"Very well. You've passed all the tests. You may now take your reward." As Morgan le Fay's clone spoke, she closed the parchment, summoned the golden cube clasped in the skeleton's hands, and gestured for Thea to step forward and take it.
Hm? What was this supposed to mean? At first, Thea thought the reward really was this cube, but she quickly realized something was off. Leaving aside its actual use, the fact that it had been part of a temptation trap already suggested that Morgan didn't truly value it.
Stories about Morgan and Merlin fighting for three days and nights over it, or later joining forces to deduce clues—those were probably all fabrications. Even this skeleton seemed dubious. Thea didn't believe Morgan would carve a Charm spell—such a low-level enchantment—into her own bones. That was just too cheap.
Most importantly, there had only been ninety-eight tests. Anyone who'd read a few more books would know there should be one or two more at the end. Perhaps the cube itself was another test? Taking it now would be downright foolish.
Thea remained where she was, unmoving, and shook her head. "I don't want it."
"You really don't? This contains the truth of the universe!"
"I don't want it."
The blonde clone sighed and put away both the golden cube and the parchment. "Then you've passed the final test as well. Come and take your real reward."
With that, she swiped her hand through space. A pool of deep-blue lake water abruptly appeared inside the dark chamber.
Ripples spread across the surface. This was no so-called mountain spring from the modern world. The water was crystal-clear, brimming with vitality. As the ripples gently rose and fell, one could almost hear waves lapping against a shore and smell a faint, enchanting fragrance.
"This is…?" Thea was finally moved. She didn't expect the blonde Morgan le Fay to explain, because she recognized it instinctively, at the deepest level of her bloodline. This pool was part of Avalon—the elven realm—and the dwelling place of the Lady of the Lake.
Unlike the Avalon she had once summoned, which had merely been a projection from a distant space and hadn't even manifested one percent of its true power, this pool before her was real.
Though it was only the size of several people embracing, clearly just a small fragment of the original land, the magic within seemed to whisper something to her without end.
This truly existed—or rather, Morgan le Fay had cut a fragment from a past timeline and placed it in the present, right before Thea.
Such a miraculous feat clearly wasn't the work of the goofy clone. This was a gift personally left behind by Morgan le Fay herself—King Arthur's sister, who had fought him for a lifetime, yet carried him back to Avalon at the very end of his life.
Anyone familiar with Arthurian legend knew that after the Sword in the Stone broke, Arthur, guided by Merlin, obtained the Sword of the Lake from the Lady of the Lake in Avalon.
That sword was the widely known Sword of Victory and Oaths.
Thea felt her heart beating too fast. She quickly turned to the blonde Morgan le Fay clone, hoping for some guidance.
Her earlier "losses" of gemstones had clearly been valuable. Having benefited from Thea's generosity, the blonde woman scratched her head, nodded emphatically, and made a throwing motion.
Throw something into the water? Then the goddess would appear and ask, "Is this the golden axe you lost?" That story didn't even originate in Britain…
Thea was at a loss.
After she "lost" three more gemstones, the clone quietly offered a hint: "You need to show the Lady of the Lake your confidence and courage." Then she darted off, clearly having reached the limit of what she could reveal.
Confidence and courage? Thea pondered. The water was shallow, so it wasn't testing some superficial bravery like jumping in, nor honesty like the golden-axe-and-silver-axe tale.
That left only one answer: the courage to give up what one cherished, and unwavering resolve.
She tossed a gemstone into the lake. The water immediately spat it back out, like grape skins being discarded. It clearly didn't want that.
She tried again—daggers, longswords, round shields, bracers, helmets, and a pile of modern gear. Everything was rejected except the longswords.
So it wanted swords… With some trepidation, Thea threw all the longswords from her spatial ring into the lake. The water only swelled with a haze of mist, and faint singing—like that of sirens—could be heard. As a woman, she was immune to it, but the message was unmistakable: Continue.
No sacrifice, no reward. Thea drew out a longsword engraved with magic arrays—an eighth-birthday gift she had prepared for Damian. The blade had been forged by Diana, the arrays drawn by Thea herself. With a built-in Sharpness enchantment, it was nearly indestructible.
She tossed it in with a casual whoosh. The lake brimmed with joy—but the Lady of the Lake still did not appear.
Next came several swords once offered as tribute by the Cult of the Cold Flame: blades that enhanced the wielder's charm, blades that turned invisible when held, blades that allowed underwater breathing.
Her heart aching, she threw them in one by one. The lake began to roil; faint vortices formed, yet something crucial was still missing.
Greedy to the extreme! Thea felt her blood pressure rising. Only three swords remained: the false Godkiller she'd obtained from Themyscira—its true name the Ares Must Die Sword—the nameless demon blade forged by demons, and Merlin's sword.
The Godkiller was rarely used now. Logically, it should have been the first sacrifice. But thinking of her bond with Diana, its symbolic meaning now far outweighed its practical value.
The demon sword was also seldom used in battle. What she valued was its absorption ability and exceptional quality. It was a key tool for dealing with Black Adam in the future, to drain his divine power. She absolutely could not give it up.
That left only Merlin's sword—the blade that resonated faintly with her bloodline, carrying that trace of luck she had only just begun to savor.
Was this the true test of courage? The Godkiller represented emotion, the demon sword the future, and Merlin's sword luck. She had to choose one.
After intense inner struggle, Thea reached her conclusion: the strong need emotion, and they need a future—but they do not need luck.
Would Doomsday spare you because you were lucky? If the Earth were pierced through, what use would luck be? Reason told her that abandoning emotion seemed easiest, with minimal cost and maximal gain.
She shook her head. Emotion was essential to her as an individual. Abandoning it was easy—but the price would be immeasurable.
And this emotion wasn't limited to romantic or familial love. Abandon love today, and tomorrow you abandon family, then friendship. In the end, nothing remains. Emotion, as the bond of intelligent life, isn't a shackle—it's the source of strength, the origin of all thought.
If she had once only wanted to survive, then now, emotion was the cornerstone of her struggle, the driving force that pushed her ever upward. Without those she loved, what meaning was there in being invincible?