Capítulo 37: At Wirahasa Palace
The palace looked extraordinary. The main building consists of several pillars that support the cone-shaped roofs. The walls are decorated with beautiful carvings that tell the legends and history of past kingdoms. In front of the main building is a beautiful garden with fish ponds and stone bridges connecting different parts of the garden.
When Jagat entered the palace, he felt that the entire room was filled with an aura of honor and wisdom. The people in the palace, both the guards and the servants, seemed calm and wise. He was impressed by the atmosphere in the building.
This did not last long, however, as the sound of Wirahasa's laughter came to greet him. Applause echoed through the room. The two maids behind him faithfully carried trays of drinks.
"Wonderful! Incredible!" Wirahasa's face lit up as he motioned for one of his servants to serve Jagat.
"Keep going, Wirahasa. I'm here on the orders of Lord Mandana."
Jagat didn't even call Wirahasa "Tuan" anymore. He also gently brushed away the drink he had been given.
Seeing this, Wirahasa immediately became tense. The warm welcome he had received was greeted coldly by Jagat.
"Lowly human. How dare you refuse my gift. Just because you have moved from a new lord to a new kingdom."
"I am no one's lord. This is only a matter of work."
"I already know your business and where you are going, but don't you want to know the reason?"
Facing Wirahasa, who was full of tactics, Jagat had to be careful not to be fooled a second time. Whatever reason he gave must be related to his task today.
This palace is too big for him to occupy alone. The guards were only seen at the entrance gate and in some corners of the courtyard. However, he could see the tracks of overcrowded horses and muddy footprints on the floor of the courtyard in front of it.
He could also see an open door to the room. The gap was so small, but he could see moving figures, even if it was just a glimpse. He could confirm that it was a human shadow.
Wirahasa often received guests here. If he had received a pardon from Majapahit, it could be that he was making another plan. And this plan was closely related to the offer to Mandana.
"Whatever reason you give, I don't care. Since you know why I'm here, you can answer without me going back.
"You speak well now!"
Suddenly, Wirahasa clapped his hands again, and from the direction of his left back, in a corner of the palace pillar, a tall and large man emerged. His eyes were narrowed in a smile that seemed forced.
He was Ganzorig. His twin swords hung from the sides of his left and right waists. The former Mongol officer walked calmly, his body erect as if to challenge Jagat's piercing gaze.
There was nothing unusual about this encounter. Jagat had expected these Mongols to be with WIrahasa from the beginning, even though Kediri had fallen. The enemy of an enemy is a friend.
And these two people shared the same enemy, Majapahit.
"You don't seem surprised, Jagat? Or were you expecting this?" asked Wirahasa.
"Where is the Book of Demons, Wirahasa?"
"Don't you want to ask why the Mongol is here?"
Jagat smiled a little. Wirahasa asked about the Mongol when the so-called Mongol was here. He wanted to ask Ganzorig about the purpose of his presence in Kedaton in Mongolian, but it was too early. Not too important yet.
Wirahasa then led his two guests to a spacious pavilion at the side of the palace. A place where the host entertained his guests.
"With your intelligence you should know that the Book of Demons is just an excuse for me to get forgiveness from Majapahit, especially from that Arya Mandana. I still love my head, Jagat."
"Then I have no business here," Jagat said as he turned to leave.
"Wait. You must hear my explanation first. It has something to do with the Book of Demons. I heard you met Sabrang Panuluh?"
Jagat stopped for a moment, and it was a mistake, because Wirahasa seemed to get an answer.
Wirahasa continued his explanation. "You saved him when the Kediiri soldiers were chasing him, right? Why did you do that?"
"So that is the second reason?" Jagat asked from behind Wirahasa, who had turned his back on him.
"What do you mean?"
"You lured me to this place by saying that the Book of Demons was in your possession so that you could get forgiveness from Arya Mandana."
"Take it as a compliment from me."
"I am not interested in your praise."
Jagat continued his intention to leave the palace, but he could feel a subtle slash hovering near his left ear. The movement was so fast that it lodged firmly in the wooden pillar of the pavilion.
"Arrogant Javanese. You are not strong enough for me to behead you here," Ganzorig said in Mongolian.
"You can try now," Jagat replied in the same language.
Jagat's words naturally surprised Wirahasa to death, for there were few people in Java who could speak Mongolian fluently without the slightest error.
This is what Ki Wardiman meant by his elevated status. Language, unlike writing, is a symbol of civilization. Whoever masters the language masters the science of the nation. And in this case, it was the Mongols.
Ganzorig, however, would not remain dumbfounded for long. Wirahasa's amazement ended when Ganzorig nonchalantly drew his twin swords, which had lost their pairs. The sun's rays reflected the cold glow of the swords.
With a steady step, the twin swords that had lost their mates were pulled back from their sheaths. In an instant, his body leapt upward like a giant awakening from a long sleep. The sky above the battle arena was filled with brilliant sunlight, reflecting the gleam of the steel swords held tightly in the Mongolian officer's muscular hands.
Jagat, on the other hand, watched Ganzorig's every move with a keen eye. Silently, he tried to project every detail of his opponent's movements into his hypnotic memory. He knew how dangerous Ganzorig was and the power the warrior possessed with his twin swords. But Jagat was confident that his memory would be the secret weapon to respond to the attacks.
The battle began, and the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. Ganzorig swung his sword with speed and precision, creating blows that formed deadly lines in the air. Each of his attacks, however, seemed to be anticipated by Jagat with astonishing accuracy. Ganzorig's every move was perfectly captured by Jagat's watchful eye, allowing him to deftly evade and devise a well-thought-out counter plan.
The fight became increasingly fast and complex. Ganzorig moved nimbly forward and backward, trying to find gaps in Jagat's defenses. But Jagat stood firm, deflecting each attack with his incredible physical strength and memory. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his body, and every beat of his heart seemed to slow time around him.
There was no surrender for these two warriors. They stared at each other intensely, both full of determination to be the strongest. Sweat poured from their bodies and their steps quickened, filling the arena with tenacity and fighting spirit.
Without mercy, Ganzorig attacked with a series of punch and kick combinations that shook the air. Jagat, however, was able to anticipate each move, and with elegant movements, he dodged each attack by an inch.
With his bare hands, Jagat kept a close eye on all the arms and legs Ganzoring used to support his moves. This was all Jagat could do. He moved like a skilled dancer. He used clever body defenses. The fruit of his memory and keen observation. So Ganzorig was forced to attack with difficulty.
Several guards arrived. Not only from the palace, but also from the Mongol soldiers who had come with Ganzorig. All had surrounded the pavilion, weapons in hand.
This fight would be difficult if he continued to fight Ganzorig with his bare hands, even though all his movements had been read by him. He was just waiting for Wirahasa to stop the fight.
Jagat had to be patient for a moment before Wirahasa's cry echoed in the pavilion.
"Enough! Enough entertainment. You're not here to fight."
Ganzorig stopped fighting immediately and was rewarded with a quiet sneer from Jagat.
"Turns out you've become Wirahasa's dog."
Ganzorig walked away, not understanding what Jagat was saying. Without saying much, Jagat walked away, leaving Wirahasa running after him.
"Wait a minute, Jagat! We can still talk carefully. This time the reward for you is great."
"I am not interested."
Gelanggelang is only a small duchy of Kediri, no longer controlled by the Jayakatwang family. Wirahasa was only a pardoned prisoner. There was no need to cooperate with him. The ruler of Java was now Majapahit.
Jagat remained unconcerned until a loud cry from Wirahasa stopped him in his tracks.
"It's Wisesa!"
Wisesa was a fellow book thief. They were close and often swapped jobs, though they always worked individually.
"What about him?" asked Jagat. Arya Mandana had mentioned Wisesa before.
"He's holding a copy of the Book of Demons. I told Mandana about it, but you asked her to pick it up."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Perhaps you can persuade her to give up the copy and give it to Mandana. Then I can work in this place again. Build everything from scratch."
"With these Mongols? What if Mandana finds out you're working with them?"
"You wouldn't dare say that."
A truly brave bluff by Wirahasa. He could have told Mandana everything that happened today, but instead Wirahasa challenged him.
"Go to Wisesa and ask him for a copy of the book."
"Or what?"
"I have sent a spy to watch your lover, Jagat. What's her name? Gendis, is it? Yes, Gendis. Is she as beautiful as Ken Dedes?"
"You bastard!"
Ganzorig lunged forward again with his sword.
"Go to Wisesa. Take the copy of the book to Mandana."
Regalos
-- Regalo
recibido Estado de energía semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Piedra de
Poder