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The Mute of The Demon Cave

In the midst of political intrigue and warfare during the founding of the Majapahit Kingdom, Jagat Wengi, a cunning and individualistic 25-year-old book thief, takes center stage. As he navigates the treacherous landscapes of both the martial arts world and the royal court, Jagat Wengi undergoes a remarkable transformation from villain to Anti-Hero. Torn between conflicting loyalties and a quest for redemption, he becomes known as “The Mute of The Demon Cave” after a fateful encounter leaves him voiceless. Armed with secret arts and fueled by revenge, Jagat Wengi embarks on a perilous journey to seek justice against those who betrayed him. Blending elements of fantasy, including magic, mysticism, and local myths, this historical fiction offers an enthralling tale of power, sacrifice, and the relentless pursuit of goodness in a world steeped in darkness.

RendraHarahap · História
Classificações insuficientes
95 Chs

One Thousand Step Technique.

Instantly, Jagat Wengi's courage dwindled. His body weakened, and he slowly stepped back, feeling a sudden heaviness in his legs. The Mongol in front of him was an officer, evident from his different armor and headgear compared to the ten soldiers accompanying him.

Quickly, he thought hard, gathering all his knowledge, intelligence, and cunning in an attempt to escape this encirclement.

"Just a moment, Officer. You need to hear my reasons first. This is solely our affair, nothing to do with the Kediri Commander," Jagat Wengi spoke, trying to guess that the Kediri soldiers were surely collaborating. He simply wanted the Mongol troops not to interfere.

The interpreter brought by the officer promptly translated Jagat Wengi's words. There was a change in facial expression. Jagat Wengi made sure his manipulation was going smoothly.

"They both insulted my sister when Kediri was in power, Officer. Now that the kingdom has fallen, it's time for me to seek revenge. But if you gentlemen wish to pursue the Commander, please let him go to the east."

"Li—"

*Thud!

Before Bekel had a chance to correct Jagat Wengi's statement, his face was struck by a powerful punch.

"The punch you just received is nothing compared to the honor of my sister," Jagat Wengi declared.

The member of Bekel continued to show a perplexed expression. His eyes kept glancing as if trying to decipher the information Jagat Wengi was conveying.

"But aren't you an orphan—"

*Thud!

Once again, a powerful kick hit the man's abdomen, silencing him as the man attempted to unveil Jagat Wengi's true identity.

Some of the Tartar soldiers chuckled at the sight of the three natives punching and kicking each other. The interpreter accompanying the officer quickly addressed the situation with a whisper.

"Hey, you! Come here!"

Jagat Wengi took a slow breath, preparing himself for whatever might happen to him. Nonetheless, he remained calm. He could buy precious time for Rakryan Tumenggung Sabrang to escape as far as possible.

"I'll give you the opportunity to kill them here. Preserve the honor of your sister. Please proceed!"

Both Bekel and his men were astonished as the interpreter conveyed the officer's statement. Bekel immediately rushed forward to confront Jagat Wengi, but a swift kick from Jagat Wengi landed on his chest.

Bekel's eyes failed to catch the swift movement of the foot. His men didn't stay idle either, swiftly unsheathing their daggers from the belts at their backs.

"Hiaaat!"

His shout echoed loudly in the forest that had begun to darken without illumination. The Mongol officer's hand signal to his soldiers was answered by them scattering to all points.

Torches were planted around the trees, turning the fight between the three Javanese men into a spectacle, entertainment for the entire Mongol army.

The ten soldiers had spread out, forming a circle. This fight was truly a matter of life or death.

*Daag!

Jagat Wengi's parry against Bekel's kick forced him to shift momentarily, distancing himself from the two-on-one assault. For now, this was all he could do to delay the escape of Rakryan Tumenggung and his wife.

Bekel and his companion advanced simultaneously, but with agility, Jagat Wengi continued to retreat, circling the Mongol soldiers' formation. His eyes darted around, searching for the right weapon for defense and counterattack.

One soldier wielding a longsword became his target. They were only three steps apart. However, Bekel was quicker than he anticipated. Closing the distance, he unleashed a mixture of kicks and punches.

From the left, a swift thrust of a dagger was launched. Jagat Wengi attempted to kick it away, but his defense was immediately exposed, providing Bekel with a golden opportunity to strike him.

Jagat Wengi was flung backward, landing at the feet of the Mongol soldier. He was forcibly hoisted back up. There was no time to recover as another wave of attacks ensued.

Jagat Wengi was just a book thief, not a warrior or a disciple who trained in martial arts schools. He only needed to run fast, disguise himself well, and rely on his cunning intellect.

He had already employed one clever tactic, but he didn't anticipate being forced into such a direct fight.

He was bound to lose. It was impossible to defeat Bekel and his men.

"Hiaaat!"

Bekel and his men shouted almost simultaneously as they launched another assault on Jagat Wengi.

Two daggers were drawn. It was his moment to demonstrate the skills of the body evasion techniques he had trained for years, learned from the stolen martial arts manuals.

Jagat Wengi leaped high, surpassing Bekel and his men. His target was clear, returning to his initial plan of seizing the sword from the Mongol soldier.

But fate was against him. The soldier retreated backward and laughed as Jagat Wengi grasped nothing but air.

Seizing a favorable opportunity, he abruptly gripped the Mongol soldier's neck and kicked his abdomen.

"You wretched narrow-eyed scoundrel!"

Unwilling to be treated like that, the Mongol soldier immediately retaliated by gripping Jagat Wengi's shoulder. Jagat Wengi glanced as Bekel and his men advanced, daggers drawn in their hands.

*Cleeb!

The sound of a thrust was clearly audible, but it wasn't Jagat Wengi who was struck. Instead, it was the Mongol soldier who was left bleeding, his body twisted and serving as a living shield for Jagat Wengi.

Silence fell upon the scene. Suddenly, everything became quiet as they witnessed the unfolding events before their eyes. Jagat Wengi saw this as an incredibly advantageous opportunity.

"Murderer! You killed a Mongol soldier!"

Provocative shouts escaped Jagat Wengi's mouth as he pointed his index finger accusingly. The other soldiers were incensed. The translator awaited orders, but the officer remained silent, observing attentively.

The situation had reversed. Bekel and his men prepared themselves for retaliation. The remaining nine soldiers moved in, surrounding them.

For Jagat Wengi, this was the perfect chance to escape. Before the situation could change once again, he had to move swiftly. He needed to reach the tall bushes behind him.

Without looking back, Jagat Wengi leaped and ran towards the east. He ran as fast as he could. A thief was obligated to run, infiltrate, and disguise.

But for now, he didn't need disguise or infiltration. He just wanted to run and keep running.

Upon reaching a large tree, Jagat Wengi halted his escape. The slight scraping sound from his shifting heel did create a noise.

In the midst of the dark night and the dense forest, human sounds were considered taboo. Forest sounds were reserved for insects, birds, and geckos.

He then leaped to the next tree, pausing briefly to assess the situation. He regulated his breathing after employing the Thousand Steps technique. His evasion skills were not perfected, as they were only trained for stealing books, not for fleeing battles.

Sooner or later, the officer would realize what was truly happening. But Jagat Wengi didn't care because Rakryan Tumenggung and his wife must have already distanced themselves.

Jagat Wengi felt that in his current state, his enemies would soon be able to hear him. The silence of the forest would amplify their footsteps. There was no way to mask it. The wind no longer blew.

As he closed his eyes, he suddenly heard footsteps approaching. Jagat Wengi's hearing was finely tuned, even if it was faint, allowing him to capture subtle sounds.

Two breaths beneath him were moving slowly. Their footsteps were well-trained, possibly belonging to a skilled martial artist. Who would go hunting in the forest at night? Unless they were hunting humans!

Curiosity struck, Jagat Wengi peered down, focusing his sight on the two individuals dressed entirely in white. Fortunately, he was clad in all black. The tree's wooden color and the darkness of the night could camouflage him. He didn't need to bother employing the Night Camouflage Technique in a situation like this.

However, there was a sound of wind brushing against his back. Jagat Wengi was late to realize that someone had ambushed him from behind.

Quickly, Jagat Wengi rolled downward, paying no attention to the assailant's face. Escaping was a formidable technique he could employ at the moment.

His second escape didn't involve traversing the treetops but running across the ground and tall grass with the Thousand Steps technique. An ordinary person would perceive him as running on the ground, but that wasn't the case at all. His feet still touched the earth, but his speed created the illusion of gliding.

There was a secret book known to Jagat Wengi that could make one levitate in the air, but stealing that book was challenging. It would also fetch a high price if sold. If he managed to obtain it, perhaps he would copy it and sell it at a high price.

In addition to stealing books, there was another job: copying books. Usually, they were duplicated to make copies for distribution to students, typically containing fundamental techniques.

Then the book copying trade eventually veered towards criminal activities. Occasionally, book thief also had to copy for themselves or sell to others.

And only specific books were duplicated. To save expenses, Jagat Wengi sometimes made his own palm-leaf paper. The palm-leaf paper was truly expensive.

Jagat Wengi could gain two benefits from copying books. He could sell them at a high price and learn the techniques to support his work.

Just like his current escape. His evasion skills could be considered above average compared to the average martial artist, carrying him far to the edge of the forest where he caught sight of a faint light. Jagat Wengi appeared delighted.

He saw a settlement!

He flickered, running once again with his agile body. He sprinted swiftly like a deer and glided like a bird. The light guided him back to experience life, far from fear and pursuit.

After three leaps from branch to branch, Jagat Wengi noticed peculiar movement three trees ahead. A rope was stretched, prepared by someone whose identity couldn't be guessed.

He had already committed to running using the Thousand Steps technique like this. It would take a considerable amount of time to evade the noose ahead.

His mind kept spinning, and the result was grabbing hold of a tree branch, and pulling it until it snapped off from its stem.

At least with this branch, he could mitigate the long rope up ahead.