Absolute Being: I Am Nothing-Chapter 85: Death Of The Dark Lord

Merlin stopped walking.

He didn’t turn around. Didn’t move at all for a long, heavy moment. The others watched him—Adam with raised eyebrows, Kahdijah with sudden interest, Morgana with confusion, Bolt with wariness.

Then Merlin spoke.

"No."

The word hung in the air.

He turned slowly, facing the Dark Lord again. The man—Theron, once, before he became this—stood among the ruins of his empire, surrounded by the transformed remnants of his castle. His ancient eyes held that flicker of hope, that desperate belief that maybe, just maybe, he would survive this.

Merlin walked back toward him.

"I changed my mind," Merlin said quietly. "We’re not going to talk."

The hope died.

The Dark Lord’s face went through several expressions in quick succession—fear, anger, resignation, and finally something that looked almost like peace. He straightened his spine, lifting his chin.

"So this is it," he said. "Five hundred years, and it ends with a boy."

"I told you. I’m not a kid."

"No." The Dark Lord shook his head slowly. "You’re not. I see that now."

Merlin stopped a few feet away. Close enough to touch. Close enough to end it.

"You knew this day would come," Merlin said. "Someone like you. Five hundred years of ruling through fear and death. You had to know someone would eventually show up who could stop you."

The Dark Lord nodded. "I knew. I just... I thought I’d be ready. I thought I’d find a way. I always found a way before."

"Not this time."

"No." A sad smile touched his lips. "Not this time."

Behind them, the last remnants of his empire were still falling. Watchtowers crumbled. Barracks dissolved. The great gates that had once kept the world out became nothing more than piles of harmless dust. His soldiers, pinned and helpless, watched their world end.

Morgana stepped forward. "Merlin. Be careful. He’s tricked better men than—"

"He’s not tricking anyone." Merlin’s voice was calm. Certain. "He’s just tired."

The Dark Lord met his eyes. "You can see that?"

"I can see everything about you. Every atom. Every memory. Every fear." Merlin paused. "You were a carpenter’s son. You wanted to build things, not destroy them."

The Dark Lord flinched.

"The war changed you," Merlin continued. "The power found you. The world made you into something else. And somewhere along the way, Theron died and the Dark Lord took his place."

No one spoke.

"My name," the Dark Lord whispered. "You know my name."

"I know everything."

A long silence stretched between them. The sounds of distant destruction faded. The world seemed to hold its breath.

"What happens now?" the Dark Lord asked.

Merlin looked at him for a long moment. Then he raised his hand.

"You die," he said quietly. "And the world forgets you ever existed."

The Dark Lord closed his eyes.

Merlin’s hand closed into a fist.

The Dark Lord’s body began to change—not painfully, not violently. Just... peacefully. His form grew lighter, more translucent, like morning fog burning away under sunlight. The centuries of accumulated power, the dark energy that had sustained him for five hundred years, dissolved into harmless light.

He opened his eyes one last time.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?"

"For letting me remember who I was. Before the end."

Merlin nodded once. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

The Dark Lord—Theron, son of a carpenter, brother to three sisters, a man who had wanted nothing more than to work with wood and live in peace—smiled.

Then he was gone.

Not dust. Not ash. Just... absence. The space where he had stood held nothing but empty air and fading warmth.

Merlin lowered his hand.

The silence was absolute.

Morgana stared at the empty space. Her staff hung loose at her side, forgotten. She had spent her entire life dedicated to this moment—to the prophecy, to the chosen one, to the defeat of the Dark Lord. And now it was over. Just like that.

Bolt exhaled slowly. "He’s really gone."

Kahdijah tilted her head. "Peaceful. I expected more screaming."

Adam said nothing. He just watched Merlin with an expression that was hard to read.

Merlin stood alone in the center of the transformed courtyard, surrounded by the ruins of an empire that no longer existed. His shoulders rose and fell with a single deep breath.

Then he turned and walked back toward them.

"It’s done," he said quietly.

Morgana found her voice. "Just... just like that? Five hundred years of terror, and it’s over in minutes?"

"You wanted it to take longer?"

"No, I just—" She stopped, shook her head. "I don’t know what I expected. A battle. A struggle. Something."

Merlin glanced back at the empty space where the Dark Lord had stood. "He wasn’t fighting anymore. He hadn’t been fighting for a long time. He was just... going through the motions. Waiting for someone to finally end it."

Adam nodded slowly. "I’ve seen that before. Immortality does that to people. Eventually, you want someone to prove they can actually stop you."

Merlin looked at him. "Is that what you want?"

Adam smiled. "Nah. I’m too young for that. Ask me again in a few thousand years."

A distant cheer rose from the city. Word was spreading. The Dark Lord was dead. His army was broken. His empire was gone.

Morgana listened to the sound, and tears filled her eyes. Not of sadness. Of relief.

"My family," she whispered. "My parents. My sister. Everyone who died to make this moment possible. They can finally rest."

Merlin put a hand on her shoulder. "They’ve been resting. They just didn’t know it yet."

She looked up at him. "What happens now? To you? To us?"

Merlin was quiet for a moment. Then he looked at Adam.

"I think," he said slowly, "I go with them. Learn what I really am. What I can become."

Adam nodded. "Good answer."

"But I’ll come back." Merlin looked at Morgana. "This is still my world. My home. My parents are still here. I won’t abandon it."

Morgana nodded, wiping her eyes. "I’ll watch over things while you’re gone. Make sure the peace holds."

"You sure?"

She managed a small smile. "I’m a High Priestess of a dead order. I’ve got nothing but time."

Merlin smiled back. It was a small thing, but genuine.

Behind them, the city’s celebrations grew louder. Torches were being lit. Songs were being sung. The long night was ending.

Adam stretched his arms above his head. "Alright. Emotional moment over. Let’s go find some food. Fighting—or watching someone else fight—always makes me hungry."

Kahdijah snorted. "You didn’t fight at all."

"I provided moral support."

"That’s not a thing."

"It is now."

Bolt watched them banter, then looked at Merlin. "You did good, kid."

Merlin’s eye twitched. "I just killed a five-hundred-year-old tyrant. I think I’ve earned the right to not be called ’kid.’"

Bolt considered this. "Fair point. You did good, Merlin."

Merlin nodded. "Better."

They walked toward the city together, leaving behind the ruins of the Dark Lord’s empire. Behind them, the transformed manor house stood quiet and peaceful, the last remnant of a man who had once been a carpenter’s son.

The sun was beginning to rise.