The battlefield had already been decided…
They simply didn't know it yet.
From a distance, the clash looked like a desperate struggle for survival.
King Arthur stood at the center of it all, Excalibur blazing with radiant light, every swing of the legendary blade cutting down undead warriors with divine precision. His armor was scarred, his breathing heavy—but his resolve? Unbroken.
Around him, the Knights of the Round Table fought with unmatched discipline. Shields locked. Swords flashing. Each knight a master of their craft, cutting through wave after wave of Death Knights with skill that bordered on legendary.
And beside Arthur…
Merlin
The true pillar of the battlefield.
Golden magic erupted from Merlin in controlled bursts.
Not explosive.
Not chaotic.
Precise.
Calculated.
He raised his staff—
—and the world answered.
A pulse of golden energy expanded outward in a perfect sphere.
And my army…
collapsed.
Death Knights froze mid-motion.
Then—
They shattered.
Bones fell apart. Armor clattered uselessly to the ground. The purple glow in their hollow eyes vanished instantly, severed from my control.
Another wave followed.
Another pulse.
And more of my undead were erased—not destroyed physically, but dispelled. Their very animation undone as if it had never existed.
Merlin stepped forward calmly, his voice carrying across the battlefield.
"Hold your ground!"
And they did.
Because now they could.
Arthur seized the moment.
Excalibur carved through the remaining Death Knights, its holy light burning away the shadows that tried to reform. Each strike was decisive, each movement backed by Merlin's support.
The tide turned.
And then—
They reached it.
The Grail.
It rested upon a stone altar, glowing faintly with divine power, untouched by the chaos surrounding it.
Arthur approached it slowly, cautiously.
Even now, he understood its importance.
Its danger.
He reached out—
And took it.
For a moment…
The battlefield stilled.
Victory.
Merlin exhaled quietly, lowering his staff just slightly.
"It's done," he said.
No.
It wasn't.
Shadows stirred.
The remaining Death Knights surged forward—not in disorganized chaos, but in a final, coordinated assault.
They crashed into Arthur and the knights with relentless force, sacrificing themselves to delay, to distract, to create one opening.
And that was all that was needed.
I stepped through the portal.
The battlefield welcomed me with chaos.
Perfect.
My hand was already raised.
Purple energy condensed instantly—
And I fired.
The blast struck Arthur directly.
It hit like a falling star.
A concentrated surge of shadow and energy slammed into him, forcing him backward as the force of the impact tore through his defenses.
The Grail slipped from his grasp.
That was the moment.
I seized it.
Telekinesis snapped into place instantly, my will locking onto the artifact as it flew through the air toward me.
So close.
So perfectly timed.
But Merlin—
Of course.
Golden blasts tore toward me in rapid succession, each one layered with enough power to disrupt, to destroy, to end.
I reacted instantly.
A shield formed around me—
Purple. Dense. Absolute.
The spells struck it—
And the impact shook the air.
Cracks of energy spread across my barrier as the force pushed against me, forcing me back slightly.
Annoying.
The Grail slipped.
It hit the ground.
And began to roll—
Downward.
No.
I didn't hesitate.
Shadows answered instantly.
A portal tore open beneath it—perfectly placed, perfectly timed.
The Grail dropped—
And vanished.
Gone.
Back to my castle.
Safe.
Mine.
I exhaled slowly.
Victory.
Merlin's next attack was already forming.
Arthur was recovering.
The knights were regrouping.
It didn't matter.
I had what I came for.
I stepped backward into shadow.
The portal closed—
And I was gone.
Leaving behind a battlefield of broken undead…
A furious king…
And a very, very dangerous Merlin.