indianbanksassociation Chapter 708 Epilogue-01
Chapter 708 Epilogue-01
708 Epilogue-01
As a trained king, Arthur had been taught by both Morgan le Fay and Merlin to maintain his composure, especially on the battlefield. Despite being momentarily startled, Arthur resisted Vortigern's push. Vortigern had seized the opportunity to press his sword forward, but Arthur held his ground.
Clank!
The two separated once again, but Arthur's eyes sharpened. A murderous intent flashed in his gaze. It was true that Arthur wanted to prove to everyone that he, as a king, was inferior to no one—not even Merlin, the Great Wizard. But this was not a truth Vortigern should have revealed. To keep this fact hidden... Vortigern had to die.
"I wonder what has upset you so, King of Camelot. Is it..." Vortigern glanced at Merlin. "Related to the one I think it is?" he probed.
Arthur didn't respond. Many of his subjects witnessed this duel, and he couldn't afford to lose his composure and tarnish his image as a wise and just king.
Instead, he charged toward Vortigern. The sacred sword in his hand radiated power, enhancing Arthur's strength, speed, and stamina.
Clank!
The swords clashed once more, but Vortigern was pushed back this time, quickly losing his balance. The force behind Arthur's strike made it clear that he intended to kill Vortigern this time. @@@@
Vortigern felt a pang of regret for provoking Arthur. He had thought his words might have shaken Arthur's composure, but he hadn't expected the king to remain so controlled. Vortigern's eyes darted to Merlin, Arthur, and Excalibur in Arthur's hand.
Vortigern knew he was going to die here, but that didn't mean he couldn't leave a lasting mark on Arthur.
With a final struggle, Vortigern defended himself, but Excalibur shattered his sword. The sacred blade pierced through Vortigern's armor as if it were thin paper. Vortigern felt the divine power of Excalibur surging through his cursed, undead body.
It wasn't long before his body began to disintegrate. Forcing out a malicious smirk, Vortigern whispered into Arthur's ear:
"You are nothing... Arthur. Without Merlin, you are nothing. That sword, the respect you command, even your position as king—all of it was granted by the wizard. Without him... what would you be, I wonder? Perhaps... your subjects would prefer Merlin over you... Ugh!" Vortigern grunted as Arthur twisted Excalibur, sending a sensation like a thousand blades tearing through his body.
"Hahahaha... You are nothing... Arthur..." Vortigern mustered the last of his strength to let out a mocking laugh before his body disintegrated into ash.
Arthur's face remained expressionless, but a storm—an unimaginable tempest—raged within his mind. He glanced briefly at Merlin before averting his gaze, his teeth clenched.
At that moment... a demon was born within his heart.
—
Within a day, the battle came to a conclusion. Ealdorman Thunor ordered the levies and peasants to clean up the battlefield. At the same time, Daniel blessed them to prevent any undead curses or diseases from spreading as they worked to dispose of the corpses.
Inside Ealdorman Thunor's keep, Arthur sat on the throne. Lancelot stood to his right, while Merlin stood to his left, holding his trusty wizard staff. Though Merlin didn't look like an old man, the staff gave him the appearance of a wise wizard, and so he carried it.
The Ealdorman knelt before Arthur, his eyes glancing around the throne room. His gaze lingered on two specific individuals: Merlin and Morgan le Fay, the two cornerstones who formed the foundation of Camelot. With these two remaining in Camelot, the Ealdorman felt confident that surrendering to Camelot was the right choice for his domain to prosper.
The rooster was, of course, Lucifer. Since his soul had been weakened to near dissipation while evading Vlad's hunt, he could not resist some of his animal instincts. This included the morning crowing and extreme irritation whenever he saw chicken eggs broken or used as food.
It felt like someone was using a human infant as food to him. It wasn't unbridled anger, of course. His soul was still that of a Hell Lord, after all—but the combination of his instincts and his intelligence made it feel like a form of mental torture every time he saw someone frying an egg.
"What!? You dare talk back!? Let's see how I'll turn you into honey-roasted chicken!" Mammon roared, spitting fire from his mouth to show his power.
"Alright, alright! Stop arguing already; it's annoying," Envy said in a tired voice, lightly slapping Mammon on the head.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
"And you! Stop humping that rabbit plushy already! It's disgusting!" Envy shouted at the black rabbit, who was relentlessly humping the rabbit plushy. The black rabbit was, of course, Asmodeus. As the Lord of Lust, having his soul trapped in a rabbit's body made his urges unbearable.
Seeing Asmodeus was ignoring her, Envy turned to Sat, the loyal dog resting on his cushy bed.
"Sat, my boy, help me out, will you?" Envy said to the dog.
Woof!
Sat responded happily before walking over to Asmodeus. With his mouth, he tore the rabbit plushy to pieces!
"Ahhhh! Momo-chan!" Asmodeus cried out as he watched his favorite rabbit plushy being destroyed by the damn dog with Satan's power.
"Mamaaa!"
"Sister"
Two voices called out to her. The first voice was jovial, accompanied by the hurried footsteps of a child running, little Sylvana dashing into the kitchen from the second floor. The second voice belonged to a mature woman.
She was dressed in plain cloth, her bosom carrying a boy of about three years old as he waved his hand at Envy. The woman was none other than Penthesilea, who had already given birth to Daniel's son.
"Andreas... greet your mama, Envy," Penthesilea spoke to her son in a gentle tone.
"Mama... Ebby," the child said with his still-developing speech.
"How are you today, little Andreas?" Envy said as he touched the small hand of the child.
"Sister... is there still no news of Lord Emberweave?" Penthesilea asked, her eyes reflecting longing.
Hearing this, Envy let out a sigh. "How many times have I told you to call him Danny, or husband, or darling, or anything closer than what you call him?" Envy lightly admonished her sister.