Balthazar's steps came to a halt the moment he saw the woman standing before him. He knew it was only an illusion, yet he couldn't bring himself to look away.
For over a millennium, aside from seeking Merlin's true inheritor, one obsession had consumed him: the desperate wish to save his love.
Veronica Gorloisen.
She, Horvath, and Balthazar had once stood side by side as Merlin's apprentices. Both he and Horvath had feelings for her, but her heart belonged to Balthazar alone. That truth, however, became the seed of Horvath's betrayal, driving him into Morgana's arms.
When Morgana had struck, it was Veronica who stepped between them. She bore the curse meant for Balthazar, sealing the dark witch inside her own body. And though he could have ended it there, Balthazar could not bring himself to kill the woman he loved. Instead, he bound her within a prison of spells, knowing all too well that one day Morgana would consume her completely.
"No, I can't stop!" Balthazar roared, his own voice echoing back at him. He could not afford hesitation. With one last, aching glance at the fading illusion before him, he swept his hand through the air. A sharp crack rang out, like glass shattering, and the vision dissolved into fragments, vanishing in a storm of light.
He found himself standing in a dimly lit study room. Balthazar moved cautiously, eyes sweeping the shadows, until something on the table caught his attention.
A map.
He leaned closer, brow furrowing. Strange symbols wound across its surface, twisting like veins. "These patterns…" he muttered under his breath. His expression hardened, and without a moment's hesitation, he folded the map and slid it into his pocket.
Then came the sinking.
A sickening pull yanked at his boots, the carpet beneath him shifting like quicksand. His stomach dropped.
"Horvath," Balthazar hissed, realisation dawning. "He set this trap for me."
Already sinking past his knees, he searched desperately for something, anything, to grasp. There was nothing within reach. No rope. No staff. No escape.
He raised a hand sharply, sparks bursting from his fingertips. The wooden chair in the corner groaned, its legs stretching and twisting until it became a coil of rope. With another flick, a second chair burst apart in a spray of feathers and re-formed as a great black bird.
"Quickly!" he commanded.
The bird seized the rope, wings beating against the stale air, and carried one end to Balthazar's grasp. He caught it just as the quicksand swallowed him to the waist.
"Now, pull!"
His eyes darted to the almirah looming against the far wall. Perfect. With a decisive sweep of his arm, the heavy wood warped and swelled, reshaping into the hulking form of a grizzly bear.
The creature let out a thunderous roar that rattled the room.
It seized the rope in its massive jaws and heaved, muscles bunching under its thick fur as it began to drag Balthazar from the deadly carpet's grip.
Clutching the rope, his breath ragged, Balthazar whispered under his breath, "Dave, Draco, I hope you'll be safe."
---
"Huff… huff… s-sorry… huff… I wasn't much help in there," Dave panted, leaning forward as they finally burst out of the hall filled with statues. His chest burned, and shame pricked at him. It didn't feel good having to rely on someone younger, only to end up being dead weight.
"It's fine," Draco waved him off. On the surface, he acted like it wasn't a big deal, but inside he wasn't pleased. Dave had been practically useless. Still, he couldn't just abandon him, not when his own plans depended on Dave.
Taking a steadying breath, Draco added, "If you feel bad about it, then after this is all over, you can give me a few spells to learn."
"That doesn't sound like a problem," Dave nodded quickly, clearly not minding. If anything, he didn't want Draco to think he was ungrateful.
"Good. Then it's a deal." Draco's lips curled into a faint smile. He was already eager to get his hands on Balthazar's spellbook. Even if some of the more dangerous spells had been removed, there should still be plenty he could make use of.
"Draco, look!" Dave's sudden shout snapped him out of his thoughts. Following the boy's pointing finger, Draco's eyes locked onto a Matryoshka doll. Its design matched Balthazar's description of the Grimhold, the prison that held Morgana.
The two of them advanced cautiously. Draco's gut twisted; this was too easy. It was bait. Horvath was definitely here, but why couldn't he sense him?
"Should I grab it?" Dave asked, his voice low but tense. Even he could tell a trap was waiting.
Draco studied the doll for a moment, then flicked his wand.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
The doll floated into the air and glided into Dave's hands. For a brief instant, everything was still.
Then Draco's instincts screamed. His body tensed a split second too late. He spun, wand half-raised, but the shield charm never left his lips before the spell struck him square in the chest.
The impact hurled him across the room. He slammed into a table with a violent crash, the breath ripped from his lungs as splinters rained around him.
"Draco!" Dave shouted, rushing forward, only to freeze at the sound of another voice.
"Dave."
Slowly, he turned.
Horvath stood there, smiling like a predator who had already won. And beside him, bound and terrified, was Becky.
"Becky…" Dave's voice faltered, panic flashing across his face. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected her.
"Now, now, Dave," Horvath drawled, his tone mocking, a cruel glint dancing in his eyes. "You wouldn't want anything unfortunate to happen to her, would you?"
"You…" Rage surged in Dave, but he forced himself to steady his voice. Losing control now would only make things worse. He pleaded, desperate yet restrained.
"Leave her. She has nothing to do with this."
Horvath chuckled darkly. "And neither did you, yet here we are. So why don't you hand over the ring and the Grimhold?" His staff lowered until its tip pressed against Becky's neck. "Otherwise…" He let the threat hang, his smirk widening. "You won't be seeing her again."
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Manhwa with magic