Marvel: Impregnation System

Chapter 191 - 179: Rolling Hills Part 2

While Ricky and his makeshift army marched through the forest, Merlyn could no longer spy on them, their path was now beyond his sight.

But in losing one watchful gaze, they had just gained another in its place.

Instead of Merlyn's eyes, it was Gaea who watched as the group pressed on toward the edge of her domain.

Although the Chimeras marching under Ricky's command had been granted passage, the second wave was forcefully expelled the moment Gaea sensed Alexander's presence.

These creatures, these hollow shells of life, grotesque amalgamations of monkeys, sloths, and other beasts, were repelled with an unseen force, cast out of her domain as if nature itself rejected their existence.

For even if only for a fleeting moment, she wanted to watch Alexander, unbothered and unfiltered.

"Are you truly from the Greek pantheon?" Morgana's words broke the silence that had settled over them, filling the void left in the wake of Gaea's sudden confrontation.

"Yes, have you heard of the minotaur?" Asterion asked, turning towards her with a gentle smile.

Morgana gave Asterion a quick once-over, fully aware that he was comparing himself to the version of his story told in myth.

"The one who died in the maze?" she asked, eyeing him skeptically.

"Well, it was a labyrinth, and I wouldn't say I 'died', I simply left Greece." Asterion corrected, trying to set the record straight but in a polite way.

"Well, would you look at that," Morgana muttered, having met demi-gods before but showing a particular interest in this one that showed a certain humility.

"I don't believe we've been formally introduced," Asterion said, offering a slight bow as if being cordial to her status as a queen.

"I am Asterion, forefather of all minotaurs, friend to Daedalus, and friend to Ricky." Asterion greeted, only to pause as he realized he had used Ricky's name without permission.

He glanced over, relief washing over him when he saw Ricky giving him a thumbs-up, signaling to him that it was indeed, alright.

"I-I see." Morgana said with slight shock, actually bothered to the core at how Ricky managed to befriend such a polite being such as Asterion.

To anyone meeting Ricky for the first time, the immediate impression would be his crassness and blunt demeanor, so much so that it was easy to overlook the fact that those around him were not the same.

They were, in a nice way to put it, oddly unique.

"How did you two even come across each other?" Morgana asked, unable to stop herself from the question forming in her mind.

"In a cave." Ricky simply said, his words making Asterion chuckle since it was the truth after all.

"A cave?" Morgana asked, thinking it was metaphorical but after seeing Asteiron nod in agreement, she showed a weird expression.

"I basically stumbled into Daedalus' tomb and found him." Ricky summed it up perfectly, getting straight to the point as quickly as he got there.

"Ricky shined the light onto the darkness in which I surrounded myself in, opening the door to my concealment and allowing me to take in a breath of fresh air." Asterion said, closing his eyes while taking in all that life had to offer.

"He showed me that there is so much beauty to life." Asterion spoke from his very heart, gripping it tightly as MOrgana gave him a weird look.

"Even now, I am enthralled by Otherworld's beauty; the rocks, the leaves, the dirt, the-" Asterion began, preaching his surroundings as if reciting poetry.

Prancing on and on, his tongue spirling forward hymns that gave way to how he himself saw his surroundings.

Only when Asterion finally stopped, instead of everyone bearing the same expression Morgana wore, Ricky and Alexander were clapping.

Words could not convey the beauty that had spilled from Asterion's mouth in that moment, even if one had tried.

"Dude, that was f*cking beautiful." Ricky clapped, applauding Asterion and cheering him on in his passions.

"Truly, truly breathtaking." Alexander voiced, clapping his paw together in appreciation for Asterion's sudden talent.

"Thank you, it means a lot to truly have your passions recognized." Asterion smiled warmly, happy to be appreciated by those he deems his friends.

"When you mentioned I should write down my poetry, I started taking it more seriously than I first imagined," Asterion said, a hint of pride in his voice as Ricky nodded, happy to help even if it was just encouraging Asterion to embrace his passion.

However, what they could never know was that this little conversation, this accidental push into the subject, would lead Asterion to become one of the greatest poets of the decade, writing under the pen name Asteroni and would go on to inspire many in the twenty first century.

Asterion's poems would speak of all that life gives, yet remind the reader that life itself is endless, just as his desires are, boundless and ever-reaching.

Through his verses, he would capture the eternal yearning that defines his existence, blending beauty and longing into a tapestry of words that resonate with anyone who dares to dream beyond the confines of the world they know.

Asterion felt thankful, grateful to all his readers who read even a single word, regardless of whether they truly liked it.

At first, the harsh critiques stung, but over time, he learned to appreciate all readers, from those who adored his work to those who didn't understand it.

Every opinion, every reaction, whether good or bad, was a reflection of his words' power to stir something within them.

But as they reached the clearing, the edge of Gaea's domain, Ricky felt his danger sense intensify, pulling his focus forward like a gravitational force.

The friendly chatter gradually faded, swallowed by a deadly silence as the brief moment of warmth was drowned by yet another looming sense of danger.

"Ha~" Ricky exhaled deeply, taking a slow step forward as his foot crossed from the forestry ground into the lush green field, seemingly passing the boundary.

Above him, six grotesque knights stood upon the rolling hills, their towering figures blocking out the sight of Camelot, with an endless line of Chimeras stretching behind them like an imposing wave that triumphed that Ricky had fought earlier.

It was then that Alexander, bracing himself for the coming battle, felt the weight of the 969 Carrion Chimeras placed under his command, threading to him as if forming the reigns that now fell under his tiny paw-like grip.

There were no words, no exchanged glances, but they both understood all too well the meaning behind this action.

"Let me guess, you're some f*cked-up creation of Merlyn?" Ricky asked, laughing in the face of the six grotesque knights as he tried to provoke some kind of reaction, but they remained motionless, unbothered.

"We are the six damned knights who once belonged to the Round Table, betraying our promised king. We atone for our sins by exposing them for all to see," Lancelot rasped, his voice barely intelligible, as if it pained him to speak.

Making it clear that their grotesque forms were the physical manifestation of their past misdeeds, while also showing that Ricky's words had no effect on them, leaving them unbothered and resolute.

"So you're just knock-off versions of the Seven Deadly Sins?" Ricky asked, raising an eyebrow as he scanned their grotesque forms.

"How could we be the Seven Deadly Sins if there are only six of us?" Lancelot countered, his voice dripping with mockery as he twisted Ricky's own words, turning the humiliation back on him.

"Maybe that's your lame shtick," Ricky mocked, tapping the ebony blade on his shoulder with a casual smirk, the ebony shield and crown seeming to scoff in unison at sheer appearance before them.

'How dare they all simply exist after betraying our master.' The Ebony Crown hissed, hatefully spewing out his resentment towards these figures.

'They got off easy if you ask me.' The Ebony Shield scowled, spitting out his disdain towards them within Ricky's mind.

'So are you guys cool with me beating the sh*t out of them-"

'Yes.' The Ebony Crown and Shield said before Ricky could even finish, showing how much they hated the six figures mounted atop these rolling hills.

'Huh, I guess we can agree on some things-'

'YEAHHHHHHHHHHH!' The Ebony Chalice cheered within Ricky's head, dancing around his elder siblings with his buck tooth teeth hanging out.

'Teamwork, teamwork, teamwork!' The Ebony Chalice continued to cheer, his words causing his siblings to scowl at him.

'All together-.............siblings?' The Ebony Chalice asked, holding his hand outwards, eager for his elder siblings to join him.

However, to his surprise, everyone, including the Ebony Sword, calmly walked to their own corners of Ricky's subconscious, keeping a respectful distance from him.

"Ricky should I-"

"Go, I got this in this bag." Ricky muttered to Morgana, watching her side-eye the former Round Table knights as she locked eyes with Mordred for a moment before quickly turning her gaze away.

Cedric and a few other coven members made their way over to her as she opened a purple portal.

But instead of charging forward or attempting to stop her, they merely allowed her to leave without so much as acknowledging her presence.

The lack of reaction stung Morgana, a slight insult she couldn't ignore and still, she let it go, stepping into the portal with the others.

"So, does this guy speak for the rest of you, or is he just throwing his weight around?" Ricky asked, gesturing toward the other five knights who simply stared at him with hollow eyes, their expressions unreadable and unmoving.

"I was the only one allowed their tongue." Lancelot said, black blood dripping from the side of his mouth as even speaking was a strenuous task.

"Oh sh*t, wait let me guess, you're the bastard who kept stabbing people in the back." Ricky laughed, pointing at Lancelot who squinted his eyes at these words.

"That was Mordred, the one to my left." Lancelot proclaimed, introducing the disgraced knight in serpentine form, looking more like a naga than human.

"Well, I forget the rest of you, so lay it on me. Who the f*ck are you?" Ricky joked, pretending to ponder while looking over the knights.

Lancelot nodded, clearly unfazed by the mockery, as the others remained silent, literally unable to voice their complaints even if they wanted to.

"I was Arthur's sworn sword, the first damned knight to betray his promised king." Lancelot spoke with deep regret, for unlike the others who did not repent for their actions, he did so with a deep and mournful sorrow.

"I am Lancelot du Lac." Lancelot formally introduced himself, his words causing Ricky to laugh as he slowly raised his ethereal arms that had stayed relatively hidden behind his figure.

Snap

Snap

"Oh no way, you're the guy that boned Arthur's wife?" Ricky said, snapping a couple of times as the realization hit him, his words coming out in such a nonchalant yet vulgar way that it left Lancelot momentarily silent.

"Although it is my sin to bear, it was-"

"Oh who cares man, we all got layers, no need to go into some long tirade about how guilty you are or whatever." Ricky laughed, taking a couple steps forward as if taking the lead towards this formidable opposing army.

"I mean, either way, I'm just gonna absorb you into my little army and simply steal the strings that Merlyn uses to dangle you around." Ricky easily revealed his intentions, watching as the knights continued to impassively look at him.

"We shall see." Lancelot said, raising his gaze to Ricky, clearly unconvinced by his proclamation.

"Oh, we f*cking shall."

Merlyn simply watched the unfolding scene, his eyes fixed on the branch at Lancelot's side, the same one he had given him at the beginning of this whole mess.

His gaze then shifted, landing on Lady Roma, bound by Chastiefol's first form as he grimaced, his thoughts lingering on her, his only remaining love and attachment in this world.

Yet, despite the emotions clawing at him, he knew he could do nothing.

If he interfered now, all of his careful planning might unravel, and he'd rather let Ricky destroy this army than risk everything by jumping in too early.

"You sure you don't wanna just surrender right now and save yourself an ass whooping?" Ricky asked, his voice light and casual as he looked toward Lancelot, who simply stared back.

"I mean, we both know I'm just gonna kick your ass, so why not save you the trouble?" Ricky added, his grin wide, as if this whole situation was just beneath him.

"You speak the truth, you are more powerful than me," Lancelot admitted, his voice heavy with reluctant respect as he knew deep down that he couldn't defeat Ricky through strength alone, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

"But after seeing your swordsmanship, your power, and the wit in which you command, I've come to one conclusion," Lancelot continued, his gaze unwavering as he sized Ricky up, having seen him in the thralls of battle but only one thing was clear on his mind afterwards.

"You are nothing special in front of true power." Lancelot proclaimed, knowing that if they were hollowed in spirit, then Ricky was hollow in form as there was nothing truly special about him.

"Wow, you've got quite the way with words," Ricky chuckled, his tone light, though his smile slowly rose up into a sleazy one.

"No wonder you got your little promised king's wife to kiss the tip of your cock." Ricky laughed, his mockery finally getting to Lancelot, who slowly scowled at the mention of Guinevere in such a vulgar way.

"You better watch your tongue, you good for nothing stain on Sir Percival's name." Lancelot spat back, seeing Ricky as nothing more than a vulgar boy hiding within a man's body.

"Uh oh, did I get the famed Lancelot a little riled up there?" Ricky smirked, pushing past his weak insult and drilling deeper into his previous jab, his eyes narrowing into crescent moons.

"Did I push a sore spot there? Did I press a little too far? Well, let me go a little farther." Ricky grinned in an unhinged manner, his shamelessness clear as day as his words cut deeper, as everyone behind him sighed, bracing for the inevitable fallout.

"O'l Lancelot, turned into a f*cking monster 'cause he couldn't keep it in his pants, how ironic." Ricky proclaimed, his words striking a nerve as Lancelot slowly gritted his teeth, the anger bubbling up just beneath the surface.

"Guess I can't really talk all that sh*t since she must've been a hot piece of ass-"

"ENOUGH!" Lancelot roared, his monstrous form bursting into a twisted black aura.

The elongated blade that replaced his right arm gleamed with a sharp, menacing horror, radiating a deadly energy that seemed to distort the very air around him.

Unable to stop himself, his manners and chivalry were cast aside, as his hollow eyes pulsed with a rage he thought he had long buried. With a roar, Lancelot bolted down the rolling hills, charging towards Ricky with a fury that matched the growing storm inside him.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! THAT'S IT, COME ON AND SHOW ME WHAT YOU F*CKING GOT!" Ricky laughed maniacally, his voice carrying through the air like a challenge.

His psychokinetic constructs materialized around him, weapons springing into form at his disposal, ready to meet Lancelot's wrath head-on.

"NOW!"

BOOM

The Chimera hoard that Ricky had placed under Alexander's command was finally put to good use.

The general, with calculated precision, ordered them to ambush the main army, directing the creatures to flank from all sides.

The creatures surged forward like a relentless tide, crashing into the rear of the enemy forces.

"ON ME, ON ME!" Alexander roared, his voice cutting through the chaos of battle as he signaled his forces to converge.

With Bucephalus thundering beneath him, he charged forward, his eyes locked onto the massive Chimera hoard ahead.

His legion, spurred on by his call, surged forward in unison, flanking the grotesque beasts on both sides in a swift and brutal pincers maneuver.

However, as the coven, the undead army, and even Ricky sprang forward into battle, Dexter remained shackled to the ground.

It felt as though his feet were frozen in place, rooted to the ground by the horrifying sight before him. His eyes were fixed on a gargantuan undead bear, towering over the mere cannon fodder, its monstrous form serving as heavy infantry in the twisted army.

But it wasn't the bear itself that caught his attention, it was what lay attached and apart of its chest.

There, sewn into the very flesh of the beast, was a child.

The child's eyes were rolled back, revealing only the whites of them, and the scalp was completely devoid of hair, leaving the small, twisted form completely vulnerable.

Its mouth hung open, but no sound emerged, only the silent scream of agony, as if trapped between life and death.

Yet, the sight was grotesquely familiar as these abominations littered the rolling hills, seemingly showcasing proudly the adolescent children sewn into their very being.

But this bear was different.

This child was his little brother.

Then, as if his heart couldn't ache any more, the bear unleashed a deafening roar, followed by a terrifying beam of magical energy that shot out, striking some of the Carrion Chimeras under Alexander's legion.

Dexter's breath caught in his throat, he shook his head away but his eyes, however, couldn't look away from the grotesque scene before him.

His little brother convulsed within the bear's chest, writhing in agony as the creature used him as nothing more than a conduit for its destructive power.

"It's all a joke," Dexter muttered, his voice hollow, as the weight of the situation pressed down on him.

He fell to his knees, the words feeling like they carried the crushing weight of an unbearable truth.

That wasn't just a monster, some fallen member of his coven, it was his brother, his baby brother.

His mind refused to accept the reality before him, yet the twisted sight made it undeniable.

As the truth settled in, it shattered him into countless pieces, each fragment of his heart breaking a little more.

He sank deeper into the ground, slumping forward, numb to everything around him, unable to move, to act as the world around him blurred into an intense ringing.

"SNAP OUT OF IT, DEXTER!" Cedric roared, gripping the young man's shoulder and yanking him back into reality.

BOOM

An explosion suddenly exploded next to them, dirt flying into the air and sprinkling onto them as Dexter merely gazed at him with a hollow gaze.

"Listen to me, LISTEN TO ME!" Cedric seethed, grabbing his face and forcing his gaze to look him directly in the eye.

"You must push forward, we must push forward!" Cedric spoke with fierce conviction, his voice cutting through the air despite the turmoil around them.

He refused to let his gaze linger on the grotesque sight of the undead bears, their twisted forms stirring a deep, visceral unease within him and yet, he knew the battle couldn't stop here, not with so much at stake.

"You cannot die here, you cannot die without freeing him from his prison!" Cedric urged, his words sinking into Dexter like a weight, drowning him in a flood of guilt that twisted inside him.

It stirred something deep within, that anger, almost buried and forgotten as Cedric's words ignited it once more.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, DEXTER!" Cedric asked, watching the young man become filled with a rage of conviction.

"YES, ELDER CEDRIC!"

BAM

Meanwhile, Lancelot closed the distance with frightening speed, shooting toward Ricky like a dagger aimed for the heart as his embedded blade reached out, the extension of his rage towards him, aiming to pierce Ricky's flesh.

But just as the tip of the blade drew near, it slammed into an invisible barrier, green and shimmering with energy, that pulsed around Ricky, halting Lancelot's strike in midair.

It was then that a phenomenon occurred with the collision of an immovable object and the prospect of an unstoppable force.

The tip of Lancelot's blade plunged directly into the green barrier of Ricky's will with a sound that could only be described as a violent clash between two worlds, green and black.

As the blade made contact, it seemed to momentarily halt in midair, the raw power from both forces locking in an intense standoff.

Lancelot's monstrous form, fueled by rage and desperation, forced the blade forward with every ounce of strength, but the barrier was impenetrable.

It shimmered like an unyielding force field, an unbreakable will manifesting in the form of an ethereal green glow.

For a brief moment, it was as if time itself had stopped as these two forces met at the threshold, neither willing to give an inch.

Up to this moment , Ricky had never encountered anyone in the otherworld who could pierce through his barrier, his mind, his will, and his unyielding win streak.

Every adversary he'd faced, no matter how formidable, had either crumbled before his relentless resolve or faltered in the face of his indomitable force.

And that win streak would continue.

CRACK

SPLAT

The shock of the collision sent Lancelot's arm jerking back violently as his shoulder immediately dislocated, his flesh splitting as his entire body was thrown backward by the intense backlash of inertia.

The blow left him reeling, the sheer force of it stunning him for a moment, his arm useless and his face contorting in pain.

"Ooooooo, so close~" Ricky taunted, lunging forward with the Ebony Blade to finish the job as he started to cut through the space between them only to feel his danger sense tingle.

BAM

Just before he could finish the swing to cut Lancelot in two, Ricky's instincts kicked in and with lightning speed, he pivoted and delivered a roundhouse kick, his shin connecting with the scaly face of Mordred.

The force of the strike was immense, sending a shockwave through Mordred's body.

Ricky felt the satisfying crunch of bones shattering under his foot as Mordred's head snapped back, his features contorting in pain.

Without hesitation or a moment's thought, Ricky's blade came down in a brutal arc, slicing through the air as a streak of red electricity ran down his spine.

In the next moment, a sickening wet sound resounded as the ebony blade cleaved through him vertically.

Mordred's eyes widened in shock as his body was divided, his once menacing frame now reduced to two parts, crumpling to the ground with a horrifying thud.

The lifeblood poured from the dismembered halves, staining the earth beneath him, as the treacherous knight was silenced once and for all.

BAM

Trying to catch Ricky off guard and pierce his blind spot, Lancelot gathered all his strength into his legs and lunged toward him with ferocious speed.

But just as he closed the distance a small, shimmering barrier materialized right in front of Lancelot's face rather than his entire body.

SNAP

The collision was instant and brutal as Lancelot's face remained frozen in place while his body lurched forward, the force violently dislodging his spine.

A grotesque crack echoed through the battlefield as his head snapped backward at an unnatural angle as his body went limp, collapsing to the ground like a discarded puppet.

But Ricky wasn't done.

With a mere flick of his wrist, green flames erupted from his fingertips, engulfing Lancelot's fallen form as the fire roared hungrily, consuming flesh, armor, and even the earth beneath him,

A shadow loomed over Ricky as Sir Kay, Arthur's foster brother, now twisted into the form of a winged beast, swooped down on him.

His once-human feet had become makeshift talons, mangled to fit that of claws and extended to grip towards Ricky only to have the ebony shield to slam into them.

CRUNCH

Ricky mangled them even further as the force crumpled them backwards, showing Sir Kay that his attack had not only failed, but backfired.

Flapping his wings, a gust of air resounded as he turned his head upwards only for his ethereal arms to launch towards the monster as it desperately tried to escape into the sky, only for three spectral weapons to pierce its body.

Yanking Sir Kay back down, Ricky slammed him into the ground with bone-crushing force.

Momentarily releasing his ebony shield and blade, his hands instead seizing the grotesque wings of the writhing knight beneath his feet.

Sir Kay thrashed, a guttural snarl escaping his twisted form, but Ricky only tightened his grip, before violently pulling back.

SPLAT

Black blood spattered across Ricky's body, yet he only laughed in a deep, unhinged tone, reveling in the carnage of fcking up Merlyn's sht.

With a casual toss, he discarded the torn wings, sending them fluttering uselessly to the side.

Then, without missing a beat, he called back his ebony artifacts as they responded instantly, slicing through the air before landing perfectly in his waiting palms.

"This can't be it, Merlyn! F*cking come out and face me already!" Ricky bellowed into the sky, his voice echoing across the battlefield as he raised his shield.

Sir Gaheris and Sir Gawain lunged at him in unison, but before their blades could reach him, a streak of red electricity flashed through the air, slicing cleanly across their waists.

Ricky took another step forward, unfazed and behind him, both knights split apart, their bisected forms collapsing to the ground.

His eyes burned with a fierce green glow as he lunged, his ebony blade driving straight through the final knight, impaling him in one decisive strike.

Sir Agravain, his faceless mirrored helm reflecting Ricky's fierce gaze, stood frozen as the ebony blade drove deep into his decayed flesh.

His body jerked backward slightly, the weapon settling into his rotting core, yet he still attempted to swing his sword.

BAM

Ricky's ebony shield intercepted the attack with a resounding clash and wasting no time, he lunged forward and slammed his helmet into Agravain's, the impact sending fissures spider webbing across the burnt surface.

Before the knight could react, Ricky's blade arced upward in a brutal slash, cleaving through his rotted form, splitting him apart in a spray of blackened ichor that was now his blood.

"MERLYN, I'M DONE PLAYING THIS F*CKING GAME OF CAT AND MOUSE! STOP BEING SUCH A PUSSY AND FACE ME!" Ricky bellowed into the sky, his voice laced with fury. His patience had long since burned away, scorched by the relentless gauntlet of knights and monsters.

This whole ordeal, this over-the-top bullsh*t, was nothing more than an exhausting, drawn-out spectacle as he wasn't here to play through some ancient drama.

He wanted to end it right here, right now.

Merlyn remained silent, only watching through his crystal ball as Ricky's frustration mounted with each passing second.

"Fine. I'll just take your sh*t now, and then come kick your ass later." Ricky muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he traced symbols into the dirt around Sir Agravain's body. He then extended his hand, commanding it back to life.

"Get up."

But instead of the usual ding of confirmation, a heavy, unsettling silence hung in the air as Ricky's brow furrowed in confusion since it was obvious to anyone he had killed them, and yet, there was nothing.

Then, a slow, creeping movement behind him caught his attention as he didn't need to look to know something was wrong.

Turning, he saw a burnt figure rising to its feet, one that should have remained lifeless.

Lancelot was still alive.

"You cannot raise the dead of something that cannot be killed-"

"Ugh, disgusting," Ricky interrupted Lancelot's chilling monologue, his face contorting in disgust as he fought the urge to vomit.

Lancelot's body wasn't merely reanimated; it was a grotesque fusion of insects and decaying flesh.

Swarming creatures crawled over him, burrowing into the gaps in his skin, laying eggs that seemed to pulse as they began to heal and regenerate the dead areas of his form.

The once-proud knight was now a horrific amalgamation of man and pestilence, a mockery of life, stitched together by the very creatures that had claimed his humanity and yet still, he clung onto life.

The scene unfolded before Ricky like a twisted display of resilience of what immortality can truly look like.

Sir Mordred's body, once cut in two, began to scab back together, the torn flesh knitting itself as if by some unholy magic.

His limbs reformed, cracking and creaking as the once-dead knight rose, whole again, though not in any recognizable form of life.

Meanwhile, Sir Kay's mutilated body slowly twisted and contorted as another pair of wings erupted from his back, grotesquely extending like a demonic mockery of flight.

Sir Gawine, his form melted beyond recognition, gradually reshaped itself like wax in the sun, his body flowing and reforming until he once again stood.

Sir Gaheris, not to be outdone, was reconstructing himself in a far more unsettling way.

Ashes swirled around his disintegrating form, gathering to refashion his missing pieces that reshaped into his fully intact, flawed form.

As for Sir Agravain, his attempts to reform manifested as familiar tendrils of twisted energy and strange, dark magic wrenched themselves from his body, trying to piece him back together.

Although these knights didn't possess the overwhelming power like Lady Roma, what made them truly dangerous wasn't their sheer strength, it was their unnerving longevity.

Merlyn had cursed them, binding them to a twisted, unnatural stream of immortality, a tether that wrapped tightly around his fingers.

He wasn't foolish enough to create beings that were beyond his control, but these knights had been powerful figures in their time.

Their names were legends for a reason and remembered as powerful figures on their time.

Merlyn, ever the manipulator, had stolen much of their power, siphoning their once-mighty abilities and transplanting them into these grotesque, horror-filled healing factors.

It was this infusion of their former strength, paired with the unnerving regeneration bestowed upon them, that made these knights so terrifying.

No matter how much damage Ricky inflicted upon them, their cursed forms healed, their bodies relentlessly stitching themselves back together.

Merlyn had turned them into a perverse form of immortality, making them nearly impossible to defeat, not because of raw power, but because they could never truly die.

"What the f*ck?"

"What will you do now, Ricky?" Merlyn wondered out loud, seemingly waiting for Ricky to show him something that would once again surprise him.

It was at this moment, as the knights slowly rose to their feet, that Ricky found himself trapped in a conundrum he never wanted to be in, yet one he couldn't escape.

Instead of succumbing to the situation, playing along, or cursing his fate, Ricky decided to show Merlyn one of his hidden cards as an idea flashed in his mind.

'Ah, what the hell.' Ricky muttered, tossing his ebony shield aside, gripping the newly regenerated neck of Sir Agravain and in another fluid motion, he drove his sword deep into the knight's heart.

"It's pointless, surrender or-"

"You're right, I can't raise the living," Ricky said, laughing wildly as he turned back to Lancelot, the ebony blade once again impaling him.

"But if I temporarily erase your immortality, can I still raise you from the dead?" Ricky mused aloud, his voice laced with intrigue.

The knights were confused, not understanding his intent, until Ricky formed a barrier around himself, isolating him and his new experiment.

'No longer human, immortality.' Ricky muttered in his mind, his arm swirling with blue rings as the energy flared wildly, causing Merlyn's eyes to widen as he stood up from his seat.

Honestly, although it was true that they were immortal, under the influence of Ricky's new skill, nothing was truly immune to him anymore.

As long as he touched them, disabled their immortality, and inscribed the runes of undead revival in the dirt, he could turn them into immortal undead at will.

DING

Then, before the eyes of the other five knights, they watched as Sir Agravain rose from one master's hold into another.

Merlyn felt his link to the knight sever, the strings of their control slipping from his grasp and falling into Ricky's hands.

BAM

Merlyn slammed his hands onto the desk, leaning in as his eyes illuminated the scene before him.

But instead of hatred or rage, a smile bloomed on his usually decrepit face, a grin, twisted yet sincere, free of half-truths and deceit that he always wore, a truly genuine smile.

(Legendary Servant) Sir Agravain, the Hollow Betrayer: Once a knight renowned for his cunning, Sir Agravain's punishment for treachery was far worse than death. Now converted into a death knight, his traits remain the same as they once were except under the control of Ricky.

Abilities:

Eternal Undone: Sir Agravain cannot be permanently slain since when he is struck down, grotesque tendrils of blackened flesh surge from his wounds, knitting his body back together.

Marionette's Grace: His movements are unpredictable and unnatural, making him difficult to anticipate. His attacks come from impossible angles, as if his body is merely a puppet animated by some eldritch force.

Hollow Reflection: His mirrored helm warps reality, showing enemies their own worst sins and regrets.

"No, NO!" Sir Agravain cried out, the transfer of ownership restoring his tongue, allowing him to spew his agony in a garbled, horrid symphony of wails.

"From one master to another,have my sins not been punished enough? HAVE THEY NOT!" Sir Agravain screamed, his voice steeped in misery, echoing his eternal torment.

"Oh come on man, what happened to wanting to murder and shi-"

"I want to die! I have committed vile sins and I was atoning for them! I never meant to spend my life drenched in blood, moving from one wicked one to another!" Sir Agravain bellowed at his new master, clutching his mirrored helm, the cursed reflection of every regret he had ever borne.

"All I ever wanted to do was to be buried in my garden and now, I shall never see it's beauty again~" Sir Agravain whined, flopping down onto the ground since his life was a living hell deserving of wallowing.

BOOM

An explosion rippled behind Ricky, but he remained nonchalant as smoke billowed into the sky.

Through the haze, Bucephalus charged forward, Alexander at his back, beckoning his undead to advance further as they stormed the breach in the enemy formation.

"Oh, don't do that. Don't make me the bigger asshole, you attacked me first-"

"Because I was forced to~" Sir Agravain whined, his head hitting the ground over and over again.

"Alright, well, you can hate me even more afterward, but I gotta go steal all of Merlyn's sh*t, that includes you damned knights or whatever you call yourselves," Ricky said, gesturing toward the five cursed warriors as four of them flinched.

Their lives had been twisted into a cruel game of carrot and stick.

Merlyn, the architect of their immortality, had filled them with such an overwhelming force of life that they could not die, yet they remained bound by his influence.

They couldn't escape it, but they could still resist, still struggle against the pull of his control.

However, each moment they fought it, they only grew weaker, trapped in a cycle of resistance that sapped their strength.

In this way, Merlyn had cleverly circumvented this resistance by dangling the promise of death before them, a death that would come once the promised king returned.

It was a distant hope, a slim chance, but to these knights, it was the only lifeline they had left.

They had accepted this, however reluctantly, and clung to the idea that they would eventually be freed.

But now, faced with the prospect of being thrust into Ricky's control, they realized just how hopeless their situation had become upon gazing at their once damned knight.

Sir Agravain, still writhing in grief and regret, slowly rose to his knees at his new master's command.

There was no resistance because he couldn't as his eyes turned toward the other knights, the weight of his own helplessness mirrored in their gazes.

It was a moment of finality, showing the four what their fate could be if they were no longer bound to Merlyn and trapped by the grip of a new master.

The lingering hope of death was fading, replaced by the certainty of their new servitude.

It was in that moment, driven by the crushing realization of what could be their new fate, that the four knights defied Merlyn's control with every ounce of strength they had left.

Desperation flooded their veins as they resisted the pull, not charging at Ricky, but retreating from him, attempting to break away from the crushing grip of both Merlyn and Ricky's power.

They tried to escape, to distance themselves from the cruel joke life had played on them.

But it was just saddening that Ricky wasn't going to let them go so easily and with a wave of his hand, the air around them thickened.

A barrier materialized, a shimmering wall of force that snapped into place, trapping them in a box.

The walls of the cage pulsed with power, sealing them in with Ricky at its center.

As the knights struggled against the cage, their movements became frantic as this all seemed like some cruel joke but Ricky was the only one laughing.

But as the others floundered, their resistance crumbling under the weight of Ricky's power, Lancelot remained steadfast. Unlike the others, whose desperation made them seek escape, Lancelot stood tall before Ricky, his posture unwavering.

His eyes, cold and resolute, locked onto Ricky with a level of determination that was unshakable.

While the others struggled against their chains, Lancelot had already accepted his fate as his will was bent but not broken, willing to fight under Merlyn's control rather than bow to Ricky.

He had no hope of regaining his freedom, not in the traditional sense.

But he could still fight, could still make a stand, even if that stand meant serving under the command of another.

His resolve was more than simple obedience; it was a battle against the notion of his power being usurped by another, even if that meant submitting to the control he had once fought against.

"Do it now, Lancelot. You have done well in showing your weakness, for Ricky will think your attempt is worthless and give you time to act." Merlyn whispered into the damned knight's ear, his voice a cold, insidious murmur meant for only Lancelot to hear.

"Do you know what the cruelest type of man is?" Lancelot asked towards Ricky, his hollow black gazing through the creeks of his rusted black armor.

"Let me guess, it's me, I'm the big bad monster who-"

"The greatest crimes are not committed by villains, but by those who believe themselves righteous." Lancelot spoke, his words drawing his body upwards along with the blade attached to his arm.

"A man convinced of his own virtue will justify any cruelty, any betrayal, and so, he becomes far more dangerous than the one who knows what he is." Lancelot's words hummed out, lunging at Ricky who readied his shield.

CLANG

"It is easy to denounce the monster, but far more difficult to understand the good man." Lancelot continued, his arm blade shot up into the air as Ricky slammed the ebony shield into it.

"Do not trust the man who boasts of his goodness." Lancelot continued, watching Ricky slice off his arm before a spectral arm shot out towards his neck.

"Trust the one who knows his own darkness and masters it," Lance muttered, his voice strained as black blood sputtered from his mouth. Ricky yanked him deeper into his sword, and with a flick of his ethereal hand, blue rings of light flickered to life, activating his new mythical skill. He traced intricate runes into the dirt beneath them.

"Anything else to add before I make you into my pseudo-slave?" Ricky asked, his tone casual, unfazed by the weight of what he was about to do. Merlyn watched, a twisted smile curling on his lips.

"We are all monsters, but some of us are just better at hiding it," Lancelot murmured, his voice thick and rasping as black blood dripped from his rotted chin. Slowly, he lifted the branch that had been hanging at his waist the entire time.

Ricky, who had been staring indifferently at the ground while carving runes, suddenly froze as his eyes widened in disbelief, the calmness draining from his face as his danger sense screamed at a pitch far higher than anything he had ever felt before.

Ricky's gaze snapped to the side, locking with Lancelot's, whose sickening, twisted smile seemed to stretch impossibly wide.

Before Ricky could even think to act, Lancelot's hand, trembling with unnatural strength, crushed the tree branch in his grip.

"This time, I was better at hiding it."

Crack

The sound of the branch snapping was like a sonic boom, the sheer force of it warping the very fabric of space around them.

The air itself seemed to buckle under the pressure, twisting and distorting as if reality itself couldn't keep up.

Ricky's eyes widened in horror, realizing the gravity of the moment from the sheer ringing of his danger sense, but it was too late.

Before he could move, before he could even think a single thought, before he could even comprehend what was happening, their bodies morphed together into something unnatural.

A swirling vortex opened beneath them, an event horizon of shifting shadows and light, pulling them into a wormhole with a force that left no room for escape.

The world around them bent and folded as the darkness enveloped them completely, erasing everything in a flash of blinding intensity as it was so fast that it left Ricky void of any last thoughts.

"RICKY!" Alexander yelled, his voice cutting through the air with a raw desperation as he watched the young man vanish into the vortex. The space around them shuddered, the fabric of reality warping and twisting as if struggling to heal itself from the catastrophic damage caused by the wormhole.

Alexander's eyes burned with determination, his fists clenching at his sides as the remnants of the swirling darkness threatened to reclaim him. The world around him seemed to freeze for a moment, the very air thick with tension, as if time itself had momentarily stalled.

"BUCEPHALUS, FORWARD!" Alexander roared, his voice a battle cry, as the chaos settled into an eerie silence. His eyes narrowed on the dark gate before him, a swirling abyss that could have led to any shadowed corner of the world—or worse.

Without hesitation, Bucephalus, the mighty steed, charged forward with an undeniable power.

The beast's hooves pounded against the ground, its body a blur of motion as it tore through the remnants of the distorted reality.

But then, reality set in as before Alexander's bead little eyes, the abyss began to collapse in on itself, its edges folding inwards like the jaws of a beast closing on its prey.

The wormhole would close before Bucephalus could even make it halfway.

Alexander's heart skipped a beat as his eyes widened, a sudden wave of urgency crashing over him.

Time was running out, and in that split second of hesitance a cold realization gripped him, the door was closing and he wasn't going to make it while riding Bucephalus.

But then, his gaze hardened, his chest swelling with an unshakeable resolve, one that only a man staring death in the face could possess as his mind was set.

"Bucephalus, with all your might, you must launch me forward-"

Snort

"I WOULD RATHER DIE DOING SOMETHING THAN LIVE HAVE DONE NOTHING AT ALL!"

The air around them seemed to freeze as Alexander's declaration rang true in Bucephalus's very bones.

The sentiment could not be refuted and the mighty steed, adhering to its rider's will, sparked something deep inside of him.

BOOM

Lightning struck the ground in that instant as a jagged crack of raw energy was seen splitting from the sky above.

Bucephalus's mighty body resonated with the light, its form outlined in the crackling brilliance as the beast jerked its head back.

The force was immense, sending shockwaves through the air, and in the brief moment, Alexander scurried up onto the horse's back, climbing with the urgency of a gerbil whose very life hung in the balance.

Bucephalus, now with his master firmly in place, whipped his head forward, his powerful muscles tensing in preparation for the final push.

WHOOSH

The air around them rippled as if the fabric of reality itself had been torn and with this display of power, Alexander was launched forward with an unimaginable speed.

His body, once tethered to the earth, was now nothing more than a blur against the backdrop of shifting space.

The ground beneath him vanished, the wind a furious blur as he shot through the air, his heart racing faster than his body could follow.

The wormhole was closing, its edges folding in like the jaw of a great beast, slowly shutting and swallowing its prey.

Alexander's eyes didn't widen, but squinted as he reached out, his hand stretched toward the gap, his little finger grazing the edge of the closing portal before it missed.

"I WILL MAKE IT!"

Alexander roared, the sound reverberating through the air like thunder as he willed his claw forward, reaching for the impossibly small dot in the distance, no larger than a molecule.

The gap between them was closing faster than he could move, the wormhole tightening with a relentless hunger.

Yet, the burning fire within him, the fire that had sustained him through countless battles, surged to the forefront.

His golden aura flared around him, a blinding light that surged from his body like a violent storm, pushing him forward with an intensity that defied the very laws of physics.

His muscles screamed in protest as he extended his claw further, the strain of the distance and speed pushing his limits.

Alexander couldn't even see the dot as it had grown too small for any one being to gaze upon it and yet, he believed he could make it, that he would make it.

With a final, all-consuming effort, Alexander reached out, his claw scraping through the last remnants of the wormhole's grip, his fingers closing around the smallest fragment of the gap.

And then, with a force that shattered the air itself, he reached forward towards the impossible for he was Alexander the great.

The one who reached towards nothingness and disappeared.

BOOM

The battlefield erupted from the backlash of distorting space as Asterion, who had been rushing towards the space in pursuit as well, was blown backward by the sheer force of the explosion.

The big brooding minotaur wasn't nearly fast enough to reach it in time.

"RICKY, ALEXANDER!" Asterion bellowed, his voice laced with urgency and desperation as he gazed up at the now empty space.

The two, along with Lancelot, had vanished without a trace as the world seemed to hold its breath at the reality that the void had swallowed them whole.

The four damned knights, who had been locked in a desperate struggle to escape, watched in silence as the barrier around them began to melt away. Asterion, still reeling from the loss, looked around at the disorienting sight before him.

"Stop your meaningless escape and grab my daughter." Merlyn's voice cut through the air, cold and commanding.

His backup plan had been firmly set in motion at someone being compromised by the threat, forcing the four knights to slowly turn toward Asterion, who had fallen to his knees, a figure broken by the weight of his loss.

But before they could fully process the scene, Asterion's eyes burned with a fierce rage as a red aura began to radiate from the white minotaur, surrounding him like a storm ready to break.

His grief twisted into fury as the pulse of his anger echoed through the air, shaking the ground beneath him.

"What have you done with my friends."

Meanwhile at the Starlight Citadel,

Around 5 minutes earlier,

A purple portal arrived within the lobby of the starlight citadel, acting as a door for the figures that slowly exited.

"And here I thought it would be a warmer welcome." Morgana chuckled, looking around at the desolate and empty Starlight citadel.

"Ah, as poorly decorated as ever," Morgana chuckled, her eyes scanning the same dull white and gold colors that had plagued the Citadel the last time he tried to seize control.

The familiar scent of stale power hung in the air as black skeletons began to march out of the portal, their skeletal feet clanking on the stone floor.

Soon, the coven members followed, with Cedric leading the charge, gazing around at the place he had only ever heard about.

Clap

Clap

"Come now, you can gawk and awe after we take the command center." Morgana clapped her hands, grabbing the attention of the coven members who snapped their heads back to him.

"This way," Morgana gestured, her hands extending as she directed the coven members to turn a specific corner as the others exchanged hesitant glances but obediently followed her lead.

Cedric was the first to step forward, casting a sidelong glance at Morgana before rounding the corner.

The black skeletons, moving like an eerie tide, blended seamlessly into the procession, their hollow eyes glinting as they carried the undead in their wake.

As Cedric walked, he kept a vigilant eye on his surroundings as the corridors were impossible to get lost in, their layout too familiar.

He quickly scanned over his shoulder to ensure no one had strayed, but before he could process anything further, he was swiftly pushed to the end of the corridor.

"Morgana-"

"Yes?" Morgana asked, her voice laced with impatience as she walked behind a timid witch, pushing her forward with a firm shove as the witch stumbled, barely managing to keep her footing.

"Must you be so-" Cedric began, his words trailing off as he rushed forward towards the falling witch.

"Yes, I've waited centuries and I'd rather not wait another second." Morgana interrupted Cedric, watching him catch the witch and help her to her feet.

"So let us use it to its fullest rather than waste even a moment's sliver." Morgana said, swaying her hips back and forth as she led them forward.

Morgana led the charge toward the vault-like doors that stood between her and the beginning of her long-awaited destiny.

However, instead of using magic or force to pry open the doors, they creaked slowly, revealing a lone woman standing on the other side of the corridor.

"Greetings your majesty, I am Opal Luna Saturnyne." Saturnyne curtsied, addressing Morgana who swayed her hips back and forth while marching towards the control booth.

"You can drop the act, I can already tell you are one of his drones-"

"Actually, she is not."

Then, on the big screen, Merlyn's image appeared, his eyes locking onto Morgana as she glanced up at him as her fingers danced across the control panel, typing rapidly to gain complete control of the Citadel.

"Saturnyne was supposed to be on the retreating vessel, heading towards Camelot," Merlyn sighed, his voice heavy with disappointment.

"Yet here I find my daughter's closest aide still lingering on the desolate Citadel." Merlyn's eyes, however, told a different story, one of quiet resignation, as if he had expected this betrayal all along.

"How pitiful." Morgana said, smirking after getting control of the citadel as she gazed back up at Merlyn.

"But I am disappointed, Merlyn, since I thought you'd have something under those ragged sleeves of yours," Morgana said with a sly smile, tapping the control booth as it pulsed with a dark purple hue, signaling that she had, indeed, seized control.

Sigh

Merlyn let out a haggard sigh, his eyes lingering on Morgana, as though silently asking him to challenge her. It was a shame he had to finally play this card, after holding it back for so long.

"Do it now, Cedric."

Suddenly, both Saturnyne and Morgana turned, eyes wide, as Cedric lunged toward them.

One hand held a small purple ball, glowing ominously in his palm, while the other gripped a dagger, its edge catching the dim light of the room.

BOOM

The floating purple ball exploded in Cedric's hand like a pulse, radiating through the room.

Immediately, any magic that had been gathering around the room instantly vanished, like vapor in the wind.

Without a second's hesitation, Cedric swung the dagger across Morgana's throat, the blade biting into her flesh with a swift, practiced motion.

SPLAT

Blood poured from the gaping wound as Morgana's hands instinctively shot up to clutch at her neck, her body already losing its strength.

The warm crimson liquid seeped through her fingers, pooling around her as she collapsed to her knees, her breath ragged and strained.

With every second, the flow seemed to intensify, drowning her in her own life force as she fell further, her body writhing, the floor beneath her slowly being stained red as she struggled to remain conscious.

Saturnyne stood motionless at the side, slowly raising her hands with its cause being the dagger still pressed to her throat.

Cedric didn't move further, not even a twitch, waiting for Merlyn's next orders.

From above, Merlyn's voice emanated through the orb, a low chuckle escaping his lips.

"Oh Saturnyne, how could you do this~" Merlyn said, his voice dripping with mock sorrow, a theatrically pained expression playing across his face.

"You can drop the act. I know everything." Saturnyne's eyes narrowed, her gaze flicking to the bleeding corpse of Morgana.

She didn't flinch at the sight, her voice as cold and unyielding as steel as Merlyn leaned in closer to the orb, his chuckles echoing through the chamber.

"Oh, you do now?" Merlyn asked, amusement clearly lacing his tone.

He seemed to find the whole situation oddly entertaining, even with the blood pooling around Morgana's still form.

His eyes gleamed as if waiting for something to take place before he dropped this performance.

Saturnyne's lips twisted into a scowl as she glared at him, refusing to let his theatrics faze her.

"I know it was you, I realized it was all because of you," Saturnyne said, switching her eyes as Merlyn slowly nodded.

"You must be more specific, my dear, for I am responsible for too many atrocities to count," Merlyn said, nodding his head to the side before gazing back at her.

"On my world-"

"Yes, yes, I caused your civil war that killed millions, is that it?" Merlyn asked, admitting it with such a nonchalant demeanor that it actually left Saturnyne speechless.

"And Morgana, you can stop messing around now." Merlyn side-eyed a certain witch huddled off to the side with the other coven members, the same one that Cedric had helped up after stumbling.

"Oh, can I?" Morgana said, chuckling from the pack of shocked coven members as she slowly took off her ring, revealing herself.

The device she'd been wearing began to hum softly, allowing magic to return to the room.

What Cedric had denoted was an anti-magic EMP of sorts, disrupting the flow of magic and making it nearly impossible to cast spells while it was active while Morgana's device neutralized the ripples and allowed the current of magic to flow once more.

"So, is this one of the supposed 'weeds' I've heard so much about?" Morgana asked, watching as Cedric's grimoire began to open as she rolled her eyes, unimpressed by the display.

"BILLOWING WIN-"

"Crushing horde," Morgana uttered, her voice cold and commanding as she stuck out her hand that glowed with a purple hue.

A massive surge of purple magic erupted from her hands, transforming into a torrent of damned souls—twisted remnants of those she had claimed before.

The air itself trembled under the weight of the spell, and the seismic wind ripped through the space, sinking deeper and deeper into the ground.

Cedric's body began to sink into the very earth beneath him, as though it had turned to quicksand.

The more he struggled, the more tightly the spell gripped him, pulling him deeper into its grasp.

The souls, distorted and vengeful, wrapped around him, binding him to their eternal torment.

His grimoire fluttered desperately, but the oppressive magic made it impossible to cast anything in his defense.

The souls twisted and spiraled around Cedric, coalescing into dark, spectral chains that bound every inch of his being.

Each link dug into his skin, anchoring him to the ground, and with a sudden, violent tug, they pulled him downwards.

He was forced to his knees, the pressure unbearable as the chains held him in place.

The purple light from the chains flickered as Cedric struggled to move, his efforts futile against the overwhelming force of Morgana's magic.

His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his body trapped beneath the weight of the spell.

Through the heavy silence, Cedric heard the sharp, rhythmic sound of Morgana's heels clicking on the floor.

Each step resonated through the room, growing louder as she walked toward the monitoring booth.

The entire point of bringing the coven members had been to disguise herself as one of them, a precaution to prevent herself from falling victim to plots like the one that had just unfolded.

The Morgana who had been bleeding out, the one they had all thought was her, was in fact the original witch, the real Morgana's true form, finally revealed.

"I must say Merlyn, you are looking as wrinkled as ever." Morgana commented, walking forward and standing before the large projection of Merlyn.

"Yes, well, it's more about what's inside, don't you think?" Merlyn joked back, stroking his beard at the defiant sorceress who had finally been free.

"I didn't know you veiled yourself in rotting black waste," Morgana countered, earning a slight chuckle from him.

"Oh, Morgana, still the same as ever," Merlyn replied. Morgana glanced to the side, watching Ricky fight Lancelot as she extended her hand.

"Yes, well, it was fun catching up with you, but I have to go-" Morgana began to cast a spell, only to freeze, her eyes narrowing as she realized something crucial.

Morgana's teeth gritted together, her entire body trembling as the realization washed over her, there was a barrier suddenly placed around the Citadel.

The second Morgana stepped foot into this place, Merlyn had already begun casting the barrier, calmly waiting for her to enter the trap.

He hadn't expected Saturnyne to be a part of it, but he would deal with her afterward.

"You used him as a decoy-"

"I played into your willingness to, how do you say, one-up me," Merlyn chuckled, his gaze settling on Morgana with a disappointed look.

"You spent how many centuries trapped under my spell? Did you honestly think I couldn't do it again?" Merlyn asked, genuinely curious, watching as Morgana furiously stared out the window.

When Morgana turned back to the screen, her eyes widened as she saw the sight of Lancelot crushing the branch, a twisted smile on his face as the space around them warped and Ricky was transported away.

The image on the screen flickered briefly, the shift in reality leaving her with a sharp sense of urgency.

"But don't worry, once Ricky returns then I'll let you out-"

"YOU BASTARD!" Morgana screamed, clutching her head as frustration boiled over.

She was sick of being played with, and her control began to crack and in a childish fit of rage, she started brandishing her magic, the raw power swirling dangerously around her.

Though cunning, her greatest flaw was her unwavering belief that in any room, she was the smartest.

Merlyn, ever the calm and calculating presence, watched her tantrum with a disappointed gaze.

He said nothing, letting her frustration unfold, until she finally huffed, exhaling sharply as the storm of her emotions began to calm.

"Is it true?" Morgana suddenly asked, her voice laced with a hint of disbelief as her hair hung loosely around her face, casting shadows that framed her features as her piercing green eyes bore into Merlyn.

"Yes, yes, I am a horrible scum-"

"Is it true you sealed me away because I wanted the throne and not Camelot's destruction?" Morgana asked, her tongue seething with anger as she glared at Merlyn.

Merlyn stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable before knowing that she could no longer deny the inevitable which is the only reason he humored her at this moment.

"I sealed you away because you were weak," Merlyn said finally, his tone cold and dismissive.

"I taught you that the strong always dictate reality, and the weak were always meant to bend." Merlyn lectured, sighing at his sheer disappointment for the woman he had once hoped would be different, but like all the other Morgana's, she was a failure.

"But if you couldn't disrupt the flow nor follow it, what use were you?" Merlyn genuinely asked, watching hsi words infuriated her to the very core.

"MERLYN-"

"But don't worry, at least you can enjoy the show." Merlyn signaled, changing the view to the sight of New York and his little weeds that were slowly descending in on it.

"I'm sure Ricky won't be too pleased with you after he learns that you failed in your observations and let me abduct his children, then kill the useless ones," Merlyn's words struck Morgana like a slap.

Her eyes shrank, and she instinctively reached for her face, feeling the sudden surge of dread.

The barrier had sealed her ability to contact her vessel, trapping her in this tense, suffocating silence.

"You monster." Morgana whispered, unable to believe that she had yet again, played into his trap and was failing in the one aspect Ricky asked of her.

"I am willing to be a monster if it means that Arthur-" Merlyn had a solemn gaze, only for Morgana to burst forth with a purple power.

"ARTHUR IS DEAD, HE DIED, THIS IS ALL A F*CKING FANTASY!" Morgana screamed, slamming her palms onto the control panel and gazing up at Merlyn.

"YOU CAN'T RESURRECT SOMEONE WHOSE SOUL VANISHED FROM HIS BODY, I SAW IT!" Morgana yelled, the memory of Arthur's soul being ripped from his body flooding her mind.

The image of his final moments haunted her, his essence torn away, leaving only an empty shell.

She could still hear the echoes of that moment, and the thought of it made her voice tremble with both anger and disbelief.

"We all saw, all of us saw the moment when Necromon ripped his heart out and took his soul with him as Arthur sealed him off, sacrificing himself to protect us, ALL OF US!" Morgana screamed, her voice cracking with fury as she locked eyes with Merlyn.

But his expression remained resolute, unshaken by the storm of emotions surging within her.

"A body cannot function without a soul. It's impossible to resurrect him unless you want a hollow shell, like those grotesque beings you call Chimera's." Morgana laughed bitterly, her disbelief swirling in the air as she stared at Merlyn.

He remained silent, his cold gaze unwavering, waiting for her to finish her tirade, as if he knew something she didn't, something that made her words seem meaningless in the grand scheme of things.

"You can't bring him back-"

"I can, if I have enough energy." Merlyn's voice resonated within the space, gazing at Morgana who looked up.

"What?"

"If I have enough energy, I can reach into the void and resurrect him." Merlyn spoke, his eyes filled with nothing but conviction as everything up until now had been for this very thing.

"How is that even possible?" Morgana laughed, turning her head upwards towards Merlyn since it seemed unrealistic.

"Unless-" Morgana was about to say something only for her face to pale, shaking slightly as Merlyn's cold eyes stared back at her.

"Yes, it is true, in Camelot's greatest need, Arthur will be resurrected." Merlyn revealed, looking on towards Morgana who was left utterly speechless.

"I have bound Arthru's hollow shell of a body to the great city of Camelot, connecting them into a symbiotic union." Merlyn finally revealed his words leaving even Saturnyne shocked beyond belief.

The reason Camelot had been stuck in stagnation for so long, unable to break free from the chains of medieval times, was because it couldn't grow without Arthur.

And Arthur couldn't live without Camelot.

But now, with Arthur's body reduced to nothing but a hollow shell, Camelot itself, once a great city, had become a mere echo, a hollow shell of a theatrical play, trapped in time, playing out its last act without the force that had once breathed life into it.

"Don't you see?" Merlyn's voice was laced with mania, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling fervor.

"I've perfectly connected these two beings that shouldn't be able to be formed into one, through the chain, the tether, that is otherworldly." Merlyn's gaze shifted between Morgana and Saturnyne, who both stared at him, a mixture of disbelief and quiet horror in their eyes.

"By harnessing the energy of the void and purifying it through the Starlight Citadel, I have kept the greatest symbiotic nature known to man alive! I HAVE KEPT ARTHUR ALIVE!" Merlyn laughed maniacally, his genius seemingly boundless.

His words echoed with an intensity that shook the very air, as though the laws of reality themselves bent and twisted under the weight of his ambitions.

If the rules of the ordinary world held true, it would be impossible but in the otherworld, this mythical land, the boundaries were different, and Merlyn reveled in that power.

"But it all became ruined by that blasted Necronium!" Merlyn seethed, his fists clenching as the memory of that fateful event surged back, unraveling his carefully laid plans.

The very thought of that neither god's interference burned through him.

Everything he had worked for, everything he had sacrificed, was destroyed in an instant by its chaotic force.

"That horrid creature took Arthur's soul with him and forced me to another alternative, which is what I've led up to today." Merlyn spread his arms wide, gesturing toward a grotesque creation unfolding before them.

The air shimmered with dark energy as the massive construct emerged, its form twisted and unnatural, a perverse blend of magic and science. It was a monstrosity, a reflection of his desperation and obsession, born from the wreckage of his shattered plans.

He smiled, a gleam of madness in his eyes, as if this abomination was the culmination of his brilliance, even if it came at the cost of everything he had once believed in.

"Otherworld is not simply a dimension, but a living being, a living being that reacts out of instinct, like any other," Merlyn continued, his voice growing more fervent as he spoke.

"And this, the limit of human innovation, will exemplify the connection I put in place when using Otherworld as a tether to connect Arthur and Camelot," Merlyn explained, his voice brimming with an almost manic excitement.

"It will trick this being into believing that all of its feelings, its desires, are those of these two." Merlyn gestured to the grotesque black orb that loomed before them, its surface a shifting mass of mechanical tendrils and dark energy, pulsing with a rhythm that seemed far too alien for this world.

It was an unnatural creation, a fusion of magic and science beyond comprehension, and yet Merlyn stood before it, utterly proud.

"When Ricky threatens to destroy everything after he learns the truth of the reality of his family and comes to destroy everything, this machine will make Otherworld respond." Merlyn continued, his voice laced with a dark anticipation for what was to come.

"Like any living being, Otherworld it will act on instinct." Merlyn's gaze fixed on the grotesque orb, its pulsing energy intensifying, as though it understood his every word as he smiled, a twisted satisfaction on his face.

"It'll funnel energy to protect itself and thus, I will harness that energy to amplify this beacon and draw out Arthur's soul from the void and finally bring his glory back into the known world." Merlyn's eyes sparkled with fanatic intensity as he finished his words.

"Finally, Camelot's glory will return, and Arthur will rise again. The world will bow before him, and my genius will be immortalized as I prove her wrong." Merlyn held up his hands, laughing at it all since everything was coming to fruition as he had planned it too.

What Merlyn is essentially saying is that the psychology of Arthur and Camelot have been bound together like a rope, tethered together by Otherworld.

Otherworld isn't just a place, it's an actual living being, not like any normal dimension, but a being that exists purely to exist.

It isn't conscious in the way we understand consciousness; it simply reacts like any animal, acting purely on instinct.

So, if Ricky threatens Arthur and Camelot to the point of complete destruction, he isn't just threatening those two, it's as if he's threatening Otherworld itself.

And Otherworld, acting on its primal instinct to protect itself, will respond defensively to the threat, leading to a cascade of events Merlyn can manipulate to bring Arthur's soul back from the void.

"A prophecy is just words that are meant to be morphed by hands." Merlyn muttered to himself, turning towards the two.

"You're probably wondering why I'm telling you this, right?" Merlyn suddenly asked, looking towards the completely shocked two.

"It's because I know it's impossible for you to change the outcome I've set up." Merlyn subtly bragged, literally telling them that no matter what they did, he would get his way in the end.

"Well, that wouldn't stop you so I shall leave you with that." Merlyn chuckled madly, placing his hand before the orb.

"Goodbye, Morgana," Merlyn said, cutting off the sight and communicating before leaving one last parting word.

"I'll see you when I'm ready."

Author's Note: You probs won't see it now but I'm gonna take it slow with the Chapters coming up and probably break some of my super long Chapters up instead of posting it all at once like I usually did so I don't get overwhelemed from it all.