Morgan opened her closed eyes.
For a brief second, Morgan imagined the most beautiful and perfect Britain.
In a peaceful palace with her beloved daughter and husband, Morgan found perfect stability.
Even after waking from her imagination, that sensation remained vivid.
'If Cael comes, it will become a reality, not an imagination. I will make it so.'
In front of her stood a tiresome fanatic.
Only one obstacle remained, one she wanted to get rid of immediately.
"Yes. It is certain that the Heroic Spirit of the observatory rejected me. Though he was Cael, that man with no memories of Cael despised me."
"If that is the case..."
"What of it?"
Johanna's widened eyes turned to Morgan.
"Cael is mine. Cael cannot reject me."
An arrogant statement.
"If he rejects me, then he is not Cael. That is why I killed him."
That statement was filled with a conviction that no one could shatter.
Morgan was capable.
She had the power to make even a messy logic correct.
"If the Lupus resting in the room rejects you, will you kill him? Just like you killed Mr. Assassin?"
"His name is Cael. He was not given a name like a wolf cub."
"Don't speak of Lupus as if he were a possession. You have no right."
Johanna frowned.
Morgan was wrong. Her premise was flawed from the beginning.
"Lupus does not belong to anyone. He is just an ordinary man who gets lonely easily."
In Johanna's memory, Lupus was always an anxious man.
Childish, perhaps.
He had a strong tendency to act impulsively, afraid to speak honestly.
He wavers if there isn't someone by his side.
He was a person who would eat away at himself and eventually collapse.
"Lupus may have met you under the name Cael. There may have been a time when he played the role of Tamamo-no-Mae's father as a stranger."
What he needs is not the genius and arrogant plans of heroes.
"Traveling through countless times, Lupus must have had many deep relationships that I do not know of. It would be a lie to say I'm not jealous, but I can't scold Lupus for it. Because I wasn't there for him when he needed someone's help."
Qualification. Johanna was asking about qualification.
"Do you have such a qualification? Just because you became a part of Lupus's life, do you have the right to restrain his life and torment him with words of love?"
Before she knew it, tears were streaming down Johanna's face.
"No one has such a ri—"
"I do."
Morgan did not shed a single tear.
Her expression did not falter in the slightest.
As if she had no emotions, she did not empathize with Johanna's heart one bit.
"Cael believed in my dream. He promised me a lifetime. What other words are needed?"
Johanna noticed the emotion hidden deep within Morgan's heart.
The name of that emotion was anger.
"I have risen again and again. It started when I was washed ashore to the mainland from the destroyed Orkney. Without relying on anything, I struggled to keep a vague ideal alive."
Morgan's words were incredibly dry, but there was a faint tremor in her voice.
"I wandered for 6,000 years. The dream given by my family and the stubbornness given by my Proper Human History self mixed together to complete the fae that is me."
An ominous magical energy flowed out of Morgan's body.
Did she fail to control her magical energy due to a sudden change in emotion? Would a witch like Morgan make such a simple mistake?
Even Morgan herself does not know the answer.
"Cael must be in my land. Do I have the right to torment him? I do. In any case, suffering is forgotten in 10 years. For the remaining time of over 100 years, I will give Cael a happiness he has never experienced in his life."
Her hand holding the staff was full of strength.
"So do not interfere. Do not test my patience. Prostrate yourself miserably on the floor and beg for your life."
They both understood that the conversation was over.
Morgan, through her conversation with Johanna, looked back on herself and revived the anger she had been suppressing, the anger she thought she had forgotten.
Johanna saw Morgan's stubbornness. It seemed impossible to break through a heart that had been locked by the immense lock of 6,000 years.
The moment Morgan raised the hand holding the staff.
Johanna immediately activated a protection spell.
"You are slow."
Thud. Dozens of black thorns pierced Johanna's body.
"Even in falling."
Her most important Spirit Core was intact, but this was Morgan's intention.
I will give you enough pain to kill you, but I will not kill you.
Johanna let out a sigh at the magic, which was a bundle of malice.
An excruciatingly painful pain flowed through Johanna's entire body, but the physical pain was bearable.
'Am I... really no good after all.'
What was painful was her heart.
Even after being summoned as a Servant, Johanna was still weak.
Johanna, who believed that the weak had their own strength, developed her strengths.
A firm conviction and faith. She rose to the position of Pope with a brain that had absorbed a fair amount of knowledge.
Johanna could never be called an ordinary person, but the comparison group was too strong.
A nine-tailed fox of golden fur and white face, humanity's first hero king, a fae who had trained for 6,000 years.
There was nothing Johanna could put forward.
'I, too, wanted to be of help...'
They say there is power in words, but words without power are empty cries.
Johanna's body slowly collapsed to the floor.
Morgan left without even a glance at the fallen Johanna.
The place she was heading to was Cael's room.
One step forward.
The moment when only one step remained until Morgan's dream was complete.
Draco's sharp claws, which appeared by breaking through the floor below, stopped Morgan.
"You weakling beast...!"
"Hmph. The witch is not as great as I thought either."