I looked at Mephisto sitting there on my throne, I could easily guess what he was trying to do... But it was pointless.
"Mordred is my heir, and that power, it isn't something you can steal, something you can copy, it is the weight of her legend, a legend you can never hope to understand. She might be my counter, but that is also the proof of her loyalty, of her bond with me," I stated, my words firm as steel.
This was my ultimate weapon, the fact that I could turn my greatest enemy into my greatest ally, to turn a weapon aimed at me into my sword arm.
It was something Mephisto could never hope to understand, a power beyond contracts, a power beyond deals.
"Then you are a fool," Mephisto said with a cruel laugh, "So many people think that love and loyalty are the greatest powers in the universe. They are not. They are weaknesses. They are chains that bind you, that make you predictable. That make you vulnerable."
He pointed at Bedivere and Lucan. "Look at them. They would die for you without a second thought. And for what? For a king who is no longer a king, for a kingdom that is no more. Their loyalty is a sickness, a delusion. And I am the cure."
With that, the illusion of Camelot began to fade. The marble floors cracked and crumbled, revealing the scorched, barren rock beneath. The white walls bled a tar-like blackness, the silken banners turned to shredded rags hanging from skeletal fixtures.
I couldn't help but shake my head at his tactics; he was good at that. But it was no surprise. He was, after all, someone who was best at bewitching mortals to sell their souls, to get them to agree to that, required more than being able to offer something they needed.
To claim a soul, there were two ways.
To wait for the person's death, or cause their death.
Or, to make them willingly give it up, that was the most sure-fire way to get it.
And to make people willingly sell their souls, he had to have his pitch down, and some illusions, putting on a show, that is the best way.
Even I made sure to pay attention to such things, meeting important guests in my throne room, flanked by my Knights.
But when it came to putting on a show, I was clearly far inferior to Mephisto.
"Blasphemy!" Bedivere exclaimed angrily, his entire body shaking at the insult to his King and Kingdom.
"Enough of this," I finally said, having heard enough. It was clear that Mephisto wasn't dumb enough to give away any real information; he might be gloating, but he wasn't spelling out his entire plan.
A shame, but hardly a surprise.
After all, the villain only did that after he was sure he had already won, and despite his arrogance, Mephisto knew the match wasn't over yet.
I let Caliburn return to my soul. It was a fine sword, but it wasn't what I wanted for now.
It was a weapon of a King, or maybe an heir, a knight, and a hero.
But no knight, no hero could defeat a demon lord like Mephisto.
"Demon!" I shouted and called forth my lance.
A brilliant light shone in my hand, illuminating the chamber, chasing away every dark shadow. It wasn't a simple lance; it was the tower of the end, the pillar that held the world together, the connection between this world and its reverse side.
The lance that holds the power that ends the world.
Rhongomyniad.
The very power of the Divine, a power that can be wielded by me alone. After ascending, I was the one and only wielder of this Holy Lance.
"Oho, so the little King finally decides to show off her big stick," Mephisto taunted, a smirk on his face as he looked at the Holy Lance. "I have to say, I am impressed. I had heard the stories, of course, but to see it up close... it's a work of art."
The Lance of the End of the World was a beautiful weapon, one that radiated divine might. Yet, despite being the demon of the same realm, he was not like D'Spayre, he was not a being that was weak against the divine. Not inherently.
But at the same time, he was also not like Satannish, a being of pure brute force, he was cunning, a being who relied on deals.
And no matter what he said, no matter what he thought, I was not a mortal.
And I would make no deals with him.
"You two, stay near me," I told my knights as I slashed Rhongomyniad through the air, a casual movement, far from a real attack, but still, brilliant light followed the movement, cutting through the darkness and evil of hell, sending a wave of magic and divine might towards Mephisto.
He didn't even raise a shield; he just stood there, a smirk still on his face as the wave of energy washed over him. Even for a casual slash, the power behind it was anything but simple.
His form was instantly torn apart, shredded, and burned away by the holy might of Rhongomyniad. Yet, he didn't fall, he didn't die. He reformed instantly, not from the smoke and fire, but from the shadows, the very evil in this realm.
"Is that all you've got?" he taunted, a cruel laugh echoing through the chamber. "I told you, you can't kill me. Not here. Not in my domain. I am the king of this castle, and in my castle, I make the rules."
I knew that, of course, I had been prepared for it, but I still had to try. Still, I had expected him to at least put up some kind of fight, to block, or something. To just stand there and tank it, that was unexpected.
"You might think you are the king here, but your house is made of straw," I said with a smirk, "And I have a torch."
With that, I raised Rhongomyniad once more, this time for a true attack, not a simple test like before. The very ground began to shake, the walls of the chamber cracking and crumbling, and the air around me seemed to shimmer with power.
"This is the end, Mephisto," I said, my voice a low growl, the power of the lance building to a crescendo.
"Is it?" he asked, no worry on his face, as the throne room shattered around us, and revealed the truth of his realm, the endless fields of fire, the rivers of lava, the screams of the damned. "Or is it just the beginning?"
For the first time, I saw Mephisto's true form, not a handsome man in a suit, but a being of pure, unadulterated evil. A towering giant of black fire, with eyes that burned with the malice of a thousand damned souls.
He raised a hand, and a wave of pure evil washed over us, a tidal wave of malice that sought to corrupt, to destroy, to consume.
But I was ready. I was the King of Knights, the Goddess of Rhongomyniad, and I would not be defeated by a mere demon.
I raised Rhongomyniad, and with a roar, I unleashed the twelve restrictions on it.
Just like with Excalibur, the full power of my weapons was world-shattering, and so, once upon a time, I had placed twelve seals on them, only to be opened when I met the conditions.
The battle must be a one-on-one.
The enemy must be stronger than the user.
The battle must not be against an innocent.
The battle must be for truth.
The battle must be for justice.
The battle must not be for personal gain.
The battle must be to protect humanity.
The enemy must not be human.
The battle must not violate honor.
The enemy must not be weakened unfairly beforehand.
The battle must not be for destruction alone.
The battle must be one where victory is necessary.
Those were the Restraints of the Round Table.
Each of the twelve seats has a seal that they represent, and each knight must agree that the conditions to unseal the might are met.
They were made of noble intent to ensure that even I would never fall, and should I fall, I wouldn't have the power to threaten the world.
But in truth, they were little more than a trick, because it was I who set those restraints; each seal was made by me.
And as such, I could remove them.
And as I did that, the power of Rhongomyniad was fully revealed, the power to save or destroy the world. The power of the Goddess.
Mephisto's eyes widened, a look of genuine fear on his face for the first time.
He had been arrogant, confident, but now, he was facing a power that was beyond his comprehension, a power that could not be bargained with, a power that could not be reasoned with.
The very fabric of his realm began to tear apart, the rivers of lava boiling over, the ground cracking and crumbling, the screams of the damned growing louder, a chorus of agony and despair.
He had been a king in this realm, the lord of hell, but now, he was nothing, a mere mortal facing a goddess.
And for the first time in his long, long life, he truly understood what it meant to be powerless.
"This... this is impossible!" he roared, a sound of pure, unadulterated terror.
"Nothing is impossible, Mephisto," I said, my voice a cold, clear note in the chaos, a final judgment. "For a goddess, nothing is impossible."
And with that, I unleashed the full power of Rhongomyniad.
The world turned white.
(End of chapter)
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