Merlin kept pushing Gregorovitch back. Dark energy was circling around the King, he looked at Merlin with a wide grin on his face.

“Do you really think you can win?” Gregorovitch laughed. “I wield the power of the Demon Lord himself!”

“We’ll see about that,” Merlin spat on the floor.

Merlin swiftly sent a fireball flying at Gregorovitch. But the king was ready. His mind moved in a circular motion, and a barrier of dark energy formed in the air, absorbing the attack with ease.

“You’re nothing but a relic!” the King yelled. “The Demon Lord’s power is beyond anything you’ve ever faced.”

Merlin sidestepped, and a bolt of lightning went flying from his body, launching it at the king. The strike hit Gregorovitch’s shield, causing it to crack but not shatter.

“I have already beaten him once, you idiot!” Merlin replied.

Max, meanwhile, was barely holding on. The soldiers—corpses risen with dark magic—kept pushing him on. His heart was beating fast as he kept launching one fireball after another. The undead skin burned, but it still wouldn’t stop them. Even without limbs, they would crawl towards Max.

“I’m not strong enough for this,” Max thought in a panic. “Come on, come on… think!”

The soldiers jumped at him, hands outstretched, claws scraping the air. Max raised his staff, casting Ice Lance once more. The sharp crystal tore through two soldiers, freezing their decaying limbs, but the third soldier dodged it, rushing toward him.

Max’s instincts kicked in. He teleported, just barely dodging the soldier’s grasp as he reappeared several feet away. “I’m running out of time… Merlin, hurry!”

Merlin didn’t hear anything, he was fully focused on beating Gregorovitch. With each spell, the room shook as waves of energy crashed against the walls, sending dust and pieces of ceiling raining down on them.

“You’re getting slow, old man!” Gregorovitch mocked, raising his hands high. The ground beneath Merlin cracked open, and from the hole rose pure darkness, snaking around Merlin’s legs, binding him in place.

“I’m not done yet,” Merlin smiled.

Merlin clapped his hands together, and a pule of raw energy shattered the darkness holding him. The ground shook beneath them, and for a brief moment, the balance of power shifted.

“Arcane Tempest!”

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From Merlin’s fingertips, a whirlwind of pure magic erupted. The throne room lit up like a storm had been unleashed within its walls, bolts of arcane energy striking in every direction. Gregorovotich’s shield started to shimmer, cracks spreading rapidly across its surface.

“No!” Gregorovitch screamed, trying to pour more dark energy into the shield, but it was too late.

The Arcane Tempest shattered his shield completely, sending Gregorovitch stumbling backward. His eyes wide with shock, the king’s grin finally disappeared, replaced by fear. Merlin took control, casting a massive spear of fire, aimed directly at the heart of the corrupted king.

“For the people you’ve destroyed, and for every soul lost to your madness.”

Merlin sent the flaming spear flying at the king’s chest. The king raised his arms to block, but the spear pierced through his chest. Fire engulfed him, consuming his body as he screamed, a terrible, high-pitched wail that spread across the throne room.

Max, watching from across the room, sat on the floor, relieved as the soldiers dropped on the floor.

Merlin walked forward as Gregorovitch’s burning body collapsed to the ground. The throne room was silent now, except for the faint sound of Gregorovitch’s dying breath.

The king’s eyes, hollow without any life, looked up at Merlin. “You… you cannot stop the plague… It’s… already… too late.”

“We’ll see about that.”

The remaining soldiers crumbled to dust, their bodies finally giving out now that their dark master was gone.

“Holy… crap,” Max muttered. “Is it over?”

Merlin turned to him, nodding. “For now. But we have more work to do.”

“More? How could there be more after this?”

“Because the plague is still out there. Gregorovitch may be dead, but the true enemy is the Demon Lord, don’t forget that.”

Max groaned, lying back on the cold stone floor. “I hate this shitty world…”

“Get up, you can’t rest yet.”

Max groaned again, rubbing his forehead as he slowly forced himself to stand up. “Seriously, can’t we just have, like, five minutes? I feel like I’ve been through a meat grinder.”

“You’ll live,” Merlin said dryly. “But if we don’t act quickly, none of this will matter. The plague this fucker unleashed is spreading beyond this town. We need to find the source and destroy it.”

Max stopped for a moment. “Wait, so… we didn’t stop it? You took down Gregorovitch! Shouldn’t that have done the trick?”

Merlin shook his head. “He was only a pawn in a much larger game. The Demon Lord gave him power, but the true source of the plague is tied to something far darker. We need to figure out what’s driving it.”

“So what now? We march out of here and fight some evil dark lord or whatever? How are we supposed to deal with that? Gregorovitch was already a nightmare.”

Merlin tapped his staff on the ground, the familiar sound echoing in the now-quiet throne room. “We start by finding the heart of this corruption. There’s a place, not far from here, deep within the mountains. I have reason to believe that’s where the Demon Lord is working from.”

“Oh, cool. So just a creepy, haunted mountain? Sounds like exactly the kind of thing I want to deal with.”

“This isn’t a joke, Max. The Demon Lord has been dormant for centuries, waiting for a chance to rise again. Now that Gregorovitch is dead, we’ve likely stirred the hornet’s nest. He’ll be watching us.”

“Fine, fine. Creepy mountain, world-ending plague, a Demon Lord ready to mess up our day… just another Tuesday, I guess.”

“Hey, Merlin,” Max called out as they stepped into the open air.

“What is it?”

“You really think we can do this?”

“We don’t have a choice, Max. The fate of this world—and countless others—rests on what we do next.”

Max sighed, shaking his head. “Great. No pressure then.”