💫
5 AM. Too early to call it morning, too late to call it night.
Morgana stared at Nimue, who looked even paler and more lifeless under the moonlight.
“That is…”
It hadn’t been long since the priests made a fuss after she woke up.
Perhaps feeling awkward under Morgana’s gaze, Nimue continued in her uniquely languid and drained voice.
“That’s what happened.”
Before Morgana could respond to the briefest possible answer, Excalibur spoke up first.
— See, I told you I was right.
Strictly speaking, Excalibur was not Nimue at the moment.
Originally, they were one and the same, so technically that was correct, but from Morgana’s perspective, they were two separate beings now.
Still, Excalibur was already taking her side.
Morgana cut in firmly.
“Yeah, but you’re not in Excal’s body yet.”
— Hey now, Master. After everything we’ve shared in bed, you’re going to be so cold? I care about you, so you should care about my body too!
“That’s the kind of thing that’s bound to be misunderstood if someone hears it!”
— Why? Did I say anything wrong? I didn’t.
Morgana let out a groan and held her forehead.
Excal…, no, Nimue, who had actually just slept alone under her blanket, calmly added, “…That’s why I couldn’t tell you.”
Apparently, Merlin had forcibly turned the scabbard into a person, separating soul and body.
Now that she thought about it, maybe Nimue’s strange lack of energy was because Excalibur had taken most of it.
‘If Excal’s excessive cheerfulness is due to a lack of brain, then it does kind of make sense.’
Even so, to be honest, Nimue still felt like a stranger.
Morgana cleared her throat and asked again, “Did you tell Merlin the location of the Holy Grail?”
“No. All I could do was keep my mouth shut…”
She seemed to have gone through quite a bit at the temple.
Morgana glanced around, then asked again, “Why are they even looking for the Holy Grail? I heard it grants wishes, but still.”
“He wants to summon his father.”
Huh…?
Morgana hesitated at the sudden mention of a father—it felt too random to even curse about. But the one speaking didn’t seem to care in the slightest.
“He’s a half-demon. His body can never wield divine power. So naturally, he wants to side with his father.”
The statement was shocking enough that Morgana wrinkled her nose.
“I noticed… There was another demon by his side, too.”
Nimue gave a faint smile and continued, “Demons can’t enter the temple. It’s the place where the divine relics are strongest. That’s why Merlin removed every single sacred relic from the main building.”
In other words, as long as Merlin remained in the temple, other demons couldn’t run rampant.
So, would it work if she strapped divine relics all over her body?
Morgana lightly shook her head to dismiss the silly thought and stared quietly at Nimue.
Watching Nimue silently endure her gaze, she asked, “Tomorrow, we’ll appoint Nimue as the High Priest.”
At sunrise, a religious tribunal would be held.
Once Merlin disappeared, the position of High Priest would be vacant.
Anyone could see that Nimue was the most suitable for the role. She had been bound to Merlin for over a hundred years.
She hesitated and asked, “Merlin will do whatever it takes to bring you down. He’ll claim the ancient scrolls you presented are fake. I’ll testify that they’re real, but still…”
“Oh, don’t worry about that.”
Morgana shrugged. She had already prepared for that.
Looking at the window where the pale morning light was beginning to seep in, Morgana smiled.
“Someone who knows those scrolls better than anyone else is on their way.”
💫
From early morning, the Holy Kingdom was solemn.
No one dared to speak carelessly.
The religious tribunal of the Holy Kingdom.
The trial presided over by Inquisitor Sentere was like walking on thin ice.
Holy knights blocked the entrance to the tribunal chamber.
At every corner, statues of angels blew trumpets, and behind Sentere stood a massive stone wall carved with the image of the goddess Coventina.
High-ranking priests sat cloaked in robes with their hoods pulled up, encircling the chamber like a coliseum.
Because of that, it was impossible to tell who was who from appearance alone.
At the center stood a circular platform. Aside from that platform, even Sentere had no elevated place to stand.
To either side of the platform stood Morgana and Nimue, both summoned as witnesses for the tribunal.
Sentere stood before the stage-like platform and called out, “Merlin, step forward to receive judgment.”
The stern expression from the night before remained unchanged.
If anything, under the harshness of the trial, his scarred appearance looked even more intimidating.
The holy knights gave a light push to Merlin’s back as he stood at the entrance.
Merlin was visibly on edge, his nerves stretched to the limit after just one day. His sharp eyes scanned the surroundings.
Glancing uneasily at the angel statues, as if trying to determine whether they were sacred relics.
When he stepped onto the platform, Sentere asked, “From Avalon to the continent, rumors have spread that the High Priest has fallen to corruption. Were you aware of this, Merlin?”
“It is slander.”
“You brought disgrace to the sanctity of the temple by falsely accusing the true wielder of the Holy Sword. Do you admit this?”
“I was the one who delivered the prophecy about the Holy Sword’s master. That accusation makes no sense.”
“Can you prove your faith in the divine?”
Merlin scoffed.
“Of course.”
Even during the interrogation, she remained upright and composed.
The reason became clear in her next words.
Divine faith meant divine power. Until now, Nimue had been the one supplying her divine power.
And now, standing right beside her, he was present.
With a glance, Merlin signaled to her. Nimue had no way to refuse him. Though her true form was a scabbard, she had been created by Merlin, and that origin bound her with a compulsion she couldn’t refuse.
She possessed divine power, albeit imperfectly, and that made the restraint even harder to resist.
Yet Nimue only stared straight at the floor.
Merlin, flustered, tried signaling with her eyes, but he remained silent.
Sentere pressed again.
“Prove it.”
“W-Wait a moment.”
Merlin, clearly panicked, looked around.
The priests, cloaked and hooded, hid their faces.
In the vast chamber where no sound could be heard, only her voice echoed. His sharp, high-pitched tone bounced off the air and came back to her ears like a mocking echo.
Memories of the past returned.
Back when he had been the pretty daughter of a slave.
(TN: So Merlin was a girl all along. In the Arthurian Legend, Merlin is always portrayed as Male.)
“Vulgar thing. Learn to flatter better. Who would ever take you in like this?”
“Hey, if you want to eat bread, you better crawl for it.”
Everyone around her had always ridiculed her. If she opened her eyes, they accused her of seducing men. If she walked, they forced her to her knees in humiliation.
Every time, wine would be poured over the head of the young Merlin.
Voices laughed, saying it matched her violet hair perfectly.
Men and women alike turned her suffering into their entertainment. She heard laughter again.
Giggles, echoing in her ears. She looked around to see who was laughing and where it was coming from,
But everyone’s mouths were closed.
No one was laughing.
Only when Merlin covered her ears with both hands did she come back to her senses.
No one was mocking her.
It was just the past resurfacing.
“I can’t go back to the bottom like this.”
How far she had come to reach this point.
If she could just summon her father, Then no one would ever look down on her again.
On the verge of success—and now they called her a heretic?
Merlin let out a short laugh and sharply rebuked Sentere standing before her.
“A few years ago, you inquisitors didn’t even show your noses—now you suddenly want a trial? Aren’t you the real heretic here?”
“Answer the question, Merlin!”
At the commanding voice, Merlin’s eyes gleamed wildly. She pointed to Morgana standing beside her and shouted,
“Do you know how much I’ve contributed to this temple? And how will you judge the heretic who brought fake ancient scrolls to stir up the sanctuary?”
“Those scrolls are genuine.”
A dull, lifeless voice gently flowed out from beside her.
For the first time since the tribunal began, Nimue had spoken, and all eyes turned to him.
Still looking down at the floor, he quietly continued, “They are real scrolls.”
“Are you insane? What did you just say? You told me they were fake!”
“They are genuine.”
‘Ah, now it all made sense.’
Nimue let out a dry laugh.
‘Haha… ha… the laughter grew louder.’
“So you’ve all been playing me for a fool! You’ve been scheming together, haven’t you? Then where’s the proof—do you have proof?”
Merlin glanced around wildly, madness flickering in her eyes.
“Nimue is the only one who knows the ancient language. Isn’t that how the law of the Holy Kingdom works? Can you even bring a second witness?”
Ordinarily, a High Priest would never be treated as a heretic.
One only rose to that position through divine power and being chosen by the gods.
Gods did not choose people lightly.
They would not betray, and two or more witnesses—especially if one was a saint or High Priest—were sufficient for absolute validation.
That was the law.
But now that the High Priest had fallen, that very rule became a trap.
Just before Sentere could respond—
“Priest Herzel is entering the temple as a witness for the tribunal.”
A firm voice echoed through the chamber.
Morgana smiled broadly.
As she turned around, there stood Herzel—Percival’s mother—with a stern gaze.
In her hand, she held the letter Morgana had sent.
Comments (0)