"Wow, how rude of you to trespass into the kingdom of my friend," a voice echoed from above.
"Badranwuruk," Pusmoko muttered, his eyes narrowing suspiciously toward the figure.
A fierce wind roared as the figure descended, blasting the soldiers of both the Aryapanggulu and Tirtawijaya kingdoms backward, along with several riders atop the backs of the Gavian.All except the demons of Jagrapati—who stood their ground, for the wind lacked the force to topple them.
Had they not risen quickly, death would have claimed them.
With great effort, they struggled to their feet.
Of course, their enemies wouldn’t let such a chance slip away.
Luckily, the Jagrapati demons shielded them, preventing the attacks of the Dahaluk demons from landing.
At least, until Badranwuruk himself joined the fray.
The Jagrapati demons were sent flying under his assault—not far, but enough to leave wounds.
"What do we do? The physical and mental power of Damugeni’s robe is far greater than any artifact we’ve faced," Pusmoko muttered under his breath.
"We must press on. Do not tremble," Puspo Geni replied.
Once again, Badranwuruk’s attacks forced them to retreat.
But trembling? That was not in their nature.
"Blood unification," Pati Wuruh suggested.
They knew there was no other option. Even if it couldn’t match the robe’s power, it could still boost their strength.
The Jagrapati demons turned on one another—not out of betrayal——but because it was the only way to perform the ritual.
Once each was wounded, magic circles appeared beneath them—one circle for every three demons.
They glowed in various colors: emerald green, ocean blue, obsidian black, rose red, blood red, gold, copper, silver, and sunset orange.
Their forms twisted into monstrous visages. Three-headed, many-mouthed, or sporting erratic, numerous arms—their appearances became fearsome.
"Your strength still can’t match me. Take a look in the mirror," the Damugeni robe mocked.
"Even if our power is lacking, at least we’ve tried to strengthen ourselves," one demon retorted, readying for battle.
"You stubborn fools!" the Damugeni robe smarled. "Badranwuruk, kill them."
"You don’t need to order me—I know already. And remember, I’m your master now. I should be giving you orders," Badranwuruk grumbled.
"Fine, whatever," the robe replied.
Badranwuruk lunged, his blow so fierce it sent his target skidding far across the ground.
Such was the might of a fragment of their king’s body.
And yet—they were demons. Fear had no place in their hearts.
For they did not fight for cruelty’s sake——they fought for an oath.
An oath sworn to the Demon King, Semar.
With blazing resolve, they charged Badranwuruk in unison.
Pain? For Badranwuruk, it was nothing.
In fact, it was… ticklish.
Such was the power of Damugeni—one of the Eight Dark Artifacts, forged from the shedded skin of Demon King Semar.
A mere flick of Badranwuruk’s fingers sent them flying once more.
If they could not rise, they could not fight.
But as they stood again, they were struck first.
The truth was clear—their strength was nothing compared to his.
And most of that power… came from the robe itself.
William dashed in, sword in hand, but when his blade clashed against Badranwuruk’s body—
—it shattered.
Not snapped. Not broken in two.Shattered into countless fragments.
William wanted to restore it, but he knew it was impossible—his blacksmith’s warning echoed in his mind. This was the fatal flaw of an exoferite sword: once destroyed, it could never be repaired.
Sudirja wished to join the fight, but he too knew his power was insufficient. So instead, he called upon something.
"Singogeni," Sudirja spoke.
His clothes trembled. A magic circle formed upon his chest, bearing the image of a single-eyed elephant head, glowing blood-red.
Then, armor wrapped around him—a crimson cuirass adorned with wolf heads on each shoulder, and at its center, a gaping, fanged mouth like a crescent moon. Its tongue lolled down from the chest.
"What is it, William?" the armor asked.
"Call me by my name in this Time Nexus," Sudirja chided.
"Yeah, yeah. What is it, Sudirja?" the being replied—Singogeni.
"You’re the fourth weakest Dark Artifact, right? Can you help me defeat that demon?" Sudirja pointed to Badranwuruk.
"I can, but I can’t last long. Remember—I’m also like you, an alternate of Singogeni in this Time Nexus," Singogeni replied.
"How long can you exist?" Sudirja asked.
"Thirty minutes," Singogeni answered.
"Plenty of time," Sudirja replied.
Sudirja leapt from his Gavian mount. Dion immediately sensed Sudirja was serious. The Gavian warriors recognized the armor as well.
"Isn’t that the Singogeni cuirass?" one Gavian asked.
"Only its alternate. My power matches the one of this Time Nexus, but I’ll eventually return to fragthesized form," Singogeni answered.
Sudirja charged. Without realizing it, Badranwuruk was sent flying.
"Impossible… Singogeni siding with humans?" Badranwuruk’s eyes widened.
"Calm down. It’s only an alternate," Damugeni assured him.
"Even so, we’ll lose," Badranwuruk replied.
"Relax—it’ll only last thirty minutes."
Reassured, Badranwuruk resolved to simply outlast them.
But Sudirja was relentless—dodging every blow, countering again and again. For thirty minutes, the exchange continued.
When the armor finally vanished—
"Got you," Badranwuruk smirked, hand thrust toward Sudirja’s heart.
Sudirja braced, unwilling to surrender.
"Dark Chain of Inquisitor!" Dion’s voice rang out. Chains bound Badranwuruk’s arm, though weakly.
Dion dashed to Sudirja, shoving him aside just as the demon’s claws struck—still grazing, still piercing near the heart.
The opening was there.
Arjuna transformed into battle form, magic blazing.Arga descended from his Gavian, shifting into a giant’s form.
Together, they struck Badranwuruk with desperate speed—until at last, Damugeni’s robe slipped free.
With Badranwuruk defeated, the Gavian forces razed Dahaluk’s territory, slaughtering its demons.
When it was over, they traveled to Aryapanggulu—bringing with them Dion’s body.
They did not return to their original fragthesis.They had one last duty: Dion’s funeral.
Everyone grieved, but none more than Atron.
"Father… don’t leave me!" Atron sobbed.
"It’s fate. Accept it," William consoled him.
"William," Sudirja called.
"What is it?" William asked
"After the funeral, come to the palace," Sudirja ordered.
The rites ended. Everyone departed—except Atron, who lingered at Dion’s cremation site.
At the palace, William found it filled within demons from Jagrapati. He knew why—they intended to continue their research.
He began drawing a magic circle—this one for detection.
Focusing every sense into the spell, he felt something strange.
"I’m sensing something," he murmured.
"What is it?" Sudirja asked.
"I’m detecting energies from particles that shouldn’t exist in this world," William answered.
"What particles?" Sudirja asked.
"Higgs, Z, and Gluon," William answered.
"Help! Atron is missing!" a voice cried from behind.
"Where’s the source of those particles?" Sudirja demanded.
"The site of Dion’s cremation," William replied.
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