Bloody Odyssey-Chapter 41: Merlin II

Chapter 40

On the earth below, the squad stood in a ragged semicircle, necks craned skyward. The two figures—Dax and the legendary Merlin—hung suspended against the pale blue like distant stars made flesh. Awe painted every face in the group.

"Why is Lord Merlin here?" Hanna’s voice came out small, laced with deep concern. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, as though the name alone carried a chill the Vados sun couldn’t touch.

Rain kept his eyes on the sky, arms folded across his chest. "I don’t question it, though. After seeing the captain’s display of power... I’m not surprised a being like that would show up."

Hanna glanced sideways at her brother, then back up. "From the very first moments with this guy, there’s been something off about him."

"Yes, sister," Rain agreed quietly. "I felt the exact same way the instant we met our new captain.

It’s clear —he’s no ordinary man."

Zain who had been silent, staring upward with the rest. Then, without warning, he threw his head back and laughed.

The sound started as a low chuckle, quickly spiraling into full, unrestrained hysteria that rolled across the plains. His shoulders shook; he clutched his stomach as though the laughter hurt.

The squad’s conversation died instantly. All eyes turned to him, concern etching deeper lines into their faces.

"Zain...?" Hanna ventured, stepping half a pace closer.

He waved them off, still laughing, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. "Nothing. Nothing at all." He sucked in a breath, grin wide and wild. "I just wonder... what in the nine hells are they discussing up there?"

High above, the wind swallowed every word from below.

Merlin’s gaze sharpened on Dax once more, amusement flickering like firelight in his ancient eyes.

"Sharp senses you have there, young man. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?" He laughed softly—warm, almost grandfatherly, yet carrying an undercurrent that reminded one of centuries stacked like old books.

Dax regarded him steadily. Seeing no immediate killing intent, he let his hand ease away from Cil’s hilt.

"My name is Dax," he said. The words came out with an unnatural calm, as though he were greeting a passing traveler instead of standing face-to-face with myth incarnate.

Merlin’s smile deepened, genuine delight creasing the corners of his eyes. "You’re a Godfall." He tilted his head, studying the long white hair whipping in the wind. "Your hair gives you away."

Dax met the old man’s gaze with dead stillness. No flinch. No denial. Just silence thick enough to cut.

"If it’s only my name you came for," Dax said quietly, "I’ll be leaving now."

He turned.

The barrier shimmered back into existence directly in his path—perfect, translucent, humming with quiet menace.

Dax halted.

Merlin’s playful mask dropped in an instant. His expression turned grave, voice low and serious.

"What is your relation to the Blood Rain from a month ago?"

The question landed like a thrown gauntlet.

Dax did not turn. Instead he closed his eyes.

Behind his lids, the memory surged unbidden: the searing agony of his rebirth as Origin, flesh unraveling and remaking itself, power flooding through veins that had once belonged to someone else. The cold certainty of becoming something more—and something less—than human.

Merlin watched in silence.

"Forgive me, child," he said at last, softer now. "I acknowledge your strength—genuinely. I am here with a request."

He inclined his head in a shallow, respectful bow. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Then, just as quickly, the mischief returned. He glanced at Dax with open playfulness before retracting the look, as though testing how far he could push.

"And what if I don’t accept?" Dax asked, tone flat.

This guy must be playing with me, he thought, noting the teasing glint.

Merlin spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "Please. Just help an old man. In return, I can help you with your core problem... and grant one request of your choosing."

Dax’s eyes widened fractionally.

Inside his mind, Inerous’s voice rang clear and eager.

Master—accept.

I really want to know what he’s after. Even I’m perplexed.

.

"Who meets a total stranger on the first day and makes a request of him?" Dax was flabbergasted.

Merlin chuckled as though the thought had been spoken aloud. "Surprisingly... a lot of people do that."

Dax studied him for a long moment. Then a small, wry smile touched his lips.

"I see." He inclined his head slightly. "The stage is yours."

"Haha! Good one, child." Merlin’s glee was almost infectious.

Ohh, a humorous old man, Inerous commented privately.

Merlin sobered just enough to continue. "What I ask is simple. I need help retrieving my grimoire from a friend."

He smiled like a child revealing a hidden treasure.

"In that spellbook lies the formula to create an artificial core—of your choice. You could even claim both, if the mood strikes you."

Dax arched a brow. "And your ’friend’ will just let me walk in, pick it up, and leave?"

"Since he’s your friend, why don’t you retrieve it yourself?" Dax tilted his head, sarcasm light but pointed.

Merlin turned away then. His gaze drifted toward the distant sun, now a burning coin balanced on the horizon. The golden light carved deep shadows into the lines of his face—lines etched by ages.

"...You wouldn’t understand."

A pause.

"It is an oath between brothers."

Dax watched the old man’s profile. There was no trace of sentiment in those eyes. Only regret—deep, quiet, and very old.

"Times are changing, child," Merlin murmured. "I can no longer afford to remain idle in this world."

His voice dropped further, almost lost to the wind. "The detestable ones are making their move again."

The words lingered between them like smoke from a dying fire.

Merlin seemed to drift for a moment, lost in memory.

Dax’s voice pulled him back gently. "So, old man. Where is your grimoire?"

Merlin blinked, refocusing. "Sky City."

"Sky City, huh."

"Yes." Merlin’s tone steadied. "This city is an imitation of the old days."

Dax’s thoughts flashed to the ancient tales whispered in forgotten tomes—the Sky Baby, the floating cradle said to have once carried newborn gods across the heavens. A myth so old it bordered on legend.

Curiosity sharpened inside him, keen and genuine.

If this place truly imitates that myth... I want to see it for myself.

"I accept," Dax said.

Then, with a faint, dangerous smile: "But what makes you think I won’t simply escape with your book?"

Merlin returned the smile—calm, knowing, almost fond.

"Because of your request."

He paused, eyes distant once more.

"He reminds me of that young lad I saw years ago. If I’m right... his request should be the same as that man’s."