Chapter 134: Merlin, the Drunken Old Man
Although Starscream's starting point and plan were brilliant, as long as he avoided contacting influential nobles or high-ranking officials, he wouldn't cause much of a stir among the masses. Even when reports surfaced about forest beasts or incredible monsters, they were dismissed as rumors—tales spun by drunks. In truth, these were stories born from Starscream's encounters with his targets, which quickly faded into obscurity.
Unfortunately, those seemingly suitable candidates weren't ideal. Starscream needed someone whose genes and lineage could carry Transformer heritage—in short, a human whose genetic information could be inscribed with Cybertronian data. But such humans were exceedingly rare, and a single careless mistake could lead to unnecessary casualties.
Until one day, in a remote village, Starscream came across a drunkard named Merlin.
He was an old man, half-buried by time, who had achieved little in life but possessed a silver tongue. He survived by swindling and deceiving others. This man loved to drink, yet being perpetually broke, he was often thrown out of taverns and left to wander the wastelands.
"Host, I should've thought of this earlier. While some humans' genes are ideal for data transmission, they require alcohol to neutralize the side effects of machine civilizations. It seems these humans have unknowingly created some excellent brews—but I still think Cybertron's Hybrid Oil No. 3 tastes better."
Ah yes, alcohol — perhaps the greatest invention of ancient humanity. Its unique evaporation and intoxicating effect could numb the pain of having alien data forcibly injected into one's brain. Some even experienced vivid hallucinations.
Take Merlin, the drunkard chosen as Red Spider's experimental subject. After awakening, he went around declaring that he had been blessed by the gods and had become a great wizard. To convince others, he brandished a strange metallic staff, claiming he could summon dragons.
Such ramblings would normally be dismissed as drunken nonsense, but the name "Merlin the Wizard" spread like wildfire — eventually reaching the ears of the generals preparing for battle against the Huns.
"Do you think this could be true? I'd like your opinions. Although we already have the support of ancient saints, I've heard that the Huns possess powerful allies as well. Perhaps we do need a wizard's aid?"
The speaker was King Arthur, the last bastion of the Western world. His elite force was formed in cooperation with veteran Autobots. Yet, after testing their strength, Arthur discovered the Predacons were no easy foes. A deep sense of crisis began to grow within him—a king's instinct.
"My king, I sent men to track that old fool. Aside from that strange staff, he's nothing but a vagrant and a con artist! I don't believe he can summon any dragons. If our army must rely on some mythical beast instead of our weapons, the goddess of victory will abandon us!"
"William, don't speak so rashly. Have you forgotten those legendary warriors? Our history reveres them as gods, yet in truth, they are beings far superior to us. So yes, true wizards and dragons must exist in this world. But whether this Merlin possesses the magic we need—remains uncertain."
In this era of limited information, even the smallest rumor could spark major upheaval among the ruling elite. And that was precisely the brilliance of Red Spider's plan: neither the veteran Autobots allied with King Arthur nor the Primeval Beasts fighting for the Hun coalition would pay attention to the drunken lies of an old man.
In truth, Merlin possessed no magic at all. The metallic staff he wielded was a converter—a superior alien energy device capable of communicating with Storm Chimera.
Through this converter, Red Spider could easily manipulate events, transforming the mechanical chimera into the "dragon" Merlin claimed to summon.
As the saying goes, "Three men can make a tiger," and a lie told ninety-nine times can become truth. With the upper ranks now fixated on "Merlin the Wizard," the old drunk who once conned taverns out of cheap ale now enjoyed fine wines reserved for nobles and partners.
"Hehe, looks like we've achieved our goal, System Chief. Now, let's see if our wizard Merlin is willing to help us keep this secret. If he passes this final test, we'll help him become a true magician."
To cooperate with advanced alien civilizations, genetic compatibility alone wasn't enough. Constant secrecy was crucial. If this so-called wizard ever revealed Red Spider's location—even drunkenly—his staff would instantly become worthless scrap, a mere ornament incapable of controlling alien machinery.
Merlin's fate would not end with mere exile from the tavern. King Arthur's sword was no joke—deceiving such a monarch was no simple feat. Yet Arthur had no time to verify Merlin's authenticity. The Roman legions had fallen, and more nomadic tribes were joining the Hun army. Their first target: Arthur's final stronghold, the last peaceful region of Europe.
Outnumbered, Arthur once again raised his sword to defend his homeland, fighting alongside the "wizard" Merlin and his most loyal knights.
The veteran Autobot warriors who had arrived in Arthur's lands joined the fray as well, facing off once more against the Primeval Beast Army led by The Fallen.
Of course, Starscream wasn't part of any faction at that time—strictly speaking, he was a third party.
"Heh, this should be a fine show indeed. I can't wait to see The Fallen's face when he witnesses Storm Chimera unleash its power."
(End of Chapter)