Chapter 10: The Mark of Mastery
The dawn on Kinabalu Peak was serene, the jungle bathed in a soft golden light as the mist began to lift, revealing the rugged beauty of the mountain. Rentap Buana stood in the clearing. His tattered green shirt was barely more than scraps now, clinging to his scarred frame—gashes from the tiger hunt, bruises from sparring with Kael, and fresh wounds from the jungle's wrath. The faint claw mark on his arm, a gift from the *Claw Path*, glowed softly, a testament to Kinabalu's favor. Mira's coral pendant pulsed warm against his chest, her memory a steady flame that had carried him through every trial. The fisherman's knife at his belt and the staff in his hand were his trusted companions, the *Jungle Stalk*, *Tiger Claw Slash*, *Leaping Fang Strike*, and *Feral Roar Strike* now second nature after weeks of relentless training. Guru Harimau Jati stood before him, his scarred frame radiating a quiet intensity, his tiger pelt cloak catching the light. "You've come far, boy," he said, his voice a low growl. "Today, you face the final trial of Phase 1—the *Mark of Mastery*."
Rentap's heart pounded, the flame within him—the fire that had grown through each challenge—burning brighter, eager to prove itself. "What's the trial?" he asked, gripping the staff, his body coiled with anticipation.
Harimau Jati's eyes glinted, sharp as a predator's. "Kinabalu demands a final test to mark you as a true student of Tiger Martial Art. You'll face me in combat—everything you've learned, everything you are, against the master of this mountain." He dropped into a low stance, his staff raised, his presence overwhelming, like a tiger ready to strike. "Survive, and you'll earn the *Mark of Mastery*. Fail, and you leave the mountain—unworthy."
Rentap swallowed hard, the pendant warm against his skin, Mira's giggle a quiet encouragement. He dropped into a stance, the *Jungle Stalk* guiding his movements as he prepared to face the guru. The flame within him surged, a fire born of loss, pain, and unyielding resolve. "I won't fail," he said, his voice steady, though his hands trembled with the weight of the moment.
Harimau Jati nodded, a rare flicker of respect in his gaze. "Begin."
The fight erupted with a ferocity Rentap hadn't anticipated. Harimau Jati moved like a storm, his staff a blur as he unleashed a *Tiger Claw Slash*, the sweeping strike aimed at Rentap's chest. Rentap dodged, using the *Jungle Stalk* to slip to the side, and countered with a *Leaping Fang Strike*, leaping forward to drive his staff into the guru's shoulder. Harimau Jati deflected it with a flick of his staff, his movements fluid, almost effortless, and followed with a *Feral Roar Strike*, a roar tearing from his chest as his staff slammed toward Rentap's ribs. Rentap twisted, the blow grazing him, and struck back with a *Tiger Claw Slash*, the staff cracking against Harimau Jati's arm. The guru didn't flinch, his strength overwhelming as he pressed the attack, each strike a lesson in power and precision.
The clearing became a battlefield, the stone pillars bearing witness as Rentap fought for his life. Harimau Jati's mastery of Tiger Martial Art was on full display—his *Leaping Fang Strike* soared with deadly grace, his *Feral Roar Strike* shook the ground, and his *Jungle Stalk* made him a ghost, appearing and vanishing in the dappled light. Rentap's body screamed with every move, his wounds reopening, blood seeping through his shirt, but he refused to yield. Mira's scream echoed in his mind—*Brother, fight!*—and he roared, unleashing a *Feral Roar Strike* of his own, the staff whipping through the air with a force that surprised even Harimau Jati. The blow struck the guru's thigh, forcing him to step back, but he recovered instantly, his eyes glinting with approval.
"You've got fire, boy," Harimau Jati growled, lunging with a *Tiger Claw Slash* that Rentap barely dodged, the staff grazing his shoulder, drawing fresh blood. Rentap used the *Jungle Stalk* to weave through the clearing, striking from angles the guru didn't expect—a *Leaping Fang Strike* from the side, a *Tiger Claw Slash* from behind. Each hit was a testament to his growth, the flame within him burning brighter, a fire that matched the guru's ferocity. But Harimau Jati was relentless, his strikes growing fiercer, his roars shaking the jungle as he tested Rentap's limits.
The fight stretched on, Rentap's body pushed beyond exhaustion, his vision blurring with sweat and pain. In a final clash, Harimau Jati unleashed a *Feral Roar Strike*, the staff slamming toward Rentap's chest with a force that could shatter bone. Rentap reacted on instinct, the *Jungle Stalk* guiding him as he slipped to the side, and countered with his own *Feral Roar Strike*, the flame within him surging as he roared, the staff striking Harimau Jati's ribs with a crack that echoed through the clearing. The guru staggered, his staff lowering, and for the first time, he smiled—a true smile, fierce and proud.
"Enough," Harimau Jati said, raising a hand, his chest heaving. "You've earned it." He knelt, pulling a small flint knife from his belt, and carved a shallow mark into Rentap's other arm—a tiger's claw, its lines glowing briefly before fading into a scar. "The *Mark of Mastery*," he said, his voice gruff but warm. "You're a student of Tiger Martial Art now, a cub no longer. Kinabalu has claimed you, and you've claimed its lessons."
Rentap collapsed to his knees, panting, blood dripping from his wounds, the flame within him burning steady, a fire that had proven itself. He clutched Mira's pendant, her memory sharper than ever—her giggle, her scream, her hazel eyes full of trust. "I did it, Mira," he whispered, tears mixing with the sweat on his face. Harimau Jati placed a hand on his shoulder, a rare gesture of camaraderie. "Rest now," he said. "Phase 1 is complete. But your path is just beginning. Taming Jiwa waits, and the trials ahead will make this seem like child's play."
That evening, Rentap sat by the fire, the tiger pelt wrapped around him, his wounds bandaged but throbbing. The stone pillars loomed, their carvings glinting in the firelight, as if acknowledging his new status. The *Mark of Mastery* on his arm felt alive, a quiet promise of the power he would one day wield. The flame within him glowed, a step closer to Taming Jiwa, though its whispers remained faint, a distant call on the path ahead.