"WHAT!?" Noah screamed inwardly, feeling his heart leap into his throat. He looked at the gods. Each one regarded him with a mixture of serenity and complicity. Morrigan, of course, smiled with malice.
"Explain yourself," he managed to say, though his breathing had already become erratic. He understood nothing. Instinctively, his hand slid toward his side, searching for his sword—but it wasn't there.
Dagda lowered his gaze.
"I'm afraid… the time of humans has ended," his voice was soft, almost paternal. "You have squandered your place on Earth, destroying nature and all its creatures."
Bullshit! Noah thought. There it was again: that sweet, grandiose tone that masked condemnation and elevated the executioner. He knew there was more behind those words. There always was.
"We… we weren't entirely in agreement. There should have been another way…" Dagda tried to justify.
"I was in agreement," Lugh interrupted, without remorse.
"But!" Dagda quickly corrected himself, "we cannot allow those other savages to descend and do as they please here."
He was trying to convince him. A human, trembling on his knees… but not from fear. Not that.
"Rejoice!" Dagda continued. "You will guide the new humanity. A purer one. Made in the image of the gods. A good plan, don't you think, Merlin?"
Noah turned to the wizard. The old man said nothing, but his steel-like gaze met the king's. Both nodded ever so slightly, and the wizard closed his eyes calmly, leaving Noah to do what he deemed optimal.
The decision was in his hands. One man alone would decide the fate of the world. And Noah could not have found it more absurd.
Calm down, this is politics, right? I need information… he began to analyze carefully.
"How much time do I have?" he asked, rising with difficulty.
"Until the thirty-first of January. That's the agreed day."
"Although…" interrupted Artio, the bear goddess. "The effects will begin almost immediately."
"Ancient monsters will awaken," added Cernunnos, bluntly.
"Heroes and immortals will walk among men again," Lugh said.
Noah clenched his fists. Then he lifted his gaze to Dagda, expression hardened. The entire clearing fell silent. They waited for him to speak.
"Very well. I have only two questions."
"Alright," Dagda nodded.
"Why now? And don't give me any nonsense about the environment," his voice crackled with restrained rage. "What do you mean by 'there should have been another way'? What are you hiding?"
"I'm afraid," Lugh said, stepping forward, his eyes blazing into Noah's, "that it is not the concern of a mortal."
Noah frowned. He had had enough. Enough of being treated like an idiot. Enough of them proclaiming themselves humanity's saviors with absurd arrogance. He felt a tingling in his fingers—the invisible outline of a familiar hilt.
"And the second question…" he drew a deep, firm breath. "Why should I help you orchestrate a genocide?"
Silence.
None of the gods answered immediately. To them, serving was obvious. Natural. How dare he question it?
Then, from behind, a sly smile cut through the stillness.
"You could break the curse that lies in the blood of the Pendragon," Morrigan whispered, her voice soft and venomous.
Noah spun around instantly, frozen. Those words… he hadn't expected them. Never.
"You could undo the spell that woman cast fifteen hundred years ago," the goddess continued, stepping closer. "You could save your daughter… and perhaps even recover your sister."
Noah felt his legs give out. A moment. Just a blink of weakness. His sister—the only person who had ever understood the weight Noah carried—recovering her…
"Nonsense," he said, voice trembling. "Not even Merlin could do it."
Merlin glared at Morrigan but said nothing.
It can't be… even if I could, there's no way to save my sister… but my daughter could…?
"Do not compare a goddess to a cherished elder," she replied, drawing even closer. "After all… Morgana's witchcraft is my craft."
Noah looked at the old man. Merlin nodded silently.
Is it possible to save her? Then if I agree, I could recover my only family and see my daughter grow into a woman? Noah frowned, feeling his eyes well with tears.
"Then…" Dagda interrupted, wearing a smile far too confident. "What do you say? Will you join us and bring honor to your family?"
The price is absurdly high… but who am I to judge the will of the gods?
Noah stepped toward the god, his steps firm.
Noah stepped toward the god, his steps firm.
"It has always been a pleasure to serve the gods," he said, forcing a compliant smile.
Yes, this is the right thing… he told himself, just before recalling what his father had said when he was a child. But the duty of a Pendragon…
Dagda extended his massive hand. It was as large as Noah's entire torso. But then—
"And it still will be," Noah added. Dagda froze mid-motion, but Noah held his gaze calmly.
The duty of the wielder of Excalibur overrides any personal interest. Noah remembered those words clearly. And that duty is to be king!
"You really think it's that easy to hide your intentions from a god like me?" Dagda said, his voice severe, striking Noah like a shockwave. His hand still hovered at his side.
Everything seemed to freeze.
Time stopped. Only Noah and Dagda remained, face to face, both unflinching.
Noah exhaled sharply, and a laugh escaped his lips.
"I forgot how perceptive you are, my lord. I admit it would have been easier to kill you if you had fallen into your own arrogance. What a nuisance."
"Mortal—" Artio began, "—be very careful with what you say and do."
Noah turned briefly to the goddess, abandoning any pretense of concern. His gaze was arrogant, dismissive. The gods noticed immediately, and Noah returned his smile to Dagda, self-assured.
"Why the hell would I help you, bastard?" Noah spat, slamming Dagda's hand aside and rejecting the pact. "Did you really think I'd accept such a stupid deal? Pretend to be a messiah while millions die?"
He glanced at Morrigan; she smiled, expectant and unsettling.
He took another step forward. His hand moved to his side, and in a flash of contained magic, a hilt materialized. The blade grew, elongating into a golden two-handed sword, finely detailed, with a green gem set in the center of the guard.
"Did you really think I would kneel? Me? The King of Camelot, ruler of men—" Noah lifted the sword with both hands. "The gods are immortal, aren't they? …"
He pointed it directly at Dagda's heart.
"…so tell me, would you survive if Excalibur pierced your chest?"
Dagda's eyes widened—not just in anger or offense, but with a real flash of fear.
Noah bared his teeth. And he attacked.
But Dagda was faster. He snapped his fingers. The world distorted, illusions shattered, and space itself splintered like broken glass. Noah felt everything around him collapse and reconstruct in a heartbeat.
Suddenly, he pierced something solid.
A dry crack brought him back to reality—the sword had pierced Merlin's tree trunk.
The sacred oak withered in seconds. Bark cracked, and with a final breath, it collapsed under its own weight. The impact shook the lab. Bottles clinked. Creatures stirred. Chaos erupted.
You've made a mistake, mortal.
Lugh's voice echoed in his head like a sentence.
Your betrayal will have consequences.
"Damn it!" Merlin shouted, furious. "Do you have any idea how many centuries it took me to grow that tree?"
Noah glared at him, frustrated, but there was no time for debate.
The sky darkened. Uneasy presences swirled around the room.
"How long will it take to get Camelot out of god territory?" Noah asked, eyes fixed on the sky.
"With luck… five minutes," Merlin replied, hastily arranging a few vials. "Why?"
"Get us out of here," Noah ordered, still staring upward.
"The gods can't enter the mortal world, at least not yet," Merlin argued.
"The gods can't," Noah said, "but I doubt their beasts follow the same rules."
Merlin looked up. Through the crystal dome, roots sprouted from nothing, descending like fingers from the abyss. They tangled as they fell, forming humanoid figures of mud, branches, and black sap.
"Damn loopholes…" Merlin muttered, not surprised but clearly irritated. "This is cheating!"
"Yeah, tell that to these bastards," Noah said, drawing his sword. Wish I weren't just in a shirt for this.
With a snap, Merlin vanished.
"Five minutes, huh…?" Noah murmured, just as one of the root-figures fell in front of him. It had no face, but Noah could feel Dagda's eyes behind that tangle of roots, a harvest spirit. A confident smile curved his lips.
Of course… this is going to be easy.
The creature shrieked, sharp and piercing. Its arm transformed into a dagger of thorns. Noah barely dodged the thrust and swung Excalibur in a clean arc. The spirit split in two with a golden flash, evaporating instantly. Excalibur absorbed their life force with just a touch. Especially effective against spirits.
He was about to deliver a witty remark… when another spirit dropped beside him. This one struck him full force with a whip-like arm. The impact sent him flying several meters. It hurt, but his body held. When the spirit lunged to finish him, Noah raised his hand. The ring glowed, freezing the creature mid-motion.
Clenching his fist, he spun and, in that same motion, sent the spirit hurtling through the air, smashing into another just forming. Both crashed through a wall, which collapsed under the blow, revealing an upper-floor hallway.
A couple of maids screamed on the other side of the debris. Noah spun toward them.
"Run!" he shouted, just as a flame erupted behind him.
From the ground, warriors emerged, wreathed in fire: charred armor, swords glowing like molten coal—Forgers.
"They're probably appearing all over the city!" he shouted to the maids. "Find Elías! Tell him they're spirits!"
Noah pivoted just in time to block a blazing sword strike from one of the fiery Forgers. He deflected the blade and, with a swift turn, drove his own sword between the plates.
The creature shrieked; the heat it radiated was unbearable. Sweat ran down his back.
The maids ran. Noah muttered a prayer for their survival… though, given that the gods now wanted him dead, it probably wasn't the safest bet.
He withdrew his sword. The spirit collapsed, disintegrating. But the harvest spirits rose among the rubble. They landed and began intertwining—roots, mud, branches—merging into a taller, more robust entity.
Noah turned to face the new "greater" harvest spirit. He used the ring again, but barely slowed it. He had just enough time to block a brutal hook with his sword. He hit the ground, his stomach churning from the heat, the effort, everything. He rolled, dodging another Forger's strike purely by instinct. He sprang up, spun, and with a clean overhead strike, severed the spirit's head. It exploded in golden light, blinding the larger creature.
He seized the moment. Grabbing a green vial from the floor, he hurled it at the being. The glass shattered on its chest, and the roots began melting like butter on fire.
He remembered well the effects of most of Merlin's concoctions. Being in the lab gave him the advantage. He grabbed another vial, this one red, and poured it over the blade. The sword burst into living flames.
He charged the spirit. It instinctively swung at him, but Noah dove under it, slicing both legs with a perfect cut. The creature collapsed, engulfed in flames.
He stood, panting slightly from exertion. Five minutes should have passed by now, right?
Noah took a deep breath. There didn't seem to be any more. He pulled out his phone, still gasping. A new notification from Merlin appeared:
"The engine room was infested with critters. In two minutes we'll be out of danger."
Accompanied by a giant thumbs-up emoji. Noah still wondered how the hell Merlin sent messages without a phone.
The king leaned on his sword. The blow from the plant spirit had injured his organs, even though he'd blocked it in time. He scanned the ground for any of Merlin's healing mixtures.
He'd eliminated several enemies using only his sword and ring, thinking how much easier it would have been with his royal clothes—or crown.
Then a hiss behind him froze his blood. He turned, and his blood ran cold.
A snake the size of a bullet train coiled along the lab walls. Its scales glowed from within, as if burning with excitement. Its glittering eyes locked onto Noah with bone-chilling hunger.
"Nathair Nua, the Eternal Serpent," Noah murmured, clutching his side.
He tried to lift his sword for a ranged strike, but a whip of the serpent struck his back. He was thrown. His sword fell meters away.
He tried to get up, but his ribs cracked, and he coughed blood.
The serpent descended slowly along the walls. It grinned.
"A pleasure to see you again, King of Camelot," it said, voice mocking and deliberate.
"Likewise. Last time I saw you, I cut off your head," Noah gasped, keeping his composure while searching for an escape. "How are you still alive?"
The creature hissed, amused. It coiled its tail around Noah's torso, lifting him until they were face to face.
"Eternal Serpent," mortal. Not just a nickname, it tilted its head, sadistic gleam in its eyes. Though I still remember the dreadful pain… perhaps I should return the favor.
The tail began to squeeze. Noah screamed in pure agony. His internal organs groaned.
The serpent opened its jaws. Noah struggled, failing. One more second, and his spine would snap. Not even Merlin could save him if he ended up in a vegetative state.
In a final desperate attempt, Noah pressed his fist against the serpent's tail.
"Come on, come on…"
Excalibur materialized instantly, slicing through the scaly flesh—and accidentally cutting his own side in the process.
The serpent shrieked. It released Noah, who crashed to the ground. The sword fell beside him, its glow fading. But the cut wasn't enough. Nathair wasn't ordinary. It couldn't be killed by merely absorbing a bit of its energy with Excalibur.
Noah tried to move, but even adrenaline couldn't force his body to respond. His muscles disobeyed. If this continued, he would die.
The serpent roared, furious. Its head shot forward. Its fangs extended fully, aiming at the wounded king.
Noah could even smell the venom as the creature approached. Then—a barely perceptible tremor. And the serpent vanished.
Noah blinked, confused. He collapsed onto his back. Looking at the sky, he noticed it was completely overcast, unlike before. All signs of the creatures had disappeared.
Merlin had done it. They'd teleported the city out of godly territory. And luckily, it seemed the creatures had been left behind. He imagined the serpent crashing to the ground, disoriented. A faint smile crossed his lips. Then his senses gave out.
End of Chapter.