"Huh. That went smoother than I expected."
Basking in the sunlight, a young man strolled leisurely through King Marco's grand estate, his mood remarkably carefree.
Not long ago, Alvin had engaged in a friendly, democratic discussion with the great noble—King Marco, who was Tristan's uncle.
And as expected, King Marco had enthusiastically agreed to Alvin's terms, pledging unconditional support for King Arthur's decision henceforth.
Truth be told, this was how Alvin and Artoria had always operated.
Back when Artoria first ascended the throne, most of these nobles were "veterans" who had served under the previous king.
And so, they had a habit of throwing their weight around.
Early on, any policy Artoria implented that threatened noble interests would face glacial progress—or outright sabotage.
Officials would suddenly develop "back pain" or "fall gravely ill."
Then, one night, a certain anonymous Night Watcher proposed a solution:
First, hold a democratic vote to secure nominal approval.
For those who remained unconvinced... he would personally conduct friendly, effective negotiations.
The results spoke for themselves.
After that, the nobles' "ailnts" miraculously vanished. Their efficiency in executing royal decrees improved dramatically...
Of course, this thod had one side effect:
The na "Night Watcher" beca taboo among the nobility.
Parents began warning their children, "If you misbehave, the Night Watcher will take you away."
Well..it wasn't like Alvin cared about it.
After all, he was a pragmatist.
As long as it sped up his "route completion" and unlocked CGs, reputation ant nothing to him.
As the estate gates ca into view, he shook off such thoughts.
"Ti to report back to Lily."
With a thought, the [Night Watcher's Authority] activated and his figure vanished into the air like a ghost.
...
.....
Not long after Alvin left, King Marco still sat silently in the room, motionless, the terror in his eyes yet to fade.
It was only after a long while that he suppressed the palpitations in his heart, suddenly stood up, and pushed open the door.
The guard at the door looked helplessly at King Marco, whose face was twisted and drenched in sweat.
Before he could speak, the latter had already grabbed his collar and, with a voice full of suppressed emotion, said in a low tone, "Where is Tristan? Quick… take to him!"
...
"How truly sorrowful."
On a warm, sunny morning, Tristan, who had just returned to the manor not long ago, was sitting in a corner of the garden, his eyes full of lancholy.
"Still thinking about today's events, Tristan?"
A gentle female voice ca from beside him as a blonde woman embraced Tristan from behind.
"Isolde, it's you."
Seeing the blonde woman before him, a mont of softness appeared in Tristan's eyes, and then he instinctively glanced around.
"Don't worry, King Marco is still resting inside," Isolde said softly.
Tristan's parents had died young, so he had long served as a knight beside the great noble King Marco.
Because his mother was King Marco's sister, this great nobleman also counted as Tristan's 'uncle.'
Although he had now beco a mber of the Knights of the Round Table, for the sake of the beloved woman by his side, and to repay his uncle's kindness, Tristan continued to live in this manor.
But the tragedy was that the woman Tristan loved, Isolde, was precisely the one whom King Marco was madly pursuing.
The great noble had even sworn to marry Isolde.
On one side was the uncle who had cared for him for many years, on the other was the woman with whom he shared mutual affection… This was sothing that had troubled Tristan deeply in recent years.
"I heard that King Arthur intends to cooperate with the transmigrator… Does King Marco not approve?" Isolde asked softly.
"The appearance of the transmigrator signifies uncertainty. Uncle spent years elevating his position in the empire. It's normal for him not to want anything to disrupt that."
Tristan sighed lightly, "But the king has made up her mind. No one can change her will."
"Besides, not all transmigrators are untrustworthy… I believe cooperating with them is the right decision."
Of course, no matter what decision King Arthur made, as long as it didn't cross a line, Tristan would unconditionally support her.
It's just that… ever since leaving the royal palace, the red-haired knight had been filled with unease.
For instance… what if King Marco was plotting sothing in secret?
Not only King Marco, many of the other kings, and even most nobles, were conservatives.
If any tricks were played in this cooperation…
For example, if they directly targeted the transmigrators…
"If the king eventually takes action against King Marco… what will you do?" Isolde suddenly asked in a low voice.
"When I joined the Knights of the Round Table, I swore that from then on, I would dedicate my sword and blood to the king… If it's the king's decision, I will obey it unconditionally."
This sentence already counted as a clear declaration of his stance.
However, despite saying so, Isolde still saw sorrow in the red-haired knight's eyes.
Not just sorrow toward King Marco—more importantly, it was sorrow for the empire's future.
"Sir Tristan!"
At that mont, an urgent voice suddenly ca from outside the garden.
Tristan and Isolde almost instinctively let go of each other's hands as if shocked by electricity.
The red-haired knight slightly turned his head and saw a guard walking quickly toward them.
Then, not far behind that guard, he soon saw King Marco, whose face was pale.
Tristan was montarily stunned, then asked with a doubtful look in his eyes, "What happened to you?"
There still seed to be a trace of lingering fear on King Marco's face.
Upon seeing Tristan, King Marco quickly stepped forward, gripped his shoulders, and said in a slightly trembling voice:
"Tristan… he's back!"
He?
Tristan was taken aback, but before he could ask more, another knight hurried into the garden.
"Sir Tristan, sothing bad has happened!"
"Word just ca from the palace… Morgan le Fay has returned to the palace and is now confronting the King!"
Morgan le Fay?!
That na made Tristan's eyelids twitch slightly, and he instinctively looked in the direction of the palace.
First, Morgan used indexing magic, and after that, even she herself went to the palace?
What exactly is she planning…?
"Could it be… related to him?"
At this mont, King Marco's voice suddenly ca from the side.
Tristan's thoughts stirred as he looked over instinctively and asked, "Who?"
"The Night Watchman I just ntioned."
Under Tristan's incredulous gaze, King Marco spoke in a low voice: "…He's back."
...
Like scorching sunlight breaking through heavy clouds, when the holy sword symbolizing "King" stood at the gates of the palace, golden radiance quietly blood with the sword at its center, as if dispersing all darkness.
Morgan narrowed her eyes slightly, staring at the blonde-haired King of Knights before her.
Artoria was also looking at her.
Their eyes t.
The stunning beauty beneath Morgan's black veil no longer carried a cold air; instead, a seductive smile appeared on her face.
"Unknowingly, you've already grown so much, Lily."
Morgan looked over Artoria. "You've been waiting for all along, haven't you?"
"Little Mo must have been the bait you used to lure out, right?"
Morgan knew that ever since she initiated the White Dragon Resurrection Plan, Artoria had been searching for her trail.
It wouldn't be surprising even if Artoria had deliberately used Mordred to "fish" for her.
"I never imprisoned her in the first place, let alone used her as bait."
Artoria's voice pulled Morgan back from her thoughts. "As for how I knew you'd return—have you forgotten that you gave us advance notice last night, Sister?"
As she said the last part, Artoria turned her head to look toward a certain corner of the palace. Her voice carried a chilling edge as she said:
"The return of the Age of Gods would leave no chance for commoners to survive… Are you planning to walk the sa path as Vortigern?"
By the ti she finished speaking, a terrifying aura of majesty radiated from the Holy Sword.
Golden particles floated through the air, making Gareth and Mordred behind Morgan feel their hearts race uncontrollably.
There was no doubt—King Arthur was truly angry!
Artoria understood very clearly that the arrival of the "Age of Gods" would an sacrificing the people of Britain.
Even if it was her royal sister, if she harbored such dangerous intentions, shw would show no rcy.
Looking at the Holy Sword in Artoria's hand, a trace of amusent flickered in Morgan's eyes.
"The Holy Sword that once killed two generations of White Dragons?"
"You greet with such a high-grade weapon the mont we et. Should I feel honored?"
Although she said this, her tone was laced with faint sarcasm.
"I killed two generations of White Dragons?"
Morgan's words struck deeply at Artoria's heart.
She lifted her head and said coldly, "Was it who killed them?"
"If you hadn't granted him that authority, if not for your greed, the battle between and him would never have happened."
"Is that so?" Morgan tilted her head slightly. "Wasn't it because of your weakness back then that he resolved to clear your path for you?"
Back when Artoria had just beco King Arthur, all she wanted was to make the empire a better place.
However, the previous emperor left behind a massive hidden danger before his death—the nobles.
In fact, even without Morgan's plan, Alvin would have likely used similar ans to eliminate the kings and sacrifice himself to fulfill King Arthur's vision.
As she said this, Morgan even thought Artoria might swing the Holy Sword at her.
However, the latter rely closed her eyes in silence.
After a long ti, she softly said, "You're right. I truly was weak in the past… and I was protected by him."
"Perhaps, just as you said—even without your plan back then, he would have still died… but that's only a hypothesis."
The Artoria of the past was already gone.
The person she was now no longer needed anyone's protection… On the contrary, this ti, she would be the one to protect him.
"I will not let him leave a second ti."
Her tone was calm and resolute.
"A second ti…"
Morgan picked up a great deal of information from Artoria's words and asked casually: "He's back?"
Though she deliberately controlled her voice to stop it from trembling, there was still a trace of hope in her beautiful eyes beneath the veil.
"He's back."
Then, from Artoria's lips, Morgan heard the answer she had longed for deep within her heart.
He really ca back…?
After being pierced through the heart by the Holy Sword, he had actually returned in such an unbelievable way?
As Morgan's heart was still overwheld with an indescribable sense of joy, Artoria's cold voice rang out again.
"But this ti, I won't let you get even half a step near him."
In the past, when she had learned that her royal sister was secretly seducing Alvin, Artoria chose to turn a blind eye for the sake of the greater good.
And what she got in return was Morgan's swelling greed, which eventually led to her attempting to completely possess him.
"Where is he now?"
However, Morgan acted as if she hadn't heard Artoria's words and asked the question that weighed heaviest on her mind.
She thought Artoria wouldn't answer, but instead, she saw her sister's lips curve into a smile like breaking ice.
"My bedchamber." Before Morgan could react, Artoria said softly, "Sister, I don't think you'll ever truly understand what real love is."
"He and I are genuinely in love. And he once told , from now on, he'll stay by my side forever…"
As she said this, it seed the warmth of their intimate mont from the previous day resurfaced in her mory as a gentle smile spread across Artoria's face.
She raised her head to gaze at Morgan and said with a radiant smile:
"If you lure soone with just your body, even if you get them, all you'll ever have is an empty shell."
Morgan's expression remained still before she spoke.
"Perhaps you're right,"
"What I gain with just I body may indeed only be an empty shell in the end."
But then, looking at the smiling younger sister, Morgan suddenly broke into a bright smile after a long silence.
"But Lily… perhaps you didn't know how obedient that 'empty shell' was when he used to lie in my arms and call 'Sister Morgan'?"
The air suddenly froze.
Watching the smile gradually fade from King Arthur's face, both Mordred and Gareth felt their eyelids twitch violently—their finely tuned instincts were now blaring full-force alarms.
The two of them nearly stepped back in unison.
Boom!
In the very next instant, golden magical particles surged madly into Artoria's hands.
The Holy Sword radiated a searing brilliance so intense it seed capable of lting everything in its path.
Her holy blue eyes snapped open, like the gates of heaven thrown wide, brilliant, dazzling light eclipsing even the scorching sun beneath the heavens.
"Morgan——!!!"
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