Thinking of this.
Ian hurriedly wiped his hand on Merlin's robe, then pulled an umbrella out of his Money Bag. He continued following Merlin forward.
The black-and-white tones were gradually being stained with other colors, but Merlin in his soul state was still translucent white.
"Hm?" Ian was still watching the Dementors under the bridge, pondering whether New Azkaban was feasible, when he suddenly bumped straight into Merlin's back.
Turned out Merlin had stopped dead in his tracks.
"What's wrong?"
Ian looked up and followed Merlin's gaze. At the end of the bridge, in a pitch‑black void, there stood a palace floating in midair.
The palace was vast and magnificent; huge stone pillars and spires loomed in the darkness like a slumbering behemoth. Shadows wreathed the palace like storm clouds.
The shadows sometimes condensed, sometimes dispersed, oppressive and heavy. Not only that, in front of the palace, through the gaps in the shadows, a throne could be faintly seen.
On it seemed to sit a humanoid figure, but most of it was shrouded by shadow.
"Is that Medivh?" Ian couldn't help growing serious. He frowned slightly, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't see clearly, so he could only turn his head to look at Merlin.
However.
Merlin didn't respond.
He just stared fixedly at the shadows in the sky.
"What's wrong with you, Great Mage?" Ian noticed Merlin's face had gone paper‑white, fine beads of sweat seeping out on his forehead, his eyes filled with an unprecedented gravity.
The sight made a flicker of unease and anxiety rise in the Little Wizard's heart as well.
"What is that?"
Ian judged that Merlin was definitely scared.
"Gulp~"
There was even the sound of Merlin swallowing coming from his mouth.
"Your guess just now was right, Medivh really did leave a surprise for intruders, but this surprise is not the sort of endless chain of traps we originally imagined."
"I think I already know why we've been able to walk all the way here unimpeded… this place simply doesn't need any other defensive measures!" Merlin's voice was hoarse and trembling.
"What do you mean!?"
Ian couldn't help swallowing as well and looked up at the majestic palace again. As he watched, with their arrival, the shadows encircling the palace began to churn violently.
The figure on the throne slowly opened its eyes.
"The Gravekeeper?"
Ian raised his Magic Wand.
But Merlin's hand was trembling.
"No, not a Gravekeeper, but… a god!"
Merlin was doing his utmost to calm himself down.
He had never imagined Medivh would leave a tomb guardian in such a way. The body of a god, enslaved as a gravekeeper—this was far, far beyond his imagination.
At this moment.
The awakened figure rolled its neck and leaned its body forward. Its lifeless face emerged from the shadows. It was a zombie‑like visage, skin shriveled, eye sockets sunken, yet in those hollow eyes burned a blood‑red light, like two blazing stars, filled with a tangible oppressive force that made one's blood run cold.
"Medivh! He actually enslaved the corpse of a dead god!" Merlin looked up at the towering existence in the shadows, then turned to glance at Ian beside him, who already had his Magic Wand aimed at the sky.
"What god is it?" Ian gripped his Magic Wand with both hands, his knuckles turning white from the force—not from fear, but because his emotions were surging too violently inside.
In the future, I'm this badass?
"The War God, Ares."
Merlin tried his best to steady his mind.
However.
His voice drew the attention of the figure on the throne.
This Legendary Demigod immediately felt a terrifying might descend on him like Mount Tai crashing down.
"We need to declare war on a god. Are you afraid?" Merlin forced himself to weather the pressure, looking at Ian, his tone extremely grave and serious.
"Are you afraid?"
Ian shot the question back. He had thought Merlin would laugh it off and then say something hot‑blooded, yelling about bonds and friendship and whatnot, before charging up first.
However.
Who could have guessed.
"If I wasn't afraid, would I be asking you?"
Merlin just spread his hands.
Utterly unlike a Great Mage, he gave the most honest, from‑the‑heart answer.
"????"
The Little Wizard was dumbfounded.
This was not the Merlin from the biographies at all.
Just as he was about to start complaining—
"Those who meet a god and do not bow, their ordained fate is already lost!"
The figure on the throne now spoke in a voice like a great bell, slowly standing up, his movements stiff and sluggish, yet every gesture still carried a terrifying majesty. The darkness around him seemed to grow thicker with the emergence of this horrifying existence, and the shadows twisted madly as if they had come alive.
Merlin instantly treated him as a mortal enemy; the Magic aura on his body surged wildly—he actually could still do Casting. Compared to Merlin's reaction, the Little Wizard's entire body just jolted and went rigid for a moment.
The body of War God Ares spoke human words, but what he said left Ian completely confused.
"Our names are on the Reincarnation Stele?"
He tested the waters with a question.
The ruined face of War God Ares immediately turned to him. The brain in this dead body might not work very well; when he saw Ian, he first froze for a moment, and his expression gradually became puzzled.
"This isn't what we agreed on… Medivh."
After a long time—
The towering figure sat back down again.
His eyes locked tightly onto Ian.
That voice that seemed to pierce heaven and earth carried a weight no living thing should be able to bear—luckily, Ian and Merlin were anything but ordinary, or they really might have had their souls scattered and destroyed on the spot.
"Agreed on what…"
Ian had just opened his mouth to ask.
When he felt the side of his face heat up.
Turned out Merlin had already leapt eight feet away, staring at him with an expression of utter drama—this Wizard King's gaze was also extremely off.
"What did he just call you?"
The Wizard King's voice was trembling even more than before.
He had considered that Ian might be a descendant of Medivh, but… at this very moment, Merlin felt a chill run down his spine, his scalp tingling like never before.
He couldn't help but think more about it.
Putting together everything from before—
Merlin had already realized a very terrifying possibility—as the saying goes, judging others by oneself, so… had he perhaps been set up and used in some grand "Kill‑the‑Wizard" scheme?!