"You," Haddock laid him the acute eyes. Heading towards the false Merlin, he summoned Jubilant Jay and gave his broom friend the freedom to absorb all the vitality of that “decrepit” mage.

Merlin barely moved. All he did was lift his hand to affect the Reality Bending to Jubilant Jay, causing it to split in two before rejoining as it streaked past the abbot, hurtling towards the wall at an uncontrollable speed.

"You're an absolute twat," Haddock growled, his anger boiling over.

"I advise you to restrain your anger," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "It will cloud your concentration."

Haddock derided at his words, his sarcasm cutting through the air. "Wow. How great is your impersonation! As wise as the real Merlin, you certainly are!"

Jay continued to assail the First Grand Magus back and forth. The result was nil. Since Merlin's magic was embedded in it, the broom somehow could not lay any attack on him.

"I told you, I have endured a thousand years."

Jubilant Jay came from the left and took aim at Merlin's head, only to fragment into four, parting as they swirled in a vortex before merging once more and darting towards the right.

"...And I am Merlin, Your Honourable Grand Magus," added Merlin again.

Recognising the futility of the predicament, Haddock ordered Jubilant Jay to withdraw into the pocket dimension beneath his ample coat.

"You amaze me so much. How are you able to present yourself as the Great Camelot Wizard with such assurance? You should pay a visit to the asylum to have your wit examined. Compared to Danhar, our medical technology is more advanced."

"Why should I bear shame for my true identity?"

Haddock resolved to unleash a blaze of magical fire upon Merlin's face, which he promptly brushed away. In a swift manoeuvre, Merlin grabbed Haddock's hand. Haddock retracted it and rotated, this time displaying his wand shaping a blade—the Static Ligaveris spell—poised to slash the monk's right leg. But the wily Merlin lifted his leg and spun, lunging at Haddock with the same leg and propelling him several metres away.

"I see, you like to play games," Haddock quipped again, "Do you have a penchant for playing tricks on the residents of Chixian Shenzhou as well? Claiming to be the 'Sage Merlin', who will wipe out the entire empire in one fell swoop? Is that why Danhar became a separatist and bombarded by war? All because of your charade?"

"You may be the foremost Grand Magus in the world of thaumaturgy, but you understand nothing about Danhar's affair. All the immoral acts that Chixian Empire has committed, all that my people have gone through!" Merlin retorted.

"Danhar? Your people?" A scornful chortle from Haddock. "What a disappointment, so Camelot is no longer yours? Wait, it never was!"

Haddock's anger grew with every passing moment, this time several shots of Omen Lucem enlivened the atmosphere. More cheap, frustrating shots, Merlin surmised. Something that shattering himself into shards of glass upon impact would easily sort.

"You! Just! A random man! Who happened to dabble in Sorcery! With Protos particles! You don't even! Have! Your Camelot accent!" Haddock shouted, his words punctuated by bursts of energy.

"Hah. Old news, Grand Magus! How unfazed I am by your persistent doubts!"

Moving closer, Haddock and Merlin clashed once again. Haddock pointed his wand directly at the abbot, but Merlin, his head cold as ever, deflected the wand with great force, causing their movements to sync in a dance of rigidity. They both thrust into each other.

In response to Merlin's words, Haddock muttered, "Of course, no one believes Merlin lived a thousand years ago! He's dead! Then look, he suddenly came out of the grave, clad in ragged attire you call monastic fashion, practicing Eastern magic, and then picking quarrels with other nations! Do you genuinely think people will buy into it?"

"Why do you insist on dictating others' narratives, young man? I am who I am. If in your mind, Merlin is a bearded man in a cloak and pointed hat, carrying around a tree twig he calls a wand, then I'm afraid I can't give you the grandeur clothes part. But if you insist, pay heed to this..."

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Out of thin air, Merlin clutched something resembling a brown tree branch!

"Bombardarum!"

The spell did not come out of Haddock's mouth. He had not even had time to react to the wand’s appearance from Merlin's fist!

All because a giant explosion separated the two of them at an abrupt pace. Haddock was flung forcefully. Fireless the explosion was, but the boom was no less loud. Loud enough to divert everyone to them. Both the wizard and sorcerer groups were awe-struck at the sight of Merlin holding a wand. The wizards gaped even more, chests heaving with deep intimidation. The sorcerers, on the other hand, were amazed even more.

A cloud of dust filled the place where Haddock fell. He struggled to rise amidst fits of harsh coughing. "Ah, bollocks! What the…" Haddock straight reached for his wand and shouted, "Concursus!"

Merlin heard the spell. An invitation spell for a cast-and-clash—a magic battle—where both magicians marshalled their mana to clash with each other, determining the victor. Merlin knew that Concursus was not a spell to be trifled with. It was a powerful spell that could pierce through almost all kinds of magical defences. A direct hit would unleash an explosion, siphoning a significant portion of his life force in a single strike. Losing that much mana could plunge him into a coma, and it might take days to recover.

So the only way to fend off a Concursus spell was to respond to that 'invitation'—letting out the same spell or a similar kind to pit against. As Haddock's wand glowed green, a burst of red light erupted from Merlin's. The two beams collided in mid-air, generating a small beam of light that produced a mixture of yellow and white, like sparks! One of the intimate magic combats, both Merlin and Haddock could feel each other's strength. A competition draining all their might to see whose luminescence would ultimately prevail and devour the entire mana turmoil.

Merlin felt his entire body tingle with the shock—the energy rushing in and out of his body. While mustering his mana, Merlin addressed Haddock, "I've been through a lot, Grand Magus! You're right. I was dead. I should have died. But I don’t. I cannot die. I had a dream. I'm cursed. I have to carry out the task of wading through the realm, many times. And endless search, until the dream that I experienced, becomes a reality."

"No! Stop that damned nonsense!"

The sparks began to advance towards Haddock. The Grand Magus was mad. His brows furrowed upon those sparks, as if willing them away with his fierce glare. But glares were just glares, and they accomplished nothing but wrinkles.

"I had to travel around the same world over and over again, couldn’t stay too long lest people suspect my existence. That was, until I found this mountain tribe." Merlin watched his followers fight like proud old men. "The people of Danhar. Somehow, they share the same dream as me. They await the saviour and destroyer of the world of thaumaturgy. Hundreds of years! For generations, they have been smitten by difficult times, but their hope remains. I learnt their stories, practice their way of life, and learnt their magic. All for the sake of making that dream come true!"

Merlin's magic overwhelmed the power of the Grand Magus. As the sparks closed in on his wand, Haddock instinctively threw his wand aside. The explosion occurred, and the wand's fate was concealed, lost amidst ruins and crevices. The wizards' morale plummeted. With the numbers on their odds, they were not even sure they could overcome the Eastern rite sorcerers!

Haddock had his back to the old man, seeking his wand with disbelief on his visage. That mountain ascetic could utilise two kinds of mystic arts? That was nigh impossible! It could have been a dirty trick from that old man! Him and his black magic power! If this person was truly something, Haddock still could not believe it was the true Merlin.

However, being defeated by a mountain hermit could put his power as a Grand Magus into question, not to mention when he chose to throw away his wand rather than to “accept defeat”. It would take away his honour. His reputation could be ruined. And the dark entities would later look down on the Magisterium of Arcane Plane. Yet, the awaiting future did not share the burden on his mind, though he remained embarrassed. To him, the safety of his life was more important than being cursed to sleep for days. In his thought as well, he still considered the elite wizards of the Magisterium, the hopeless sheeps in disarray without his presence. He must always be with them while still in office.

"...So know that I'm not joking, Grand Magus...!" Merlin called again to Haddock.

Now Haddock turned back to Merlin. Face full of anger tinged with disbelief. With a surge of determination, he charged at Merlin. He refused to yield. He did not care if he lost his current magic ability. All he desired was to deliver a resounding blow to the esteemed "Great Merlin's" face—a singular strike fueled by rekindled wounded pride, a thirst for vindication that could not be ignored.

Even with his mastery of martial arts, Haddock could never lay a finger on Merlin's piece of cloth. The Grand Magus, once revered, now stood as a mere object of ridicule before the "First Grand Magus," who effortlessly countered every attack with precision.

With conviction in his voice, Merlin's voice resounded, "…I risked coming here to fulfil the prophecy! So that the people of Danhar may find salvation. The Shenzhou Empire may be redeemed. The entire world may claim peace. So that I may finally be allowed to accept my death. I care not for the judgements of others. The tranquillity I seek transcends the mockery I endure! Now, cease obstructing our path!"

Parrying the Grand Magus' now-languid strike, Merlin retaliated with a series of powerful jabs. For the finishing blow, Merlin launched a jump-spinning backkick directly to Haddock’s chest! Normally, it would have sent him hurtling into the wall, but within Merlin's realm of Reality Bending, the wall transformed into a square frame that jutted inward. There was no end. An infinite aisle. Its gravitational pull was relenting, his body kept distancing from the crowd as if falling into an unfathomable abyss. []