Guntur blinked, his smile faltering only slightly. “Do what? Oh, the punch! Well, it’s just a basic ‘Tinju Padi’ punch, you know, the one Grandfather taught me. Nothing fancy. Though,” he tapped his chin thoughtfully, “it felt a bit… stronger this time? Like the air just gave way more easily. Maybe I finally got the form right!” Bolo, now perched happily on Guntur’s shoulder, let out a series of delighted squeaks, nuzzling Guntur’s neck. A small, golden sparkle still clung to its fur, a faint echo of the pulverized rock. Intan’s gaze flickered to the creature, then back to Guntur, her expression unreadable. She knew the ‘Tinju Padi’ – a fundamental, foundational technique taught to every child in Nusa Indah. It certainly didn’t shatter mountainsides. The dust cloud, still billowing in the distance, pointed to something far beyond basic form. Her suspicion hardened. “A basic punch doesn’t disintegrate a rockslide,” Intan stated, her voice flat. “And it certainly doesn’t make creatures like… that,” she gestured vaguely at Bolo, “appear and then glow.” Guntur chuckled, reaching up to gently pat Bolo’s head. “Oh, Bolo just appeared because I saved him! He was probably just stuck under a tiny pebble, and my punch, well, it helped clear the way. Good timing, eh?” He beamed, completely missing the incredulity etched on Intan’s face. Bolo chirped in agreement, licking Guntur’s ear. Intan merely shook her head, a soft huff escaping her lips. Arguing with him felt like trying to debate a particularly sunny cloud. They continued their climb toward the grand gates of the Academy, the flagstones clear of rubble save for glittering grit. Intan walked a few paces ahead, her mind racing. There was no known discipline, no forgotten scroll, no hidden technique that could explain what Guntur had just done. It was an anomaly, a wild variable she couldn’t categorize. And anomalies were dangerous. The main gates loomed, carved from colossal segments of dark, polished stone, shimmering with faint protective runes. Above them, the first of the floating islands drifted, a majestic display of bygone craft. A small throng of examiners and early arrivals milled about, their voices a low murmur. Standing prominently at the gate, observing the hopeful aspirants with an almost predatory stillness, was Guru Badai. His long, black robes, embroidered with silver lightning bolts, seemed to absorb the tropical sunlight rather than reflect it. A thin, elegant man with eyes like polished obsidian, Guru Badai was renowned as one of Puncak Langit’s most astute and demanding instructors. He held a peculiar, ornate focus in his hand, a smooth piece of polished obsidian set with a single, pulsing scarlet gem. As Guntur and Intan approached, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran through the gem. Guru Badai’s gaze, previously sweeping over the crowd, snapped to the distant, lingering dust cloud where the rockslide had been. A flicker of intense interest, quickly masked, crossed his face. “Intan Cahaya,” Guru Badai’s voice was a silken whisper that nonetheless cut through the ambient noise, drawing the attention of those nearby. “And… a new face, I presume?” His eyes, cold and sharp, assessed Guntur from head to toe. Bolo, sensing the shift in atmosphere, bristled slightly on Guntur’s shoulder, a low growl rumbling in its chest. Guntur, ever cheerful, simply offered a wide grin and a small bow. “Guntur Perkasa, honorable Guru! It’s an honor to meet you!” Intan stepped forward, her respect for Guru Badai warring with her concern. “Guru, there’s something peculiar about Guntur’s abilities. He just…” Guru Badai raised a hand, cutting her off with a dismissive, almost paternal smile. “Ah, Intan, Intan. Already concerned about your competition, are we? It is natural for a top aspirant to feel a pang of jealousy when a raw talent emerges. But rivalry is a crucible for greatness, my dear. Do not let it cloud your judgment.” His gaze, however, lingered on Guntur, a calculating glint deep within his dark eyes. The stone in his grip pulsed again, a little stronger this time. Intan’s lips pressed into a thin line. Jealousy? She was genuinely concerned. But she knew better than to argue with Guru Badai in front of other students. She bowed curtly, her frustration simmering. Guru Badai then turned his full attention to Guntur, his smile widening, becoming almost charming. “Guntur Perkasa, you say? Your grandfather, Sesepuh Perkasa, was a legend. I sense a unique latent power within you, a raw, untamed force. It reminds me of the wild currents of the Sungai Harimau.” He paused, allowing his words to sink in. “The Puncak Langit exam is rigorous. Many fall. But with the right guidance, even the wildest river can carve a magnificent canyon. I find myself… intrigued by your gifts, young Guntur.” Guntur puffed out his chest, flattered. “Really? You think so, Guru Badai? Grandfather always said I just needed to hit harder!” “Indeed,” Badai purred, the amulet in his hand giving a faint, hungry thrum. “Hitting harder is a philosophy I can appreciate. Tell you what, Guntur. I will take you under my wing, personally, for a preliminary assessment. Consider it an exclusive mentorship, to ensure your… unique talents are properly nurtured for the upcoming trials. Intan, you may proceed with the general registration.” Intan watched, teeth grinding softly, as Guntur beamed with excitement. He seemed to have no grasp of the implications of such an offer, nor the subtle menace that Intan perceived beneath Guru Badai’s smooth words. Before she could protest, Guru Badai gently but firmly steered Guntur away from the main gate, leading him down a less-traveled, winding path that skirted the base of the academy islands. Bolo, still on Guntur’s shoulder, looked back at Intan with wide, curious eyes, then chirped reassuringly at Guntur. “Don’t worry, little guy, Guru Badai is going to help me hit even harder!” Guntur whispered to Bolo, oblivious. The path soon opened into a secluded, circular arena, its walls made of unadorned, dark stone that seemed to absorb all light. At its center stood a single, massive monolith, unmarked and primordial. Strange, geometric runes were subtly carved into the floor around the pillar, barely visible in the dim light. Guru Badai gestured grandly at the pillar. “This, Guntur, is a private training ground. Designed for… exceptional talents. That column is enchanted, forged from the heartwood of age-old Kayu Petir trees. It measures the raw force of a strike. Hit it, Guntur. Strike it with everything you have, with all the power you feel simmering within you. Don’t hold back. This isn’t merely a test of strength; it’s a test of spirit, of your true martial essence.” Guntur’s grin broadened. A chance to show his prowess in a private arena! This was it, his chance to impress Guru Badai and prove he belonged at the Academy. He took a deep breath, settling into a familiar stance. He wound up, his body a coiled spring, a joyous determination shining in his eyes. He didn’t notice the scarlet jewel in Guru Badai’s focus brightening, nor the faint activation of the runes on the arena floor. [IMPACT ENERGY EXCEEDS STRUCTURAL TOLERANCE. CRITICAL HIT MULTIPLIER: 500x. RECOMMENDATION: CEASE.] “Yes!” Guntur yelled, misinterpreting the system message as a sign of success. “It’s working!” His fist connected with the pillar. The impact wasn’t accompanied by a massive explosion as before, but a deep, resonant *thrum* that vibrated through the ground. The Kayu Petir trunk glowed with an internal, golden light, but it held. Instead of dissipating, the raw, concentrated energy from Guntur’s punch flowed downwards, channeled by the glowing runes on the floor. These runes pulsed, then dimmed, guiding the power into a single point: Guru Badai’s talisman. The scarlet jewel flared, absorbing the immense energy, then settled back into a steady, intense glow, far brighter than before. Guru Badai quickly concealed it beneath his robes, a faint, satisfied smirk gracing his lips. He clapped his hands together, the sound sharp in the contained space. “Excellent, Guntur. Simply excellent. You have great potential… to be useful.”

A Mentor's Interest