The view in front of Lestari was neither modern nor the courtyard of Prambanan Temple that she knew, though at that moment she was standing on a platform made of black stone, similar to the stone used to construct Prambanan Temple.
One thing for sure, Lestari found herself in an open space with a lot of people. Down below was a field. Men, women, and children surrounded the rectangular field, some sitting and some standing.
Again, the women were topless ...
so were the men.
Hundreds of people were gathered there, yet the atmosphere was very quiet. The only noises ....
Wus
A slender but muscular guy jumped into the air. His feet swept through the thin air right above his opponent's head.
Plak
A stocky man with muscles as hard as copper blocked the attack with her forearm. The clash of flesh produced a solid sound, showing how hard their muscles had been forged over the years.
Thud
In a narrow gap, the stocky man managed to push in and slam his shoulder into his opponent's stomach. The slender guy was thrown backwards, but he quickly did a backflip and stood up straight again, his breath coming in short bursts.
Grrr
Low growls escaped their throats as they faced each other again in a low stance.
There were no cheers from the audience, only looks of awe at their strength.
The tension in the arena peaked when the stocky man attempted one last crushing blow. However, the slender guy seemed to have read the move.
Wus
With a very smooth movement, the slender guy lowered his body, avoiding his opponent's deadly punch. When the stocky man lost his balance due to his own momentum, the slender guy quickly snuck under his armpit.
Krak
The slender guy locked the stocky man's wrists, then with one precise hip toss, the stocky man's body slammed into the ground.
Thud
Dust flew high as the stocky man's back hit the red dirt hard.
Before the stocky man could recover, the slender guy pressed his chest with his right elbow and pressed his neck with his left index and middle fingers.
Grrr
The stocky man groaned. His previously fierce face was now red and the veins on his forehead stood out as if they were about to burst. He punched the ground with his free hand, a sign of surrender. His great strength was powerless against the perfect lock technique.
The slender guy didn't leave the stocky man right away. He stared coldly at him, making sure that his defeat was really sunk into his bones, before finally turning to face the platform and jumping forward.
The stocky man laid on his back, his lungs heaving irregularly. The defeat of the seemingly invincible man sent a wave of deeper silence throughout the arena. Two men equipped with spears stepped into the arena and carried the stocky man out, to who knows where.
After they left, the winner of the competition knelt on one knee and bowed his head.
"Wujang, pangaran ko sapa?"
[Translation: Young man, what is your name?].
Soon, a masculine, deep voice was heard. The voice came from a middle-aged man sitting on a wooden chair to Lestari's right. She had no idea who the man was. After exiting the golden door, no information flowed into her consciousness. Fortunately, she was still blessed with the ability to understand the ancient Javanese language spoken by the man.
"Sunana angahuri patanyaning Rahadyan sanghulun ring pinaka nghulun. Barngaran Bandung Bandawasa pinaka nghulun," replied the competition winner with his head still bowed.
[Translation: Allow this subject to answer your question, my Master. This subject name is Bandung Bandawasa.].
As soon as the name came out of the slender guy's mouth in the middle of the arena, the atmosphere around Lestari seemed to freeze. Her heart felt like it stopped beating.
Bandung Bandawasa, that name was like an iron hammer smashed on Lestari's consciousness, triggering the pain in her chest, which she had recently felt due to a dagger stabbed into her heart in her previous life.
That name was no longer just a character in the legend of Prambanan Temple, which was often told by tour guides at the temple. For Lestari, the man with that name was the embodiment of her god of death.
'Why am I entering the legend of Prambanan Temple again? Why do I have to meet Bandung Bandawasa again?!' Lestari's mind screamed in panic.
Lestari glanced at the middle-aged man beside her. He sat with extraordinary dignity. Although his hair had turned white and several wrinkles marked his face, his muscles were still well-defined. It was clear that he was not an ordinary person. Her focus, however, quickly returned to the young man kneeling in the middle of the arena.
Bandung Bandawasa down there was very different from Bandawasa who had killed her. The guy was slender and his voice was still bright, indicating that he was still a teenager, and there was a pure determination and blind devotion in his eyes.
He was Bandung Bandawasa before he took the lives of Lestari and Rara Jonggrang,
before he built temples,
before he built a well,
before he raped Rara Jonggrang,
before he was discovered as the son of King Pengging, King Damar Maya, who disappeared as a baby,
before he became Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Baka,
before he became Rara Jonggrang's guard,
when he was still an ordinary soldier.
He was Bandung Bandawasa when the story had just begun.
Lestari clenched her fingers.
'If he is Bandung Bandawasa, then I am Rara Jonggrang and the middle-aged man to my right must be King Baka. If this is the beginning of everything, then I have truly been drawn into this legend to—'
Before Lestari could think further, in a calm tone, but with undeniable authority, Ratu Baka beside her asked, "Gelem nora yan prajurit anwam kwi angdadi prajurit Rajakumari?"
[Translation: Would the young soldier become the Crown Princess's soldier?].
Although King Baka did not explicitly mention the subject he was asking to and did not look at Lestari, she knew that he was asking her.
'I'm not a crazy lady who will recruit my executioner as my guard!'
A strong wave of rejection surged in Lestari's chest. She was about to open her mouth, intending to say a firm NO! to make King Baka keep Bandung Bandawasa away from her.
Something terrible happened, instead.
Lestari's lips moved on their own, as if pulled by invisible threads, and a gentle, elegant, yet cold voice, reminiscent of a true princess, suddenly came out of her mouth, "Matur atarima sih Rajapitri."
[Translation: Thank you, Royal Father.].