At least Merlin hadn't been cruel enough to strip me of my magic. That would have been unbearable. As much as I hated being trapped, as much as I despised the invisible chains holding me in this castle, I could still feel the surge of power in my veins, the familiar hum of energy beneath my fingertips. My shadow magic, my necromancy, my soul manipulation, my portals, my telekinesis—it was all still mine. All of it.
I had been confined, yes, but not powerless.
The walls of the castle were high, thick, and unyielding. The spires reached into clouds I could never escape to, the gates locked by magics so old they predated kingdoms. I could move freely inside, explore every hidden passage, every forgotten tower, every dungeons, and chambers—but beyond that? Nothing.
It was a prison… and a perfect training ground.
I began my regimen.
First, shadow magic. I pushed it beyond its normal limits. Shadows twisted and warped under my command, responding to thoughts before they even left my mind. I could open portals within portals, creating labyrinths of darkness that existed only for me to walk through. I made the shadows solid, tangible, able to strike with the force of a battering ram or the precision of a dagger.
Then necromancy. I raised phantoms of knights long dead, creating dueling partners, warriors to challenge me, all under my control. I experimented with combining soul magic with temporal adjustments, testing if I could synchronize attacks across multiple timelines. The results were… promising.
Telekinesis, illusions, fire magic, energy blasts—I refined them, sharpened their precision, expanded their destructive power. I combined them in ways I had never dared outside of battle, weaving shadow and flame, soul energy and kinetic force together in intricate patterns that danced across the halls like living storms.
I mastered the Shadow Staff, Skathe-Hrün, fully integrating it with my body and mind. It became an extension of myself, a conduit that amplified every spell, every thought, every dark intention. When I swung it now, entire towers could shatter, entire battalions crumble.
And time magic… oh, time magic. I had always been impatient, eager for results, reckless. Now, I had centuries. I practiced rewinding, pausing, glimpsing alternate timelines. I learned to anticipate outcomes, manipulate sequences, and even create small loops to train simultaneously across moments. Every failure became a lesson, every misstep corrected in real-time by the vast corridors of potential I could explore.
The castle, my eternal prison, became my temple, my arena, my laboratory. I could feel my power growing, every moment bringing me closer to a level of mastery that even Merlin could not have predicted. I had all the time in the world—and I intended to use it.
The outside world, the battles, the betrayals, Merlin's vigilance—they were distant concerns now. For the first time in my existence, I could focus solely on one goal: perfection.
And when the day came that I broke free… when Merlin finally faltered, when the next Sorcerer Supreme rose in the world… they would meet not just Morgana Le Fay. They would meet the Mistress of Shadows perfected, the Necromancer supreme, the Mistress of magic from every world she had touched.
I would not be underestimated again.
I would not fail again.
Time was my ally. Power was my domain. Patience was my weapon.
And I had all of it.