Episodes 148. Anitya

The atmosphere suddenly changed to something unexpected.

At first, I thought this meeting would be awkward, but when I met him again...

Whack!

I reflexively kicked his head until it shattered.

"Long time no see, Brother Nazrul! How have you been?" I said while continuing to kick him. "Ah, you must be fine, right? Your Anitya will surely protect you!"

After a few seconds, his shattered head reformed as before. He grinned at my angry expression, showing no emotion that matched what I was doing.

"Done with the head-kicking show?!" He shouted with laughter. "Aren't you here to ask me something?!"

"More or less, but that doesn't mean you'll tell me, right?"

Bam!

I sent another kick flying towards his stomach.

"Don't worry, even if you punch a hole in my stomach, I'll tell you. This is just part of the agreement..."

Oh, truly unexpected.

"This is too easy!" I said as I sent another kick flying towards his stomach.

"Is this all you want?"

Sttt!

Hearing those words, I immediately stopped my kick.

The kick stopped just 1 cm in front of his stomach.

I suddenly remembered something.

...#There is Nothing Real within Me#...

I stopped all my fake anger and chose to calm my chaotic mind.

"Tell me! I'm sure you don't want to wait long just to lie."

Seeing that I was influenced by his words, he put on a satisfied and relieved face.

I didn't understand that expression.

He was full of mystery if I had to describe him.

"Alright, I'll tell you everything, but you must underline this. You must listen to this story first!" (Nazrul)

"Get to the point!"

I whispered and tried to torture him using CODE magic. I did this to ensure no time was wasted.

But....

..... Nothing happened.

"Heh (grinning), you want to use CODE magic on the creator- no, the original owner of Anitya Power? Don't make such a joke!"

His words raised a big question in me.

"I already told you, listen to this story first, and you will finally understand everything. About how to stop death... About how to find love... About many things... Especially, about how to stop the Prince Project power..."

Hearing that, I made a surprised expression and activated my weapon.

I aimed the weapon at him and then shook it to order him to continue his sentence.

"Alright, so let me tell you everything, everything you need to know... About Pageblug, about Magic, and about Anitya... It all happened 700 years ago...

And so, Nazrul began to tell everything.

....

In the year of thirteen hundred, there dwelt a mage of great renown, revered by the common folk of the land. Unlike the ordinary practitioners of the arcane, who would oft require offerings or sacrifices to wield their spells, this wizard was of a different sort. With naught but the movement of his hands, he could command the very elements, shape forms to his will, bend desires, alter perspectives, and even grant the gift of immortality.

This mage, akin to a god walking amongst mortals, bore his power with humility. He harbored no desire for dominion over the kingdom, though he possessed the might to claim it with ease. In peace did he dwell, content as any other soul. Yet envy is a serpent that slithers in the hearts of men, and false whispers were carried to the king, bringing the mage into frequent strife with the law.

Though he faced many a trial and the threat of grievous punishment, the mage always found a way to elude his captors, even escaping the blade meant for his neck. It was then that his adversaries came to know the limits of his forbearance.

In the fullness of time, the wizard's patience waned, and he turned his formidable power against the kingdom. The king, in his valiant effort to defend his realm, saw his soldiers fall like ants beneath the mage's might. Thus, the king, seeing the futility of further resistance, surrendered his crown and dominion to the wizard.

Proclaiming himself sovereign, the wizard took the name of King Anitya Anjasmara. He wed five women, two of whom were the erstwhile consorts of the king he had vanquished.

In those days, the tales of his fivefold magics spread far and wide. Kings from neighboring lands, hearing of his wondrous abilities, sought audience with him, some in admiration, others in fear. The shadow of dread grew long, for they perceived that this new king possessed the power to lay waste to all of Nusantara and subdue it with little effort. Thus did the fear of King Anitya Anjasmara grow, like a dark cloud upon the horizon.

....

In days long hence, years after the ascension of King Anitya Anjasmara, foreign kingdoms, filled with avarice, beset the lands of Nusantara. The realm governed by the venerable wizard was not spared their onslaught.

The once-mighty King, now aged and frail, found his strength waning. The specter of these invaders cast a shadow upon his heart, for he knew he could no longer muster the vigor to repel them.

He gazed upon his wrinkled palm, a silent testament to his mortal frailty. "Immune to death I may be, yet aging is a cruel tormentor," he mused. Thus, did the King came to the bitter realization that he was, despite his great power, but a mortal man.

Days passed, and the invaders drew near the palace. His soldiers, seeing the King's enfeebled state, implored him to flee, knowing that battle was a hopeless endeavor. Yet the King stood resolute and refused their counsel.

Pointing with a trembling finger, he selected five individuals, though none understood the reasoning behind his choices.

First, he chose his third child, an observer of the natural world.

Second, he chose his general, a warrior unafraid of death.

Third, he chose his aide, a man of notorious mischief and a lover of women.

Fourth, he chose his admiral, a masterful archer.

Fifth, he chose a blacksmith from the village, present by chance.

Those gathered in the throne room were bewildered by the King's selection. But their confusion was dispelled in a moment of dreadful clarity.

Boom!

The King, with a final act of sorcery, caused himself to explode, his organs hurtling towards those he had chosen. His brain went to his child, his heart to the general, his liver to the troublemaker, his eyes to the admiral, and his nerves to the blacksmith.

Stunned and awestruck, the chosen few comprehended the King's intentions. His last words reverberated through the hall, a testament to his final decree.

"The five pure magics shall persist until the world's end. Each of you may wield only one magic; to covet more is to court madness."

"I harbor but one unfulfilled wish: to see all humanity granted the immortality I possess."

"In pondering the visage of my aged hand, I dreamt that if all could share my longevity, the world might become better—or worse. Yet I hold faith in this: someday, though centuries may pass, this dream shall be realized. Whether it ushers in a human hell or paradise, I care not... I seek only proof that humanity can seize its fate and ascend to godlike existence, thereby ending all suffering."

With these words echoing in their minds, the five newfound wielders of magic defended the kingdom. Their combined might repelled the invaders, restoring peace to the land. However, tranquility was fleeting, for human nature is ever fallible.

In less than a month, the admiral, consumed by avarice, slew the troublemaker and seized his seductive power. The admiral, now possessed of dual magics, descended into madness, wreaking havoc throughout the kingdom.

The general, discerning the peril of this double-edged sword, faced the crazed admiral but withheld his hand, knowing that killing him would pass the burden onto himself. Instead, he commanded a soldier to strike down the admiral when his strength ebbed.

As foretold, the soldier inherited the admiral's keen vision but not the seductive charm. A new truth emerged: one could only inherit power from its original source. The King's child, now ruler and wielder of elemental magic, decreed that all who harbored the seductive power must reveal themselves, but years passed without a claimant.

The seductive magic vanished, only to reappear within an unsuspecting villager. Unwilling to disclose his secret, he perished by his own hand, and the charm was discovered only posthumously, as his enchanted women awoke from their spell.

Thus did the magic of seduction become an enigma, its bearer a mystery known only to be a native of Nusantara. The magics continued to pass through the ages, oftentimes as their holders succumbed to old age rather than violence. The wielder of immortality alone persisted through the years.

Over time, the magics became treasures, closely guarded secrets. Until a man named Poniman Domiawan emerged, ensuring their complete erasure from collective memory. He silenced the media and ensured that generations post-2000s would forget the existence of these ancient powers.

....

"The story is finished, as you heard earlier. This is the basis of everything you need to know later."

"By the way, the man named Poniman Domiawan was an important person at that time, maybe Rasyid had seen him on TV but forgot because of the incident." He tried to joke but failed. 

Realizing it, he quickly changed the subject. "Forget that joke, let's get straight to the point. Poniman Domiawan is the husband of Nova Sena..." Saying that, he smiled foolishly.

It seems all this information won't be ending anytime soon.