The Ever-Distant Utopia—the scabbard even more powerful than the holy sword itself—could protect its wielder from all forms of attack, grant immunity to the passage of time, and nullify magical assaults. One could even say that the scabbard itself embodied the very concept of magic.
This was a supreme rule of the world. As the current bearer of the Sword of Victory and Oaths, guided by a faint, ineffable sensation, Thea could vaguely hear the scabbard's call—but the distance lay far beyond her comprehension.
It was not on Earth, not among the stars, not in any plane dependent on the material world, and not even upon the timeline itself.
Thea shook her head and drew her thoughts back. She could not yet fully wield the sword's power; yearning for the scabbard now was far too unrealistic.
"Big Sister Morgan… what's this?" While Thea was still contemplating her future path, she saw the blonde woman struggling to drag three stone slabs out of the void.
"This is the reward the main body left for the one who passed the trial," the blonde said, wiping sweat from a forehead that didn't actually perspire, her explanation vague.
Thea froze slightly and glanced at the sword in her hand. "Then what was that just now?"
"That was the Lady of the Lake's test. You didn't seriously think the main body would reward you with a warrior's weapon, did you? We're mages—of course the reward is mage-related!" The blonde replied, wearing an unmistakable you're-actually-this-dumb expression.
Thea had no interest in arguing about warriors versus mages. The meaning of the holy sword far transcended such mundane classifications.
This clone looked mature and elegant—very much the aloof older-sister type—but in reality her mental maturity wasn't even on par with Damian's. Going along with her was always safer; that was the only lesson Thea had truly learned from dealing with unruly kids over the past two years.
The dark-gray stone slabs were extremely heavy. Two emitted a faint white glow, while the third was wreathed in a thin black aura. Thea gently placed her hand on one of the glowing white slabs.
Its surface was perfectly smooth, but when she extended her mental power inside, she discovered an immense reservoir of knowledge contained within.
Morgan le Fay had likely foreseen the problem of language barriers across generations. Just as Thea had read the minds of the natives outside, Morgan bypassed spoken and written language altogether, imprinting her spells and insights directly into the slabs via mental transmission.
"Huh?" Even Thea, normally composed, couldn't help but let out a quiet exclamation upon closer inspection. This mage, famed for black magic and necromancy, had left behind an enormous body of medical spells. Much of the knowledge aligned closely with modern medicine, though fully absorbing it would take an immense amount of time.
Both white-glowing slabs contained medical knowledge, while the final black slab recorded necromancy and dark magic. These teachings were far more valuable than Sargon's memories, fundamentally compensating for Thea's lack of deep theoretical grounding—exactly what she needed most at this stage.
"Big Sister Morgan, just how far did your main body ultimately go? Can sheer accumulation of magical power really lead to the pinnacle?"
To be honest, Thea was uncertain about her future path. She couldn't compare herself to monsters like Superman. In this era of fading Old Gods and emerging New Gods, she wanted to climb higher—but had no one to consult, groping forward like a blind person touching an elephant.
Earth held no answers, and she certainly couldn't swagger over to Apokolips and knock on Darkseid's door to ask, "Hey, blue fatty, how do I become the God of Magic?"
Darkseid would annihilate her instantly. She had once believed that acquiring the divine power of Black Adam and Shazam would naturally lead to godhood—but her brief encounter with the Lady of the Lake shattered that naïveté.
Power was necessary, yes—but realm and state of being were just as crucial. Compared to true deities, she was still missing something. That realization was the real reason she posed the question to Morgan's clone.
For once, the blonde Morgan grew serious, examining Thea with a probing gaze.
"The main body has definitely left this world far behind. As for you…"
"You haven't mastered your true power yet."
She stroked her chin and pointed at the unicorn tattoo on Thea's shoulder. "This thing grants you power—but it also limits how far you can go. Only by becoming one with it again can you truly reach the heights."
"Become one with the tattoo again? I don't quite understand," Thea said, caught off guard.
"You call it a tattoo? Fine. That 'tattoo' is a reflection of your heart—light and darkness, hero and criminal. That was the choice fate gave you."
"But you defied fate and walked a completely new road. Your multiple possible futures condensed into this symbol. It represents what you could have become. To move forward, you must fully embrace everything—justice, evil, reason, passion."
The clone's explanation was halting, clearly earnest but limited by her ability to articulate the concept.
Still, Thea understood. It was her original fate—one she believed she had long cast aside. Yet the power of her bloodline had dragged remnants of it back.
Did she truly need to merge with the light and darkness within the unicorn tattoo? The act itself would be simple—but if her personality changed afterward, would she still be herself?
"Is there a way to merge while keeping my current personality intact?"
This genuinely stumped the clone. She frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe if you elevate your mental power to an extreme level, you could peel away some of the negative effects?"
Mental power. Thea was well acquainted with it—from martial perception in her early days to the refined mental strength she wielded now. Thanks to her transmigrator fusion, this had always been one of her strongest attributes.
Yet mental power barely improved through routine training. It required special environments, special locations—dedicated cultivation.
"Alright, I've told you everything I know! I'm going to sleep. Come play with me again sometime!" Big Sister Morgan waved hurriedly.
Thea's vision blurred—and she found herself standing outside the temple.
The moon hung high overhead, its gentle light spilling across the ground. Estimating the time, she had arrived near dusk. She hadn't spent long searching the ruins; most of the time had been consumed by Morgan's ninety-nine questions.
The instant she stepped outside, her bond with the Sword of Victory and Oaths tightened dramatically. Unlike the bloodline resonance of Merlin's sword, this connection conveyed responsibility and burden. The relationship between sword and bearer felt less like ownership—and more like comrades-in-arms.
The holy sword hummed softly. Understanding its intent, Thea murmured the inscription along the blade. The sword dissolved into a mass of intangible energy and flowed into her arm.
Checking her communicator, she confirmed the time—three full days had passed within the temple.
She didn't leave right away. Instead, Thea found a large tree, reclined against its trunk, gazed up at the moon, and began to contemplate the road ahead.