In that moment, Lilo finally saw the man’s face, like a veil lifting under moonlight.
He wasn’t the ancient figure of rumor; Master Merlin looked young, a handsome statue cut from winter marble.
Silver-white hair fell over his shoulders like a quiet waterfall, unkempt yet unmarred, and ice-blue eyes held no spare emotion, fixed on Lilo like a glacier’s gaze.
To be precise, his focus was an arrow aimed at Aphelia nestled in Lilo’s arms.
Flustered first, Lilo rose and offered an apology, but before her words could find breath about Aphelia, Merlin’s voice cut like frost.
“Leave her to me.”
It was what Lilo wanted, yet the chill in his tone wrinkled her brow like a cold wind; he was a famed archmage of the Demon World, a mountain beyond her measure.
With that thought, she sighed and moved to leave, but when she turned, the ladder of light had melted like mist; the crystal wall sealed like ice, and countless Demigod arrays flared awake, drawing cold sweat like rain across her spine.
She turned to ask Merlin for help, but he didn’t spare her a glance; his eyes held Aphelia like a priest holds an altar, and he placed her upon the arcane apparatus with ceremonial care.
Then, a tidal wave of Arcane Power burst around Merlin, a storm so crushing Lilo’s body answered on instinct; Crimson Dragon Source flared and she staggered back like a reed before fire.
The vast Mage Tower dissolved into a deep and silent starfield; countless stars opened like lanterns, and before Merlin, a deep-blue pupil formed, staring at unconscious Aphelia like the night’s single eye.
As that boundless sky unfolded, Lilo felt a presence like Senro’s—only heavier, like thunder over sea—already at True God strength; the Star Remnant path to godhood looked exactly like the cosmos Merlin wore.
Brilliant wings of light spread behind him like dawn, and twelve golden constellations condensed as if given flesh, circling Aphelia while silver starlight flowed in rivers into the apparatus.
Endless Demigod arrays revived like bees finding a hive; no longer hostile, they fed under Merlin’s guidance, becoming Rune after Rune, weaving into a grand array like a loom of stars.
That silver starlight thickened into countless Mana Crystals, a crystalline tide powering the whole design; Merlin, the architect at the forge, watched the twelve golden shadows, lips moving with a quiet chant.
“What terrifying power… worthy of the Demon World’s Protector Mage,” Lilo murmured, her voice a dry leaf in wind.
She managed a wry smile; just resisting the weight of those stars was her limit, and as the array rose like a city of light, her Arcane Power slid from her grasp like sand through fingers.
It wasn’t hard to picture her fate once the array fully bloomed—like a leaf hurled into a hurricane.
Merlin never looked her way, driving the process like a river carves stone; in his eyes there was only Aphelia and the lattice of the array.
That near-emotionless gaze chilled her memory first; then it tugged at her father’s old words about Merlin like a bell from long ago.
A mage said to exist since the Demon World appeared—no one knew how long he’d walked, nor how deep his strength ran; some even whispered an absurd rumor that Merlin predates the Demon World itself, a stone older than the river.
No one believed such windblown talk; its source was smoke, a tavern joke that scattered with the night.
Yet it still hinted at his depth—this court mage who’d stood beside the Demon World’s royal line since its dawn, a pillar casting a long shadow.
Time and knowledge are the wellspring of a mage’s strength; Merlin had once displayed ancient magics before the Demon World’s greats, ringing the hall like an old bronze bell.
Even a minor mage, given a long enough winter, could let snowfall turn avalanche; with mere stored Arcane Power released like a bursting dam, one could reach True God might on time alone.
All the more with someone like Merlin—an ocean behind the dam.
The array he forged now was a galaxy Lilo couldn’t chart; she had no strength left to think, only a thin hope that he’d stop before her thread snapped.
Crimson sparks became a cloak of flame, wrapping her like a burning mantle, shielding her from the breath of that vast sky; a crimson dragon phantom rose around her, roaring deafeningly to scatter the silver starlight gathering like frost.
That roar drew Merlin’s glance, a winter blade; the cold look made Lilo’s skin crawl, and the proud crimson dragon bowed its head like a hound before a king, whimpering.
Merlin, presiding over the array, just snorted; a silver-white staff formed in his hand like moonlight made solid, and with a light sweep the crushing pressure above Lilo vanished like cloudbreak; the starlight’s cycle no longer pressed on her, leaving a small sanctuary like clean snow.
Relief came first; Lilo exhaled and sank to the floor like a string cut, and the slow river of silver light sliding past made her scalp prickle like frost.
True God power—still beyond a mortal’s reach, a sky no ladder can climb.
The silver starlight drifted gently, yet its contained might felt like a sleeping dragon; Lilo didn’t dare touch it, fearing its notice would bring the storm ceiling down again.
“Th-thank you, Master Merlin,” she said, voice trembling like a reed, but Merlin didn’t answer; he kept sketching the lines of the array like a scribe carving runes into stone.
The boundless star-river began to sink around Aphelia, then churned and evolved like a whirlpool; vast Arcane Power was born within, pouring into the apparatus, while silver Mana Crystals spread over it like a forest of glass, filling the voids of this deep universe.
Inside Aphelia’s sea of consciousness, the war of black and white burned at fever pitch; dark beasts and silver soldiers hacked and tore, and a winding great serpent devoured radiant pillars like a river eats banks, while blazing light carved wound after terrifying wound along its coils.
As leaders, Uroboros and the silver maiden clashed together; Obsidian Scepter met Silver Lance in midair with blinding sparks, and a storm of Arcane Power erupted, sweeping the whole field like a typhoon.
By now, in those mountain heaps of corpses, you could barely tell silver soldier from black beast—snow and ash mingled.
The silver maiden only grew fiercer, her lance hunting Uroboros’s vitals like a hawk, and blazing radiance fell at intervals like an unseen Reaper waiting for her slip.
By contrast, Uroboros attacked yet more often raised her scepter to defend, rarely driving with True God force; she looked wary, a coiled snake beneath thunder, holding back her full strike.
Under that exchange, the gap widened, the board tipping toward one side; cunning as Uroboros was, she wouldn’t allow it—plans flashed like cards and she overturned them all.
Her black feathered robe tore under the gale, pale skin laid bare like porcelain, and she had no breath to care.
“Damn it… have you forgotten your master?” she roared, anger first and steel after, sweeping the scepter; black Arcane Power blasted out like a volcano, forcing the silver maiden back and opening a small pocket of air.
But the silver maiden seemed tireless, a bell that never stops; she ignored the snarl, steadied herself after the blast, and her lips shaped that ethereal chant again like wind through chimes.
At once, countless fierce lights hammered down from the sky like a meteor rain, set on annihilating Uroboros, uncaring of friendly fire among silver soldiers, spearing for her in midair with killing intent.
Uroboros’s face darkened like storm clouds; she gave a shriek, and countless black legions halted their assault, flying to her front like a flock of ravens, bodies raised as shields against the terrible blaze.
Even so, the barrage only slowed like a river checked by stones; it still drove for Uroboros, buying her only a handful of breaths.
Then the Silver Lance ripped the sky like lightning, blinding, and pierced Uroboros clean through; she dropped like a puppet with strings cut, straight down from the heavens.
The silver maiden’s aura faltered instantly, her song stalling like a broken harp, as if she’d taken a grave wound—yet she kept moving, intent on rushing in to finish Uroboros.
