The Musafir

The Ruined Village

The flabbergasted mantle saw the scene before him. A small village, which has been destroyed by its kitchen and its contents. There were only a few houses still standing inside this small village, the rest were burnt or torn down.

The village is not seen inhabited anymore, except for the scattered bodies that began to rot, scattered origin in the middle of the road.

The originally bright gaze of Mantingan was like it was covered in cloudy clouds. Mournfully.

For the Mantingan, fighting for power is a ridiculous and futile thing. The two warring parties confess to each other that they are the best in leading a seat of power, but they oppress the people for the sake of war. Just look at what was in front of the Mantingan, it has become proof that human greed can cause destruction.

What if the people of a kingdom or power flocked away from their king? Without the people, the king is not the king. Without a king, power is not power. It can be said that the king is the face for power. The king only needs to speak and present himself, while the governing is actually behind him. Kings change with age, but a power never really dies.

Mantingan stepped inside the ruined village. He stared pityfully at the corpses he met. Is there no sense of responsibility for these corpses? Besides being able to cause illness, these corpses need respect.

The mantle breathed a long breath. He decided to burn these bodies, for their good and for their honor. Mantingan began to work, transporting the bodies to a small field where their bodies would be burned. Luckily Mantingan had gotten used to the Death Scent Flower which smelled just like a thousand corpses, so he himself this time had no significant difficulties.

After the bodies were collected and the pancaka erected from the wooden debris of the building, Mantingan approached one by one with a torch in the right hand. Burning dozens of simple pancaka along with the bodies in it. Smoke rises like a sign of sadness.

Mantingan sat and stared at the pancakas from a distance. Sometimes he was full of regrets. I don't know what he regretted, but Mantingan remains sorry.

***

That night, in one of the village houses that was not destroyed. Coats brew hot tea for themselves and some of the foods available in the kitchen. He lit small lanterns around a single-seat dining table. He looked outside the house from a small window in the kitchen, the night would be very quiet if the crickets were not walking.

Mantang brought the tea he had brewed to the dining table. He sat on a chair and stared at the dish in front of him. A small plate of rice, some kind of boiled vegetables, and a nice piece of food from the Land of the Roof of Heaven commonly called tofu or bean curd.

Mantingan wanted to eat the dishes quietly, but how could he calm down when imagining what kind of calamity was happening in this village? He remembered the bodies he had collected, their bodies full of wounds. The least worn is when remembering the body of a baby whose head was violently crushed. Worse are the bodies of women.

Given that, Mantingan lost his appetite. He pushed the chair back and left the dining table with a sigh. Mantingan continued to walk until he reached the terrace of the house. Do not forget Mantingan lights a small lantern on the terrace to make yourself more calm.

The mantan sat on a long divan with his two hands rubbing his head. His mind was burdened by the question of whether he should help by fighting the black warriors or act indifferently and only fight in times of urgency.

The young man did not like to kill even black warriors, but this was what happened if they were left alive. Innocent weaklings will be his victims. Again the purpose of Mantingan found Kembangmas disturbed, but Mantingan could not be unhappy, because it should be a humanitarian task.

He heard the sound of very soft and light steps. Whoever comes, he is not a random person. The mantle patted his forehead when it realized its mistake. The thick smoke from the pancaka-pancaka must have provoked the high-level swordsmen to come to this place. Surely the man knew that this village had become a dead village, and felt suspicious when he saw the smoke coming from the direction of the village.

The mantle settles into the house with almost no sound. In the kitchen he took the Sword of Kiai Kedai which was leaning against the wall. Then with a quick movement, Mantingan jumped over the small window in the kitchen, his feet tracing the ground outside the house.

Still with vigilance, Mantingan bounces to the roof of the house to be able to see everything around clearly. On the roof of the house his eyes caught a shadow that flashed down. Not wanting to lose the warrior figure, the Mantingan again jumped down.

Arriving below, with a quick movement of the Mantingan surrounding the house, he met again with the shadow figure who immediately jumped again to the roof. Mantingan remained calm even though he seemed to be played.

Arriving at the rooftop, the figure of that person seemed unwilling to dodge anymore. In the darkness of the night and the sunyinya of the village, he stood firmly on the roof of the house. He pointed his sword blade towards the Mantingan that had just come. Despite the dark situation, the blade of the sword still looked shiny.

The mantan grasped the hilt of his sword and prepared to attack. But before attacking, Mantingan put up Eagle Eye Science to see who his opponent. So did the opponent of the Mantingan, he installed his sharp vision science.

“Jah!”

The mantang and the figure both heaved a sigh of relief and lowered their vigilance. The figure of the swordsman sheathed his sword before laughing.

“Mantingan! I didn't expect to see you here.”

The mantel returned the laughter. “Satya, long time no see.”

Indeed, after installing sharp vision science, the two recognize each other as old friends.

“Satya, are your needs too urgent? If not, you should stop by for a while down.”

In the darkness Satya, the ant nest hunter, frowned. “Mantingan, do you have a home and live in this village?”

The mantle shook and smiled. “No, I just stopped by here for a while and took care of the bodies here. You must know what happened to a village like this. I hitchhiked in one of the houses that still stood up for last night's break. You can rest or drink tea.”

Satya laughed again. “Thank you for the offer, Mantingan.”