Morning in Rainbow Valley Village felt vastly different from mornings on Mount Tarakan. Instead of the thunderous roar of waterfalls and the fierce mountain wind, Wira woke to the bustling cacophony of crowing chickens, mooing cows, and the faint murmur of conversation from Aunt Suri's kitchen. He sprang from the simple wooden cot, feeling refreshed despite his sleep not being as deep as it was in his familiar stone cave.
"Second lesson, Wira," Laksmi already stood at the doorway, watching Wira with an amused smile. She had already bathed and looked much tidier in clean clothes lent by Aunt Suri. "In the human world, we don't just leap out of bed. There are morning customs."
Wira furrowed his brow. "Customs? Like what?" He imagined some complex sequence of stretches or breathing exercises.
"Like… washing your face, then having breakfast together, and then helping with household chores," Laksmi explained, fetching a bucket of water from the small well behind the house. "And, you need to bathe. You smell."
Wira sniffed his own arm. "Smell? This is the scent of nature, Laksmi. It's fragrant." He genuinely thought it was a pleasant, earthy aroma, accustomed to the wild scents of the mountain.
Laksmi simply shook her head. She handed Wira a clean cloth. "Bathe at the well over there. Don't use your strange techniques. And don't strip naked in public."
Wira nodded, still somewhat bewildered. He followed Laksmi to the well, observing how the girl deftly drew water and poured it over herself. He mimicked her, though his movements were a little stiff, unaccustomed to such controlled motions. The cold well water felt refreshing on his skin, vastly different from the bruising chill of the waterfall that hammered his body during training. He noticed how the water slid off Laksmi's skin differently, how her movements were more fluid and purposeful for cleanliness, not just survival. It was another small piece of the human puzzle, slowly clicking into place.
After bathing and changing into the simple cotton clothes lent by Aunt Suri—Wira found the fabric strange against his skin compared to his usual black attire—they gathered in the small kitchen for breakfast. Aunt Suri had prepared warm corn porridge and sweet tea. Ayu, the girl who had been drawing water yesterday, smiled kindly at Wira.
"Eat plenty, Young Wira," Aunt Suri said in a friendly tone, though her eyes still held traces of sadness. "Thank goodness you both are safe."
Wira nodded, then looked at his bowl. He hesitated for a moment. "Can I… eat all of this?" he asked, glancing at Laksmi.
Laksmi suppressed a laugh. "Yes, Wira. This is for you. But eat slowly."
Wira began to eat, tasting the corn porridge whose flavor was vastly different from cassava or hunted meat. There was a sweet, savory taste and a soft texture that was pleasant on his tongue. "This is delicious, Auntie!" he exclaimed honestly, making Aunt Suri smile faintly. He savored each mouthful, a new sensory experience that was both comforting and foreign. It wasn't just sustenance; it was an invitation into this new world, a taste of human kindness.
While eating, Laksmi began to recount what had happened last night to Aunt Suri. Aunt Suri listened intently, occasionally sighing with concern.
"So, you truly don't know what they were looking for?" Aunt Suri asked Laksmi. "And this pendant… do you recognize it?" Aunt Suri held the jade pendant on Laksmi's neck, examining its faint, intricate symbols. "I've never seen carvings like this before in our village."
Laksmi shook her head. "No, Auntie. This pendant has always been with me since I was a child. My parents never told me anything about it."
Wira, who had been busy eating, chimed in. "My grandpa said, if a pendant is strange, it must have a secret. Usually, ultimate techniques are hidden in strange objects."
Laksmi and Aunt Suri exchanged glances, a little startled by Wira's comment.
"This isn't a technique, Wira," Laksmi said. "This… could be big trouble."
After breakfast, Wira helped Ayu draw water and chop firewood. Wira performed all these tasks with astonishing ease, too easily. Lifting a full bucket of water felt as light as a feather, and the axe in his hand split large logs with a single, effortless swing. Ayu gaped at Wira's unusual strength, but Wira himself remained oblivious. To him, it was simply helping out, just as he used to do for his grandpa. He noticed the small girl struggling with the axe and offered to help, his actions purely instinctive, driven by the desire to alleviate burdens, much like when he'd help his grandpa carry heavy game back to their cave. He didn't understand the gasp that escaped Ayu's lips, or the sudden wide-eyed stares from other villagers passing by. To Wira, it was merely the efficient application of force, a basic skill for survival and assistance.
Meanwhile, Laksmi and Aunt Suri sat on the veranda.
"Laksmi, are you sure that young man can be trusted?" Aunt Suri whispered, still a little worried. "His strength… it's unnatural. And his innocence… it could be a disguise."
Laksmi sighed. "He saved my life, Auntie. And I'm sure his innocence is real. He truly knows nothing about the outside world. He only lived with his grandpa on Mount Tarakan. He doesn't even know the difference between men and women, let alone about money or property." Laksmi then recounted how Wira had mistaken her chest for 'muscles' and the concept of 'bride' for a 'technique'. Aunt Suri stifled a laugh, but also looked visibly distressed.
"Mount Tarakan? I've heard of it. They say it's a forbidden mountain, very remote, and no one dares to approach it because it's inhabited by fierce beasts and mysterious energies," Aunt Suri said, her face turning serious. "His grandpa must be no ordinary person. And he… that power called Sura, Laksmi?"
Laksmi shook her head. "He says its name is Sura, Auntie. I've never heard of it. But his fighting style, his energy… it's far beyond ordinary Laksa martial artists. I don't know if it's good or bad, but it's incredibly powerful and terrifying."
Suddenly, from the direction of the main village road, sounds of commotion erupted. Several villagers ran in panic.
"The assassins! They're back!" someone shrieked.
Wira, who was helping Ayu chop wood, immediately stopped his movements. His keen senses caught the familiar sounds of approaching horses and clinking metal. His innocent expression abruptly shifted to one of grim seriousness.
"Laksmi," Wira called, his voice low yet firm. "They're coming."
Laksmi and Aunt Suri rushed out. At the end of the road, a group of armed men on horseback appeared. They wore black clothes with crescent moon symbols on their chests—the Night Shadow Sect. This time their numbers were greater, around twenty men, led by a large man with a thick beard and sharp eyes. A strong Laksa aura radiated from his body, chilling the air.
"That girl! Laksmi Sari! Hand over the key to destruction!" the bearded man roared, his voice echoing through the village. "And anyone who protects her will face the wrath of the Night Shadow Sect!"
The other villagers hid behind houses or ran in terror. Tension enveloped Rainbow Valley Village. Aunt Suri pulled Laksmi behind Wira, her body trembling.
"Wira…" Laksmi whispered, her voice quivering. "They're too many."
Wira stepped forward, letting Laksmi stay behind his back. His innocent eyes now turned cold, emanating a faint, pulsing Sura. He observed the approaching men, their aggressive stance, the way their Laksa energy seemed to ripple the air. It was different from the straightforward threats of wild animals; this was human malice, and it felt heavier, more complex.
"You disturbed our meal yesterday," Wira said calmly, his voice clear amidst the rising tension. "And now you disturb the peace of this village. This is impolite."
The bearded man sneered. "Insolent mountain brat. You think you can stop us? Move aside, or you'll die before the girl!" The Laksa aura from the man intensified, vibrating the ground.
Wira just stood still, observing. This was a new lesson about humans: sometimes, they couldn't be reasoned with. And sometimes, they needed to be taught a lesson in a different way. Behind him, Laksmi stared at Wira's back, confused and terrified. She knew Wira's strength was extraordinary, but fighting twenty organized Laksa martial artists? This would be Wira's first true battle in the human village, a test of his power against the brutal realities of the martial world.