Purnama, ever mindful of Suria's safety, reiterated his concern before they separated into different groups.
"Remember, Suria, if things get out of hand, use the Dykin seed without hesitation."
"Still worried about Suria, huh, Purnama? She's one tough Kshatriya; the Darkseed is the one who should be worried. Am I right, Suria?" Gema asked, a grin on his face.
"Yeah! I'm going to crush all of them today!"
"Alright then, all the best to both of you. Let's end this quickly so we can resume our mission," Purnama said, his tone determined.
They then split into three groups, each taking a different direction: Purnama's group took the left path, Arthur and Gema went down the middle, and Suria headed to the right.
As they walked, Arthur seemed troubled by a question he had meant to ask. His knights formed a formation, with Kay and Percival guarding the rear, Arthur and Gema in the middle, and Lancelot leading the way.
"Pray tell, Gema, who is that fair maiden?" Arthur finally asked.
"Huh? Do you mean Suria?" Gema replied, surprised by the question.
"Her power surpasses all I have ever witnessed, surpassing even the combined might of those three infernal lords we are destined to confront. Yet, a tempestuous spirit resides within her. By fate's decree, I am most grateful for her aid in this perilous endeavor..."
Arthur paused, the weight of his words heavy.
"So, you're aware of that after all. Just like you, that's what keeps bothering Purnama. When I was still a Kshatriya, there was a time when Suria went berserk, destroying everything in her path. Our leader found a way to get Suria under control. For now, we have nothing to worry about; as long as Purnama is around, Suria should be just fine," Gema explained.
"What if Purnama were to be lost to the fray?" Arthur's concern deepened.
"Then we should pray that she stays on our side," Gema said, placing a reassuring hand on Arthur's shoulder and giving him a small smile.
Meanwhile...
Leading the way along the western path, Purnama halted, a mischievous glint in his eye. He outlined his strategy for attacking Kelembai's forces.
"We need to create a diversion, gentlemen," he declared, "a grand distraction to keep Kelembai's attention fixed on the main assault. Zirko, my stalwart companion, will assist your battle, focusing the fight on one flank."
The knights' focus, fixed upon Purnama, anticipation building. He paused dramatically, enjoying their rapt attention.
"This will give me the perfect opportunity to infiltrate the tower undetected."
Purnama chuckled a low rumble that belied the seriousness of his plan.
"While Kelembai is distracted, I shall seek out Suria's kris."
Unfortunately, as he strategized, Purnama didn't notice he was slowly sinking into a patch of quicksand. By the time he realized his predicament, he was waist-deep, a look of comical dismay spreading across his face.
"Perhaps this 'diversion' was a bit too effective!" He sputtered.
The knights, with a mixture of concern and amusement, quickly sprang into action, pulling Purnama from the treacherous quicksand.
At the eastern part of Avalon...
The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the distant sound of rushing water. Suria yawned, clearly bored from the long walk.
"Anyway, what kind of curse is powerful enough to bring the dead back to life?" Suria asked.
"A binding oath forged in the fires of loyalty," Palademes began, his voice echoing in the stillness of the forest.
"My lady, the curse of which our king spoke yesterday was wrought by the ancient incantations of his great ally, Merlin. He alone invoked it; it resembles a wish more than a curse. Unbeknownst to him, we vowed the same oath—be we alive or departed, our blood and souls are for our noble King Arthur," Bedivere elucidated.
"That's a different level of loyalty you knights carry. I'm impressed; it reminds me of Purnama..." Suria remarked.
"Yet still, Lady Suria, dost thou possess any stratagems we must heed before we engage with Simalaun?" Gareth queried, his tone earnest.
"No, I'm not Purnama; we go in and kill that bastard," Suria replied firmly.
Tristan, ever vigilant, halted the group, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword. "My lady," he whispered, "I believe we have company."
They could see a small encampment through the dense foliage – a crudely constructed fire crackling in the center, smoke curling lazily into the air. Around it, rough-looking men were hunched over a makeshift meal, their laughter coarse and boisterous.
Suria, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint, grinned. "Bandits," she declared, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "And they seem to have a hot meal under this rainy weather. Perfect."
Before the knights could react, Suria was already moving. With a burst of speed, she darted through the undergrowth, her movements fluid and silent as a panther. The bandits, startled by the sudden intrusion, scrambled for their weapons, but Suria was too fast. She moved like a whirlwind, disarming and disabling them with swift, efficient movements.
"Tie them up," she commanded the knights, her voice crisp and authoritative.
The knights, though surprised by her sudden initiative, obeyed without question. They quickly secured the bandits, their ropes binding them tightly to the sturdy trunks of nearby trees.
Suria, meanwhile, approached the fire, her gaze fixed on the steaming pot bubbling over the flames.
"Smells delicious," she remarked, her nose twitching. "What kind of stew is that?"
"Rabbit stew. Best you'd ever taste." One of the bandits, sputtering and cursing, grumbled.
"We'll see about that." Suria chuckled.
She ladled a generous portion of the stew into a bowl and savored the rich, savory flavors.
"Not bad," she conceded, wiping a stray bit of sauce from her chin with the back of her hand.
"Thanks for the meal!"
Tied and helpless bandits exchanged bewildered glances as Suria and the knights continued their walk to the mark location. They had never encountered an opponent quite like this – a warrior who was both fearsome and… appreciative of a good meal.
"We have reached the place of waiting, Sir Gema," Percival proclaimed as he rubbed the bark marked with an X carved by a sword.
The weather grew windier as the rain that had been falling steadily transformed into a heavy downpour. Despite this, sunlight remained visible, unobscured by clouds.
The sun reached its zenith, its rays pouring down upon the colossal solar panel atop Avalon's spires. The city sprang to life as the panel absorbed the peak solar energy.
Gears whirred, steam hissed, and the ring of water surrounding the city surged with renewed vigor, powering the city's machinery.
This was the signal.