CHAPTER 300: FINALE (2)

"Oh, I have plenty to say," Kael said with that maddening calm. "You see, I once believed power was something you built, factories, money, soldiers. But then I realized power is something you create. It’s about invention. About breaking the limits of what the world says is possible."

He gestured toward the constructs. "You call these weapons? No. These are the first step toward freedom, freedom from reliance on affinity, from the tyranny of natural talent."

Elara slammed her spear through another drone’s head. "You mean freedom for people like you, the ones already at the top."

Kael smiled faintly. "You sound idealistic. It’s charming. Naïve, but charming."

Merlin’s lightning flared again, cutting through three drones at once. "Funny," he said, voice flat. "That’s what the villains in your speeches usually say before they lose."

Kael’s grin widened. "Oh, you still think this is a story with heroes and villains? You poor, delusional child."

Merlin’s breath hitched.

For a moment, the world seemed to slow, Kael’s words striking a nerve far deeper than the man could’ve known.

He stepped forward. "What did you just call me?"

Kael tilted his head, studying him. "You’re interesting, Everhart. You don’t react like the others. You don’t fit the mold. I’ve read your records, no important family line, no known background before your enrollment. It’s as if you appeared out of nowhere. Tell me—"

He smiled, thin and knowing. "—where did you come from?"

Elara glanced sharply at Merlin. "Merlin?"

Merlin’s hand clenched, the energy around him flickering uncontrollably. For a moment, the pressure in the room spiked, an almost unnatural intensity, as if reality itself strained to contain it.

Kael’s eyes flickered with something, curiosity, maybe even fear, before he masked it.

Then Merlin moved.

In a flash of light and wind, he vanished from the floor and reappeared directly in front of Kael, the air distorting around him. His hand grabbed Kael by the collar, slamming him into the railing of the upper walkway.

The older man didn’t struggle, he just laughed softly, the sound echoing through the warehouse. "There it is. The real you."

Merlin’s voice was low, dangerous. "You have no idea who you’re playing with."

Kael’s smirk returned. "On the contrary, I think I’m the only one who does."

The words froze Merlin again, just long enough.

Kael’s hand snapped up, pressing a small device against Merlin’s chest. A burst of energy rippled out, throwing him backward.

Elara shouted, leaping up with a surge of stone that shattered the walkway. Kael stumbled but managed to jump back as the structure collapsed beneath him.

He landed neatly on a lower platform, brushing dust from his coat. "That’s enough for tonight. I just wanted to see it, the thing they whispered about. The boy who doesn’t fit."

Elara landed beside Merlin, who was already standing, unharmed but furious. "You’re not leaving," she warned.

Kael looked up at her, almost pitying. "You two still believe you’re in control. But you’re just walking pieces on a board that was set long before you were born."

He tapped the small device in his hand, and the runes on the walls lit up.

Every crate, every piece of metal, began to hum again.

Merlin’s eyes widened. "He’s going to—"

The explosion hit.

A wave of mana detonated through the building, the light blinding. The floor shattered beneath them, and the entire front half of the warehouse caved in with a deafening roar.

When the smoke cleared, Kael was gone.

Merlin stood in the debris, chest heaving, dust coating his clothes. Elara was beside him, bleeding slightly from a cut on her cheek but otherwise fine.

She exhaled slowly. "He escaped."

Merlin nodded once, his jaw tight. "For now."

Elara looked at him, her eyes softening. "You’re shaking."

He hadn’t realized it until she said it. His hand trembled faintly, the adrenaline still surging.

"I’m fine," he said quietly.

But he wasn’t. Because Kael’s words, You don’t fit the mold, echoed in his skull, over and over.

For the first time in a long while, Merlin felt something he hadn’t expected to feel again.

Doubt.

He turned away, staring into the ruins of the warehouse. "He knows something. About me."

Elara frowned. "He’s bluffing."

"Maybe," Merlin murmured. "But if he’s not... I need to find out how."

He clenched his hand, lightning sparking faintly between his fingers.

Because Kael wasn’t wrong, Merlin didn’t belong here.

But this world was his now.

And anyone who tried to take it away would learn exactly what that meant.

The flames were gone by dawn.

What remained was smoke, thick, gray, clinging to the ruined bones of the warehouse.

The city’s cleanup drones hovered overhead, spraying containment mist and recording structural data. People gathered behind the barricades, whispering, speculating, filming.

Invoke’s insignia, that sharp, silver sigil, was half-buried under the rubble.

Merlin stood near the edge of the cordon, hood drawn up, his eyes fixed on the ruins.

Beside him, Elara crossed her arms, silent.

Neither had spoken much since the blast. There hadn’t been anything to say. The warehouse had collapsed too quickly, too precisely. Kael’s escape had been orchestrated, not desperate. He’d planned every second.

’He wanted me to follow,’ Merlin thought, golden eyes narrowing.

’He wanted me to see that device.’

Something about it, the brief pulse, the faint vibration under his ribs when it hit, hadn’t been ordinary. Not even close.

Elara’s voice cut into his thoughts. "You’re thinking too loudly again."

Merlin exhaled through his nose, glancing sideways at her. "You could hear that?"

Her lips curved faintly. "No. You just look like you’re about to start throwing lightning at rubble."

He didn’t smile. Not really. But the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Wouldn’t help," he said finally.

"No," Elara agreed quietly, her gaze returning to the ruin. "But it might feel good."

Silence settled again, thick but not uncomfortable.

Behind them, a sharp sound broke through the hum of the crowd. The rhythmic click of heels on stone. The shift of air that came before authority entered a room.

Merlin didn’t need to turn around. He knew that presence.

Morgana.

"Everhart. Vaelith."

Her voice carried, calm, measured, the kind that made everyone around her straighten instinctively. When Merlin finally looked back, the headmistress was standing there in full formal uniform, her coat embroidered with faint crimson thread that caught the dawn light.

Her expression, as always, was unreadable. But her silver eyes were colder than usual.

"What happened here?"

Merlin didn’t answer immediately. He’d never seen her look angry before. Disappointed, yes. Annoyed, occasionally. But this... this was something else.

He gestured toward the ruins. "A trap. Someone wanted to make a point."

"Who."

Not a question, a command.

Merlin hesitated. Then, quietly: "Adrian Kael."