… Brother, where are you really?"
That was Dinda, Baskara's younger sister who hadn't seen him in a long time. Her heart was weighed down by a yearning she couldn't express. The city's turmoil made it difficult for her family to visit, let alone take her home.
Footsteps approached from behind. A young woman gently touched her shoulder.
"Din, it's okay… This conflict will end soon. We'll all be able to go home."
Her roommate also missed her family. They were the same age—eleven—but their shared longing made them feel more mature than they should be.
Dinda nodded softly.
"Yeah, I hope so…" she replied in a hushed tone.
The battle began like lightning ripping through the sky. In an instant, the two patriarchs clashed in the air, their swords ablaze like hellfire. The first clash of their blades unleashed a shockwave so powerful it deafened the ears and created a vacuum. The resulting explosion shattered the sky, forming swirling dark clouds around them.
Yet that was only the beginning. As they disappeared and reappeared, both moved with such speed it nearly defied the eye. In a flash, the energy they unleashed shot downward, striking the ground and triggering a minor earthquake beneath the city of Tritanegara. Skyscrapers trembled, some cracking at their foundations, and roads split open as if ready to devour everything above them.
The blast diverted the course of the river running through the city, causing its waters to rise unnaturally, destroying bridges and sweeping away stalls along the banks. Dust and debris were hurled hundreds of miles from the battle's epicenter. Even distant forests began to burn, sending flames and smoke skyward, darkening the heavens.
As they moved to higher ground, the air around them split with sharp hissing sounds. Each sword strike left behind massive explosions, shattering boulders into flying shards. Not only forests and buildings were affected— even the sky itself appeared torn, with dark clouds swirling into a giant vortex that unleashed fierce winds, tearing through everything in its path.
Their overwhelming power brought about massive changes to the surrounding cosmos. As they fought further, reaching the foot of Mount Loka Geni, the energy shockwaves tore the earth open, creating deep, vast chasms. The mountain began to tremble, as if reacting to the battle above. A single surge of energy shattered the great stones nearby, triggering landslides down its slopes. In a moment, the once-calm Mount Loka Geni now quaked with unimaginable force.
The mental and physical might of these two patriarchs seemed to transcend the limits of the natural world. Once they reached the mountain's summit, the final blast of their clash split the sky even further, creating a temporal and spatial rift. Massive lightning roared around them, its blinding flashes illuminating the sky, while below, the area surrounding Mount Loka Geni was engulfed in thick smoke and roaring fire.
Above, the two figures fought with everything they had—no more words were spoken, only the clash of swords and the rumble of unleashed energy remained. What was once a peaceful mountaintop had now become a vast field of devastation.