But even the Watchman of Camelot's biggest fan, among the relics Morgan le Fay had collected, had never possessed such a rare paraphernalia as the Dragon Scale.
The Dragon Scale was one of the magic artifacts created by that Watchman of Camelot.
And its purpose was singular: to grant the bearer immense defensive power.
Only, the Watchman of Camelot had once died by King Arthur's hand, and the Dragon Scale should have been destroyed as well.
Yet now, it was in Agravain's hands.
"Where did you get?"
Morgan le Fay, who had kept her composure until now, trembled, her bewitching red lips quivering.
That low voice carried the sense of an approaching storm.
"He died beneath the holy sword back then; the Dragon Scale should have been destroyed by the holy sword as well…"
She slowly lifted her head and stared at Agravain, speaking each word deliberately, "You, where did you get the Dragon Scale?"
In that instant, the mana in the whole alley seemed to surge into a frenzy. Even mighty Gawain's face changed violently. He stepped forward with the Sun Holy Sword in hand and positioned himself before Morgan.
But Morgan completely ignored Gawain, her gaze passing over the golden-haired man's shoulder to fix on Agravain behind him.
Despite years of training, when Agravain faced the witch called Morgan le Fay again, his body beneath the armor still stiffened and trembled.
In the end he bit his teeth and said, "He gave it to me before he died."
'News of Alvin's return, under no circumstances, must reach Morgan, at least not now.'
Agravain knew full well that with Morgan's personality, if she learned Alvin was inside the palace, she would openly return to the court at once.
If the current king met Morgan now, Camelot might be plunged into a third world-shattering war.
From past to present, the Camelot Empire had endured two wars memorable enough to be recorded in history.
One was the mythic war led by Alvin, Artoria, Morgan le Fay and others against the white dragon Vortigern.
That war heavily damaged the forces led by Vortigern and laid the foundation for Camelot's later rise.
The second was the Watchman of Camelot's night in which he nearly slaughtered the great nobles, leading a rebellion.
Both great wars were connected to the white dragon, so the name white dragon had become a symbol of curse and ill omen.
If Morgan went to the palace now, the trigger for this third war would again concern the white dragon.
'What a symbol of disaster,' Agravain thought darkly.
"Hand it over," Morgan le Fay fixed her gaze on Agravain, more precisely on the white dragon scale in his hand.
Just being stared at like that made a chill rise in Agravain's heart for no reason.
"Sorry, but I cannot give this to you."
Even so, he refused Morgan with absolute determination.
Morgan was someone who could turn rot into miracle. If the Dragon Scale fell into her hands, who knew whether she might discover the news that Alvin was alive.
Under no circumstances could the meeting between the king and Morgan be allowed.
With that thought, Agravain's expression hardened with absolute resolve.
"Seems you've improved in the years we haven't met, Agravain."
Morgan watched quietly. Shadows at her feet writhed, then swiftly spread out in all directions.
"But perhaps you forgot, you never had the right to refuse from the start!"
As she finished, the surrounding shadows grew like vines, frenziedly spreading until they blotted out the sky in an instant.
That darkness, as if intent on swallowing the world, made everyone's faces change drastically.
Kenneth, who had only recently transmigrated to Camelot, felt his heart race. Since the Age of Gods, he had never seen such a dazzling and overwhelming presence.
In that moment Morgan le Fay seemed a queen wielding absolute authority. Not only Kenneth, but even Agravain and Gawain could not find the will to resist.
Whoosh!
Despite everything, Gawain gritted his teeth and drew the Sun Holy Sword.
The golden light along the blade shot upward, as if trying to split the oppressive shadow that rushed toward them.
Yet the shadow seemed endless and devoured the sword's radiance almost at once.
By day Gawain enjoyed a triple battle power bonus, but at night his strength naturally waned.
Agravain watched the scene with a strong sense of crisis.
There had once been a legend in old Camelot.
When a demonic dragon descended, it would open a new Age of Gods. Darkness would blanket the land, and even King Arthur's holy sword would dim before it.
This was not mere legend. Vortigern had indeed once swallowed the holy swords of Gawain and Arthur in his dragon form.
If not for Alvin, perhaps Camelot's fate would have been different.
Now, Agravain felt that same terrifying devouring power in Morgan.
Even with two Knights of the Round Table standing before her, Reines behind them still felt peril seeping into the surface of her skin.
The night wind brushed their cheeks with bone-deep cold.
Kenneth shivered, every hair on his body standing on end.
If he had no clear concept of Age of Gods magics before, now that Morgan truly exercised her authority, the Clock Tower lord finally understood what such magic really was.
Mana, already nearly exhausted within Kenneth, pressed upon him like a vast ocean. His body swayed and he fell stiffly to the ground, losing consciousness.
Reines was no better. Even with Gawain holding the line ahead, her face had gone deathly pale.
At that desperate moment, a gentle and calm voice suddenly echoed through the alley.
"Long time no see. You seem much stronger than before."
"But as a mage from the Age of Gods, bullying a few children is a bit beneath the name Morgan le Fay, isn't it?"
When he spoke, a warm breeze accompanied by pink petals blew past.
The shadow that had nearly swallowed them all halted just short of touching them.
Wind came.
Pink petals drifted slowly in the summer night breeze.
A man reached out his hand and watched a petal land in his palm.
He looked up and smiled at the woman opposite him.
"Merlin."
Morgan's gaze toward the white-haired mage was filled with coldness, "You still dare show your face."
"We're old friends after all. It's rare to see you out. I had to come say hello."
Merlin shrugged and said helplessly, "Don't glare at me like that. It's been so many years, haven't you let go yet?"
"Let go?"
The shadow beneath Morgan's feet seemed to ripple slightly.
For a moment Morgan's exquisitely beautiful eyes became as cold as an icy pool.
Even the white-haired mage felt a bone-piercing chill rise from his core when he looked up and saw Morgan's face contort into unprecedented fury. Her murderous intent seemed ready to swallow him whole.
"If you hadn't meddled behind the scenes, how could Arthur have pulled that sword from the stone?"
"If you hadn't taught him how to use the Fate Contract, how could he have died?"
Indeed, Morgan from the start did not believe Alvin could personally defeat Artoria.
'Fate Contract EX' was the special authority Morgan le Fay had given Alvin, usable only once in a lifetime.
And she had not told Alvin how to use it correctly. To be precise, what she taught him was wrong.
When the white dragon and the red dragon opened the Age of Gods war, the Fate Contract would trigger by itself.
However, that damned nightmare secretly taught Alvin that very night, telling him how to use the Fate Contract.
Merlin had known of Morgan's plans from the beginning and did not intend for Alvin or Artoria to die.
He only handed the choice to Alvin.
A nightmare delights in testing human nature; to them, such trials are prime nourishment.
Alvin's choice after being opposed by the world was the ultimate test of human nature.
Faced with the temptation of the throne, he chose his lover without hesitation, deceived the witch who once made nobles tremble, then died bearing the blame.
That was the story of the Watchman of Camelot.
Even now, Morgan's recollection of the past filled her with bitter regret.
She could not accept that outcome.
Everything had been planned, yet a creature not even worthy of being called a person overturned every plan.
'Only Merlin…'
'Only Merlin must die!'
"Seems you still don't understand, Morgan."
Merlin sighed softly, "Even if he killed Lily under your plan, he still would not have chosen to become king."
"Likewise," Merlin said, "he would not have chosen you."
Lies do not wound; truth is the sharp knife.
The rage that had filled Morgan froze mid-expression.
Then, slowly, very slowly, she lowered her eyes.
Over the years, despite countless people admiring Morgan le Fay's excellence and beauty, before Artoria Morgan felt an abiding inferiority.
Between king and lover, she was always one step too late.
Her father Uther had chosen her sister over her.
And Alvin… had likewise chosen her sister.
To be precise, Alvin had fallen in love with Artoria before Morgan arrived.
She had only forced herself between them later, a third wheel.
And she failed once again, that was all.
Although she possessed terrifying absolute power, Morgan looked exhausted at this moment.
Gareth watched her mother and opened her mouth as if to speak, but words died unsaid.
The fear of the witch was not limited to nobles; it reached even Morgan's children.
Even Gareth's feelings toward Morgan were more fear than affection.
There had once been people who truly treated her as a girl, but that was the past.
It was not Merlin who truly killed him, but her own greed.
Unsatisfied with merely sharing him with her sister, she wanted more, she wanted to monopolize a person's love.
Some fluctuations of mana seemed to permeate the space.
While speaking with Morgan, Merlin had secretly cast an illusion and taken everyone away.
In truth, with Morgan's sensing, if she wished she could have caught up with them quickly.
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