Harry Potter: Glory Bows to Me

They came to the final place of truth.

There was silence in front of the figure standing in front of them.

On the ground, the broken holy sword was deeply embedded in the charred soil, with traces of dried blood still remaining on the broken blade.

King Arthur half-knelt before his sword, his armor cracked, his cloak scorched black, his golden hair stained with blood, and his right hand tightly grasped the broken sword in the stone. His face was pale and handsome, his expression calm and tired.

This is what he looked like in his last moments.

He was still wrapped in the golden-red ribbon and the emblem of the Knights Templar, but the mottled rust and bloodstains had long since shown that it was no longer a place of glory.

The wind blew across the wilderness, lifting the dust between the cloak and the earth.

"...King Arthur," Hermione murmured.

Harry took a step forward and whispered, "That's... King Arthur?"

"Yes. My father."

A low, slightly youthful and unusually steady voice sounded, and everyone was stunned.

"You are here."

Standing in front of the corpse was a young man in a tattered black robe.

He lowered his eyelids, his long golden hair was blown by the wind, and on the corner of his robe was embroidered a pitch-black dragon emblem, but it had faded to the point of being blurred.

He raised his finger slightly, and a blood-stained sword slowly emerged from the void, the blade flashing with a cold silver light. It was the weapon that pierced King Arthur's chest.

"I am Mordred." He spoke his name word by word, his eyes sweeping over them indifferently.

"King Arthur's illegitimate son. And the one who killed him."

Luna blinked: "But you don't look... like a bad person."

Mordred smiled faintly: "The most evil person in the world may have once been an innocent child."

He turned around and stood up straight. His eyes swept over the seven people and finally fell on Amanta.

"Merlin's blood... I smell it. You smell just like him."

Harry drew his wand. "How did you know? Were you waiting for us?"

"This is not my will. It is the relics left by Merlin that await you."

“It requires future generations of witnesses to revisit past decisions.”

"Choice?" Neville frowned.

"Do you know what decisions King Arthur, whom you all call noble, brave, just, and wise, made in his final years?" He chuckled. "How he treated his allies, his followers, non-human races, wizards, and even his own... son."

He raised his head and looked towards the tall tower.

Atop the tower, a blurry figure stood in the wind, clad in a gray robe and holding a staff, his long silver hair dancing in the wind. He gazed down at everything from above, but remained silent.

"Merlin taught me magic," Mordred continued, "he taught me spells, alchemy, summoning, and how to remain calm and patient. The king never gave me a real name. Throughout the kingdom, I am the son of Morgan, not the king's son."

Julius narrowed his eyes. "You said Merlin taught you, but why did he just stand there and not take action?"

"Because he's a coward." Mordred chuckled softly, his smile cold. "He is both the greatest magician in this kingdom and the most unsuccessful watchman."

"He could not bear to kill King Arthur, nor did he dare to prevent his fall."

On the tower, Merlin stood like a ghost, never uttering a word.

Looking from a distance, the wind carried the remaining ashes from the battlefield and hit his cloak. There was no light in his eyes, only gloom and fatigue.

Mordred gritted his teeth.

"Since I was a child, I've heard my father and the knights discussing plans to expand the territory and purge the magical race in a secret chamber. Behind the stone wall, I heard every word clearly. He began to accept non-human races as combat forces, but forbade them to remain within the city-state. He allied with wizards, but behind the scenes, he plotted to erase all history of magic... He wanted to establish a pure, human kingdom."

"Then why didn't he kill you?" Neville couldn't help asking.

"Because he still needs Merlin," Mordred whispered, "and Merlin still sees me as a possible next generation of magic king."

"They fought each other, but neither of them would admit defeat. I am the pathetic product of surviving in the cracks."

Hermione whispered, "But there's no mention of you in the historical records."

"Of course not." Mordred's smile grew even colder. "I am the one who was erased from history books, a stain that the orthodox do not wish to mention."

He waved his hand violently, and the blood mist from the battlefield behind him suddenly swept up. The scene changed as light and shadow distorted.

They seemed to be in the corridor of an ancient royal city.

Young Mordred, cloaked in his cape, sat alone in his cold stone study. A faint fire burned in the corner, and he, a child, wrapped his wand in his hands, diligently practiced the most basic illumination spell.

"He never acknowledged me as his son."

"I am the son of Morgan Le Fay, the son of his half-sister, a witch. I once fought alongside him, but was expelled from the royal court because of our different ideologies."

Amanta frowned.

Morgan le Fay, the witch whose name is deliberately left vague in history books, is still feared by later generations for her powerful strength.

Luna murmured, "Morgan Le Fay...a witch who is said to be almost on par with Merlin."

"My mother died the day I was born. Perhaps she was too powerful, and the entire court was whispering about whether her death was some kind of political arrangement. Since that day, I have been imprisoned in this castle, cared for by Merlin."

The scene changed, and young Mordred saw through the half-open door that his father, King Arthur, was arguing with several knights and ministers about whether to allow goblins and giants to enter the royal city to serve.

Arthur was silent for a long time, and finally shook his head.

"He had hoped to build a unified, multiracial coalition."

“That was his ideal.”

"But he soon realized that it was impossible."

Light and shadow shift. In the picture, King Arthur commands the battlefield while quietly meeting with some human knights behind the scenes.

He allowed them to eliminate several Centaur Knights in order to eliminate the threat posed by the non-human faction.

"he's changed."

"He became suspicious, skeptical, and hardline. He began to undermine the knights' independent power and deliberately led them to fight among themselves."

Harry gritted his teeth: "This..."

Amanta remained silent.

Luna seemed to be thinking deeply. "He is afraid. The price of power is loneliness."

Mordred did not deny it and continued to tell the story.

"Later, he secretly drafted a kingdom bill to exclude all non-humans and wizards from government affairs and the succession to the throne."

"He wants to erase the existence of magic and bury all mysteries completely."

"Merlin opposed him. They broke out into an argument."

The light and shadow changed again.

Merlin stood before the throne, his expression painful and complicated.

He couldn't bear to attack the old king who had accompanied him in battle for many years, but he couldn't stop him from going astray.

Mordred chuckled softly, "He's gone. He chose not to betray the King, but he also chose not to stay in our world."

"So I stepped up."

"The day I led all the exiled wizards, foreigners, and exiles from the borderlands to break through the walls of Camelot, King Arthur knew that he had lost the true support of the world."

"What about Merlin?" Harry couldn't help asking. "Why isn't he doing anything?"

Mordred said calmly, "He just stood there and watched King Arthur's final curtain call."

They all looked up at the silent figure at the top of the tower.

Merlin finally moved in the wind. He turned slowly, his cape fluttering, and with his back to the crowd, he disappeared into the thick mist.

His departure is the cruelest commentary on all this.

"Why am I telling you this?" Moremod looked at the seven people, his eyes burning with a certain obsession. "Because this is your future."

"The wizarding world is heading down a similar path. The conflict between pure-bloods and half-bloods, the contradiction between the wizarding world and the Muggle world. Voldemort is merely rekindling an old dream."

"Who among you can become the ultimate 'king' of this chaos?"

His eyes swept over Amanta and Harry.

Harry subconsciously took a half step back.

"Merlin's bloodline, you—" his gaze fell back on Amanta, "are the heir to this place."

"You want to decide how this era should continue?"

And Amanta raised her chin slightly, looked at him, and spoke clearly.

"No. I never thought of becoming king."

"We just want to put an end to all these curses and disputes."

As soon as the words fell, there was silence for a moment.

Suddenly, Moremod chuckled.

"Very good." He said softly, "Then let's see if your choice is better than mine."

"Stop joking." Thor finally couldn't help it. He frowned and almost questioned the whole audience, "We are only here to identify the savior! Not to perform a medieval tragedy!"

"The savior is never a product of destiny." Amanta turned her head, her eyes sharp. "Do you think that letting a baby be chosen can shoulder the fate of the entire world? Don't you think it's ridiculous?"

"This trial...is for us to choose whether we are willing to be that person." Harry stepped forward.

"I choose not to escape," he said firmly. "Whatever fate gives me, I will bear it, but I will not be a tool in its hands, nor a slave to prophecy."

"I will stand by those I believe in. Whether they are saviors or not, I am willing to fight for them." Neville followed closely.

Hermione's eyes were clear: "I believe in knowledge and reason. I will find out the truth and find a way out of the wizarding world."

"I think only by accepting uncertainty can we have freedom," Luna said softly.

Amanta exhaled slowly and looked towards Moremod.

"I choose to end your suffering."

"The wizarding world deserves a new future."

Mordred was silent.

He raised his hand, and the sword flew out, pointing straight to the sky.

"The Round Table is broken. A new king will rise."

A roar that shook the earth and the sky suddenly sounded, the illusions around everyone shattered, and the heaven and earth shook violently.

The wind was sharp as a blade, the sword gleamed like a hanging sword. That was the end of history, the end of kings and sorcerers.

"I tentatively believe that you are qualified to inherit Merlin and the soul of magic."

The Blood Gate opened, and the magical fluctuations left by Merlin slowly subsided.

They stood in front of the Blood Gate, and on the other side of the gate was the dawn of the real world.