Morgan's chest swelled with anticipation.
Time inside the passage grew fluid, almost meaningless. The kaleidoscopic colors twisted endlessly, rushing past as though they were piercing through countless realms, until at last the current spilled into a new land.
"We've arrived," The beast announced near her ear.
Morgan blinked, and the world wrenched itself into a new shape.
She now stood upon an endless desert. Yellow sand stretched as far as the eye could see, the sun blazed mercilessly overhead, and the scorching wind whipped against her cheeks. The temperature had spiked, at least ten degrees hotter than before.
"Where are they?"
Still dizzy from the sudden shift, Morgan squinted into the heat-haze, spinning left and right, searching eagerly for the clash of titans she had longed to witness. But no battle greeted her eyes.
"They're… over there," The shadow said at last, its tone oddly strained, as if what it beheld unsettled even it.
Morgan followed the line of its gaze.
And saw them.
Two figures beneath the shade of a towering dune. Ian, and Merlin.
Merlin's state was wretched. His once-regal robes hung in tatters, his face and arms were mottled with swollen welts and bruises, and his bearing carried the air of a man dragged through hell.
By contrast, Ian looked almost untouched. A faint smudge of dust clung to the edge of his cloak, but beyond that… not a scratch, not a drop of blood. He stood calm, composed, and unshaken.
The difference was so stark, anyone could see who had the upper hand.
"Teacher!"
Morgan broke into a run, her face lit with joy, her eyes brimming with worship.
"I knew it, you're the strongest!" She threw herself against Ian in a fierce little embrace. For now, the future black witch, who would one day command the abyss itself, was still just a small girl, her arms barely wide enough to cling to him.
"You…?" Ian tilted his head, only mildly surprised. His gaze slid to the shadow beast at her side, and in that instant, understanding dawned. So that was how she had found him. His binding spell hadn't truly shackled the creature. And yet, instead of fleeing, it had brought Morgan straight to him. Curious. Almost… telling.
"Oh! Heavens!"
The shadow beast's reaction, however, was anything but calm.
"You… you actually defeated Merlin! Impossible! This can't be! Cinderella said it herself, this era belongs to Merlin!" The shadow creature's voice was laced with disbelief and horror.
"…"
Merlin's lips twitched at those words. He looked as if he wanted to refute them, but in the end, he swallowed it down. If anyone knew the meaning of having no way to explain yourself, it was him right now.
'What was he supposed to say? That the bruises all over his body were self-inflicted?'
And if they asked why he would beat himself up, how exactly was he supposed to answer that? The last thing Merlin wanted was to walk among mortals only to hear rumors that he had contracted hundreds, if not thousands, of unspeakable diseases.
"Don't talk about winning or losing. Don't poke at scars that don't need poking." Ian's tone was light, almost casual. "This is my good brother, Merlin. He said he'd take me to dig up a treasure. We've just signed a binding contract, in fact."
Sure enough, a faint glow shimmered between Ian and Merlin, evidence of an active magical pact.
"Digging up treasure?"
Young Morgan's eyes lit up instantly.
"Yes. Once we find it, we'll split it fifty-fifty. I've already proven my expertise to my good brother here." Ian delivered the line with the polished charm of a seasoned Hogwarts swindler.
The warmth in his voice was disarming.
"How did you prove it?"
The shadow suddenly cut in.
Ian shot the creature a sharp glare, but still, for the sake of his apprentice, he displayed his set of tools, an assortment of finely crafted equipment passed down from an alchemical master.
Some looked like delicate hooks, others like ancient compasses, and one was a strangely shaped spade. The moment the shadow creature laid eyes on them, an uneasy familiarity sank in.
"You're going tomb-robbing!?"
It recognized immediately what kind of 'treasure hunt' this was.
After all, It came from the Hall of Souls.
"So it's tomb-raiding!" Young Morgan exclaimed in sudden realization, then grew thoughtful. She felt like she had just uncovered a new layer to her teacher's wizardly heritage and traditions.
"Must you say it like that?"
Ian rolled his eyes.
Morgan wisely dropped the subject, but the shadow creature wasn't about to give him the courtesy.
"Tomb-raiding is tomb-raiding. I'm only curious, what kind of tomb could make one legend drag another along for the ride?" Its tone had shifted to something close to excitement, completely forgetting it was still a prisoner.
"That's exactly what I want to know. We only just signed the pact; we haven't had the chance to go into the details yet." Ian turned his gaze toward Merlin, who wore an unreadable, secretive expression.
If it were truly a worthwhile tomb…
Ian would have dug it alone.
And Merlin, no doubt, would have done the same.
The fact that Merlin dared not go by himself meant the place was truly perilous.
Feeling Ian's eyes on him, Merlin's own gaze flickered, lingering meaningfully on the shadow in Morgan's hands, before he finally spoke, his voice careful, deliberate.
"It is indeed a place where danger is likely. But I believe it also holds a path forward. Because the master of that tomb once accomplished something neither you nor I could ever hope to achieve."
Merlin's tone carried a rare weight of solemnity.
"What… what did he do?" Ian's curiosity spiked instantly.
Merlin glanced at him, then at the shadow creature once more. "I suspect these shadows from history know the name all too well."
He paused, just a moment longer than necessary, letting the silence stretch.
"The tomb we're going to unearth… holds the remains of a Legend, a wizard who once slew three gods."
The moment Merlin spoke, the shadow-creature convulsed violently, letting out a shriek so piercing it rattled the air.
"You're mad! Mad! Completely insane!" it howled, its voice shaking with raw terror.
Clearly, it understood exactly what Merlin was talking about.
"That is absolutely forbidden!" the shadow roared, its form writhing with panic.
But Merlin ignored the outburst. His gaze shifted to the still-confused young wizard.
"Perhaps," he said solemnly, "a thousand years into your future, all records of him have already vanished. But I believe, Ian… that in this venture, you and I will both find what we truly seek."
His voice carried the weight of conviction, as though no force in the world could sway it.
"A wizard who killed gods…?" Ian repeated, still reeling from the revelation.
"Yes." Merlin inclined his head gravely.
"The tomb I found… belongs to the God-Eater, Medivh."
His words fell heavy as iron.
And then, "...What???"
Ian froze, utterly stunned. This time, it was his turn to be completely dumbfounded.
"Oh… heavens!" Young Morgan gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief.
To plunder the tomb of Medivh, the God-Eater, Merlin's plan was beyond reckless. It was insane. And yet… wasn't that exactly the kind of man her teacher was?
"This…" Ian swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the burning sigil carved onto his arm, The Oath of Mei, the binding pact he had just signed with Merlin. The mark pulsed faintly, its threads tethered to his very soul.
"Is it… too late to break the contract?" he asked desperately, scrubbing at the brand as if he could erase it by sheer force.
But of course, no miracle came.
(End of Chapter)
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