Randu Alas Forest, Trowulan border — Year 1297 AD
The crescent moon shimmered on wet leaves. The sound of crickets and a trickling stream filled the night. In the darkness, several figures in black cloaks sat in a circle.
Standing before them was a seventeen-year-old young man, with eyes that carried the weight of someone far older.
Eza.A name that had begun circulating in Majapahit's underworld —The "Shadow of Mount Lawu."
🌘 The Midnight Pact
A stout old man stepped forward.He had once been a spice trader from the port of Tuban — now a weapons smuggler for rebels in the east.
"You want us to trust a seventeen-year-old boy?" he scoffed."You know who controls the underground market in Trowulan? They answer to the Eastern Shadow. One wrong move, and our heads will hang at the harbor gates."
Eza stared back sharply, but without anger.
He lowered his hood and spoke calmly:"You've all seen it yourselves.Yes, they're powerful — but they're directionless.They hoard gold but don't know how to wield it.They buy loyalty with blood, not belief.I don't want to be like them."
He stepped forward."I promise you no wealth. I offer only one thing: freedom.Freedom from the chains of shadow rulers who treat us like puppets."
Silence fell.
Dara Wening stood beside him, her eyes soft yet piercing as she scanned the gathering.
"If you choose to leave, you may go now. But if you remain seated tonight, you've chosen to stand for a future under one name."
"What name?" someone asked from the back.
Eza looked into the campfire in the center of the circle.
"The Eastern Soul Circle.Not an organization. Not a cult.Just people who refuse to let fear rule the world."
That night, twelve people swore an oath —the first oath in the history of the Eastern Soul Circle.
⚔️ First Trial: Mission in Trowulan
Months later, Eza and his three most trusted allies — Dara, Wirya, and a young metalsmith named Suranegara — infiltrated Majapahit's capital.
Their mission:To steal secret trade documents detailing transactions between foreign merchants from Champa and a Majapahit noble covertly funding a Chinese shadow faction.
At night, Trowulan was like two cities:Above — torchlit streets, gamelan music, lavish banquets.Below — dark tunnels filled with laborers, thieves, and spies who traded secrets for a handful of gold.
Eza led the group, dressed simply, his face half-covered by cloth.
"Dara, is the eastern route clear?""Still safe. But we must move. Patrols have doubled tonight.""Suranegara, your tools ready?""Always, young master."
They stopped before a massive stone door beneath a spice warehouse.From the outside, it looked ordinary. But if you looked closely — a faint glow between the stones.
A sign of a Soul Energy Barrier.
"Raka once said," Eza whispered, "no power is unbreakable — only misdirected."
He raised his hand, pressing his palm to the stone.His soul vibrated softly, syncing with the current inside the wall.
Then — click
The wall cracked open slowly, revealing a hidden room filled with chests and scrolls.
"Quick, take everything marked with the five-eye sigil."
But as they finished, footsteps echoed.Ten black-clad soldiers emerged from the shadows — led by a tall man in a purple cloak.
"I thought you died on Lawu, boy.""You...""Yes," the man smiled coldly."I was Raka's eldest student.Now, I serve the Rulers of Asia directly."
🌑 Battle Beneath the City
The fight erupted instantly.Soul energies clashed, stones trembled, the air grew hot and heavy.
Eza spun, deflecting attacks with Raka's heirloom kris, while Dara and Wirya fought three soldiers nearby.
The man in purple laughed coldly."You think your childish ideals can change the world?"
"No," Eza replied calmly."I'll change the world with a truth that terrifies even rulers like you."
A flash of white light burst from his hands —Heaven's Soul Wave, the technique he once used in the market, now stronger than ever.
The walls cracked, the ground shook, and the shadow soldiers were flung like dry leaves in a storm.
The purple-cloaked man blocked the final strike, but his body slammed into the wall — and did not rise again.
Dara rushed over, breathing heavily."We have to go. The kingdom will sense our presence soon."
"Grab that scroll," Eza said, pointing to one last parchment on the floor."That's their secret."
🜂 The Scroll of the Five Eyes
Days later, in their mountain hideout, Eza unrolled the scroll.
It was more than a trade record — it was a map of Southeast Asia's power structure.Port names, spice routes, even secret codes for gold shipments from distant kingdoms.
Dara stared in silence."With this... you could control half the southern sea's economy."
"Not yet," Eza said. "I'm not ready.But this... is the first step."
He folded the scroll, eyes fixed to the east.
"One day, I won't just be a shadow.I'll be the hand that writes history."
🌕 A Sign from the Sky
Weeks later, amid a heavy downpour, Eza meditated atop Mount Lawu's cliffs.
Suddenly, his black pendant glowed brightly.A shadow flickered in his vision — Raka's figure.
"Eza..." the voice echoed deep and slow."The truth you seek is closer than you think."
"Master... who killed you? Who burned the monastery?"
"The Shadow Rulers of Asia. But don't hate him.This world needs balance.You'll understand in time."
Eza bowed his head.Rain mixed with tears.
"I will move forward, Master.Until the world bows to the light you once lit."
🌑 End of Chapter 2 – The Shadow Realm
As the rain faded, Dara arrived with a dry cloak.
"Are you ready?""Always," Eza replied.
"Where are we going next?"
"To the east. To the sea.We need to see how the world spins... before we turn it ourselves."
He gazed at the horizon.
Beyond the mist and rain, the first rays of sunlight broke through.
Here began a new legend —Not from palaces.Not from kings.
But from the ruins of a monastery, guarded by the last child who survived it.
"I am Eza of Lawu," he whispered."And this is the beginning of the Shadow Realm."