​👑 Chapter 21: The Hero on the Road​Erik's point of view.
​It was a peaceful morning in Ifugao, only three days had passed since I last saw Hiyas—the mysterious enchantress who had been guiding me on my mission as a hero.
​The sun was scorching high above, beating down on the dry earth beneath my feet as I walked along the road, carrying a sack of carrots weighing over ten kilos.
​A four-kilometer journey to the next village was no joke, especially under the intense heat that felt like fire kissing my skin, but I needed to sell.
​My family needed the money, and even though I was chosen as the sugo of Ada Sid-Alwa, the life of a farmer does not pause—not even for a hero like me.
​The stillness of the surroundings eased my fatigue—the trees whispered in the breeze, the birds sang their melodies, and the fields stretched out like a green carpet at the foot of the mountains. But as I walked, a sudden unease gripped my chest, as if unseen eyes were watching me. I didn't need to look back to know who it was.
​Her presence was like a gust of wind—cold, powerful, and inexplicable.
​Hiyas, the name I had given her, came from her beauty, which shimmered like a gem of nature, though her eyes sometimes concealed a depth scarier than any enemy, and far more dangerous.
​"Erik, son of Ifugao, you are walking too slowly. How will you finish your selling at that pace?" Her voice echoed behind me, melodious but laced with mockery.
​I froze, nearly dropping the sack of carrots. Turning around, I saw her standing there, dressed in a flowing white garment that billowed like clouds, barefoot despite the burning hot road. In her hand, she held a thin staff, and there was a lollipop in her mouth.
​"Hiyas, why are you here again?" I asked, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. "It's only been two days since... you know. Didn't you say you'd give me time to rest from my hero duties so I could earn some money?"
​She smiled, a grin that was both breathtaking and unnerving. "Rest? Does a hero of the Philippines have time to rest when his country cries for help?"
​"But I am still selling, and I need to sell these carrots fast," I replied.
​"Erik, you are no ordinary farmer. You are the Sugo ng Ifugao, chosen by Ada Sid-Alwa. You are a hero, and your time is not for those carrots."
​I sighed deeply. "The way you talk, it seems like you have a new task for me," I said, observing her determined expression and slightly smirking face. A shiver of dread, all too familiar, crawled over my body.
​I remembered the times she had dropped me from the sky, the time she tossed me into a car like a ragdoll. The terrifying memories of those moments continued to haunt me.
​"Hiyas, I need to live. I can't eat 'freedom' or pay the Spanish taxes with your so-called 'mission.' Besides, didn't you say I could manage my own time?"
​She moved closer, her steps vibrant, almost like a dance over the ground, and stared at me until our noses were almost touching. The scent of earth and flowers enveloped me, and her eyes—as deep as the ocean—seemed to pierce my soul. I'll admit I'm often nervous around her whenever she's planning something because I know she can do many things I can't stop, but I can't deny there's something strange about her presence whenever our bodies are close. A presence so pure that my whole body feels it.
​"Erik, you were chosen because you have a heart willing to sacrifice. Would you truly choose these carrots over helping those in need?" Her voice was gentle, but every word hit my chest like a hammer.
​"It's not like that," I defended myself, thinking of a way to plead with her. "But it's only been three days, Hiyas. Can't I have seven days to rest first from missions? And honestly, you look... bored. Are you doing this just to keep yourself occupied?"
​Her smile widened as she stood before me with her hands on her hips, her short laughter escaping her lips like music. "Hahaha. Bored? Me, a goddess, you think I'm bored?"
​Suddenly, she slapped my head with her thin staff, and her face soured as if she were pouting. "I am here, helping you become a hero for your countrymen, and you think I'm just ordering you around because I'm bored?"
​She pouted and shook her head as if hurt by my words, so I quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
​To appease her, I agreed to her wishes. I let myself be persuaded to follow what she wanted again. I sighed before listening to her; moments later, she was explaining what she wanted me to do. "I've met another sugo, just like you—a Filipino hero," she said.
​I paused. Another sugo? After what happened to Alfredo, the word "sugo" brought fear and pain inside me. But a part of my mind was also excited. I was happy to know that there were others like me, a hero fighting for the country. "Who is she? What is she doing?" I asked, my curiosity slowly overpowering my fatigue.
​"They call her Hustisya (Justice)," Hiyas replied, playfully twirling her thin staff. "A female vigilante, famous in the town of Plaridel for punishing evildoers—Spanish or Filipino. She ensures that the abusive, the thieves, and the corrupt officials are punished. Not unlike you, Ifugao, she is a savior of the oppressed. But…" A heaviness came into her voice, and her eyes sparked with a warning. "There's a problem," Hiyas stated.
​"A problem? What is it?" I asked.
​"She cannot see me," Hiyas answered.
​She explained again that the sugo, chosen by their enchantresses, could usually see beings like her because we can feel the energy that comes from nature, unless they are no longer given the protection of the enchantress who granted their powers.
​"Does that mean she's doing something wrong?" I asked.
​"I'm not sure, but one thing is certain—she is violating her agreement with her enchantress. I want you to find out why her enchantress no longer favors her," Hiyas said earnestly.
​"I have no idea how, but regardless, she is still a Filipino hero who might be led astray by desperation or personal motives, just like your friend Alfredo," she added.
​I suddenly stopped when I heard Alfredo's name again, my memory of him making me anxious. The memory of his death, the memory of his blood smeared on my hands, suddenly came back to my mind. I couldn't bear to see another sugo led astray by wrongdoing that could have been avoided.
​"I understand, but may I ask, Hiyas—why me? Why don't you investigate her? You said you are an enchantress, surely you are more powerful than me, right?" I said.
​The area fell silent for a moment as she stared at me with her cold gaze.
​"Because you are Ifugao, and I am only an observer," she replied, her staff tapping the ground softly.
​"Huh? I don't get your point," I said.
​She suddenly hit my head with her thin staff and admitted that it wasn't her role to help others. "You are the hero and not me, so that is your job, and not mine."
​"Your mission is not only to fight the Spanish but to save those who have lost their way, just as you did with Alfredo. Listen, Erik, I believe you can save her, and you are the only one who can do it." Her words pierced through me, even though I didn't want to admit it to myself, I wanted to save and help someone as a way to redeem Alfredo's life, which I failed to save.
​I sighed deeply, placing the sack of carrots on the ground. "Alright, Hiyas. I'll go to Plaridel. But after this, you'll give me one month's rest to sell carrots, okay?" I joked, even though I knew she wouldn't agree.
​"One month? That's too long of a rest—I might die of boredom waiting!" she teased.
​"Aha! I knew it. You are doing this because you are bored with your life. Don't you have any hobbies besides ordering me around to entertain you?" I whispered.
​She hit me with her staff again, admonishing me not to complain and to be grateful that I was guided by a nature enchantress like her.
​I picked up the sack of carrots, determined to sell them quickly so I could start my mission. Plaridel was my next destination, and though I was exhausted, my heart was ready to fight again.
​"Hustisya," I whispered to myself. "I hope you are a true hero, not another Alfredo who completely strayed down the path of evil."
​End of point of view.
​The night in Plaridel was quiet and normal, though many of its streets were cloaked in darkness. Near the town center, around the church, it was the uncertain hour of the night when shops were closing, and people were rushing home before the guardia civil patrols began.
​But behind a large mercantile house, a strange scene unfolded. A group of criminals—three Filipinos and two policemen—had gathered in a dark alley, waiting to divide their stolen taxes from the town.
​"Are you sure no one will see us, Juan?" asked a Spaniard, his hand on his sword, as he surveyed the surroundings. His Filipino accomplice, Juan, nodded, though his eyes hid anxiety.
​"Don't worry, señor. The people here are too afraid of your guns. No one will dare speak up even if they see something."
​But before the Spaniard could answer, a cold gust of wind struck, and the flame of their lampara (lantern) suddenly died. "What's happening?" whispered another one of their police colleagues, as he clutched his gun. Darkness suddenly enveloped the surroundings, and a faint laugh—melodious, like a woman's—echoed around them.
​"Wait, do you hear that? Who is laughing?"
​"Who is that?" the Spaniard shouted, but a sudden rush of air was felt. A rope, seemingly alive, tightened around his wrists, forcing him to his knees. "Ay, Dios mio! What is happening?" he yelled, as his sword fell to the ground.
​"Greedy thieves, you are ruining this beautiful night with your avarice for money that is not yours," a woman's voice echoed, vibrant and mixed with mockery. In the darkness, a shadow emerged—its form indistinct, but its eyes glowed like stars. Moments later, Hustisya, the vigilante of Plaridel, appeared as if from the air, now standing before them, wearing her white mask with an engraved symbol as a sign of her presence.
​"The ghost of Bulacan!" shouted another criminal, who immediately ran and tried to escape, but before he could get away, the ground seemed to grab his feet with a rope that coiled around his body, throwing him into a post on the side of the street. "Have mercy, don't kill me. I beg you!" he pleaded.
​The objects around them—crates, barrel, even stones—suddenly moved, seemingly guided by an invisible hand, pushing the criminals towards each other.
​"Forgive us, señora, whoever you are!" shouted Juan, raising his hands. "I didn't mean to! The Spanish forced us—you know we had no choice but to follow!"
​But Hustisya only laughed, her form vanishing like smoke into the air. In an instant, she reappeared behind the Spaniard, her hand clutching his neck with a grip tighter than expected, nearly lifting him off the ground.
​"You didn't mean to? But you stole the town's money, didn't you?" she asked, her voice tinged with anger, though her smile hinted that she was only playing. "People like you are why Plaridel suffers." She released the Spaniard, who fell, gasping for breath, as his colleagues tried to flee.
​"Do you really think you can escape from Hustisya?"
​But Hustisya did not let them get away. Her form vanished again, and in the blink of an eye, one of the criminals froze, his eyes turning white, as if possessed by a spirit.
​"What is happening? I can't move my body!" he screamed, as his own hand moved uncontrollably, punching his colleague. Using her power, Hustisya possessed him to control his body.
​"Isn't this fun?" she asked, still inside the criminal's body, kicking and punching his colleagues. The ropes, meanwhile, continued to move, tying the criminals to the post, while Hustisya floated in the air, her laughter like music in the night.
​"This is what thieves like you deserve." Her movements were like a dance—a mix of karate, acrobatics, and strange ghost-like abilities. Every kick was powerful, every punch struck accurately, and her grip was enough to crush the bones of an ordinary person.
​They were hopeless in a battle where Hustisya seemed to be merely playing against them. Despite their pleas, she continued her punishment.
​"Have mercy! I'll return the money!" shouted the last policeman, dropping the sack of stolen money in front of her. But Hustisya, now in her own form, shook her head. They saw a young woman with pink hair, draped in a red cloak, her face covered by a white mask with the letter "H" etched on the forehead.
​"You became greedy and took advantage of others. You must be punished, and I, Hustisya, will deliver your verdict," she declared. In an instant, she subdued the criminals, taking their stolen money. She placed the bag of money on the ground, and a red mask with an inscription appeared on the crate—a symbol of her success in delivering justice.
​Just then, the sound of horses and the shouts of the guardia civil echoed from a distance. "Find Hustisya!" shouted a Spanish police officer, holding his gun. But Hustisya only laughed, her form dissolving into the air, leaving behind the tied-up criminals, the stolen money, and the red mask engraved as a sign of her victory.
​Hustisya's battle did not end with just tying up the criminals. As the guardia civil approached, a larger group of Spanish police—ten of them, armed with guns and swords—arrived in the alley. Their lampara illuminated the darkness. In their midst was Kapitan Lorenzo (Captain Lorenzo), a Spanish official known for his cruelty towards Filipinos.
​"Where are you, Hustisya? Show yourself, and I'll make you a real ghost!" he shouted, raising his espada.
​"Well, you are very brave to challenge justice," her voice echoed around them. In response, a sudden flight of objects in the air startled the police, and their lampara simultaneously went out. "Kapitan, our lampara died!"
​Darkness returned to the alley, and Hustisya's laughter echoed around, louder and more challenging. "Abusive Spanish, you fat crocodiles preying on Filipinos—tonight, you will taste your punishment!" she declared. In a flash, the guns of two police officers floated from their hands, tossed away like toys.
​"Shoot her!" Kapitan Lorenzo shouted, but before his men could move, a policeman froze, his eyes turning white.
​"What is happening? I can't move my body!" he screamed, as his arm moved uncontrollably, punching his colleague. Hustisya possessed another one of them again and used the man's body to fight the other police. She jumped between them to beat up the guardia civil.
​The battle descended into chaos. Moments later, Hustisya floated in the air, her form vanishing and reappearing above the alley, seemingly playing. "How does it feel to be played with? Are you starting to feel the suffering you inflicted on the Filipinos?"
​Her kicks struck like crashing vehicles and sent the police flying, their bones breaking from her intense strength. Her punches landed accurately, and one kick was enough to bring even the strongest policeman to his knees.
​"Did you think that the people you were hurting also pleaded, but you didn't stop," she shouted, as a barrel floated and crashed down on three soldiers.
​"Do you know that old man you beat up couldn't work for three days because of you? I won't kill you, but I will cripple you just as you did to your Filipino victims." The police officers writhed in pain, some with broken limbs from Hustisya's relentless attack.
​Kapitan Lorenzo, though terrified, refused to surrender. "Use the anito!" he shouted, pulling a small statue from his pocket that glowed with a dark aura. The Gaia sword, a Spanish weapon in Plaridel, contained a crystal that strengthened its blade; every swing released electric shocks strong enough to paralyze a person. "You can't escape now, ghost!" he yelled, swinging his sword toward Hustisya.
​"Hahaha, do you think you can catch me with that?"
​Hustisya laughed, her form vanishing before the blade could strike. In a flash, she appeared behind Lorenzo, her arm wrapped around his neck.
​"You are too arrogant, Kapitan. I want you to understand that no one can defeat me," she whispered, tightening her chokehold until the Spaniard fell, gasping for breath and eventually losing consciousness.
​Even though she punished them, she did not kill them—that was not her purpose tonight. Her form faded like a ghost as the kapitan collapsed. Due to the kapitan's defeat, his men panicked, aiming their guns and swords in all directions.
​"Don't worry, señores," Hustisya said, floating in the middle of the alley. "The town's money will return to the town. And you... you will pay for your sins." In a flash, the ropes moved again, hoisting the soldiers onto the posts, while the stolen money and jewelry were left in the street, marked by the red mask as proof of her victory.
​As the guardia civil tried to chase Hustisya, her laughter faded into the air, and her form completely disappeared. The people of Plaridel, secretly watching from their windows, whispered to each other.
​"Hustisya has come again!" said an old man, his eyes full of hope.
​"She is the one who brings us true justice."
​"Thanks to her, we are avenged against the abusive Spanish,"
​"Only Hustisya can deliver justice against the Spanish demons. She understands us, she listens to our cries."
​The name of Hustisya echoed louder throughout Bulacan. From the villages to the town centers, her deeds became legend—the ghost-like vigilante, the woman who played while delivering justice. Her red mask became a symbol of hope for the oppressed, but for the Spanish and corrupt officials, it was a sign of threat and fear.
​News about her spread, despite the Spanish efforts to suppress it, amplified by modern means like the internet.
​Meanwhile, Erik prepared for his journey to Plaridel, now at a different house, talking to an acquaintance, as he handed a sack of carrots to a friend in the village.
​"I need to hurry to start my mission," he thought. Hiyas's words came back to his mind: "Find out who Hustisya is and help her do what is right." In his heart, Erik was full of hope that he would meet another hero of the country, but Hiyas's warning about her possible disobedience to her enchantress caused anxiety in the young man.
​"What kind of hero is Hustisya?" he whispered to himself, as he walked on the road.
​End of chapter.
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