The great hall fell silent. The other Archmages stood motionless; only Butuo XVII could see what was happening around him and move freely.
He saw a hazy gray light turn dazzling, and a black-robed figure gradually emerged from it.
"You... Mage Merlin?"
Butuo XVII was deeply shocked. Over the past few centuries, he had tried almost every means imaginable to find Merlin, without uncovering a single trace. Sometimes, he had even wondered whether Merlin was truly dead.
Yet he had watched Merlin rise step by step, until he finally displayed the power to slay gods. Deep in his heart, Butuo XVII kept reminding himself that Merlin would not die so easily.
Perhaps that was precisely why he had never broken his promise or moved against the Wilson Family. Instead, he had protected them throughout those centuries.
"Your Majesty, we meet again. Several centuries have passed, and it seems you have realized your grand ambitions. Your empire can almost rival the Molta Empire of old. Do you still have any regrets?"
"Regrets?"
At first, Merlin's appearance had alarmed Butuo XVII, but he gradually calmed down. He knew that these Archmages would be utterly useless against Merlin.
"What regrets could I have? I command a vast empire. The entire continent is in my hands, and even the Spellcaster World has submitted completely. I am the most powerful monarch in this world. What regrets could I possibly have?"
Butuo XVII radiated pride. Merlin had known him back when he was merely the Eighth Prince. From Merlin's perspective, the king of a single realm within the Land of Glory could not even compare to an ordinary Legendary Mage.
But this was already the greatest achievement an ordinary Spellcaster like Butuo XVII could attain. He held absolute power within the Land of Glory and ruled