Arc I
The Man Who Was Marked By the Devil
***
One must understand that every desire requires sacrifice. And the most sinister one of it all often involve pacts with the devil.
This was the fate that befell Adanu Raksa. At the tender age of 6, he was offered as a sacrificial tribute to the Carrion Flower Devil.
Although he managed to survive the ritual, the devil's grip on him never waned. Sleep always eludes him as he unwittingly attracts demons and malevolent spirits every night.
"Come forth, you vile creatures!"
With confidence, brandishing a thick, black short sword in his right hand, he taunts the demons to come.
Despite his humble shabby cloak, his face describes beauty like those of nobles, with smooth and clean skin, a bit tanned but emanating radiant like a full moon. His ear-length hair is a bit messy blew by the hilly wind, the same with his shabby cloak which he usually uses as a blanket for sleep.
The sun has long since set, and a horde of forest demons and undeads begin to approach his hillside hut at the southern base of Mount Saringgih. The dense woods are illuminated only by the dim light of the crescent moon, which cast eerie shadows on the approaching entities.
Confronted by their overwhelming numbers, Adanu Raksa begins to doubt his intention to face them.
Not out of fear, but...
"I need to draw them away from this place. Otherwise, that old Bayanaka will be furious with me again!"
He is not alone on this hillside; there is a hermitage inhabited by an elderly hermit named Ki Bayanaka. This hermit, with his keen sense and sharp nose, can't stand the foul smell of carcasses of the demons Adanu Raksa slaughters every night.
As Adanu Raksa is busy dealing with those demonic entities, a voice suddenly shatters the silence night.
"Did I not tell you to lure them away from my dwelling?"
"Darn it!" Adanu Raksa complains wearily as he wipes his short sword clean of blood using nearby bushes.
He temporarily abandons the fight, concealing the sword in a tattered old cloth. Nonchalantly, he evades all the incoming attacks while reattaching the sword to his waist.
"Apologies, Gramps! I'll take care of it now!"
There's no other choice but to lead the demons to the north, away from the hermitage and his own hut. He moves swiftly but cautiously, while taking short rests whenever he finds some space.
He travels through three hills and four valleys, a distance normally takes one days of travel by walk. Right before the sun rises, he finds a village on the hillside from a distance, which makes him a bit awry.
Not wanting the demons to harm innocent villagers, he makes a fateful decision to turn back and confront them.
"It would be troublesome if someone discovers your ugly asses here."
Even a few white and transparent evil spirits present too, hover in the air between the trees. With resolve, Adanu Raksa unwraps the cloth from his black sword, and then secures the cloth around his left arm.
He appears ready to face the malevolent creatures with his unique short sword. It's a kind of black Damascus sword, a relic from a long lost friend in the past.
The white and transparent evil spirits swiftly close in on him. Effortlessly, he butchers a few with a casual wave of his sword, causing their piercing screams to assault his ears.
"Shit! Your screams sound like the moans of a harlot," he grumbles as he rubs his ear.
Yet, one evil spirit manages to touch his head from behind, draining his life force and attempting to control his mind. And suddenly, a devilish whisper infiltrates his head.
<< Stop resisting, branded child! Are you not tired of running away from us? Embrace your fate. Let us take you to the Carrion Flower Devil. That way, we shall release you from your suffering >>
Adanu Raksa seems to struggle, clutching his head with both hands. But then, a sinister grin twists his features into those of a madman thirsty for battle.
"Do I appear tired to your eyes?"
With a sharp wave of his sword, he butchers the evil spirit effortlessly.
"I am far from the weakness of my youth." He grumbles, anticipation gleaming in his eyes as more forest demons approaching. "Just come here and taste how sweet this edge of my sword is."
He has been moving nonstop all night, but tiredness hasn't visited him yet. He singlehandedly dispatches the demons with a smooth yet deadly sword technique. Even his shabby robe remains unblemished, untainted by the blood and gore of the demons he slains.
This is not the first such night for him, not the last either. In fact, he hasn't experienced a peaceful night without battling these demons for years.
As the dawn's light begins to break across the sky, the fog also slowly disperses. Adanu Raksa can still glimpse the distant shadows of a few forest demons, retreating and vanishing into the dark and misty rainforest.
Despite his years of familiarity with them, he remains clueless as to where these malevolent creatures hide during the day.
"Daaamn! I've gone too far from Mount Saringgih?"
He cancels his plan to return to his hut and decides to visit the nearby village instead. Upon reaching the village border, he discovers a stone with Sanskrit carvings.
Muttering while squinting, he reads, "Ku, lon, se, wu?"
"Yes, this is Kulonsewu Village," replies someone from behind.
Three village youths approach him. One of them looks so sleepy, yawning while rubbing his eyes.
"It's such a long and tiring journey. Is there a nearby food stall here?" Adanu Raksa asks.
"There's one over there. They're known for their coffee in this northern part of Marajaya Kingdom," one of the boys explains.
"That's great. A cup of coffee is all I need on this chilly morning," Adanu Raksa replies, rubbing both his shoulders.
However, some sinister eyes keep following his move as soon as he enters that small village.