RICH PRANAJA HEIR TO TIRTANALA
EPS 64 GOD OFFERINGS

EPS 64 GOD OFFERINGS

The night, the fog gets thicker covering the natural surface around the Allbush mountains. The sound of groans and screams of pain was still heard from within the fog. Pranaja had asked the Village Chief to stop the attack on the creatures that appeared from within the fog. It even asked the villagers to gather the surviving battle survivors to treat.

“According to the convention of international war law, we must give the right of life to the wounded victims of war. Our obligation to care for and treat them until they recover,” he said.

Encouraged by his reluctance and indebtedness, the Village Chief told the residents to meet the demand of Chef Rich Pranaja. But they had trouble distinguishing the surviving victims and the injured because of the thick fog that blocked their visibility.

“How is Chef Rich? Their views are blocked by thick fog,” said the Village Chief.

Pranaja stood up against the thick fog. Then with a single blow, his hand was pushed forward forcefully.

“Blow Wave Wall Shadow!” his yell.

A wall of wind one meter thick moved quickly forward. Dispersing the thick fog that blocked the view of the people. Not to mention the loss of the shadowy wind power, the next wall wind blow appeared surgingly. It continued to push the thick fog that enveloped the battle arena to a distance of a hundred meters.

Now a terrible sight was opened before them. Dozens of people are dying because of severe injuries suffered. There were pierced spears, swords, machetes, scythes and even kitchen knives. Apparently the villagers were actually utilizing makeshift sharp weapons at home. There was also an attacker who died crushed by his own horse, squashed until out of breath.

“Get all those human bodies and collect them in separate places. The ones that are still alive will be taken care of. While those who have died will we purify in a good way,” exclaimed Pranaja. “I'll treat the injured. Gather them together in a sealed and tightly locked room. Grab their weapons and horses.”

The worst were the victims who entered the trap hole filled with spearheads. Their bodies with their horses could not be helped by the song. Dozens of spears roasted them from head to toe.

“Who made this trap?” ask them in your heart.

They look at each other. Then, as if on cue, they continued to look at Chef Rich Pranaja with a look of admiration. Although only guessing, but they were sure of the God of Rescue. In their hearts they called him the Youth of All Know, because of his knowledge and intelligence of his brain.

“It turns out that the young man who was with us was not a random person,” muttered them.

“He must be a descendant of a god, or at least have the power of a God,” another whispered.

Inside the sealed chamber, the heavily wounded and still alive victims of the war were gathered into one. Then Pranaja entered into it, accompanied by the astonished gazes of the villagers. What will the young man do? their inner.

“Tirtanala Power!” said slowly.

One by one he held their heads gently. Possessing their bodies with Tirtanala's soothing and healing powers. Disburses cold air that penetrates the pores of the skin, absorbed into their nerve tissue. Eliminate all pain, change the sense of comfort. Repair the injured blood cells, nerves and muscles, until they recover as before.

“Alhamdulillaahirobbil ‘alamiin,” he said slowly.

The people who were dying and almost lost their lives, turned completely healed without any visible scars. It's magical! Only one has changed. Pranaja also brainwashes them, so they forget their identity in the past and are reborn as humans with new personalities.

“You are all good people who are strong, honest, loyal, like to work hard and always do good to others and the universe. Take it well in your brain,” said Pranaja while giving suggestions to their subconscious.

“Welcome to your new world. Follow my steps,” said Pranaja.

He reopened the door of the room, then walked out followed by dozens of enemy troops who have now become friends. The villagers who had been on standby even gasped in shock, as if they could not believe their views. How could the people who had been seriously injured, suddenly turn into fit again. Not even the slightest injury?

“Greet your new friends, O citizens of Okunumenda,” said Pranaja as he raised his right hand into the air.

Instead of clapping or cheering, they sat down and prostrated in front of Pranaja.

“Oh, forgive us Mahadeva, who has been bad to you. Forgive us,” said the Village Chief while putting his face on the ground followed by other villagers.

Pranaja. He did not expect the villagers to have misunderstood him.

“Woi, Village Chief! Wake up all of you!” shouting Pranaja. “I'm not a god. I'm not as old as you. Wakeup!”

But the Village Chief did not budge. They keep cupping their faces to the ground as a form of devotion to the god they have been worshipping and worshiping.

“Alright,” says Pranaja in the end. “I am your god. Now God wants you to stand as you were.”

The village chief and the residents immediately obeyed the order. They stood up again while bowing their heads. No one dared to look ahead, afraid to look into the eyes of Pranaja. In their belief it was a great mistake, looking directly into the eyes of their god.

“Well, now welcome your new friends. Tie them up as Okunumenda's citizens. Live side by side as brothers,” said Pranaja.

Although at first somewhat hesitant, but finally they welcome the new people of his former enemy. It turned out that they were so friendly and warm, far from the impression of creatures in a brutal and cruel mist.

***

In a cold and faint black rocky cave, the Sarju witch was furious. How not, he had just heard the reports of his men about the failure of the army of creatures from within the fog to conquer the village at the top of the Allbush mountains. The poor village that almost left the residents, suddenly surprised him. Whether they got the power from where, their mysterious, powerful army could be destroyed so easily.

He then walked towards the middle of the room. His paralyzed foot next door made him have to walk around with her. His face looked so grim, depicting the anger in his heart. In the middle of the cave room was spread a large rock on top of which there was a glass box. Inside the glass box lay a young girl dressed in all white with golden hair draped lengthwise.

Arriving in front of the glass box, the magician casts spells. Slowly there was a thin smoke emerging from the black stick at the end of which was decorated with human skulls. The thin smoke slowly descended into the box and into the nostrils of the girl lying inside. Suddenly, the girls eyes opened. Anyone who sees it will feel the fur goosebumps. The two eyes of the beautiful girl dressed in all white were all black in color.

“Snow Goddess, wake up!”

Then there was laughter coming from the old wizard's mouth.