The Musafir

Scorpions and Irreverence

INDEED PREVALENT. Trauma from the former war is common in some soldiers. Usually it is soldiers who do not have strong beliefs while fighting. Not knowing the exact purpose of the war he was fighting. When they had to meet the ordinary people who were suffering, they would feel very guilty, trying to forgive themselves but could never.

However, there were also some soldiers who did not experience such a thing. Contrary, such soldiers usually had strong convictions. Have a definite purpose. Until they give up their lives for the sake of the group is okay. This is common in special armies or pedigree warriors.

Black flow fighters for example. They unhesitatingly killed a population that was clearly not involved in the war. Their goal was clear: to take control of the territory under attack. They will not hesitate to kill, rape, and do such crazy things. For them, such a thing is entertainment in itself.

But not for ordinary royal soldiers. If they do not often receive spiritual direction from their superiors, they will fight like tools. Only attach importance to the success of the task without the need to think about its causes. As a result, their mental state is broken. Unnoticed at first, and only felt after the war ended. Not a few who eventually choose suicide, or choose to become a swordsman to die in honor.

It is ridiculous to fight without a purpose. Each of the two sides, be it Truth or Heresy, must have a clear purpose. If the Truth is at war for a life of peace on earth, then heresy is at war for the benefit of little capital. If Truth makes Gusti the Lord of Heaven and Earth, then Heresy makes man the ruler of the earth and Gusti the Lord of Heaven.

The heavens and the earth are not to be separated. But let it be so. Gusti allowed Misguidance to prevail if the time had come. But it's not forever. Gusti will always send his emissaries from among men, to resurrect His Kingdom on earth. Will always, until any time, no matter how sophisticated the times. At different times, on different lands. Allah is Wrestling for His promises.

So that is how in war must have a clear purpose. Do not let the war be a futile war. Harming most humans, benefiting a small percentage of humans. War is only a matter of necessity, if it is life or death, to kill or be killed. War should not be used as a means of profit-seeking, as colonization, or as a vehicle of entertainment.

Human notions of war should be changed. War is not cool. Not cool at all. Maybe those who see it firsthand or read the story, will find war cool. War is amazing. But no one wants to be a victim of war. In war, victims are still needed.

The same should also be applied in the life of the pejilatan lake. It is not necessary to fight to the death just to gain honor. Gusti had given humans precious lives, how ungrateful if those lives were only used to seek ridiculous deaths.

Mantingan actually more agree if martial arts are used as art. Whether it's the art of fighting or the art of performing. Unlike today, where warriors have to bet their lives faces many threats from other warriors. Whereas when they bet lives, they put the lives of other warriors at risk. Such is the river of the martial lake, which despite its name is a lake, but the life in it is never as calm as the lake water.

***

I DON'T KNOW, MAYBE it was last night or whatever time. The Northern River Angel awoke with a strange feeling. It felt like he had just taken a nap. The absence of the sun actually managed to make himself feel extremely strange.

The Northern River Angel tidied his hair and glanced at Mantingan who only closed his eyes. Then he glanced around, just like the beginning before he fell asleep. Nothing has changed. Of course, there was no wind or earthquake, it was only natural that nothing had changed. If something changes, then that's not normal. It could be a wild animal or a subtle creature.

North River Angel wiggled Mantingan's legs slowly. He does not want to wake up alone. The mantle only needs to open its eyes before it gets up. He looked around too, just as the Angel of the North River—ia did not find anything moving. He then glanced at the North River Angel.

“Do you feel well rested?” The mantel asks slowly.

The North River Angel nodded. It's feeling better. Her eyes are no longer pouchy. And his mind had calmed down enough to feel fear again, but the Northern River Angel was unwilling to show that fear to Mantingan.

“Then, we should go back to walking and get out as soon as possible from here.”

Both are back walking. Just like they did earlier. Walk without finding the end. Walk without finding the light from outside. Only the Light Magic Throw continued to light up their path. In the endless dark alley, whose darkness was eternal and eternal. Towards the point of hope, see the true light of Him. They will not succumb to darkness, no matter how long the darkness deceives them in its long deceitful twists, they will not be deceived. Will not sleep and dream as if it is fine. This darkness is not okay.

The longer they walked, not just spiders they encountered. Several times they encountered scorpions. Unlike the spiders, the scorpions they encountered here seemed fearless. The scorpion remains stationary in place, curling its tail containing can. Prepare to fight Mantingan and Bidadari North River.

Some scorpions usually only pass through, but some others are forced to be paralyzed. Because some of them dare to attack. Not to mention that the attacking ones had a large size.

The further forward, the more the mantan encounters the fighting scorpion. Even now they formed groups and attacked simultaneously. Mantingan asked the North River Angel to retreat slowly while continuing to immobilize the approaching scorpion.

“This is unnatural.” The mantain knows that. Not usually scorpions attack, especially in groups. As the Mantingan knows, scorpions live alone. Never had he seen scorpions flocking and hunting.

The North River Angel nodded. His face showed a sense of anxiety as he looked at the scorpion which was getting more and more closer. The mantan fumbled up his sword, ready to take out the blade of the Kiai Kedai Sword.