Wira : The Peerless One from Mount Tarakan

Wira stood motionless beside the old man's body. The scent of dried blood, the charred huts, and the oppressive silence of Old Stone Village seemed to weigh upon his soul. This was a different kind of death—not one brought by age or predator, but by the hands of fellow humans. His innocent aura was now shrouded in a deepening gloom.

"They are so evil," Wira murmured again, this time not a question, but a statement heavy with grim understanding. The Sura in his eyes was no longer subtle; it churned like a tempest in the deep ocean, though he held it in check with immense effort.

Laksmi watched him, her heart aching. She knew Wira was grappling with the darkest side of the human world. "They… they are like that, Wira," she said softly, finding no words to comfort him. She noted the profound effect this sight had on him.

Suddenly, Wira knelt beside the old man. He gently raised the cold, stiff hand, then with an incredibly careful movement, closed the man's eyes. Laksmi saw a faint, silvery-blue aura pulse from Wira's fingers, briefly enveloping the lifeless form.

"Grandpa said every soul should return to nature in peace," Wira whispered. "May you rest in peace, Old Man." After that, he rose, surveying the ruins of the village.

"We can't leave them like this," Wira stated, his tone flat yet firm. "Grandpa said if there are destroyers, we must erase their tracks."

Laksmi knew what Wira meant. She had seen him "clean up" the aftermath of a landslide on the mountain, or restore a forest after a storm. But this was different. This was a village ruined by other humans.

"Wira, we don't have time," Laksmi tried to warn him. "Those martial artists could return at any moment. We have to leave here immediately."

Wira turned, his gaze so sharp it startled Laksmi. "Grandpa also said, leaving a trace of cruelty means letting that cruelty grow. I don't like this. This isn't right."

Without waiting for Laksmi's consent, Wira began to move. He walked towards the burnt huts. With his bare hands, he started to extinguish the lingering embers, tearing down fragile sections to prevent further danger, and even moving large debris with abnormal strength. He worked swiftly and tirelessly, as if performing a routine task on the mountain.

Laksmi could only watch him. Wira wasn't overtly using Sura, but every movement held an unnatural power that made the work seem effortless. Large stones were lifted, charred wooden beams shifted like matchsticks. In a short time, the chaotic ruins gradually began to look more organized.

Some villagers who might have managed to hide or flee now peeked from behind bushes or from a distance. They watched Wira working like a giant, clearing their devastated village. Their eyes were filled with confusion, yet also a glimmer of hope.

When Wira finished with the burnt sections, he returned to the old man's body. With his hands, he began to dig the ground near a large tree. The hard earth seemed to soften beneath his touch, quickly forming a grave. Laksmi helped Wira respectfully lay the old man's body to rest. Wira then neatly covered the grave, piling small stones on top as a marker.

"At least, he can rest in peace," Wira said, looking at the mound of earth. "No more disturbances."

Laksmi gazed at Wira. Beneath his innocence, behind his immeasurable power, lay a pure heart and a profound understanding of justice. Wira was not just a hero who protected her, but also someone with strong principles, learned from his grandfather amidst nature.

"Wira," Laksmi said, moving closer. "We have to go now. Someone might have seen you."

Wira nodded. He glanced towards the forest. "They will come again, won't they?"

Laksmi paused. "Perhaps. But this time, we have to be faster than them. We need to find out what truly happened to me and this pendant. It's not just about me anymore, Wira. It's about protecting others too, so there won't be another Old Stone Village."

Wira looked at Laksmi, then at the setting sun, painting the sky with orange and purple hues. He saw their elongated shadows stretching across the ground—his and Laksmi's. "Alright," Wira said, his voice calm but imbued with strong determination. "Then we must be faster. I will protect people so no one else gets troubled."

He took Laksmi's hand, pulling her gently. "Come on. Grandpa said promises must be kept. I made a promise to that Old Man, and I promised you."

They both walked away from Old Stone Village, now enveloped in dusk. Behind them, the traces of destruction were slightly erased, replaced by a new mound of earth and a vow spoken by an innocent youth, yet one possessing terrifying power. Their journey was now not just about survival, but about seeking justice in a cruel world.

They walked in silence for some time, only the scuffing of their footsteps on the dusty ground accompanying them. Wira was still lost in thought, trying to process the bitter new lesson. The old man's death, the village's destruction, and the cruelty inflicted by other humans—all were a dark side of the world his grandfather had never explicitly told him about. On the mountain, danger came from predictable wildlife. Here, danger came from fellow beings who were supposed to have reason.

"My grandpa said humans are supposed to live in harmony," Wira broke the silence, his voice soft and deep. "They're supposed to help each other, like monkeys grooming each other. Why do they hurt each other instead?"

Laksmi turned, looking at Wira's face illuminated by the faint moonlight. Her heart sank. Wira's question was so innocent, yet it contained a piercing truth.

"There are many reasons, Wira," Laksmi began, searching for the right words. "Sometimes it's for wealth, for power, or for revenge. Like the Night Shadow Sect. They killed my parents, perhaps for this pendant, or for other reasons we don't yet know." She clutched her jade pendant tightly, cold and mysterious. "They believe this pendant is the 'key to destruction.' I don't know what they mean by that."

Wira looked at the pendant. "Key to destruction? Is that a type of technique too? If it's destruction, then it's dangerous, right? More dangerous than Sura?"

Laksmi sighed. "I don't know, Wira. But if they were willing to kill my parents for it, then it must be very important. And very dangerous." She looked intently at Wira. "That's why we can't stay still. We have to find out. For my parents, and for other innocent people who might become their victims. Like the villagers of Old Stone Village."

Wira nodded, his gaze now radiating determination. "Alright. Then we have to make them understand. That troubling others is not good."

Laksmi smiled faintly. "Perhaps not just understand, Wira. Perhaps we have to stop them."

They continued walking under the moonlight, their shadows lengthening and shortening with the contours of the ground. The night air grew chilling, but to Wira, it meant nothing. His mind was filled with new lessons about human good and evil. He was eager to learn more, and for some reason, felt the need to make these "troublemakers" stop.

Far behind them, Old Stone Village was now completely silent, enveloped in darkness and lingering sadness. Only the new mound of earth stood as a silent witness, a simple gravestone marking Wira's first true imprint on the martial world, not as a martial artist seeking fame, but as an unwitting enforcer of justice. The night sky glittered with stars, as if silently witnessing a destiny that had just been etched.

Wira and Laksmi stepped forward, into an uncertain darkness, but with a purpose growing clearer in their hearts. The true adventure had just begun. They did not know what dangers awaited them, or how great an impact Wira's Sura power would have on a martial world hungry for power.