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A soft voice murmured some instructions.
“A small puppy. Morgana must have it—steal that puppy. The location is…”
Tristan’s ears heard nothing.
Only the hope of saving Iseult. That was all that existed. If he could save her, he was ready to sell even his soul.
‘I can save her.’
Tristan tightly hugged Mankim, his last hope.
The meeting place was a small building far from the banquet hall.
It had once been a resting place during the previous king’s reign, but after Kellive’s coronation, it had fallen into disuse.
Most guests were gathered in the main hall, and even the guards were distracted by Count Ruddle’s affairs, leaving the surroundings quiet.
Tristan silently concealed his presence and slipped through the window.
In the desolate hallway, where no trace of human presence lingered, Mangeum’s whimper echoed.
“Grr… Kng!!”
“I’m sorry. You probably didn’t want to be separated from your owner either…”
His focus wavered for a moment.
It wasn’t Mangeum he saw—but himself beyond the puppy. Himself, who had suffered night and day, unwilling to part with Iseult.
As he gently stroked the still-growling puppy, Merlin’s voice sounded from a distance.
“You kept your promise well. Now hand over the puppy.”
He approached with eager strides, her arms outstretched to take Mangeum.
But the moment she reached for him—Tristan swiftly stepped back.
Instantly, Merlin’s previously elated expression turned icy.
“What do you think you’re doing, Sir Tristan?”
“Saving Lady Isolde comes first.”
“Give me the puppy. Then I’ll save her.”
He reached out again, but Tristan quickly moved out of her range.
“I’m a knight too. Did you really think I couldn’t evade you? Stop wasting your energy and save her first.”
“Are you mocking me right now? Give me the puppy!”
Merlin, anxiously biting his lip, suddenly stretched out his hands with a sharp cry.
Tristan let out a hollow laugh and answered firmly, “I haven’t forgotten that in the Caledonian Forest, under the temple’s care, my lady passed away.”
That was why he believed Isolde’s strange death could be reversed.
Because Merlin was the High Priest. Because he had divine power. Because the gods had chosen him. He was, quite literally, his last hope.
“Then bring her back first. After that, I’ll hand over the puppy without another word.”
At his unyielding response, Merlin snorted with laughter.
What started as a small chuckle soon grew louder. Before long, he was clutching his stomach, head bowed, laughing uncontrollably.
“Haha… hahahaha…”
Even though this was no situation for laughter, she wiped away tears.
Then—snap—his laughter stopped abruptly. When Merlin lifted his head again, his face was filled with nothing but rage.
“Since when does a lowborn knight dare give me orders?”
His pupils burned with a fleeting crimson glow, intense as a curse.
Locking eyes with Tristan, he reached out once more.
“Now, give me the—”
“So you never had any intention of reviving her.”
“…?!”
Merlin’s eyes widened in shock. The red hue in his irises faded, replaced by sheer distortion.
“You said you wanted to save Lady Isolde—was that all a lie? You don’t even show a shred of regret.”
“No. I do regret it.”
Tristan gripped the sword at his waist. His primary weapon was the bow, but in a one-on-one fight, ranged combat was a disadvantage.
That was why he had brought this blade.
“But I won’t deny the truth—my lady is gone. As hard as it is to believe, I’m doing the best I can right now.”
He drew his sword and pulled the puppy tightly into his arms. Tristan’s subdued voice carried unwavering determination.
“Even if it means resorting to dishonorable means—I won’t wallow in regret. I’ll find a way, whatever it takes.”
“Damn you!”
Curses fester by gnawing at the weakest points of one’s will.
Any ordinary person would drown in regret, endlessly replaying their mistakes.
But Tristan was different.
A dark magic circle unfurled in Merlin’s hand.
“I tried to make this quick and painless.”
Black talons, like claws, slashed toward Tristan.
He tried to evade, but sword against magic—The outcome was clear.
Thud—-
The talons pierced Tristan’s side.
Coughing up blood, he still refused to let go of the puppy in his arms.
‘At the very least, I have to send the puppy back.’
Grimacing through his blurring vision, he forced himself to stand. His eyes darted around the hallway.
No one was there—but if he caused even a slight disturbance, the guards, already preoccupied with Count Ruddle’s affairs, would come swarming.
Spotting the window, Tristan gathered the last of his strength and lunged—Not at Merlin, but toward the glass.
Crash!
A deafening sound as the windows shattered.
Ignoring the flying shards, he smashed through every pane in his path.
In that brief opening, he released the puppy.
“Go! Now!”
“No! You—!”
Another set of black talons from Merlin’s hand impaled Tristan’s back.
With a choked gasp, he collapsed face-first onto the floor.
Merlin, paying him no further mind, frantically searched through the broken window for Mangeum.
“Gone… He’s gone…!”
The tiny puppy had vanished with impossible speed—not a trace left behind.
Just then, the sound of guards rushing toward the commotion echoed down the hall.
“This way!”
Muttering a curse, Merlin swiftly raised her hand.
It was time to return to her composed, dignified self—the High Priestess calmly preparing for the banquet in her guest chamber.
She summoned her magic to teleport away—But—
“…Huh?”
Nothing happened.
A failed black magic circle lay dormant at her feet.
When she looked up—Countless swords were pointed at her.
The sheer number of guards made it impossible to cast curses or force her way through. She was trapped between a rock and a hard place.
As she hesitated, stepping back while gauging the situation—The guards abruptly parted like a tide.
Through the gap, Morgana and Kellive stepped forward.
“Your Holiness. What are you doing here?”
Shattered windows.
Tristan, lifeless and bleeding.
And Merlin.
Morgana’s eyes swiftly scanned the surroundings.
‘Mangeum…?’
Kellive, standing beside her, gave a subtle shake of his head.
It seemed the puppy had already escaped.
‘At least he didn’t fall back into Merlin’s hands.’
Merlin smiled at Morgana’s question.
“Why the suspicion?”
The magic circle had long since vanished. He feigned innocence, playing the part of the benevolent High Priest—but everyone present knew his true nature.
Morgana grinned and pressed further.
“I’m looking for a puppy.”
“Then you’ve come to the wrong place. I haven’t seen any puppies.”
“Yes, I thought you’d say that.”
The knights’ swords inched closer to Merlin.
A single move would bring the blades to her throat. Morgana glanced at Tristan’s fallen form, then closed her eyes briefly before speaking firmly.
“Merlin. You’ll need to be questioned regarding Tristan’s death.”
Though she called it an investigation, everyone already knew the culprit.
Kellive smirked and added, “You killed a citizen of Avalon in neutral territory. You know what that means.”
“No—”
Merlin’s wide eyes darted helplessly.
Kellive raised his hand and commanded, “Restrain him.”
Suddenly—
The knight holding his sword behind her froze, his eyes widening.
“Wh—? Your Majesty, what is this…?”
Before his words even finished, everyone understood why.
A long, oval-shaped black void had opened behind Merlin—so utterly dark that nothing within was visible.
From its depths, a small black hand shot out and seized Merlin by the throat.
It happened in an instant.
The childlike hand, unaffected by the blades trying to intercept it, dragged Merlin into the black portal.
Like sinking into quicksand, the void swallowed her whole, her body vanishing in a grotesque ripple.
One might have thought she was escaping—but Merlin’s face had gone deathly pale.
“I-I’m sorry…!”
By the time the void completely consumed her, only her faint, trembling voice lingered in the hallway like an echo.
‘What… was that?’
Morgana blinked in shock—then, from behind her, came a sharp snap of fingers.
As the others turned, Aide stood there with a shrug, his expression innocent.
“I came to check when someone tried slipping past my guards.”
Tilting his head, he blinked slowly.
“Turns out there was a demon here?”
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