CHAPTER 187: HELPFUL

The thing’s grip tightened, bone creaking against bone. Merlin’s boots scraped uselessly at the cobblestone.

Then the air... slowed.

Not cooled, not thickened, slowed.

The monster’s claws froze mid-squeeze, the rumble in its throat cutting off halfway like someone had pressed pause on the world. The red glow in its fissures dulled, frozen mid-flicker. Even the loose grit in the air hung suspended, shards of stone caught in impossible stillness.

A pair of heels clicked softly against the cobblestone. Deliberate, unhurried.

Merlin tilted his head just enough to see her.

Morgana.

The Headmistress didn’t rush. She didn’t even look at him first, her eyes were fixed on the monster, the faintest curl of amusement at her lips. The moonlight caught in the black satin of her dress, each step making it sway like liquid.

"Well," she murmured, her voice a velvet drawl, "you’ve certainly found yourself a playmate."

’Playmate? It’s a twelve-star death machine.’

Her gaze flicked to him, slow and assessing, like she was deciding whether to scold him or pat him on the head.

"You’re bleeding," she said, tilting her chin toward the smear on his ribs.

"Noticed," Merlin grunted.

The monster twitched, its upper arm shifted half an inch. Time was slipping.

Morgana’s expression sharpened. "You’re going to let go of my student now."

Her hand rose lazily, palm open. The air rippled, and for a moment Merlin felt the pressure of a thousand clocks ticking in perfect sync behind his ears.

The claws around him unraveled, not by force but inevitability. His body dropped to the cobblestone as though gravity had remembered him again.

He sucked in a breath, rolling to his feet and snatching up his sword. "You could’ve come sooner."

Her smile widened just enough to be dangerous. "And miss watching you struggle? Where’s the fun in that?"

The monster roared, or it should have. The sound stretched like taffy, pulled thin until it was a warbling echo of itself.

"Stay back," Morgana said lightly, already stepping forward. "You’re not ready for this one."

’Like hell I’m—’

A glance from her cut that thought in half. Not pleading. Commanding.

The glow in the monster’s fissures flared again, fighting against the slowed world. Morgana lifted her other hand, fingers poised like she was plucking invisible strings. The glow stuttered... then reversed, the cracks knitting shut in a grotesque rewind.

Merlin’s system pinged frantically.

[Entity Status: Temporal Regression – Forced]

[Damage Reversal: 100%]

[Combat Viability: Null]

The creature shrieked in a pitch that wasn’t meant for human ears, folding in on itself until it was nothing more than a smear of shadow, pulled back into the collapsing gate like it had never been.

Silence fell.

Morgana lowered her hands and smoothed a wrinkle in her dress, as if she’d just tidied up a classroom rather than erased a twelve-star threat.

"You’re welcome," she said.

Merlin exhaled slowly, wiping blood from his mouth. "I had it under control."

Her laugh was quiet and disbelieving. "Of course you did, dear."

—

Morgana let her gaze linger on him, that mix of playfulness and razor-edge authority still in her eyes.

Merlin tightened his grip on his sword, but the adrenaline was already ebbing, leaving the ache in his arms and the throb in his ribs more noticeable.

"Why are there so many gates popping up now?" Merlin asked, his voice sharper than he intended. "There weren’t nearly this many before I..." He stopped himself.

Her expression didn’t change, but he could feel her studying him.

Before I what? Before I got dragged into the Labyrinth and came back with someone else’s nightmares in my head?

Morgana’s lips curved into something between a smirk and a sigh. "Because something’s pushing from the other side." She stepped toward him, heels clicking lightly against the cobblestone. "And something here is letting them."

’That’s vague as hell.’

"I’m serious," Merlin pressed. "This isn’t just random. There are gates opening in places they never used to, and not small ones either. What the hell’s going on?"

She tilted her head, letting her dark hair spill across one shoulder. "You think I’d hand you that answer on the street, bleeding and winded?"

’So that’s a no.’

"I think," she continued, "that whatever you’ve been doing since you got back has put you closer to the center of this mess than you realize. And it’s only going to get worse."

He swallowed, eyes flicking to where the gate had collapsed. "Worse how?"

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. "You’ll see soon enough."

’That’s exactly the kind of cryptic crap I don’t need right now.’

The wind shifted, tugging at the hem of her dress. She looked almost bored, but Merlin had been around her enough to know better, every word, every pause, was measured.

"Was awhite-haired guy involved?" Merlin asked, voice low.

For a fraction of a second, her expression froze. Then it was gone. "You ask interesting questions."

’So she knows. She just won’t say.’

Before he could press, she brushed past him, her perfume faint and distracting in the cold air. "Go home, Merlin. Rest. Whatever’s coming, you’ll need more than a sword and stubbornness."

"I’ve got more than that," he muttered.

Her laugh was soft but carried in the quiet street. "We’ll see."

—

He walked beside her for a block before they split ways, Morgana disappearing into the shadows like she was part of them. He doubted anyone else in the city would even notice she’d been there.

By the time he reached the apartment, the fight’s fatigue was fully setting in. Nathan was probably still out cold, and the white-haired man... gone, as usual.

’Convenient bastard.’

—

The next morning, Merlin was up early. He dragged Nathan out to the training grounds behind the academy, the same cracked stone floor they’d sparred on before.

Nathan groaned as he stretched. "You sure you’re up for this? You were bleeding yesterday."

"I’ve been worse," Merlin said flatly, tossing him a wooden practice sword.

They squared off. Nathan came in fast, faster than he used to be, Merlin could tell the last few months had hardened him. But it didn’t matter. Every strike, every feint, Merlin saw coming before Nathan even committed to it.

’Too slow.’

Nathan swung low, trying to catch him in the side. Merlin stepped in, parried, and had the tip of his sword at Nathan’s throat before the other boy even registered the move.

"Point," Merlin said.

"That’s—" Nathan’s chest rose and fell. "That’s the fifth one."

Merlin didn’t bother denying it. They reset. Same result. And again. And again.

By the time Nathan called for a break, sweat was running down his temples, and his grip on the sword was starting to slip.

"You’re on another level now," Nathan admitted, wiping his forehead.

’Yeah. And I’m not even using half of what Rathan dumped in my head.’

Merlin forced a shrug. "Guess I’ve been practicing more."

Nathan gave him a skeptical look but didn’t push.

—

Far away from the training grounds, on some rooftop or shadowed street, Merlin had the feeling someone else was watching. Not Morgana, she didn’t hide it when she wanted to observe him.

This was quieter. The kind of quiet that didn’t leave footprints.

’White-haired guy... what’s your game?’

Merlin didn’t have an answer.

But he had a feeling he’d be finding out sooner than he wanted.

—

By the time the sun dipped behind the city’s jagged skyline, the streets had taken on that uneasy stillness he’d learned to distrust. Lanterns lit in neat rows, shopkeepers pulling down shutters, people rushing home with their heads ducked like the darkness might bite them.

It wasn’t just fear of crime.

They could feel it too.

Gates had been opening more frequently all week, stray flickers at the edges of alleys, cracks in the air that hummed like a swarm of bees. Most were small enough to be handled by the city guard or a few competent adventurers.

But tonight felt different.

’The air’s... heavy.’

Even Nathan noticed. He glanced up at the orange-red clouds gathering unnaturally fast overhead. "You think another one’s coming?"

Merlin’s eyes tracked a faint shimmer far down the street, one that flickered in and out like a candle behind glass. His system pulsed faint blue in the corner of his vision.

[Spatial Instability: Widespread]

[Gate Formation Probability – 87%]

[Estimated Openings: Multiple]

’Multiple? As in... more than one at the same time?’

His jaw tightened. "Yeah. And not just one."

—

They didn’t have to wait long.

It started with a sound, low, grinding, like stone shearing against stone. Then another. And another. All in different directions.

People froze in the street, heads jerking toward the noise.

The first gate ripped open two blocks north, a vertical tear in reality, edges glowing sickly green. Another flared to the east, its jagged rim spitting out bursts of black fire. By the time the third appeared behind them, the screaming had started.

Nathan cursed under his breath. "Three at once?!"

"Four." Merlin pointed at the rooftop ahead, where the air was bending into a whirlpool of purple light.

[Gate Count: 4]

[Gate Types: Mixed Class]

[Immediate Threat Level: Severe]

’Severe? That’s the system being polite.’

He could already see shapes moving behind the green-rimmed one. Too big to be scouts.

"Nathan," Merlin said, tightening his grip on his sword. "We split. You take east and make sure nothing gets past you. I’ll handle north."

"What about the other two?"

"Someone else will have to step in." He didn’t sound convinced.

—

They moved fast. Nathan sprinted toward the east gate, shoving through panicked civilians. Merlin cut north, boots hammering against the stone road.

By the time he reached the plaza, the green-rimmed gate was already vomiting out its first wave, hulking, six-limbed beasts with carapaces glistening under the sickly light. Their eyes burned white, unblinking, fixed on the nearest living thing.

The city guard was already in disarray, pikes snapping uselessly against chitin.