EPISODE 15: RAJA HUTAN

EPISODE 15: RAJA HUTAN

Malam itu, tidak ada yang bisa tidur.

Lolongan serigala masih terdengar dari kejauhan—bukan satu, tapi puluhan. Mereka seperti pasukan yang memberi kode, berkomunikasi, mengatur strategi. Raka meningkatkan kewaspadaan, meminta semua tetap di dekat api unggun. Tapi api hanya bisa mengusir kegelapan, tidak bisa mengusir ketakutan.

Arka duduk bersandar di batu, matanya terpejam. Mana masih mengalir deras dari hutan, membuatnya terjaga. Di dadanya, jantung kedua berdetak—detak yang sama dengan detak hutan. Ia bisa merasakan setiap gerakan di kegelapan, setiap napas makhluk yang mengintai.

“Mereka akan datang,” bisik Mbah Ranga, duduk di sampingnya. “Malam ini, atau saat fajar. Raja Hutan tidak akan menunggu lama.”

Arka membuka mata. “Mbah, aku takut.”

Mbah Ranga tersenyum—senyum yang sama seperti saat pertama kali ia mengajar Arka membaca aksara kuno. “Takut itu wajar, Nak. Tapi ingat, kau tidak sendiri. Dan sekarang... kau punya kekuatan yang tak terbayangkan.”

“Tapi aku tidak tahu cara menggunakannya.”

“Kau akan tahu. Saat waktunya tiba, tubuhmu akan bergerak sendiri. Seperti saat kau menyelamatkan Ragil dari harimau.”

Arka mengangguk, meski hatinya masih ragu.

Di kejauhan, lolongan serigala berubah nada. Lebih tinggi. Lebih mendesak. Mbah Ranga menegang.

“Mereka datang.”

***

Fajar belum tiba, tapi langit di timur mulai memerah—bukan merah matahari, tapi merah peringatan. Raka berdiri di depan, parang di tangan, mata mengamati kegelapan. Mulya di sampingnya, memegang linggis dan tombak bambu. Ratmi dan Surti melindungi anak-anak di tengah perkemahan. Wulan menyiapkan ramuan-ramuan darurat, siap merawat luka.

Dan kemudian, dari kegelapan, mata-mata itu muncul.

Puluhan pasang mata kuning menyala di batas cahaya api. Bukan satu—tapi berpencar, mengelilingi perkemahan dari segala arah. Serigala-serigala raksasa dengan bulu tebal abu-abu gelap, taring mengkilat, dan tubuh dua kali lipat serigala normal.

Raka berteriak, “BANGUN! BANGUN SEMUA! MEREKA DATANG!”

Kekacauan pecah.

Anak-anak Mulya menangis. Surti berteriak. Mulya dan Raka bersiap dengan senjata. Tapi sebelum mereka bisa mengatur barisan, serangan pertama sudah datang.

Gelombang 1: 20 serigala menerobos dari arah timur. Mereka melompati api unggun, menerjang tenda-tenda, mengoyak kain. Raka dan Mulya menyambut dengan parang dan linggis—satu serigala jatuh, dua, tiga. Tapi yang lain terus datang.

Arka mengerahkan 5 boneka marionette yang ia miliki. Boneka-boneka kayu itu berlari, menghadang serigala-serigala yang mencoba mendekati anak-anak. Satu boneka berhasil menahan dua serigala, tapi cakar-cakar tajam mengoyak tubuh kayu mereka. Dalam hitungan menit, dua boneka hancur.

“ARKA!” teriak Ragil dari belakang.

Arka menoleh. Dari arah selatan, gelombang 2 datang—20 serigala lagi mengepung dari samping. Mereka sudah di sini, di antara tenda-tenda, menyerang dari arah yang tidak terduga.

Ratmi menjerit. Seekor serigala menerjangnya, cakar mengoyak lengannya. Ia jatuh, tapi Surti menariknya ke belakang, melindunginya dengan tubuh.

Mulya berlari membantu, tapi dari kegelapan, sesuatu yang lebih besar muncul.

Gelombang 3: RAJA HUTAN.

Serigala itu dua kali ukuran serigala normal. Bulunya hitam pekat, matanya merah menyala, dan di belakangnya, 10 serigala pengawal—lebih besar dari yang lain—mengikuti seperti prajurit setia. Ia melangkah pelan, tidak tergesa, seperti tahu bahwa ia adalah penguasa di sini.

Raja Hutan menatap Arka. Lalu tersenyum—senyum binatang buas yang tahu mangsanya tidak bisa lari.

***

Arka gemetar. Tiga bonekanya yang tersisa bertarung mati-matian melawan serigala-serigala pengawal, tapi mereka kewalahan. Satu per satu, boneka-boneka itu hancur. Kayu berserakan di tanah.

Raja Hutan melangkah maju. Matanya tidak lepas dari Arka.

“Arka!” teriak Raka, berlari, tapi dua serigala pengawal menghadangnya. Ia terpaksa bertarung, parangnya berkilat di kegelapan.

Arka mundur selangkah. Dua langkah. Punggungnya menyentuh pohon. Tidak ada jalan mundur.

Raja Hutan menerjang.

Tapi sebelum cakarnya mencapai Arka, sesosok tua melompat ke depan.

MBAH RANGA.

Ia mendorong Arka ke samping, dan tubuhnya yang ringkih menahan terjangan raja hutan. Cakar itu mengoyak punggungnya. Darah muncrat. Mbah Ranga jatuh.

“Mbah!” teriak Arka.

Raja Hutan mengalihkan perhatian, siap menerkam lagi. Tapi di matanya, Arka melihat sesuatu—bukan kelaparan, tapi KEINGINAN. Ia ingin membunuh pewaris Karang. Ia ingin menghabisi anak yang dilindungi hutan.

Dan di dalam dada Arka, sesuatu meledak.

Mana—yang tak terbatas—mengalir deras, lebih deras dari sebelumnya. Tubuhnya bercahaya biru. Tangannya terulur, dan di sekelilingnya, pohon-pohon, ranting-ranting, kayu-kayu berserakan mulai BERGERAK.

Bukan satu. Bukan dua. Tapi PULUHAN.

Dalam hitungan detik, 10 boneka kayu baru lahir. Mereka berdiri, tanpa wajah, tapi dengan postur prajurit. Di tangan mereka, senjata dari ranting—tombak, pedang, perisai.

Arka menunjuk ke arah raja hutan. “HANCURKAN DIA.”

10 boneka itu berlari. Mereka menyerbu raja hutan dan para pengawalnya. Pertarungan sengit terjadi. Cakar vs kayu. Taring vs tombak. Raja hutan mengaum, mencabik-cabik dua boneka, tapi yang lain terus menekan.

Arka tidak berhenti. Ia menciptakan lebih banyak boneka—5 lagi, 5 lagi. Total 15 boneka baru (plus sisa 3 lama = 18). Tapi konsentrasi terpecah. Beberapa boneka bergerak kaku, mudah dihancurkan. Yang lain bertarung dengan efektif.

Raka, melihat kesempatan, menerjang dari samping. Parangnya menghunjam leher raja hutan.

Raja Hutan mengaum—bukan auman kemenangan, tapi auman kematian. Tubuhnya jatuh, getaran terasa hingga ke tanah. Serigala-serigala lain, melihat pemimpin mereka tumbang, memekik dan lari tunggang-langgang ke dalam hutan. Meninggalkan 35 mayat di medan pertempuran.

Arka terhuyung. Mana masih mengalir, tapi kepalanya pusing. 8 bonekanya hancur, berserakan di tanah. Sisanya, 10 boneka, berdiri diam seperti patung.

Tapi ia tidak pingsan. Mana dari hutan terus mengisi tubuhnya. Ia lelah, tapi tidak kritis.

“Arka!” Wulan berlari, memeriksa anaknya. “Kau terluka?”

Arka menggeleng. “Aku... aku baik, Bu. Tapi Mbah...”

Mereka berdua menoleh. Mbah Ranga terbaring di tanah, punggungnya hancur, darah menggenang di bawahnya. Ratmi, meski lengannya terluka, sudah berusaha membendung darah dengan kain. Tapi lukanya terlalu dalam.

“Mbah!” Arka berlari, jatuh berlutut di samping gurunya. “Mbah... jangan... jangan mati...”

Mbah Ranga membuka mata. Matanya yang tua masih tajam, meski tubuhnya sekarat. Ia tersenyum—senyum yang sama seperti saat pertama kali mengajar Arka. Senyum bangga.

“Kau... kau hebat, Nak,” bisiknya. “Aku bangga padamu.”

“Tapi Mbah... aku... aku tidak bisa tanpa Mbah...”

“Kau bisa.” Mbah Ranga meraih tangan Arka. “Kau sudah bisa. Lihat... boneka-boneka itu... kau ciptakan mereka... dengan kekuatanmu sendiri.”

Arka menangis. Air matanya jatuh di wajah keriput Mbah Ranga.

Di belakangnya, Kang Bijak mendekat. Ia membantu Wulan dan Ratmi membawa Mbah Ranga ke tenda darurat. Lukanya harus dibersihkan, meski semua tahu... ini hanya soal waktu.

***

Sisa malam itu dihabiskan untuk merawat luka dan menghitung kerugian.

Ratmi luka parah di lengan—cakaran dalam, tapi tidak sampai putus urat. Wulan membalutnya dengan kain bersih. Ratmi meringis kesakitan, tapi tidak mengeluh.

Mulya juga terluka—cakaran di punggung, tapi tidak parah. Surti membantunya membersihkan tenda-tenda yang robek.

Anak-anak Mulya menangis ketakutan, tapi ibu mereka berhasil menenangkan.

8 boneka hancur. Tapi 10 masih berdiri. Arka belajar sesuatu malam itu: dengan mana tak terbatas, ia bisa memproduksi instan, tapi butuh konsentrasi dan kendali. Semakin banyak boneka yang ia kendalikan, semakin kacau gerakan mereka.

Api unggun dinyalakan kembali—lebih besar kali ini, untuk mengusir serigala yang mungkin kembali. Raka duduk di dekat api, wajahnya lelah tapi matanya waspada.

Kang Bijak duduk di samping Arka, yang masih menangis diam-diam.

“Kau hebat, Nak,” bisik Kang Bijak. “Tapi ingat—mana tak terbatas bukan berarti kau tak terkalahkan. Hutan ini memberimu kekuatan, tapi juga mengikatmu. Ada harga yang harus dibayar.”

Arka menatapnya. “Maksud Kang?”

Kang Bijak menggeleng. “Nanti kau tahu. Sekarang, temui gurumu. Waktunya mungkin tidak lama lagi.”

Arka bangkit, berjalan ke tenda tempat Mbah Ranga terbaring.

***

Di dalam tenda, lampu minyak kecil menerangi wajah pucat Mbah Ranga. Wulan duduk di sampingnya, membasahi keningnya dengan kain basah. Ratmi, meski lukanya sakit, tetap bersikeras menemani.

Mbah Ranga membuka mata saat Arka masuk. Ia tersenyum lemah.

“Nak... datanglah... dekat sini.”

Arka berlutut di sampingnya, memegang tangan keriput itu. Tangannya dingin, sangat dingin.

“Mbah... aku... aku tidak mau Mbah pergi...”

Mbah Ranga menghela napas panjang—napas terberat yang pernah Arka dengar.

“Nak... buka jendela statusku.”

Arka terkejut. “Tapi Mbah...”

“Buka.”

Dengan tangan gemetar, Arka memejam. Sensasi hangat menjalar—kali ini mudah, karena mana tak terbatas. Ia membuka mata, dan Jendela Status Mbah Ranga muncul:

------------------------------------
NAMA: RANGGawARSITA
USIA: 83 TAHUN
STATUS: KRITIS, LUKA PARAH
SISA USIA: BEBERAPA JAM
------------------------------------

Arka membaca itu sekali. Dua kali. Tiga kali. Air matanya jatuh tanpa bisa ditahan.

“Mbah... tidak...”

Mbah Ranga tersenyum. Bukan senyum palsu, tapi senyum pasrah yang hanya bisa dilakukan oleh seseorang yang sudah terlalu lama hidup.

“Jangan sedih, Nak,” bisiknya. “Kakek sudah hidup delapan puluh tiga tahun. Lebih lama dari yang seharusnya. Tapi kau... kau baru mulai.”

“Tapi Mbah...”

“Dengar.” Mbah Ranga meremas tangannya—lemah, tapi penuh makna. “Soal hutan ini... ada rahasia yang harus kau tahu.”

Arka menahan napas.

“Hutan ini... bukan hanya sumber kekuatan. Ia juga... pengikat. Semakin kau gunakan kekuatannya, semakin kau terikat. Suatu saat, kau mungkin tidak bisa lepas.”

“Apa maksud Mbah?”

“Darah Karang... terhubung dengan hutan ini. Itu anugerah, tapi juga kutukan. Kau harus belajar menyeimbangkan. Gunakan kekuatannya, tapi jangan sampai kau kehilangan dirimu sendiri.” Mbah Ranga terbatuk—darah keluar dari mulutnya. “Kang Bijak... dia tahu lebih banyak. Tapi dia... dia juga terikat. Hati-hati padanya, Nak. Bukan karena dia jahat... tapi karena dia juga punya beban.”

Arka mengangguk, meski tidak sepenuhnya paham.

Mbah Ranga tersenyum lagi. “Sekarang... panggil yang lain. Aku ingin melihat mereka. Keluargaku yang baru.”

Arka bangkit, memanggil Raka, Wulan, Ragil, Ratmi, Mulya, Surti, dan semua yang bisa datang. Mereka berkerumun di sekitar tenda, menangis diam-diam.

Mbah Ranga menatap mereka satu per satu. Lalu, dengan sisa tenaganya, ia berbisik,

“Jaga... anak itu. Jaga Arka. Dia... adalah harapan kita semua.”

Mata Mbah Ranga terpejam. Dadanya berhenti bergerak.

Untuk beberapa detik, tidak ada yang bergerak. Hanya isak tangis yang pecah di tenda darurat itu.

Arka memeluk tubuh gurunya yang sudah dingin. Ia menangis, bukan seperti anak kecil, tapi seperti orang dewasa yang kehilangan segalanya.

Di luar tenda, langit timur mulai memerah. Fajar tiba—fajar pertama di tanah baru mereka.

Tapi di dalam hati Arka, hanya ada kegelapan.

***

Kang Bijak berdiri agak jauh, memandangi tenda itu. Matanya—untuk pertama kalinya—terlihat basah.

“Selamat jalan, kawan lama,” bisiknya. “Kita akan bertemu lagi... suatu hari nanti.”

Di dalam hutan, di balik pepohonan, dua titik merah menyala lagi. Makhluk itu tersenyum. Bukan senyum jahat, tapi senyum... puas.

“Sekarang, pewaris itu benar-benar sendirian,” bisiknya. “Mudah untuk dimanipulasi.”

Di sampingnya, Wira mengangguk. “Tapi Kang Bijak masih di sana.”

Makhluk itu tertawa pelan. “Kang Bijak? Dia juga terikat. Dan ikatannya... lebih dalam dari yang kau kira.”

Mereka berdua menghilang dalam kegelapan hutan, meninggalkan fajar yang perlahan naik.

Di tanah kosong itu, 10 boneka kayu berdiri diam di sekitar perkemahan. Menjaga. Menunggu. Dan di dalam tenda, seorang anak kecil menangisi gurunya yang telah tiada, tidak tahu bahwa di dalam hutan, musuh sedang merencanakan langkah selanjutnya.

Tapi ia juga tidak tahu, bahwa di dalam dirinya, kekuatan yang lebih besar sedang tumbuh—kekuatan yang suatu hari akan mengubah segalanya.

Bersambung ke SUB-ARC 3: MEMBANGUN DUNIA BARU...

Karakter yang muncul: Arka (pahlawan, mana tak terbatas), Raka (pemimpin pertahanan), Wulan (perawat), Mbah Ranggawarsita (terluka parah, meninggal), Ragil (membantu), Ratmi (luka parah), Mulya (luka parah), Surti (janda, membantu), Kang Bijak (memberi peringatan), Raja Hutan (Mini-Boss, mati), Makhluk Mata Merah (mengamati), Wira (mengamati).

EPISODE 15: THE FOREST KING

That night, no one could sleep.

Wolf howls still echoed from a distance—not one, but dozens. They were like an army signaling, communicating, strategizing. Raka increased vigilance, telling everyone to stay near the campfire. But fire could only ward off darkness, not fear.

Arka sat leaning against a rock, his eyes closed. Mana still flowed strongly from the forest, keeping him awake. In his chest, a second heart beat—a beat that matched the forest's rhythm. He could feel every movement in the darkness, every breath of lurking creatures.

"They will come," Mbah Ranga whispered, sitting beside him. "Tonight, or at dawn. The Forest King won't wait long."

Arka opened his eyes. "Grandfather, I'm scared."

Mbah Ranga smiled—the same smile as when he first taught Arka to read ancient scripts. "Fear is natural, child. But remember, you're not alone. And now... you have unimaginable power."

"But I don't know how to use it."

"You'll know. When the time comes, your body will move on its own. Like when you saved Ragil from the tiger."

Arka nodded, though his heart still doubted.

In the distance, the wolf howls changed tone. Higher. More urgent. Mbah Ranga tensed.

"They're coming."

***

Dawn hadn't arrived, but the eastern sky was beginning to redden—not the red of sunrise, but the red of warning. Raka stood in front, machete in hand, eyes scanning the darkness. Mulya beside him, holding a crowbar and bamboo spears. Ratmi and Surti protected the children in the center of the camp. Wulan prepared emergency herbs, ready to tend wounds.

And then, from the darkness, those eyes appeared.

Dozens of yellow eyes glowed at the edge of the firelight. Not one—but scattered, surrounding the camp from all directions. Giant wolves with thick dark gray fur, gleaming fangs, and bodies twice the size of normal wolves.

Raka shouted, "WAKE UP! EVERYONE WAKE UP! THEY'RE COMING!"

Chaos erupted.

Mulya's children cried. Surti screamed. Mulya and Raka readied their weapons. But before they could form a line, the first attack came.

Wave 1: 20 wolves broke through from the east. They leaped over the campfire, charging through tents, tearing fabric. Raka and Mulya met them with machete and crowbar—one wolf fell, two, three. But more kept coming.

Arka deployed his 5 marionette puppets. The wooden warriors ran, blocking the wolves trying to reach the children. One puppet managed to hold two wolves, but sharp claws tore through their wooden bodies. Within minutes, two puppets were destroyed.

"ARKA!" Ragil screamed from behind.

Arka turned. From the south, Wave 2 came—20 more wolves flanking from the side. They were already here, among the tents, attacking from unexpected directions.

Ratmi screamed. A wolf lunged at her, claws tearing her arm. She fell, but Surti pulled her back, protecting her with her body.

Mulya ran to help, but from the darkness, something larger emerged.

Wave 3: THE FOREST KING.

That wolf was twice the size of normal wolves. Its fur was pitch black, its eyes blazing red, and behind it, 10 guard wolves—larger than the others—followed like loyal soldiers. It walked slowly, unhurried, as if knowing it was the ruler here.

The Forest King stared at Arka. Then smiled—the smile of a predator knowing its prey couldn't escape.

***

Arka trembled. His three remaining puppets fought desperately against the guard wolves, but they were overwhelmed. One by one, those puppets were destroyed. Wood scattered on the ground.

The Forest King stepped forward. Its eyes never left Arka.

"Arka!" Raka shouted, running, but two guard wolves blocked him. He was forced to fight, his machete flashing in the darkness.

Arka stepped back. Two steps. His back touched a tree. No escape.

The Forest King lunged.

But before its claws reached Arka, an old figure leaped forward.

MBAH RANGA.

He pushed Arka aside, and his frail body took the Forest King's charge. Those claws tore through his back. Blood sprayed. Mbah Ranga fell.

"Grandfather!" Arka screamed.

The Forest King turned its attention, ready to pounce again. But in its eyes, Arka saw something—not hunger, but DESIRE. It wanted to kill the Karang heir. It wanted to finish the child protected by the forest.

And in Arka's chest, something exploded.

Mana—unlimited—flowed fiercely, stronger than before. His body glowed blue. His hand reached out, and around him, trees, branches, scattered wood began to MOVE.

Not one. Not two. But DOZENS.

In seconds, 10 new wooden puppets were born. They stood, faceless, but with warrior postures. In their hands, weapons from branches—spears, swords, shields.

Arka pointed at the Forest King. "DESTROY HIM."

Those 10 puppets ran. They swarmed the Forest King and its guards. A fierce battle ensued. Claws vs wood. Fangs vs spears. The Forest King roared, tearing apart two puppets, but the others kept pressing.

Arka didn't stop. He created more puppets—5 more, 5 more. Total 15 new puppets (plus 3 remaining old ones = 18). But concentration wavered. Some puppets moved stiffly, easily destroyed. Others fought effectively.

Raka, seeing his chance, charged from the side. His machete plunged into the Forest King's neck.

The Forest King roared—not a roar of victory, but a death roar. Its body fell, the impact shaking the ground. The other wolves, seeing their leader fall, yelped and fled headlong into the forest. Leaving 35 corpses on the battlefield.

Arka staggered. Mana still flowed, but his head spun. 8 of his puppets were destroyed, scattered on the ground. The remaining 10 stood still like statues.

But he didn't faint. Mana from the forest kept filling his body. He was exhausted, but not critical.

"Arka!" Wulan ran, checking her son. "Are you hurt?"

Arka shook his head. "I'm... I'm fine, Mother. But Grandfather..."

They both turned. Mbah Ranga lay on the ground, his back destroyed, blood pooling beneath him. Ratmi, despite her wounded arm, was already trying to stop the bleeding with cloth. But his wounds were too deep.

"Grandfather!" Arka ran, falling to his knees beside his teacher. "Grandfather... don't... don't die..."

Mbah Ranga opened his eyes. His old eyes were still sharp, though his body was dying. He smiled—the same smile as when he first taught Arka. A proud smile.

"You... you were amazing, child," he whispered. "I'm proud of you."

"But Grandfather... I... I can't without you..."

"You can." Mbah Ranga grasped Arka's hand. "You already can. Look... those puppets... you created them... with your own power."

Arka cried. His tears fell on Mbah Ranga's wrinkled face.

Behind him, Kang Bijak approached. He helped Wulan and Ratmi carry Mbah Ranga to a makeshift tent. His wounds needed cleaning, though everyone knew... it was only a matter of time.

***

The rest of that night was spent tending wounds and counting losses.

Ratmi was badly wounded in the arm—deep gashes, but tendons not severed. Wulan bandaged it with clean cloth. Ratmi winced in pain, but didn't complain.

Mulya was also wounded—scratches on his back, but not severe. Surti helped him clean up the torn tents.

Mulya's children cried in fear, but their mother managed to calm them.

8 puppets were destroyed. But 10 still stood. Arka learned something that night: with unlimited mana, he could produce instantly, but needed concentration and control. The more puppets he controlled, the more chaotic their movements.

The campfire was re-lit—bigger this time, to ward off any returning wolves. Raka sat near the fire, his face tired but his eyes vigilant.

Kang Bijak sat beside Arka, who was still crying silently.

"You were amazing, child," Kang Bijak whispered. "But remember—unlimited mana doesn't mean you're invincible. This forest gives you power, but also binds you. There's a price to pay."

Arka stared at him. "What do you mean?"

Kang Bijak shook his head. "You'll know later. Now, go to your teacher. His time may be short."

Arka rose, walking to the tent where Mbah Ranga lay.

***

Inside the tent, a small oil lamp illuminated Mbah Ranga's pale face. Wulan sat beside him, moistening his forehead with a damp cloth. Ratmi, despite her wound, insisted on staying.

Mbah Ranga opened his eyes as Arka entered. He smiled weakly.

"Child... come... sit by me."

Arka knelt beside him, holding that wrinkled hand. His hand was cold, very cold.

"Grandfather... I... I don't want you to go..."

Mbah Ranga sighed deeply—the heaviest breath Arka had ever heard.

"Child... open my status window."

Arka was startled. "But Grandfather..."

"Open it."

With trembling hands, Arka closed his eyes. That warm sensation spread—easily now, with unlimited mana. He opened his eyes, and Mbah Ranga's Status Window appeared:

------------------------------------
NAME: RANGGawARSITA
AGE: 83 YEARS
STATUS: CRITICAL, SEVERE WOUNDS
REMAINING LIFESPAN: A FEW HOURS
------------------------------------

Arka read it once. Twice. Three times. Tears fell uncontrollably.

"Grandfather... no..."

Mbah Ranga smiled. Not a fake smile, but the resigned smile of someone who had lived too long.

"Don't be sad, child," he whispered. "I've lived eighty-three years. Longer than I should have. But you... you're just beginning."

"But Grandfather..."

"Listen." Mbah Ranga squeezed his hand—weak, but meaningful. "About this forest... there's a secret you must know."

Arka held his breath.

"This forest... isn't just a source of power. It's also... a binder. The more you use its power, the more you become bound. Someday, you might not be able to break free."

"What do you mean?"

"Karang blood... is connected to this forest. It's a gift, but also a curse. You must learn to balance. Use its power, but don't lose yourself." Mbah Ranga coughed—blood came from his mouth. "Kang Bijak... he knows more. But he... he's also bound. Be careful with him, child. Not because he's evil... but because he also carries burdens."

Arka nodded, though he didn't fully understand.

Mbah Ranga smiled again. "Now... call the others. I want to see them. My new family."

Arka rose, calling Raka, Wulan, Ragil, Ratmi, Mulya, Surti, and everyone who could come. They gathered around the tent, crying silently.

Mbah Ranga looked at them one by one. Then, with his last strength, he whispered,

"Take care... of that child. Take care of Arka. He... is our only hope."

Mbah Ranga's eyes closed. His chest stopped moving.

For a few seconds, no one moved. Only sobs broke out in that makeshift tent.

Arka hugged his teacher's cold body. He cried, not like a child, but like an adult who had lost everything.

Outside the tent, the eastern sky began to redden. Dawn had arrived—the first dawn on their new land.

But in Arka's heart, there was only darkness.

***

Kang Bijak stood a little apart, staring at that tent. His eyes—for the first time—looked wet.

"Farewell, old friend," he whispered. "We'll meet again... someday."

Inside the forest, behind the trees, two red dots glowed again. That creature smiled. Not an evil smile, but a... satisfied one.

"Now, that heir is truly alone," it whispered. "Easy to manipulate."

Beside it, Wira nodded. "But Kang Bijak is still there."

The creature laughed softly. "Kang Bijak? He's also bound. And his bond... is deeper than you think."

They both vanished into the forest darkness, leaving the dawn to slowly rise.

On that empty land, 10 wooden puppets stood silently around the camp. Guarding. Waiting. And inside the tent, a child cried for his lost teacher, unaware that in the forest, enemies were planning their next move.

But he also didn't know, that within him, greater power was growing—power that would someday change everything.

Continued in SUB-ARC 3: BUILDING A NEW WORLD...

Characters featured: Arka (hero, unlimited mana), Raka (defense leader), Wulan (healer), Mbah Ranggawarsita (mortally wounded, dies), Ragil (helper), Ratmi (severely wounded), Mulya (severely wounded), Surti (widow, helper), Kang Bijak (giving warning), Forest King (Mini-Boss, dies), Red-Eyed Creature (observing), Wira (observing).

Terima kasih sudah mampir! Jika kamu menikmati konten ini dan ingin menunjukkan dukunganmu, bagaimana kalau mentraktirku secangkir kopi? 😊 Ini adalah gestur kecil yang sangat membantu untuk menjaga semangatku agar terus membuat konten-konten keren. Tidak ada paksaan, tapi secangkir kopi darimu pasti akan membuat hariku jadi sedikit lebih cerah. ☕️

☕ Buy Me Coffee