CHAPTER 190: UNKNOWN

The stink of ash clung to his clothes, so deep it felt like it had seeped into his skin. He ran a hand over his face, dragging away grit and sweat, but it didn’t help. The city smelled like loss, and no washcloth would scrub it clean.

Nathan had fallen asleep again, breath shallow but steady. Merlin didn’t dare move him. Not yet. His eyes followed the line of broken rooftops and scorched streets. Fires still smoldered in pockets, thin gray smoke curling upward, drifting lazily into the sky. The whole district felt like it was holding its breath.

A guard jogged past, helmet tucked under his arm, face streaked with soot. He slowed when he saw Merlin, hesitated, then offered a stiff bow before moving on. Merlin pretended not to notice. His jaw clenched until it hurt.

’Stop bowing. Stop looking at me like I pulled off some miracle. I didn’t. Four hundred and thirty-eight. That’s the number burned into the ground. Don’t thank me for that.’

His system chimed, quiet as a heartbeat.

[Emotional Load: Elevated]

[Recommendation: Mental Stabilization Protocol]

Merlin flicked the notification away with a thought. He didn’t need calming. He needed strength. And the system couldn’t give him that right now.

Across the street, a row of healers worked under the shade of a shattered awning, tending to survivors laid out on bedrolls. Their hands moved fast, precise, but the exhaustion showed in the slump of their shoulders. A woman cried softly as a healer wrapped her burned arm. A child clutched a soldier’s sleeve, eyes red, not saying a word.

Merlin’s chest tightened. He looked away.

"Sir Everhart."

The voice came from his left. He turned and saw a man in battered captain’s armor, chestplate cracked and one gauntlet missing. The captain’s dark eyes studied him carefully, as though picking words before speaking them.

Merlin hated it already.

"What is it?" His voice came out rough, lower than he intended.

The captain hesitated. "The council will want a report. They’ll want to know what happened here... how it was stopped."

Merlin let the words hang in the air. He turned his gaze back toward the ruins. "Tell them the gates are gone. That’s all they need."

The captain shifted, clearly uncomfortable. "And you, sir? You closed them, didn’t you?"

Merlin’s hand tightened on his sword hilt. He wanted to snap, to tell the man to leave him alone, but the weight of the stares prickled the back of his neck. Survivors, guards, healers, too many eyes, too much silent gratitude.

"I was just there," Merlin muttered.

It was the only answer he gave.

The captain seemed like he wanted to press further but thought better of it. With a stiff nod, he retreated. Merlin exhaled slowly, his ribs aching with the effort.

Nathan stirred beside him, a weak groan slipping past his lips. His eyes opened, hazy.

"...you scare them," Nathan muttered, voice hoarse.

Merlin glanced down. "What?"

"You heard me," Nathan said, shifting his weight against the wall with a wince. "The guards. The survivors. You scare them. They don’t know what to do with someone like you. That’s why they bow, why they stare. You’re not... normal anymore."

Merlin’s throat tightened. He looked away. "Normal’s dead with the rest of them."

Nathan gave a small laugh that turned into a cough. He spat blood onto the cobbles, then leaned his head back again. "Still. Better scared than dead. I’ll take it."

Merlin didn’t answer.

The silence stretched until a group of soldiers passed, carrying a body wrapped in cloth. Nathan’s eyes followed them, then slid back toward Merlin. "You’re thinking about the number, aren’t you?"

Merlin stiffened. "...What number."

"The dead," Nathan said plainly. His voice was softer now, like he was picking through his words carefully. "You’re counting. I can see it on your face. You always do."

Merlin’s jaw worked, but no sound came out.

Nathan sighed. "You can’t carry all of them. Not alone."

Merlin finally looked at him. "If I don’t, who will?"

Nathan’s lips pulled into a faint, tired smirk. "That’s the problem. You always think it has to be you."

Merlin didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The truth in Nathan’s words stung too deep.

His system chimed again, insistent this time.

[Stamina Levels Rising – 47%]

[Recommendation: Movement Authorized]

’Good,’ Merlin thought. ’I can’t sit here forever.’

He stood slowly, legs protesting. Nathan’s eyes flicked up at him. "Where are you going?"

"East wall," Merlin said. "Need to see if it’s clear."

Nathan raised a brow. "You just closed four gates. You look like death. And your answer is to go looking for more trouble?"

Merlin’s hand tightened around his sword hilt again. "If I don’t, no one else will."

Nathan groaned. "That’s what I mean. You—" He broke off, pressing a hand to his side as pain spiked.

Merlin crouched briefly, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. "Stay here. Let them patch you up. I’ll come back."

Nathan’s eyes narrowed. "Promise me you’ll actually come back this time."

Merlin met his gaze. For a moment, neither moved. Then, finally, Merlin gave a single nod.

Nathan seemed to accept that, leaning back against the wall again.

Merlin straightened and turned toward the shattered street. His legs felt steadier now, his breath more controlled. The fires still smoldered, the ruins still groaned, but he forced himself forward.

Each step was heavy, but he didn’t stop.

The city wasn’t safe yet.

Not while those gates existed.

Not while people were still dying.

–

By the time he reached the east district, the sun had climbed higher, spilling pale light over the devastation. The air was still thick with smoke, but the chaos had dulled into a strange, eerie quiet.

Merlin’s boots crunched over broken glass and splintered stone. He passed collapsed homes, blackened timbers jutting like broken bones. Here and there, survivors picked through the rubble, searching for anyone still alive. Their eyes tracked him as he passed, but no one spoke.

At the far end of the district, the eastern wall loomed, cracked but standing. No gate pulsed there. No beasts lingered. Just silence and ruin.

Merlin let out a slow breath. ’Clear. For now.’

His system buzzed again.

[Gate Surge Levels: 0%]

[City Status: Stabilizing – Threat Reduced]

It wasn’t enough. He knew better.

"Merlin."

The voice came from behind him. He turned sharply, sword half-raised, but froze when he saw who it was.

Elara.

She stood amid the rubble, hair tied back messily, dust smudged across her cheek. She wore her training gear, not armor, as if she’d run here without thinking. Her eyes locked on him, sharp and unreadable.

"You should be resting," she said flatly.

Merlin lowered his sword. "So should Nathan."

Her lips tightened. She stepped closer, gaze flicking over the dried blood and burns across his body. "You look like hell."

"I’ve felt worse."

"That’s not an answer."

Merlin didn’t reply. He turned back toward the wall, scanning its height, its cracks, its shadows. Elara moved to stand beside him, crossing her arms.

"They’re saying you closed all the gates," she said after a pause.

Merlin’s jaw clenched. "...They’re wrong."

Her brow furrowed. "Then who did?"

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The white-haired man’s absence pressed in the back of his mind like a phantom weight. Gone. Just gone. No trace left behind.

Elara studied him for a long moment. "...You won’t tell me."

Merlin’s silence was answer enough.

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Fine. Keep your secrets. But don’t think you can keep carrying this city by yourself. You’ll break."

"I’ll break when it’s done," Merlin said, voice flat.

Elara’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she looked back toward the ruins, her arms tightening around herself. "The council will summon you soon. They’ll want explanations. Plans."

"They can wait."

Her head snapped toward him. "No, they can’t. You don’t get to shut yourself off like this. Not anymore. People saw what you did. They saw you close those gates. Whether you like it or not, they’re looking at you now."

Merlin’s hand curled into a fist. "I didn’t ask them to."

"That doesn’t matter," Elara said, voice sharp. "Responsibility doesn’t care what you asked for."

Merlin turned his gaze on her, his eyes cold. "And what about you? Where were you when the gates opened?"

The words cut sharper than he intended. Elara flinched, but her expression hardened almost immediately.

"Fighting," she snapped. "Bleeding like the rest of us. Don’t you dare imply I wasn’t."

Merlin stared at her for a moment, then looked away. "Then you know what I mean. We did what we had to. That’s all."

Elara’s lips pressed into a thin line. She studied him for another moment, then finally turned, walking back toward the ruins without another word.

Merlin stood alone before the wall, the silence pressing heavier than before.

His system pinged again.

[Quest Extension Available]

[Next Objective: Unknown]

He ignored it.

For once, he let the quiet linger.

But deep down, he knew it wouldn’t last.