409 May the Lord Have Mercy

Late at night in Avalon, sickly white light illuminated the Privy Council. Lancelot took a deep breath and pushed open the metal box before him. Inside it, the 'creature' ate the light and tore apart the darkness. Cold and sharp light shot out from it. It appeared in the air for a moment and even breathing became painful.

The sharp light filled the air, turning the air into needles that pierced at the lung. One could see vaguely that the blade was carved with a fine and ancient music score. However, it was covered by dried blood and had become blurry and faint. It was so serene when it was not drinking blood. It was terrifyingly serene.

Lancelot picked it up and caressed the broken body of the spear and the seemingly dull tip. He seemed to hear a dragon's heavy breathing and sweat poured from his back.

"The dragon slayer, the fallen steel, the spear of purification…this is it." Lancelot carefully put the weapon back into the box and sighed. "St. George's Spear."

"The map from the Ministry of Information was accurate."'Tristan,' still in his armor, sat before Lancelot. He had not yet washed after the travel. His eyes were tired and his hair messy. There was a crack in his armor as well. There was no sign of his prestige as the deputy of the Round Table Knights. Studying the spear inside the box, his eyes grew respectful. "We found it in the Well of the Ultimate. Unfortunately, the cost was high."

"Did no one else return?"

After a long silence, Tristan shook his head. "They all died."

Lancelot fell silent for a long while as well. He reached out for the cigar box but lowered his hand after hesitating. "Tell me, Tristan." He coughed and he rasped out, "What happened?"

"We prepared the best ship. Within six short days, we experienced being stranded, submerged reefs, and sea creatures born from Leviathan's awakening. When we arrived, we had already lost six men. Then we finally entered the ghost city. When we opened the lava dungeon, we finally witnessed the true appearance of the Well."

Tristan paused. Pain flashed past his eyes. "The Well of the Ultimate is something humans should not go into, Lancelot. It is not just a rumor. I wanted to go down personally but Maleagant stopped me. He, Harris, and Galehaut jumped in. We waited outside for three days but only Galehaut climbed back out…

"When he came out, he had already been lit by the aether of destruction. Half of his body was already turned to dust. He was like a demon. This entire way back, I kept thinking that he had probably already gone crazy when he was down there.

"He remembered to bring the spear back but could not remember who I was. Sixteen men died to stop him. Holding the spear, he almost killed me." He looked down and pointed at the armor on his chest. "Only an inch away."

Lancelot could vaguely see the messy wound under the horrible crack in the armor. His heart was still beating painfully in the broken chest. It was covered in cracks as if it was wrapped with blood-red thread. It was flesh but somehow looked like metal.

Tristan murmured, "Only an inch and I wouldn't be sitting here anymore. I am only fortunate that he did not waken the dragon soul…"

After a pause, Lancelot asked, "Is he still alive?"

"Until the moment the ship returned to Avalon." Tristan sighed. "He always grasped the spear when he was still alive and wouldn't let anyone touch it. When he arrived, he knew that his mission was about to end and died. Perhaps he could not put down his worries and wanted to go home."

"To…return his soul?" Lancelot studied the 'beast' in the box, his eyes filling with troubled respect. Then he closed it so he would not have to look any more. Closing his eyes, he prayed, "May the Lord have mercy."

-

The midnight bell rang. The watcher of the Westminster Abbey cemetery pushed the door open. He began surveying it as always, walking between the rows of tombstones. But halfway through, he stopped. Under the swaying lantern, cold wind blew from the sea and he felt a bad premonition.

Pat, pat, pat… The dim light illuminated the silent building in the near distance. It was the bell tower where the bodies of heroes were put before being buried. A coffin had been transported there hurriedly last evening to await the grand state funeral. But in the silence, there was a faint knocking sound as if the dead was knocking the door of the underworld. It followed a rhythm that matched the beating of his heart and echoed in his ears.

"Look here…" a voice seemed to murmur. "Look here and listen to this voice…"

The knocking had a strange magnetic pull. The grave keeper looked over in fright. His eyes slowly turned blank. The light in them dimmed.

"Come…come here."

Guided by the voice in his heart, he walked forward blankly. He stepped into the darkness. The door opened slowly, the hinges grating and creaking. Moonlight flowed in as he moved, illuminating the cold statue hanging on the wall. The saint's figure looked down on the world with cold eyes like bolts of lightning.

Under the statue, the room was empty save for the coffin. The knocking sounds came from there. It was as if the body inside the coffin was rapping against the 'door' with his knuckle, waiting for it to open from hell.

"Come! Come here! Open it…find the meaning of your life…"

Under the voice's calling, the grave keeper walked forward dumbly. He pulled out a dagger and started prying at the nails on the coffin. They fell to the ground one by one, with crisp sounds like a demon stretching and cracking his joints. When the last nail fell, a sigh came out of thin air. With blank eyes, the man pushed the coffin, letting out the demon within.

Boom! The lid fell with a muffled thud and shattered on the ground.

The smell of flowers and rot came from the darkness. Under the moonlight, the dead Round Table Knight opened his eyes. He rose slowly, casting a large and menacing shadow on the ground.

It had three heads and hundreds of limbs. It looked like a bird, a beast, a human, hundreds of arms holding axes, white bone, a bottle and a thunderbolt… The fierce shadow disappeared without a trace in an instant. The knight finally walked out of the cage that had imprisoned him for such a long time. He returned from the world of the dead to the world of the living.

In that moment, the birds of Avalon all flew up in shock, cried out, and died. The beast with a human's skin stood under the moonlight. His gaze seemed to pierce into the distance and fall on the sacred city made of metal. It smiled mockingly.

"I…am coming."

-

Far away, the Well of the Ultimate burned like a silver vortex. Under it was bottomless darkness. But in the depths, there was an iron coffin—a broken iron coffin. There were shards of something menacing there as if something had broken out. Around it were three withered bodies. They had been killed in an instant and the corpses knelt on the ground as if praying and repenting for their sins.

May the Lord have mercy…