"So, "Antoinette", right? I'm sure you heard already, but I'm Merlin, at your service!"
"...Cease your lies! I won't be taken for a fool!"
"Eh?"
Merlin looked at her with a hint of confusion in his celestial irises, tilting his head as he folded his arms across his bare chest.
"It's not possible! Merlin was proclaimed dead by the hands of the Founders!...Even he wouldn't be able to survive being hunted by them!"
"Ah, I guess that makes sense--I should be dead, shouldn't I? But here I am, in the flesh, in front of you. Tell me, just who do you think I am then?"
Challenging her suspicions, the half-nude, mysterious mage exuded a powerful, pressuring wind just by squinting his inhuman eyes as he stared at the girl, causing her to be pushed backward as she planted her shoes against the metallic floor in an effort to halt herself as if being dragged by the abrasive hands of a storm.
As the mana-guided winds ceased abruptly, Antoinette stumbled before gritting her teeth, tightening her hold on her blades as she pointed one at the long-haired man.
"Parlor tricks...won't convince me of anything!"
"You're a stubborn one, aren't you? What happened to that sharp tongue of yours you had against Bea, huh? I happen to enjoy girls who can breathe a bit of fire, you know."
His comments dug right beneath his skin; whether it was the way his words came out in such a sly, silver manner or the taunting, amused smile he held--the Argonaut didn't seem inclined to be on the receiving end of her very own manner.
"...I'm going to cut that tongue of yours."
"Now that's more like it!"
With Merlin's last taunt, it pulled the Argonaut into battle once more as she dashed directly for the man who hovered in the magical attic, wielding both of her kasha blades with a sharp, beast-like resolve to kill in her eyes.
Just as she came within reach of the man with her blades, he remained perfectly still as if he was unable to react to her swiftness, but that wasn't quite right; his eyes traced her perfectly. Being watched by those inhuman eyes of his caused her to hesitate for a moment--that hesitation leading to her instincts screaming at her of something coming.
Opting not to attack, Antoinette leaped back in a defensive position with her blades acting as guards, now covered in sweat.
"Oh? Your reaction is quite commendable; you truly have embodied a feline completely. If you opted to actually strike...well, you can see what would've happened."
As he explained this, he had yet to move a single inch from his starting position, but Antoinette brought her eyes to what the man was alluding to. Just in front of Merlin's position, where the curly-haired murderer was preparing her strike, the floor had been charred completely, a fresh steam rising from the blackened spot.
What…? Did he cast a spell? I didn't hear anything--let alone sense anything, she thought.
"My mistake; that was too fast for you, wasn't it? I'm a bit out of practice, so you'll have to forgive me."
"Don't mock me…!"
Screaming out with a sharpness that took the playful mage by surprise, Antoinette this time opted for a more deceptive tactic, using one of the walls as footing before jumping from that platform to the next wall, gathering speed and momentum that set her as nothing more than a blur to even the eyes of a seasoned warrior.
Still, Merlin sat still with his arms folded, holding his pleased, carefree smile despite her growing efforts.
"Fall."
It wasn't an incantation, just a simple word that left the man's glossy lips, the only difference being it parted as more of a command rather than a playful taunt. What was truly perplexing is that the curly-haired woman now found herself pressed against the floor despite having just been leaping frantically across the room--despite no casted magic being heard. It was just an instantaneous shift that it took a moment for her brain to process the change.
Why am I on the floor…? Why can't I move…? She thought.
There was an overwhelming pressure being applied to every square inch of her body, locking her against the ground as if the weight of a mountain pressed itself against her form.
"What...is this?"
Even speaking was a feat in and of itself as she felt her chest tightening and her lungs struggling to take in any new oxygen.
"Spatial magic--ah, she is really nagging at me to hurry up...sheesh, having a voice in your head is vexing. She does have a point; we can't hold this for very long. I guess I should hurry."
Hearing the very inclination that the mage before her might become serious sent a cold sweat through Antoinette's pores as she desperately tried to move herself, to no avail, until--a simple snap of Merlin's fingers did away with the ungodly pressure holding her down.
The exact moment she was freed from the hold of gravity, she vanished from that very spot, jumping up as her feet unnaturally held onto the ceiling by some mystic art.
"Come; let us finish this charade, girl."
At last, Merlin seemed to actually indulge in the concept of a fight; holding a stance of his own without his feet touching the ground as of yet.
Launching herself like a spring with her feline eyes set on the jugular of the mage, Antoinette's ferocious kick-off of the ceiling caved in the steel, traveling forth as the sound barrier cracked as if a whip was thrown.
Once more, she found herself puzzled by the man she faced off against; though she moved at a speed that she had never been caught with--there she was; the arm which she used to strike had been caught in the grasp of Merlin.
Veins protruded from his fist as he squeezed her arm, the crunching of bones being compromised sounding out within the room.
"Oh? Not even a peep from you. I guess it's wrong to call you a simple girl; you truly are a specimen in your own right, Severer. However--"
As he spoke, the Argonaut held no weight to the conversation as she twisted her body around, allowing her arm to snap and twist in order to gain leverage in the dire situation. Using the man's arm like a pole, she swung her body around as she went in for a strike with her good arm.
"Twist."
It was that simple word once more, coated with an unavoidable command from Merlin. The moment the utterance met her ears, the hand which she attempted to strike the mage with did just that as her blade fell from her hold; it twisted. First, her fingers gyrated from each joint, then her wrist spun like a drill against her will as a harrowing, continuous array of cracks and pops resounded as the squelching and tearing of flesh accompanied it.
The effect reached up the length of her arm, twisting it unnaturally as her skin tore like parchment, her ivory skeleton piercing through her compromised limb before the twisting halted at her elbow.
"This is the true form of magecraft; the complete mastery of magic itself--a simple word evokes what is needed, the simple inclination of what I said had a desired effect behind it. Do you understand, Antoinette?"
Like a banshee, she cried out her anguished screams in response to Merlin as her limb was left mangled beyond recognition; fragments of bone protruding like the hairs of a porcupine, her crimson essence covering whatever was left in place of her pale skin.
"It seems we've discovered the limits of your tolerance for pain, at least."
Releasing his hold of her relatively intact arm, the woman dropped down to the ground as she writhed on the floor, screaming out and flailing as she flung her blood across the previously pristine flooring. It was then that the mage of a frivolous, daunting nature solidified a place in the killer's mind as she gasped out in pain on the ground like an injured animal.
"The Scariest."
It was a simple title in her mind, but most fitting for the inhuman mage. He simply watched with a curious, speculative gaze as if learning something from watching the Argonaut convulse in agony on the floor, watching with absent empathy in his celestial irises.
"Silence."
His next command quenched the ear-ringing howls of the woman. Still, her mouth moved as if trying to scream but only releasing weak, miniscule fits of air from her maw. She wanted nothing more in that moment to vent her unmatched pain out through her yells, but nothing could come out. It wasn't a hesitance or fear to do so, but she simply couldn't.
"Now, how should I take care of this…? I can't disturb the spell Beatrice is weaving. Hmm…"
While Antoinette held her shattered and mangled arm while writhing in pain, Merlin placed his hand on his chin as he scoured his mind for a solution.
With a snap of his fingers, Merlin's expression lit up as his eyes sparkled, "I've got it!"
Waving his hand, he lifted the compromised, silently grimacing Argonaut with an unseen force before bringing her close, holding her by her collar as he smiled subtly with an inhuman victory perched across his lips.
"Open: Endless Castle!"
With his boisterous, commanding call, both Merlin and the woman he held without care now existed in a completely different scenery; one of flowing, vibrant matter as a violent hum filled the space around them, carrying with it that which felt like a wind belonging to the most ferocious of storms, but such winds couldn't exist in a space such as this.
Stars sat at their sides, a sea of endless, far-stretching darkness matched only by the abyss itself surrounding them--it was a place beyond human comprehension.
"Be honored, Severer. Many scholars, mages, and adventurers worth their name spend their life in search of this place--I can count on one hand how many have actually found it, though."
With the tremendous, flowing forces of contant, raging energy, Antoinette struggled to so much as move her own two eyeballs to inspect the enigmatic domain she was held inside. It was as if doing so resulted in countless, impeccably small cuts on the white of her eyes.
"Perhaps you've heard of it?"
Of course, Antoinette was unable to respond to the man that held her with one arm. Realizing this as his opalescent, white hair flowed in the otherworldly forces within the celestial domain, Merlin let out a sigh.
"...That's right, I forgot you can't answer. The Endless Castle is something not formed by magecraft; in fact, not even the Founders themselves truly know its origins. It acts as a corridor, boundless in length, limitless in possibility--here, you can find passageways to any number of worlds, differing realities...it is a concept that quite honestly frightens me a bit."
This knowledge superseded the absolute anguish the woman found herself in, as if existing in such a grandiose territory made her mind realize just how miniscule she was before the scale of the Endless Castle.
"It is found only by reaching the pinnacle of many fields, but most importantly--it is the perfection of spatial magic. What do you think would happen if I released my hold of your collar?...An amusing question, no?"
Fear struck itself into Antoinette's heart at this pose, but most of all, anxiety caused that very muscle to thump wildly as she flailed.
"Oh? Are you that anxious to be flung into the holds of the castle? If you were to fall, you would find yourself dragged into a completely random, foreign world. Who knows what you might find? Beasts as large as kingdoms, flesh-eating men as plentiful as grains of sand, or perhaps simply a world ravaged by nothing but flames? Curious."
He looked into her eyes as if spectating every shift in emotion, studying the spectrum of the feelings that sprout in the face of such overwhelming power--it was with those eyes that resembled the very stars they neighbored that true monstrosity was found.
The intense stare he burned into her irises broke as he let out a sigh of his own.
"...Unfortunately for you, my time in this form is running out. Let's hope you find yourself in a world most kind, Severer."
Releasing his hold on the woman's collar, she reached out frantically to grab onto him, to no avail as the pull of the Endless Castle latched onto her with the strength of a million hands, pulling her away into the depths of the boundless torrent.
With the next breath he exhaled, Merlin was returned to the relative quietness of Beatrice's attic. Allowing his soles to meet the surface of the ground, he let out a confused, "Mm?", before looking down, realizing he was stepping in the puddle of blood left from the Argonaut's arm.
"Agh! Disgusting!"
He raised his foot, stepping back as he let out a disgruntled breath, closing his eyes briefly before they shot back open.
"Crap, I forgot to release my silencing command on her. Oh, well. I'm done here, Beatrice."
Scratching his head as he finished his duties, he folded his arms across his chest as once more a blinding light filled the attic, the departure of two, forcibly conjoined mana signatures releasing a splendid array of magic into the room.
The orb left from Beatrice's bosom as the radiance faded, leaving the primordial sage back in her body as she gave a small, grateful kiss to the orb, "Thank you, Merlin."
"Ah, don't mention it!"
With its job done, the orb returned itself into a non-material, spiritual form as Beatrice made her way back to the center of the room as if nothing had transpired, returning her attention to the meticulous spell demanding her attention.
Even I find the personality of this man troublesome, yet that is what draws me to him. There are not many born like him, and even fewer who retain such a fondness for the history, virtues, and mysteries of this world.
Despite possessing the blood of a true demon, flowing through his veins; the very race that finds themselves the antithesis of mankind, lacking their same morals or empathy--he tries his best to embrace his human side, the one in which he inherited from his mother's side.
Still...this troublesome man has quite some ways to go before he can call himself a human. He doesn't understand their fragility, pain, love, hate--for now, he simply sees them as subjects, a vessel of research in which to grow from.
Though I consider him my one and only companion in this world, I don't believe the choice the Founders made to execute him was wrong. With the talent he was born with, as a Herrscher, and the detachment he holds, it is simply the most reasonable decision.
Any inclination of emotion is simply his way of mimicking what he has seen. As he is right now, he is a true monster, through and through.
But...I've decided to take him under my wing so that one day, Merlin can be an asset to mankind rather than its enemy.
These were the thoughts of Beatrice, one who seeks only the best for mankind.
Standing in the gentle illumination of the gathering, intricate mysticism of her own actively crafting spell, the sage stood in full nude, feeling no warmth or chill brush against her pale, smooth skin as she continued on with her role without a single care.
Continue fighting hard, my children. This assault is a trial to test the mettle of our ambitions; show the Argonauts that the Outlanders are a force to be reckoned with.
Fai, Donatien, even you, Charlotte—it is do-or-die, failure is not an option. The same goes for me.
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