One of the elders sitting beside Pradipa spoke up, his voice low but firm, "Both the university and the monastery will surely allow you to return to your family to handle your responsibilities… However, in critical moments, they will also call on you. They need you—whether it's for your strength, strategy, or your presence as a symbol."
Elder Kirandi nodded slightly and added, "That's right. Each has its strengths. The university excels in access to technology, political networks, and understanding governance systems. But… the monastery preserves depth of feeling, tranquility of the soul, and spiritual techniques that are rarely found elsewhere."
They all looked at Baskara, as if waiting for his reaction.
Finally, Eyang Pradipa ended the brief discussion with a voice both firm and gentle, "Of course, it is all your choice, my child. We will not force you. But whatever decision you make, make sure it comes from your heart, not merely ambition or escape."
Tirta turned to her son, her smile calm but full of hope. Teguh was silent, but his gaze was sharp—he had complete faith in Baskara's decision.
The room fell silent again, leaving only the soft sound of wind flowing through the open hall windows.
After a moment, Baskara spoke in a calm but firm tone, "Thank you to all the elders and grandfather for thinking of me and my future. But for now, I want to take some time to consider it first. Certainly, if in the future I decide to take that path, I will deeply appreciate all your recommendations."
The elders exchanged glances, and Eyang Pradipa gave a slight smile before responding, "That's right, child. Decisions like these cannot be made hastily. Even someone with extraordinary talent, if they enter the wrong place, it could bring disaster instead of blessings. With your talent as it is, I wouldn't be surprised if someday someone tries to take advantage of you."
Eyang Pradipa slowly rose from his seat, his steps steady, then looked at Baskara as if to make sure his words sank in deeply.
"The truth is, in any era… even if a country, a martial arts university, or a great monastery stands on laws and noble principles… in the face of absolute power, all those mean nothing."
The room suddenly fell silent. Those words were like a slap of reality that could not be avoided, even by those who had been pillars of the family for years.
Elder Kirandi added in a softer tone, "But both, the monastery and the martial arts university, will surely allow you to return to your family if there is an important matter. They will also need your help someday, especially in difficult times."
"Yes, that's right," added Elder Cakra Dara. "Each place has its strengths and weaknesses. The monastery emphasizes inner peace, purification of mind and soul, and meditation contemplation. While the martial arts university tends to train warriors or leaders assigned directly by the government; even in treasure hunts, they often intervene."
"But in the end, it's up to you, child," said Eyang Pradipa, closing with a firm yet warm voice. "You don't have to rush. What matters is whichever path you choose, make sure it leads you to growth… not destruction."
Baskara only nodded slowly, bowing respectfully to all the elders. In his heart, he knew—this decision would affect not only himself… but the future of many others.
Tirta held her son's hand tightly. Behind her calm eyes was a deep pride. Her child had grown… not only strong but wise as well.
After Baskara conveyed his decision to postpone joining the monastery or the martial arts university, the elders finally dispersed. One by one, they returned to their residences, leaving the decision entirely to the young man who had walked a solitary path in meditation.
Baskara had deliberately delayed the decision. Not merely because of doubt, but because his nature disliked crowds and restrictive rules. He had grown up in a family environment that gave him freedom to go wherever he pleased, without binding limits. If he later chose that path, he might first seek guidance from Ancestor Nala.
---
At their small family residence, the atmosphere was much warmer. Baskara sat relaxed with Teguh and Tirta, his parents who had always been his refuge and source of strength. They talked about the three years Baskara disappeared in meditation, and how he managed to reach the Realm of Soul Perfection at such a young age.
"My child… I am very impressed with your talent," said Teguh, his eyes shining. "You are only fifteen, yet have advanced so far. Even I have not been able to match that…"
Baskara immediately puffed out his chest like a child who had just won a contest.
"Hahaha! Of course, Father!" he replied loudly and confidently. "Who else could I be? Obviously talented! This is a small matter for me… like drinking water! Hahaha!"
Teguh could only sigh, a mixture of joy and bitterness seeing his son suddenly so cocky.
Tirta, sitting beside them, smiled amused. "Enough, son. Don't mock your father. Even though he isn't as talented as you, he tries his best."
Teguh quickly turned with a competitive expression. "Oh, you're no different, Tir. Stuck in the same place, no progress at all."
Tirta gave a small glare, her face flushed from amusement and irritation. "What did you say?! I'm busy taking care of the family, unlike you who can train at will!"
Soon after, the sound of the doorbell came from outside. Ding dong...
The conversation in the living room stopped immediately. Tirta quickly stood and walked to the door.
"Hello, Auntie! How are you?" greeted a cheerful girl. Her face was bright. She was Dinda, Baskara's cousin and a girl who hadn't returned home for a long time.
"Oh, Dinda! So you're back!" Tirta said happily. "When did you come home, dear? Come in quickly." Then she leaned close and whispered softly in Dinda's ear, "Baskara is inside, you know."