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In the memory scene, the Raven's words exploded in Ian's mind like thunder. In this dreamlike vision, his heart surged violently as if an ocean within him were being overturned by waves.
This single scene brought Ian a shock far greater than anything he had ever experienced. His pupils shrank abruptly.
His heart felt as though an invisible hand had clenched it tightly; even his breathing turned rapid and uneven. Instinctively, he turned his head toward Merlin, hoping to find an answer in his expression.
Yet Merlin's face remained as calm as still water, as though this memory had nothing to do with him. But Ian could feel it. Merlin's emotions churned beneath the surface like a raging undertow, nearly breaking through his calm facade.
Those emotions spilled outward, as careless and uncontrolled as low-grade wizards' emotional leaks.
Clearly, this scene had shaken Merlin deeply, leaving him unable to conceal his feelings, even from a young wizard.
Perhaps Merlin had already taken a step further along the path, but he was by no means leagues ahead of a legendary-ranked wizard.
The slightest lapse would reveal the flaws of the heart to someone like Ian, a legendary wizard who excels in this very field.
The moment Ian sensed Merlin's emotions, he immediately realized the truth: this was the reason Merlin had tried to brush him off before.
This was the secret Merlin had tried to conceal!
Once he understood that, Ian's throat went dry. He couldn't help but swallow hard. Even though he felt he had already guessed the answer, it was so absurd and fantastical that it bordered on the ridiculous.
"What did the Raven in your memory mean by those words?" Ian finally couldn't hold back. He asked in a careful voice, turning to the still-emotional Merlin beside him.
Merlin's gaze remained fixed on the young Merlin in the memory for a long moment. After a pause, he turned toward Ian and spoke slowly.
"It means exactly what you think it does." His reply was shockingly blunt, and his tone was so unnervingly calm that even Ian sensed an uncanny madness lurking beneath it.
"This is just too..."
Ian could no longer find the words to describe it.
Inside, his emotions churned even more violently, a tangled storm of feelings impossible to name.
If he was right, then the meaning behind the Raven's words and Merlin's acknowledgment was this: there had once been another Merlin in this world.
An older Merlin. This Merlin was truly favored by destiny and was destined to become the King of Wizards, a legendary figure of an era.
But that Merlin, for reasons unknown, had been killed by the Raven. The Merlin who now stood before him was merely a substitute, raised by the Raven as a belated attempt to compensate for the loss.
What kind of outrageous storyline was this?!
Ian didn't know why the Raven had killed the original Merlin. But replacing such a key figure with a stand-in was the kind of move that made you want to shout, "What the hell?!"
Thinking back carefully, Ian recalled the memories he had just witnessed from Merlin's past: the Raven's daily training with Merlin and every word the Raven had spoken during that brutal process. In hindsight, those words felt terrifying.
Yet under the weight of this shocking truth, they suddenly made a kind of twisted sense.
The Raven's harsh training, its nearly impossible demands, and the constant emphasis: "You are Merlin." You must become Merlin! All of it had been because the Raven was pulling off a "swap-the-prince" scheme!
Ian couldn't fathom the storm that would be unleashed among wizards if such a horrifying secret were ever exposed to the rest of the magical world.
Merlin.
That name carried too much legend and glory. To every wizard, he was a myth. Anyone in the wizarding world would relentlessly chase after the secrets and gossip about him.
The entire magical community would be shaken.
"The Raven's move here...this is beyond inhuman. No, even as a bird, this is outrageous beyond belief." Even Ian couldn't stop himself from muttering such a comment.
Yet, if one calmed down and thought it through carefully, perhaps this matter wasn't as unacceptable as it first seemed. It wasn't truly vile.
After all, if the original Merlin had already died, his story would never have begun. How could it be called stolen? The history everyone knew had been created by the previous Merlin.
In that sense, how could one say this Merlin was not Merlin? It was almost a philosophical question, a sort of tongue-twister.
But think carefully: Every legend that people recognized had been created by this Merlin. He was by no means an imposter. His magic and his achievements were his alone.
The world had not been deceived.
The Merlin they knew, the Merlin whose brilliance filled history, was the man standing there.
"This is giving me a headache..."
Ian's thoughts spun as though pulled into a whirlpool of philosophy.
At that moment, Merlin suddenly spoke softly, his voice carrying a trace of weariness and tension.
"This is the question that has haunted me my entire life... Am I, this Merlin, truly worthy of the name?"
His eyes locked firmly on Ian before him as if he no longer saw Ian, but rather the Raven of his youth, the only being who could give him an answer.
Ian froze.
Then, his gaze met Merlin's. For a moment, he seemed to see the deep unease and self-doubt buried in his heart.
Even while maintaining the guise of Lirim, he could feel that Merlin had slipped back to that lost, uncertain age. The question wasn't really for Ian; it was for the harsh Raven.
Realizing this, Ian fell silent for a long while.
Ian sifted through every story he knew about Merlin. He thought of the legendary tales of Merlin and King Arthur and the man's contributions to the magical world.
Flashes of memory crossed his mind.
At last, Ian drew in a deep breath and said earnestly,
"I don't know what the original Merlin was meant to be. But, from where I stand, the Merlin written into history, the Merlin I know as the King of Wizards, matches perfectly with the image I've always had in my heart."
Ian chose not to lie.
Instead, he gave a truthful answer.
After all, Ian knew that what Merlin needed at that moment was not comfort but a real answer. This was his most genuine thought about this earth-shattering secret.
"Is that so?"
Merlin's golden eyes wavered slightly, as though a thin mist had been lifted. The knot of hesitation and unease hidden deep within him was scattered by a ray of sunlight in that instant.
A look of unprecedented relief spread across his face in the next moment, as though a burden he had carried for countless years had finally been lifted by Ian's words.
"That's... good enough."
Merlin smiled, a smile of release.
There was liberation in that expression, as if the weight pressing down on him had finally slipped from his shoulders. Perhaps only hearing such words from Ian could bring him true peace.
After all, his opinion mattered more than anyone else's because he was the one who had planted this obsession in his heart.
"To be honest, you are who you are. Why torture yourself with so much overthinking?" Ian knew how much his words meant to Merlin, so he offered a wave of encouragement.
"Because I once fell before a setback. So, nearly every day, I can't help but wonder: If it had been the other Merlin, the 'true' Merlin who should have existed in this world's legend, would he have achieved all the things I couldn't? Would he have avoided living as miserably as I have, clinging on the way I do?"
Merlin's voice was thick with a complicated sigh.
Now that the knot had loosened, he naturally began to reveal the pains and doubts he had never confessed to anyone.
(To Be Continued…)