Arthur's Odyssey :Rise of the King

Merlin raised a hand to stop Arthur, his gaze locked onto Nimueh. "Enough," he said, his voice steely. "You won't lay a hand on the Life Weapon, or anyone in Camelot. If you value your existence, leave now."

Nimueh's smile didn't waver, but her tone grew icy. "Oh, Merlin," she said softly, her voice like a dagger wrapped in silk. "Do you really think you can stop me? You've grown old, while I..." She spread her arms, her crimson eyes blazing. "I have only grown stronger."

Merlin let out a deep, rumbling laugh, one so filled with genuine amusement it seemed to echo across the training grounds. "Stronger?" he repeated, his voice carrying a mocking edge. He shook his head as if he had just heard the world's most ridiculous joke. "A human who sold her soul to become a bloodthirsty parasite, dares to call herself strong? And me... weak?" He chuckled, his tone turning sharp. "It seems my time away from the battlefield has truly dulled the fear my name once commanded."

The air around Merlin suddenly grew heavy as his aura began to surge. Nimueh's smug smile faltered as she watched his energy rise,Master rank, then Grandmaster, it climbed with an unrelenting force, shaking the very ground beneath them. Her crimson eyes widened as it breached the threshold of the King stage, but even then, it did not stop.

Merlin's form began to change before her eyes. His once-grey hair regained its rich chestnut hue, shining as though imbued with vitality. The wrinkles lining his face smoothed out, replaced by the youthful, sharp features of a man in his prime. His hunched posture straightened as his body surged with newfound strength, his aura growing impossibly vast.

The transformation was complete within moments, and what stood before Nimueh was no longer the old, weary man she had mocked. But a man in his prime, he radiated power, primordial, unshakable, and terrifyingly vast. His piercing green eyes fixed on her, glowing faintly with the intensity of his unleashed potential.

Nimueh trembled, her confidence shattered. She took a stumbling step back, her voice trembling. "D-Divine... metamorphosis..." she stuttered, barely able to speak through her growing fear. Her crimson eyes darted to Merlin's unwavering form. "Y-You've reached the Saint Rank..hh.. how.. even in the past you were always stuck at the master rank..."

Merlin exhaled deeply, the weight of centuries seeming to lift with his breath. When he spoke, his voice was no longer the measured tone of an old sage but that of a man in his prime,calm, powerful, and brimming with authority.

"For three hundred years," Merlin began, his piercing gaze locked on Nimueh, "I've kept this a secret. Masquerading as a mere peak Master Rank, as a failure of a Scion." He paused, the corners of his mouth tugging into a wry smile. "Not even Uther knew my true strength. He believed me to be a Grandmaster Rank simply suppressing my power. I allowed him think that. I even allowed myself to be bound by a soul contract to his son, tethering my life to a child for the sake of his future."

He took a step forward, the ground beneath him cracking from the sheer weight of his aura. Nimueh flinched, her trembling figure betraying the fear coursing through her.

"And yet, here I am," Merlin continued, his tone sharp, almost mocking. "Forced to unveil my power,not by a worthy adversary, not by an imminent threat to Camelot, but by something as trivial as pride. All because a parasite dared to call me weak." His chestnut hair shimmered faintly in the firelight, and his rejuvenated features held a hint of mirth.

He laughed, a deep, resonant sound that echoed across the ruined training grounds. "I suppose Constantine was right after all," he said, his smile growing broader. "I really am a prideful idiot. Hahaha!"

The laughter faded, replaced by a calm, almost serene expression. His fiery aura crackled around him, the air itself bending under its intensity. Merlin's eyes never left Nimueh as he awaited her next move, daring her to challenge the full might of a Saint Rank Scion.

Nimueh trembled, her once confident demeanor shattered as she took a hesitant step back. Her crimson eyes, wide with disbelief, darted over Merlin's transformed form. Words struggled to escape her lips, her voice trembling as she stammered, "Y...y...you... managed to surpass the King stage..." She swallowed hard, as if trying to steady herself, but her voice only grew weaker. "And you... you said you've been at this level for over 300 years...so why?"

Her trembling hand rose to point at him, her tone becoming increasingly frantic. "Why didn't you take control back then? Why didn't you stop the war? Why didn't you save the children?"

Her fear gave way to desperation, her voice cracking as raw anguish filled it. "Why, Emrys?!" she cried, her pale face contorted with grief. Tears welled in her crimson eyes, her anger and sorrow cascading in a torrent of emotion. "WHY?!?"

The question echoed through the ruined training grounds, the weight of her words cutting through the oppressive silence. For the first time, Nimueh's veneer of malice and superiority fell away, revealing the deep pain and bitterness that had festered within her. She stared at Merlin, her expression pleading, searching for an answer to the torment that had haunted her for centuries.

---

Merlin looked at Nimueh, his piercing gaze softening for just a moment as the weight of her anguish washed over him. He sighed deeply, the fire of his avatar flickering as if mirroring his emotions. When he spoke, his voice was calm, but laced with sorrow and resolve.

"Do you think I have not asked myself the same questions, Nimueh?" he said, his tone heavy with the burden of time. "Do you think I haven't woken up countless nights, haunted by the faces of those I failed to save? By the choices I was forced to make?"

He stepped closer, the heat of his aura less oppressive now, though it still radiated an undeniable power. "You speak of war, of children, of salvation... but you know as well as I that no single being, no matter how powerful, can shoulder the fate of the world alone. To wield strength is not the same as having the right to impose it on others."

His eyes narrowed slightly, the pain behind them barely concealed. "And you, Nimueh, would you have followed me then? Would the vampires, the elves, the humans, the beasts, any of them have listened to me, or would they have seen me as another tyrant seeking dominion? Peace cannot be forced. It must be earned, even if it takes centuries."

Merlin's gaze turned hard, his voice lowering into a growl. "And yet, here you are, clinging to bitterness and pain, abandoning the humanity you once had. You dare ask me why I didn't save the children, but tell me, Nimueh, what have you done for them? What have you done for anyone but yourself?"

His words hung in the air like a hammer blow, his disappointment and anger palpable. Then, almost as if speaking to himself, Merlin muttered, "Power is a curse when wielded without wisdom. Perhaps you've proven that better than anyone."

Nimueh flinched at his words, her crimson eyes flickering with a mixture of fury and shame. "You think I wanted this?" she hissed, her voice trembling. "You think I chose to become this... monster? You weren't there, Merlin. You didn't see what I saw. The endless bloodshed, the senseless loss, the way the strong devoured the weak without mercy. I did what I had to, to survive. To fight back!"

Merlin shook his head slowly, his expression softening but still tinged with sorrow. "Survival at the cost of your soul is no survival at all, Nimueh. You allowed the darkness to consume you, and in doing so, you became what you once despised."

Nimueh's fists clenched, her pale knuckles stark against her skin. "Spare me your sanctimony, Merlin. You've stood by and watched this world tear itself apart for centuries. You had the power to stop it, to make things right, but you did nothing. So don't lecture me about choices."

Merlin's eyes narrowed, the flames of his Avatar intensifying for a moment before settling. "I didn't act because I knew the cost. The price of wielding power recklessly is always paid in more lives, Nimueh. You've seen it yourself, haven't you? How many have suffered because of the path you chose?"

Her lips parted, but no words came. For the first time, Nimueh seemed to falter, her defiance crumbling under the weight of his words.

Merlin stepped closer, his voice gentler now but no less firm. "It's not too late, Nimueh. You've strayed far, but even now, there's a chance for redemption. Help me protect the next generation—the children who still have a chance to grow up in a world not ruled by fear and hatred."

For a fleeting moment, something akin to hope flickered in her eyes, but it was quickly snuffed out, replaced by a cold, resolute glare. "Redemption? Don't insult me, Merlin. I am far beyond that." She stepped back, her crimson eyes glowing with renewed determination. "I didn't come here to debate morality with you. I came here for the life weapon, and I will have it."

Merlin sighed, disappointment etched across his face. "Then you leave me no choice, Nimueh. I wanted to spare you because of what we once shared, because I believed that even you could be redeemed, but if you threaten Camelot, if you threaten the family I swore to serve...." His aura surged again, his rejuvenated form radiating immense power. "I will stop you. Permanently."

Nimueh's lips curled into a sharp smile, despite her fear and though her confidence was visibly shaken. "Then let's see if the power of a King can match that of a Saint."