Chapter 21: Shadows Across the Pines
Three black shadows darted swiftly through the darkness of the night, weaving through the dense forest of Lingkar Pinus Village. The cold wind cut through the trees like knives, rustling leaves into eerie whispers that carried warnings from a world unseen. Branches cracked under unseen weight. The full moon peered through drifting mist, casting pale light on the silent race of three giant rats—each the size of a grown man.
Despite their monstrous forms, the rats moved with the grace of predators born in shadow. Their fur shimmered darkly, muscles rippling beneath. One had a scar across its snout. Another had a notch in its ear. But it was the smallest—short, stocky, eyes gleaming like burning coals—that led with eerie intelligence.
Ghostly beings lurked in the trees. Some crawled on all fours like feral beasts, their limbs bending in unnatural angles. Others hovered, wailing softly, translucent faces twisted in eternal torment. The forest was alive with spirits—but none could stop the rats.
They moved like a pack trained for war. One distracted, darting left to scatter the ghosts. Another held the line, locking a phantom in its crushing jaws. The leader surged ahead, unstoppable. They were not just rats—they were soldiers with a mission.
Suddenly, the lead scout—a much smaller black rat—squeaked a signal and veered toward a thick bramble. The others followed.
Within a natural ring of trees stood a towering mahogany, ancient and wide-trunked. Its roots twisted like claws gripping the earth. The air here was thick, heavy with spiritual pressure that pressed down like a giant's hand. A silence deeper than silence.
"This the place?" muttered the short rat, voice low and sharp.
The guide rat nodded once, then vanished into the darkness, its duty fulfilled.
The three rats fanned out, taking positions. The two larger ones flanked the leader. Their breath steamed in the cold air, their claws ready.
Bound to the trunk of the mahogany was a figure—human, unmoving. Their skin had lost all color, now pale and ghostly. Black energy chains slithered across their body like vipers, pulsing with dark magic. The person was still alive, but only barely.
Then, from the gloom, a deep, snarling voice echoed.
"Well, well. What do we have here? Human pets dressed as warriors?"
A monstrous figure emerged—massive, broad, covered in coarse black fur. A Genderuwo. Its yellow eyes burned with cruelty, and tusk-like fangs curled upward from its jaw. Clawed hands flexed in anticipation of blood.
The short rat bared his teeth. "Genderuwo. Low-tier Territorial class. Big mouth, little brain."
The beast roared. "Better a beast than a dog licking human boots!"
The short rat hissed. "I lick no boots. I bite throats. You? You take hostages like a coward."
Fury twisted the Genderuwo's face. With a roar, it lunged, claws outstretched. But before it could reach the short rat, the two larger rats moved—each grabbed an arm with thunderous force. The ground quaked beneath their weight.
"Get him," said the short rat coldly. "No mercy."
With a howl, they pounced.
Meanwhile, in the north…
Rendy strolled casually, hands in his jacket pockets, following the guide rat. His footsteps crunched dry leaves, and his whistling echoed unnaturally.
Beside him slithered a massive serpent with silver-white scales—Mbah Sanca, a spirit guardian older than most living memories. He glided with measured grace, eyes sharp.
"You know, Ardian always said your kind were cunning tricksters," Rendy said with a grin. "But so far, they're all bark, no bite."
Mbah Sanca didn't look at him. "Don't let your mouth outrun your sense, Ren. These woods are full of old grudges."
"I'm not worried," Rendy shrugged. "You've got the brains. I've got the fists. Classic combo."
The spirit chuckled, low and gravelly. "Hah. You actually said something wise. Miracles happen."
"Careful, Mbah. Compliments from you are rare. I might cry."
Their light banter didn't hide the tension crawling in the air. As they neared a moss-covered boulder topped by a gnarled teak tree, the ground shuddered—and something massive landed before them.
Another Genderuwo. Snarling, eyes glowing.
"Humans. Always trespassing. No manners."
Rendy smirked. "You a realtor now? This haunted forest your backyard? Show me the deed, tough guy."
The Genderuwo roared in rage and charged.
But before it could take a step, a thunderous hiss rang out. Mbah Sanca reared up, his body doubling in size. His fangs gleamed in the moonlight.
"I've got this one," the serpent said coolly.
Rendy cracked his knuckles. "You sure? I was looking forward to the warm-up."
"You'll get your warm-up. Trust me."
The fight began. Claws against scales. Fists against bone.
In the west…
"OUTTA THE WAY OR GET SMACKED! OUTTA THE WAY OR GET SMACKED!"
Mr. Poci charged like a battering ram. A ghost in white garb and a black hat, round-bellied and wild-eyed, he moved like a truck with no brakes. Spirits flew in all directions, screeching in surprise.
One phantom tried to stop him.
Mistake.
WHAM. Gone.
His signature chant echoed through the woods like an oncoming storm. Ghosts ran. Trees shook.
Behind him trailed a wake of chaos.
And in the south…
Ardian sat calmly atop a mossy rock, legs crossed. Around him lay dozens of fading spirits—defeated, groaning, vanishing into smoke.
He took a drag from his cigarette. The ember glowed.
But his mind was elsewhere.
The words of the old books echoed in his mind: "There were once two kinds of spirits—those who guided and those who guarded. They lived in peace with humans. Until something poisoned them."
Ardian narrowed his eyes.
"If that dwarf old-man was their real leader... then who sowed the seeds of hate?"
A shift in the air cut through his thoughts.
A new presence. Thick. Ancient. Dangerous.
From the mist emerged a colossal figure—fur like a Genderuwo, but darker, coarser. Horns curled from its head like a ram. Fire pulsed from its chest, licking its shoulders. Eyes glowed like molten lava.
Horn... sign of a Demon.
Ardian stood. Tossed his cigarette. Cracked his neck.
"A Warlord-class, I'd assume," he muttered. "Someone's compensating for something."
The beast rumbled, "Humans talk too much. A sign of empty heads."
Ardian grinned. "And yours is so full, it leaks fire? Cute."
The monster snorted. "You joke. But you're alone."
Ardian lifted his sigil-marked hand. "Alone? Nah. I brought the pain."
"Then bring it."
With a shout, Ardian leapt, his body glowing with sigils as he dove into a battle that would rock the entire southern forest.
Four fronts. Four warriors. One night to change everything.
In the haunted heart of Lingkar Pinus, the war had truly begun.