Preparation (1)
Who are you? The words rose to the tip of Najin's tongue for a moment, but he barely managed to hold them back. His mind understood that the woman before him was Merlin, yet accepting it was another matter entirely.
Who was Merlin, after all?
A girl who looked about sixteen or seventeen, with a mischievous smile that was half impish and half ridiculous—that was the Merlin Najin knew. Of course, even in that state she possessed a beauty that could slap the cheeks of the continent's most celebrated beauties, but…
Najin never paid much attention to other people's looks, and the average attractiveness of everyone around him—himself included—was so high that Merlin had never particularly stood out.
But the Merlin standing here now?
A woman who looked to be in her early to mid-twenties. Fully grown, every trace of youthfulness shed. Not a speck of playfulness or ridiculousness remained; instead there was a woman who somehow seemed fragile, almost precarious.
Even Najin, for a brief instant, found his gaze stolen. She wore a strange atmosphere, like a snow crystal, like a snowflake that would melt and vanish the moment a fingertip touched it.
Hair spilled down over Najin's face. Through the curtain of her hair, only Merlin's eyes were visible—bluish, as if they might pull him in.
"……"
A brief silence. The moment Najin tried to swallow a breath, the corner of Merlin's mouth twitched.
"Puh—puhahahahat!"
Merlin burst out laughing.
"What, is it weird? Hmm? Feeling all new and strange?"
She grinned and flicked his forehead with a finger. At the sight of Merlin's smile, now overflowing with the ridiculousness that had been completely absent a moment before, Najin's tension melted away.
Yep. That's Merlin all right.
In the unfamiliar woman he could still see the familiar ridiculousness of Merlin. Najin let out a long breath and pushed himself up. His body was in no state to stand and walk yet, so he only raised his upper body and leaned back against the pillow.
"So? What's with that look?"
"This?"
Merlin ran her fingers through her lengthened hair. Waves of it slid over her fingers like water.
"You remember the magic I used back then?"
"Narak, was it? The one that makes a sea?"
"Yeah, that. Like Silence, it's one of my unique magics. A spell I created myself."
First-rate mages often created magics of their own. Merlin was no exception, and Narak was a spell she had developed a thousand years ago.
"Unique magic draws on your mindscape when you cast it, right? So it ends up projecting the emotions and mental image you had when you first developed it…"
Merlin smiled bitterly as she looked down at her own body. It was her body from the past—specifically, from right around the end of the journey.
"My mental state when I created Narak was… not great. If other magics are white or sky-blue—bright colors—then Narak is black. Pitch-black."
A black so dense that a single drop would turn an entire pool of water jet-black. It was a magic fueled by hatred, resentment, the fierce desire for the other party to suffer, and the effects lingered for quite a long time, Merlin explained.
"So I've temporarily gone back to that form, I guess? If this were my true body it would be different, but what's in front of you right now is a spiritual body. It's just the way I perceive myself."
"I see."
Najin listened quietly, then simply stared at Merlin. Her appearance certainly recalled the fairy Merlin he had seen in the Black Spire. Even the atmosphere surrounding her was similar.
She must have developed the magics around the same time.
The gaze seemed to make her uncomfortable; she muttered, "What, is it weird? Ugh, getting back to normal will take a bit…," and twisted a lock of hair around her finger. From her, Najin could sense emotions he never usually felt.
Anxiety. Restlessness. Sorrow. Hatred.
The emotions she must have felt when she developed Narak. And the emotions that had muddied her mindscape in the days when she was scattering that magic across the land.
Seeing Merlin try so hard to hide those feelings, Najin exhaled and finally spoke.
"Merlin."
He looked at her and asked simply:
"Are you all right?"
"Huh? About what?"
"Just… everything."
"…Does it show that much?"
"A little."
I really can't hide anything from you, can I, she muttered, and sighed. Merlin lowered her head slightly and chewed her lip.
"Hey, um."
"I'm listening."
"Can I hold your hand?"
"Why are you suddenly asking? Since when do you ask before grabbing it?"
Najin held out his hand. When Merlin still hesitated and fidgeted, he simply took her hand firmly. Startled, she flinched and lifted her head a little.
She was being unusually careful—almost as if she were reluctant to touch him. Najin could guess why.
Because our emotions are linked right now.
And contact would only strengthen the connection. She was worried her sticky, unpleasant feelings would affect him badly. Seeing right through her, Najin snorted a quiet laugh.
"It's not like you've only ever shown me the good parts."
"What?"
"You're worrying about the strangest things."
At Najin's offhand attitude, Merlin chewed her lip a moment longer, then let out a long sigh.
"Then what was all my fretting for?"
"What for? You're just Merlin. Ridiculous Merlin."
"What? Ridiculous? Hey, you finished talking?"
Even as she grumbled, she looked happy. Merlin, who had been sitting at a distance, scooted right up against him. Resting her head on Najin's shoulder, she murmured in a voice that nearly disappeared:
"…Thanks."
Najin said nothing. He only smiled as Merlin fidgeted with her fingers, trying to push them between his and lace them together.
The next morning.
"Forget it."
"Forget what?"
"Forget. Everything I did yesterday."
"Forget what, exactly?"
Unable to meet his eyes, Merlin's ears were bright red. Najin tilted his head.
"Asking if you could hold my hand? Or desperately trying to lace our fingers together? Or sniffling and saying you wouldn't leave me—"
"Aaaaaaaaaah!"
Merlin screamed and clamped both hands over Najin's mouth. Of course it was a useless resistance.
"How are you feeling?"
"…Better. Thanks to you."
Still unable to look at him, Merlin kept her head down as she spoke. Remembering how she had clung to him and whined all day yesterday, she covered her face with both hands.
"Anyway, yesterday was special. I'm not normally like that. You know that, right? I'm a lofty, flawless, thorough, and cold-blooded mage. I'm not usually that emotional—yesterday was just an unusual case."
A lofty, flawless, thorough, and cold-blooded mage? Who are we talking about again? Najin barely managed to swallow the words. If he said them out loud, Merlin would definitely sulk for real.
"If you say so, Merlin, then it must be true."
Najin changed the subject.
"About Siegfried—what happened after that?"
"It's all cleaned up. Because you held out, the boundary of Kamran barely shifted, and the Outer Land border barely moved either. Bedivere was pleased."
For things to end this cleanly even after Siegfried went on a rampage was truly remarkable, Merlin added.
"So, how did it feel fighting Siegfried?"
"Don't even start. It was awful."
Najin made a thoroughly fed-up face.
"Insanely fast, ridiculously tough, and his technique goes without saying… and then he was holding Gram, that thing that just hacks everything to pieces. I started wondering if he was designed so no one could ever beat him."
"We said pretty much the same thing back in our day. Siegfried was a human who just didn't fit any standard, in every way."
Still, Merlin continued.
"You landed a hit at the end, didn't you? For that final instant you moved exactly the same as Siegfried."
"That's the problem."
"The problem?"
"I managed to do it then, but I don't know exactly how I did it. Everything just flashed white for a second, and…"
Unconsciously he had set foot into a certain realm, but an unconscious realization evaporated in an instant. Accumulated injuries and the heat of battle had left him far from clear-headed, so he barely remembered it either.
"Still, you did it once, so next time should be a little easier, right? The important thing is that you managed it even once."
"Well… I suppose."
Walking with Merlin, Najin reviewed the fight against Siegfried. The man had been a terrifyingly powerful opponent—one who gave him a clear sense of the level of enemies he would have to face going forward.
Najin glanced beside him.
There was Merlin, a little taller than usual, looking just like the fairy Merlin. He asked her:
"Could you beat Siegfried, Merlin?"
"Not alone."
Merlin answered flatly.
"Pure weight class, we'd be about even, but Siegfried is a mage's natural predator. Most magic he can just tank with his body, and anything actually dangerous he just cuts with Gram. Absolute worst matchup for a mage."
Merlin—whose pride and confidence in her own skill scraped the heavens—stated it without hesitation. She couldn't win alone. That single sentence said everything about Siegfried.
"A mage's natural predator, huh."
Najin chewed on the words, then asked:
"Wasn't the Witch of Camlann a mage too?"
"She is a mage. For now, anyway."
"……"
Najin fell silent for a moment. Siegfried possessed that much strength and was also excellent against mages. Yet even that Siegfried had been unable to endure the Abyss and had become a monster.
Najin tried to picture the situation a thousand years ago in his mind.
Arthur and Siegfried at the head, the Knights of the Round Table gathered in one place, Merlin supporting them, all facing a single enemy. He could not easily imagine what could possibly stop them. He could not picture them losing, either.
And yet…
They had been crushed. Arthur had only managed to seal the Witch of Camlann into the Abyss by trading her own life. The Witch of the Abyss had forced every one of them to their knees.
How, exactly?
"We thought the same thing."
Having read Najin's thoughts, Merlin smiled bitterly as she answered.
"We never for a second believed we would lose. Everything had gone well. We were certain we would reach utopia just like that."
"……"
"Until we ran into the Witch of the Abyss once. Then every plan was smashed to pieces."
"What kind of being is the Witch of Camlann, exactly?"
What kind of being could have defeated all those shining heroes? At the question Merlin murmured, "What kind of being, huh."
"The Witch of Camlann is a star that has lived for tens of thousands of years—and a star that erased every last scrap of the history humanity had built over those tens of thousands of years."
Human history could not possibly be only a thousand years old. Humanity had existed long before that, built nations, and accumulated history.
But all of that history was gone.
Because of a single witch.
"All that's known is the name."
Merlin said.
"Morgan le Fay."
The being who corrupted the oldest dragon, who infected the race of witches with hatred, and who burned every fairy in existence and eradicated Mystery from the world.
And—
"The being who holds the Mystery of Termination."
The first witch, and at the same time the witch of the end who heralds the close of all things.
That was the final enemy Najin would have to face.
"……"
After a moment of silence, Najin nodded.
The Witch of the Abyss, the Dragon of the Abyss, Mordred, Siegfried, Lancelot and Guinevere—he ran through the faces of the enemies still waiting for him, then looked not at the distant future but at the present.
Right now, what did he need to do?
The answer was simple.
After the battle with Siegfried, Najin had realized a great deal. He was feeling the same emotions he had felt the first time he set foot in Cambria, and the first time he set foot in the Outer Land.
From the underground city to Cambria.
From Cambria to the Outer Land.
And now, from the Outer Land back to Kamran.
Before advancing to the next stage he still had to resolve the matter entangled with Lancelot, but in Najin's eyes that too was closer to Kamran's side of things. Lancelot would be a powerhouse on a level not far from Siegfried's, even if not quite equal.
"So."
Najin said.
"I realized I can't keep going like this."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. I think I need to prepare properly before I go. I've had some realizations, and there are things that feel like they're almost coming into focus… I need to check those as well."
Loosening up, Najin looked ahead.
"So I'd like to ask this of you."
"Of course."
Thud—the man standing before Najin lightly struck the ground with the butt of his spear. A dull resonance rolled through the sanctuary.
The Hundred-Man Spear. Bedivere.
With the fight against Lancelot approaching, Najin had requested a spar with Bedivere. No one else knew the Round Table as thoroughly as he did—and no one else could demonstrate that knowledge through movement.
Facing a Knight of the Round Table, Najin began the spar.
And a month passed.