CESAGA

Gema rose, his spirit alight. "A glorious day for battle, my friends!" he declared, his voice charged with excitement.

Arthur, Lancelot, Percival, and Lamorak, noble knights of the Round Table, unsheathed their swords. A fiery aura, a testament to their unwavering courage, pulsed within their helms.

"For glory and honor!" they cried, their voices echoing across the battlefield.

The roar of the rushing water filled the air, a deafening noise that mingled with the fetid odor of corruption emanating from the Kelembai guards.

These monstrous tree creatures, possessed by a dark power, stood watch at the western gate. Their skeletal heads, adorned with long, matted black hair, and their gnarled, branch-like limbs, made them both fearsome and grotesque.

A clash of metal and splintering wood erupted as Gawain and Lamorak launched themselves at the guards, their swords biting into the creatures' tough hide.

Galahad, a silent figure in his armored suit, channeled his undying power into his sword. A verdant flame, imbued with this ethereal energy, crackled to life, illuminating the dark, damp surroundings.

The blade sliced through the air, cleaving through the guards with ease. The once-fearsome creatures withered, their dark power dispelled, returning to their original form as ordinary trees.

Panicked civilians, their faces etched with fear, huddled together, their mechanical umbrellas held high as they fled the chaos.

Zirko, the mystical creature, leaped into action, his icy breath freezing the air. Icicles shot from his fingertips, shattering rooftops and causing chaos. His aim was to distract the Darkseed's attention, allowing Purnama to slip into the tower unnoticed.

Suria and her avian knights, a fearsome formation of winged warriors, stood resolute at Avalon's eastern tower, defying the relentless onslaught of Simalaun's underlings.

A whirlwind of steel and shadow engulfed the battlefield, a chaotic ballet of life and death.

A bloodcurdling howl erupted from the tower. A horde of monstrous creatures, resembling upright crocodiles clad in tattered leather armor and bearing skeletal skulls atop their heads, surged forward with renewed ferocity.

Their eyes, glowing with an unnatural, otherworldly light, bore witness to the depths of their twisted souls. The air was thick with the stench of decay and sulfur as these grotesque beings, armed with spears, let out guttural roars.

Driven by a singular purpose: to consume all life, they targeted the right flank of the formation, their claws outstretched, their fangs bared. Tristan and Gareth, valiant knights, were overwhelmed by the relentless assault.

The underlings seized them, their cold, scaly hands gripping their armor, and hurled them violently against the unforgiving stone wall.

Suria's heart pounded in her chest as she witnessed the chaos unfolding before her. Her eyes ablaze with determination scanned the battlefield. With a decisive nod, she ordered Palademes and Bedivere to abandon the formation and aid their fallen comrades.

"Protect yourselves!" she commanded, her voice cutting through the din. "I must press on!"

Bedivere and Palademes abandoned their positions, hurtling towards their fallen comrades. Their swords, ablaze with ethereal energy, danced through the air, cleaving through the underlings with effortless grace.

Meanwhile, Suria unleashed a storm of radiant light arrows, each one a bolt of divine power. Her attacks weakened the underlings, their once-ferocious assault now faltering.

Again, a deafening howl echoed through the air, growing louder with each passing moment.

The injured underlings, possessed by a dark force, rose to their feet, their movements erratic and violent. They wreaked havoc on the surrounding structures, crashing through walls and floors, endangering the lives of the innocent civilians within.

Palademes, tasked with protecting the civilians, left Bedivere to guard the fallen knights.

As Suria marched towards the tower, intent on confronting the Darkseed Lord, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment before the figure darted off, disappearing into the chaos. The figure's destination was clear: the fallen knights.

"BEDIVERE! Get out of there!" Suria shouted, desperately trying to reach the shadowy figure.

Before Bedivere could react, the figure transformed into a monstrous, crocodile-like creature. Its wide and menacing jaws engulfed Bedivere, Gareth, and Tristian in an instant.

Palademes, filled with rage and horror, charged at the creature, his sword ablaze with purple energy. He struck repeatedly at the submerged head; Palademes's sword met no resistance, his strikes absorbed into the creature's otherworldly form.

As the creature's form dissolved into a cloud of black smoke, it reformed behind Palademes, hurling spears at him.

Suria, arriving just in time, deflected the deadly projectiles, shielding her comrade.

"Well, look who has come to save the day?" sneered the dark-skinned Manusya Puaka, a lean, tough figure clad in a sleeveless Kelambi and Iban Sirat.

The rough, worn fabric clung to his muscular frame, its earthy tones blending seamlessly with the verdant jungle. A long, intricately woven loincloth, knotted at the back, draped between his legs and around his waist.

Gleaming silver accessories adorned his wrists and ankles, reflecting the dappled sunlight. A magnificent headgear, crowned with a cascade of vibrant hornbill feathers, framed his face, while a formidable spear and shield, known as a Terabai, hung at his side.

The wind rustled through the feathers, a soft whisper against his ears, as he stepped forward, his every movement a testament to his strength and agility.

A smirk played on his lips as he surveyed the chaos before him, a glint of anticipation in his eyes. His pointed ears, a remnant of his otherworldly heritage, twitched slightly, attuned to the slightest sound in the dense foliage.

"How does it feel killing your own ally? Harharhar!" he cackled.

Palademes eyes wide with horror as his friends armor were crushed by his very own attack. His hands trembling, still clutching the sword that had betrayed his friend. A wave of nausea washed over him as the realization he had fallen victim to Simalaun's dark magic.

"How could I have killed my own ally?" Palademes whispered, his voice barely audible.

Suria, her voice gentle, tried to comfort him.

"You were trying to save them. We didn't understand the full extent of Simalaun's power."

An ethereal aura emanated from the fallen knight, enveloping Palademes. The heavy, cold metal of his armor suddenly felt warm and comforting.

A surge of power coursed through him, and a newfound determination filled his soul. His trembling ceased, and he raised his sword, its edge glowing with a golden aura.

"Oh, that's scary. Am I supposed to lose to your new powered-up version? How about you taste this instead?!" Simalaun roared, his voice echoing across the battlefield.

He swung his spear with ferocious force, unleashing a swirling black tornado that tore through the landscape, obliterating everything in its path, including his own underlings.

Suria watched as Palademes, now infused with power, moved with lightning speed to intercept the attack. He swung his sword upward, a powerful golden beam countering the dark energy.

Suria, leaping over Palademes, launched her attack; she dashed like a bird hunting for its prey; Suria's hands stretched like bird wings; she launched a blinding light attack that hit Simalaun, sending him crashing into layers of walls.

The crushing debris can be heard clearly at the eastern Avalon. Injured but unbowed, Simalaun rose to his feet.

He shattered his spear with a single kick, the broken pieces glowing with dark energy.

A sinister smile crept across his face as he reformed the fragments into two deadly weapons.

"Never underestimate a Kshatriya!" Suria declared, her voice filled with defiance.

"A Kshatriya, huh? Interesting. No wonder you could hurt me. I'm honored to face such a formidable opponent. And even more honored to be the one to end you!" Simalaun lunged forward, the broken spears extended, ready to strike.