The instant Morgoth's mind faltered—
Rowan struck.
"Excalibur. Thousandfold—no. Ten Thousandfold."
The sky inside Rowan's world ignited.
Ten thousand blades of radiant light materialized in perfect formation, each one a full manifestation of the Sword of Promised Victory.
From the moment Morgoth had entered this world, Rowan had been quietly working.
Using the authority of his domain.
Using its laws.
Using its amplification.
He had been forging Excaliburs in silence.
Ordinarily, Infinite Blade Works could only manifest one copy of the same Noble Phantasm at a time.
But this was Rowan's world.
Here, his rules overwrote all others.
At his current limit, ten thousand simultaneous manifestations were possible.
If the world were fully complete, that number would be far higher.
"No—!"
Morgoth barely expelled Rowan's invading will before the storm descended.
Ten thousand blades of holy light crashed down at once.
His body ruptured.
Dark flesh disintegrated.
Divine essence spilled outward like a shattered star.
His physical form collapsed.
"I will not accept this…!"
Rowan moved instantly.
He seized the three Silmarils embedded in Morgoth's crown.
Then he activated his devouring art.
Morgoth's dying body was torn apart and consumed.
Vast power surged into Rowan.
His aura swelled.
Stabilized.
Rose.
He felt it.
One final step remained.
Morgoth's soul.
If he devoured that as well, he would break through completely.
Then—
A gentle voice echoed through the world.
"My child… may you spare his soul."
Rowan froze.
Beside Morgoth's fading spirit stood a figure formed entirely of light.
Its shape was indistinct.
Its presence immeasurable.
Rowan's pupils contracted.
Someone had entered his world.
Without resistance.
Without distortion.
Without leaving a ripple.
Only one being in Arda fit that description.
Ilúvatar.
The source of all creation.
Father of the Valar and Maiar.
The mind behind the Music that shaped existence.
Rowan immediately dispersed his dragon form and stood in human shape.
"If you ask it of me… then I agree."
There was no hesitation.
No bargaining.
He knew the gap between them.
Even now, Rowan stood at the edge of cosmic divinity.
Ilúvatar existed beyond such measurements.
Devouring Morgoth's soul would not change that reality.
Ilúvatar inclined his head.
"I know you are unwilling. And I understand why."
"You are human."
"My child."
"To reach this point is something even many of my own creations never achieved."
"Mílkór has sinned gravely. I will bind him within the Timeless Halls. He will never again walk the lands of Arda."
"Your loss will not go uncompensated."
"You may enter the Timeless Halls whenever you wish."
"I will personally guide you in the completion of your world."
Light enveloped Morgoth's soul.
Both vanished.
Silence returned.
Then Rowan smiled.
Not politely.
Not modestly.
Genuinely.
He had lost one soul.
And gained something far greater.
Individual ascension could be achieved through many paths.
Devouring cosmic entities.
Absorbing primordial forces.
Hunting Celestials.
Those were matters of time.
But guidance in world creation—
From a true Creator—
That was priceless.
Rowan looked at the empty sky of his domain.
"A fair trade."
...
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