The moment the message left the stone, Dagon felt it.
His ancient eyes, older than most stars, narrowed as the ripple of communication passed through dimensions. Someone had called for help. Someone was coming.
He looked at Morgana, still standing despite the divine spear through her chest, still fighting despite wounds that should have killed her a dozen times over.
"You've summoned reinforcements," Dagon said. Not a question. "Foolish. No one can help you. No one can stop what I am."
Morgana's response was another spell—a lance of pure void that she'd found in the deepest pages of Merlin's book. It struck Dagon's chest and actually made him stagger.
For a moment.
Then he caught the void between his palms and crushed it.
"Impressive," he admitted. "You've learned much from the boy who gave you that book. But learning and mastering are different things."
He advanced.
