Goda's face lit up with a mix of relief and awe. "My king," he said, his voice barely a whisper as he collapsed to the ground from the force of the kick. The knights' eyes widened in shock. "And he's furious."
Mel leaped from the megalodon and soared through the air, landing forcefully in the field. He aimed a powerful kick at Nicolas, who raised his sword to block the strike but was still knocked back, crashing into the ground. Mel landed gracefully in front of Goda, his gaze locked on the three intruders.
"Who are you, and what are you doing in my kingdom?" Mel demanded, his voice steady and commanding.
"It's Melanthius Shadowbane." Hawkin sneered, his eyes narrowing with contempt. "You're kingdom? You look barely fifteen. Are you really the one who defeated Maren? You did defeat Dorian but this is ridiculous."
Nicolas twirled his sword with a sinister grin. "I'll be the judge of that. If you can defeat me, we'll leave you—and this kingdom—alone." He lunged at Mel with a fierce, determined thrust.
Mel regarded the oncoming attack with an unflinching expression. As Nicolas swung his sword, Mel effortlessly dodged and countered with a swift hidden cloud punch, sending Nicolas crashing to the ground with a bloodied face. Without missing a beat, Mel seized Nicolas by the face and hurled him aside with a show of raw power.
Andrion and Hawkin exchanged glances of surprise. "This boy's capable of taking down Nicolas?" Andrion thought, watching intently.
Nicolas, his rage undiminished, grabbed Mel's shirt and delivered a vicious punch to his face. Yet, as Nicolas's fist connected, Mel's expression remained calm, and a cloud materialized on the side of his face where Nicolas had struck.
In an instant, Mel phased into a cloud and reappeared beside Nicolas. With a swift and powerful motion, he drove a hard punch into Nicolas's side, the impact resonating with a force that sent Nicolas staggering backward.
"This is it! The battle I've been waiting for!" Nicolas exulted, his eyes alight with manic excitement. "I haven't had this much fun since I fought Andrion and Hawkin. No, not even then! Not since that renaissance king!" He licked the blood from his lips with a sadistic grin, his anticipation palpable.
With a sudden burst of agility, Nicolas leaped into the air, twisting into an upside-down kick that struck Mel squarely on the head. Mel crumpled to the ground, his mouth open as black energy crackled within. Summoning all his strength, he spat a torrent of water at Nicolas's face.
Nicolas recoiled, howling in frustration as he rubbed his stinging eyes. "Damn it! Did you just throw rainwater at me?"
Mel rose to his feet, his gaze steely. He delivered a swift knee to Nicolas's face. "He's strong," Mel thought, his resolve hardening. "It feels like he's holding back, but he's crossed a line. He broke my moral code and attacked my people. He must be dealt with."
But before Mel could fully process his thoughts, Nicolas seized Mel's knee and twisted viciously, dislocating it with a sickening crack.
Mel gritted his teeth against the pain, his eyes narrowing with determination. He thrust his hand forward, releasing a barrage of rain bubbles that traveled at bullet-like speeds. The droplets struck Nicolas with force, sending him flying backward and crashing into the ground with a resounding thud.
Mel hit the ground hard, gritting his teeth as he forcefully popped his leg back into place. He stood up slowly, favoring his injured leg, while Nicolas casually dusted himself off.
Nicolas sneered, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Damn you're strong, you're really the king of Atlantis huh?"
Mel's brow furrowed in anger. "I'm Melanthius Shadowbane, King of Atlantis, Get out of my kingdom!" He growled.
Nicolas clicked his tongue in annoyance. "You're not strong enough to beat me. Atlantis now belongs to Slesan Empire." He dashed at Mel with incredible speed but to everyone's surprise, they heard two loud screams.
"Lightning of Camelot!"
"1000 fanged slashes!"
Elowen descended like a bolt of lightning, her blade, Excalibur, crackling with energy as she slashed at Nicolas, sending a searing bolt of lightning through him. In quick succession, Dorian darted in, his movements a blur as he unleashed a flurry of strikes with his dagger. The force of their combined assault left Nicolas staggering, barely able to shield himself with his sword against the onslaught.
"Elowen! Dorian!" Mel called out, relieved and determination in his voice as he saw his allies by his side. Elowen stood protectively in front of him, Excalibur still sparking with residual energy. Dorian took his place beside her, his dagger gleaming as he prepared for the next attack.
Nicolas coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his body sizzling from the lightning strike and the dagger's slashes. Despite his injuries, a twisted grin spread across his face. "Just my luck," he sneered. "Arthur Pendragon's daughter and Vlad Dracula's son? This is going to be a real challenge... but isn't this fun, Hawkin?"
Hawkin, however, wasn't sharing Nicolas's enthusiasm. "No," he muttered, appearing behind Dorian in an instant. Dorian barely had time to react, spinning around and slashing with his dagger, but Hawkin was faster. "Perfect deflect," he whispered, effortlessly redirecting the attack with a flick of his wrist before driving a powerful jab into Dorian's stomach, sending him flying back with devastating force.
Dorian was sent crashing into a building, but just before impact, his body dissolved into a flock of bats that fluttered upwards, reforming on the rooftop. He coughed up blood, dropping to one knee as pain surged through his body. "Why am I risking my life for another kingdom?" he thought bitterly, clutching his bruised side. He then sighed, "Because Mel would be the first to fight for mine without hesitation."
"Dorian!" Elowen shouted, her voice laced with concern. She raised Excalibur, ready to strike Hawkin, but Andrion swiftly seized her wrist. "Now, now," he said with a cold smile. "You may be the daughter of Arthur Pendragon, but don't provoke Hawkin. One wrong move, and his perfect deflection could end you."
Ignoring the warning, Elowen yanked her wrist free and landed a solid punch on Andrion, sending him spinning. "Yikes!" he exclaimed, regaining his balance just in time to headbutt her. Elowen staggered back but retaliated with a swift kick to Andrion's face, driving him into the ground with a thunderous impact.
"You're hurting me!" Andrion cackled as he stood, grabbing her hand and delivering a powerful kick to her chin, sending her reeling. "Just kidding!"
"They're too strong! I'm losing the will to fight!" Mel thought as he exchanged blows with Nicolas, each strike chipping away at his resolve. "I need to get Elowen and Dorian out of the sea first." His eyes darted to a long and rusty pipe lying on the ground, and a surge of clarity hit him. He bolted towards it, but Nicolas, sensing his intent, let out a growl.
"You're my prey! Don't run from your predator!" Nicolas roared, charging after Mel. But just as he was about to reach him, Andrion and Hawkin appeared in front of Nicolas, blocking his path.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Nicolas snarled, his voice tinged with frustration. "You know how much I hate being kept from my prey!" He was about to push past them when he suddenly felt a bone-chilling aura that froze him in his tracks. He looked at Andrion and Hawkin, who were both trembling and drenched in sweat.
The three knights turned to face Mel, their eyes widening as they saw him standing with the pipe in hand. In that moment, something primal flickered in their instincts. Without a word, they turned and leaped out of the sea, retreating to the surface.
No one knew exactly why they fled, why they chose to stop fighting. But one thing was certain: the sight of Melanthius Shadowbane holding that weapon had unleashed a terrifying killer instinct that none of them were willing to face.
After the battle, Mel, Elowen, and Dorian made their way through the halls of the school, their clothes drenched, and their bodies battered from the fight. They entered Thaddeus's office, where he was deep in conversation with his brother, King Aldara. The moment the door opened, the king's eyes widened in alarm.
"King Melanthius, Princess Elowen, Prince Dorian—what happened?" King Aldara asked, his voice laced with concern as he took in their bruised and exhausted appearances.
Mel stepped forward, his expression serious. "King Aldara, I wanted to inform you that three knights attacked my kingdom," he said, the weight of his words hanging in the air.
"Another attack… another burden." The thought clawed at the back of Mel's mind, a familiar voice whispering doubts. "You couldn't stop it. You're still too weak. They were right to question your leadership."
King Aldara's concern deepened as he quickly approached them. "Are you okay? Who were they?" he asked, his voice filled with worry.
Before Mel could answer, Thaddeus spoke up without even glancing away from the documents on his desk. "Nicolas the Cute, Hawkin the Swift, and Andrion the Devoted," he said matter-of-factly.
All eyes turned to Thaddeus in surprise. "How do you know this?" Mel asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.
Thaddeus shrugged, his tone casual. "Because they told me they would."
Elowen, Dorian, and Mel's eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean?" Elowen demanded, her voice laced with disbelief.
Thaddeus sighed, finally looking up from his work. "Look, Mel, you want to be some sort of savior, but the truth is, you can't. You're a 15-year-old son of an overlord who conquered countless kingdoms. The three knights informed me they'd target Atlantis after hearing that one of my students defeated the former king, Maren. I didn't stop them because I refuse to let history repeat itself. You've already taken over Atlantis, and with your father's legacy hanging over you, I can't allow this cycle to continue. Can I? Now run along."
"No… He's wrong. He has to be wrong." But Mel couldn't shake the knot of doubt tightening in his chest. "I'm not like him. I'm not Merlin. But… what if Thaddeus is right? What if this is all just a repetition of the past?"
His words hung heavy in the room, the reality of the situation settling in on the three of them as they stood before Thaddeus, their determination now clashing with the cold truth of their situation.
Mel's fists clenched, his knuckles white with rage. "I can't let this happen. I won't. I've worked too hard to be better than him. I can't let my people be treated like pawns". He thought. "So you allowed my people and your own students to be attacked?!" he growled, his voice trembling with anger.
Thaddeus chuckled, a cold smile playing on his lips. "I wasn't the one who let them break into Atlantis. A good king—like my brother—would never allow his kingdom to be breached in the first place."
"Is that true?" Mel's mind swirled, the weight of his father's shadow looming over him. "If I were stronger, would this have never happened?"
"Thaddeus! What were you thinking? You could've endangered Mel, the fish people, and your own students!" King Aldara scolded, his voice rising in anger.
Thaddeus shrugged nonchalantly. "And what was I supposed to do? It's not like they were attacking my kingdom." He was right even though he was rude about it.
"He's mocking me. Mocking everything I've built, everything I'm trying to protect." The doubt that had been simmering now bubbled into anger, hot and blinding. "I won't be humiliated. Not like this."
Mel's fury boiled over. In an instant, he appeared in front of Thaddeus, his fist drawn back, ready to strike. "You monster!" Mel snarled, his voice filled with venom. If I don't stop this now, if I don't make him see, then I'll lose everything!"
But just as his fist was about to connect, Draven appeared out of nowhere, catching Mel's fist in midair. "Melanthius, did you just try to attack your headmaster? Do you want to die?" Draven's voice was icy, his gaze piercing as he stared Mel down, the tension between them crackling like electricity.
Mel's heart pounded in his chest as Draven's words sank in. "I almost… I almost let it take control. Just like…" He felt the anger waver, replaced by a flood of doubt and shame. "Just like my father."
Moments later, Mel found himself being carried on a chair through the school halls. "Lance, what are you doing?" he asked, looking down at the 8th grader struggling to bear his weight.
Lance grunted with each step. "I need to get stronger! I'll be the one to take you down!"
Mel raised an eyebrow, confused. "Oh, really? Can you explain why? I think you owe me an explanation."
Lance huffed, trying to steady his grip. "My family is rich and famous for being fortune tellers. Me? I can sense changes in people's behavior. I'm here to keep an eye on you in case you ever go rogue. Right now, you just seem nervous and uneasy, but don't worry—I've never spied on you while you sleep!"
"Umm, okay. I think you should let me down and go to the middle school wing…" Mel rolled off of the chair and a cloud formed on the ground cushioning his fall. "I'm headed to gym class. DO NOT FOLLOW ME!" He demanded and walked into the gym, leaving Jake.
As he entered though, everybody's gaze turned to him, the silence was deafening, only the small whispers were barely heard:
"I can't believe he killed the wild storm spider."
"Then he should be some sort of hero right?"
"As if, I heard he tried to attack the headmaster and let his kingdom get attacked."
Mel clenched his jaw, his footsteps feeling heavier as the weight of their whispers followed him. He could feel their eyes on him, judging, doubting, and picking apart every rumor. The gym was supposed to be an escape, but it felt more like a battlefield.
"Keep walking," he muttered to himself, ignoring the urge to respond to the accusations. As he approached the training equipment, a group of kids blocked his path, their faces smug.
"Look who finally showed up," one of them sneered. "The great Melanthius, Spider-slayer. Got any more kingdoms to conquer while you're at it?"
Mel met his gaze, forcing himself to stay calm. "I'm just here for class," he said quietly, stepping past them, but their laughter echoed through the room.
"Careful," another one mocked, "He might decide we're the next threat."
The words cut deep, but Mel forced himself to keep walking until he reached an empty corner of the gym. Instead of training, he slumped down against the wall, burying his face in his hands.
"I just wanted to be a normal kid," he whispered, his voice cracking as tears welled up. His shoulders shook as he tried to stifle the sobs, but they came anyway, each one a release of the weight he'd been carrying.