The next day brought no results from the so-called investigation, despite Merlin and Morgan blasting their combined clairvoyance across every corner of Britannia, peeling away secrets one after another. It was as if something or somewhere had deliberately blinded them, cutting their vision short just when the truth was within reach.
After thoroughly breeding Guinevere the night before and making sure her queen was properly pregnant, carrying her heir, Artoria sat back on her throne with a glass of red wine in hand.
She listened calmly as Merlin gave his report, her sharp eyes focused, while Guinevere served at her side, feeding her plump grapes directly into her mouth.
Besides feeding her, Guinevere's hands occasionally massaged her shoulders and temples, easing the tension in her body and keeping the King of Knights calm and satisfied.
Artoria didn't lose her composure, because this was exactly the result she had expected.
After all, her enemy was not only Alaya but the combined will of Alaya and Gaia, the Counter Force in full. They had access to Counter Guardians, Dead Apostles, and if necessary, they could even summon Heroic Spirits or unleash one of the Beasts themselves.
The only reason they hadn't pounced like rabid dogs already was thanks to the vest of protection she had carefully woven for herself. That was also why she hadn't brought Gabriel here, only Krul.
If the Counter Force learned that Gabriel, the so-called ally she spoke of, or the supposed God backing her, were not nearly as strong as she let them believe, then the board would have been flipped long ago.
They would never have tolerated the way she speedran Britannia, uniting the island and tearing apart the careful balance they had maintained for centuries.
The only reason they stayed their hand was the illusion. They feared that if they intervened directly, the God behind her might also descend onto the board. If they only sent their pawns, then the conflict remained a fight between chess pieces rather than the players themselves.
Regrettably, that God didn't exist. Everything she projected, the divine aura, the backing, the impossible presence was just performance, a grand façade staged only to intimidate the Counter Force for a little while longer.
She knew eventually the illusion would crack, and once it did, her enemies would realize the truth.
And if the worst scenario came to pass? Then she would drag Camelot out of this world entirely, retreating into either the DxD world or Seraph of the End for temporary refuge, rebuilding her empire there if necessary.
For now, the Counter Force was only in its opening moves, sending small pests and bugs her way, hoping to disrupt her empire.
Nothing more.
That was all.
Honestly, it was still disgusting. Even though she had the top magi of the land in her service, experts who could monitor every corner of her empire, their efforts were effortlessly blocked by the Counter Force. It would have been far easier if she could simply pierce through everything instantly, see every disturbance, and crush it at the fastest possible speed. Since this method failed, only one option remained.
"Did Atlas Academy send their reply, Merlin?"
"Yes, my king. They have responded. They also sent one of their finest students to assist, to implement the concept of technology you proposed and merge it with magecraft. A brilliant solution, if I may say so—technology to overcome mystery itself." Merlin praised with his usual smug smile, his flattery growing more exaggerated with every word.
The term "technology" was nothing strange in this world. From Ancient Greece to Ancient Rome, humanity on Earth had been far more advanced than most gave them credit for. But those inventions had long been buried and erased from history. It made sense, however—modern technology was the greatest enemy to Alaya and Gaia, both of whom clung desperately to mystery as if their very existence depended on it. Otherwise, why else would the Land of Steel timelines come to pass, where Alaya and Gaia perished the moment mystery was stripped bare by human progress?
With these new inventions, Artoria chose to implement surveillance throughout Britannia with the help of Atlas Academy, bypassing the reliance on traditional magecraft. Moreover, her other counterpart, Gabriel, also contributed heavily to the research and the invention process, improving the framework to suit Artoria's needs.
"Enough with the empty praise, Merlin. Report back only when the student arrives." Artoria cut through his clownish theatrics with a cold stare.
"Yes, my king." Merlin gave a flamboyant salute, adding unnecessary flair even as he left.
Now, only Artoria and Guinevere remained in the throne room. Even though her futa cock had already vanished after finishing her breeding of the queen earlier, but her lust hadn't dimmed in the slightest.
She looked at Guinevere, her eyes burning with a heavy, undeniable hunger. Guinevere blushed at the intensity of her king's gaze, her body trembling from the overflow of lust directed at her.
"My king?" she whispered softly, her voice trembling with equal parts desire and nervousness.
"Let us continue our love, my queen. There is no one to disrupt us now." Artoria smirked as she poured crimson wine into her goblet, then tilted it, letting the liquid spill directly into Guinevere's mouth before sealing her lips with her own and devouring the taste from her.
Guinevere moaned against her, her body yielding completely as her king's tongue invaded her mouth, claiming her without mercy.
Her body melted into Artoria's embrace, her soft curves pressing tight against the armor and clothes of the king who dominated her so completely.
With that, their passion flared again. This time, they didn't bother stripping down, they did it right there in the throne room, both of them fully clothed.
Guinevere straddled her king's lap, skirts bunched up as she sat firmly against her, rocking her hips slowly.
Every movement, every touch was soaked with devotion and raw lust, as Guinevere basked in the overwhelming attention her king poured onto her, letting herself be completely consumed.
While Artoria sat upon her throne, giving her full attention to her queen, it did not mean Britannia had stopped moving or sharpening its claws. The kingdom still geared its armor, still honed its blades. Knights continued their patrols through the streets as usual, but this time their eyes were sharper, their gazes sterner, every step carrying the weight of silent vigilance. The churches remained filled with devout believers offering prayers, but if one paid close enough attention, they would notice the subtle, fleeting glow of scarlet eyes leaking through the veil of a nun's composure, a proof that even their most sacred halls were being watched, and every gesture was accounted for.
The nobles gathered in their usual circles, laughter echoing in the banquet halls, wine flowing freely as none bothered to mince their words. Their serving women, obedient and faithful, leaned close to refill goblets, allowing wandering hands to grope their asses or squeeze their breasts without resistance. Yet when these women were dismissed, their demeanor changed instantly. The playful mask dropped, and in the corners of the hall, they leaned toward cloaked figures, whispering secret words before those figures melted away into the shadows.
And it was not just them. Even a cat slipping casually through the alleys could be more than it appeared, its ears twitching as it eavesdropped on knights' idle chatter. Beggars lying on the roadside, seemingly drunk or asleep, were quietly memorizing the conversations of passersby. In the alleys, on the castle walls, deep inside the markets and the homes of the capital, everywhere, spies had already been placed, their eyes prying into every corner.
Morgan received the reports directly, the parchments handed over by yet another cloaked figure. Her cold expression grew even frostier as her eyes darted across the words, her silence heavier than steel.
The intelligence network she had inherited from Artoria was vast enough to track even the smallest ripple inside Camelot. Every movement, every whisper, every hidden glance, all of it came back to her. And yet, it was not enough. The traitors still walked free. The seed of rebellion had not yet been uprooted.
She clenched her jaw, thinking. More spies were needed. Beyond the capital, the empire's grip was weak, and for the first time she could see clearly how fragile its hold truly was. No, not the empire itself, but the corrosive, disgusting effectiveness of Alaya's influence.
"Send word to all the nobles outside the capital," Morgan commanded, her tone cold and final, carrying no room for doubt. "Every last one of those recently promoted to fill our territories must come to Camelot. Even Vortigern. Especially him. His loyalty is in question, and I want to know why he cannot crush a pitiful rebellion in Londinium."
"Yes, Lady Morgan," the cloaked figure answered without hesitation.
With that, the shadow slipped away, leaving her alone in the silence of her chamber, her frosty expression lingering as the weight of plots and rebellions pressed down upon her shoulders.
...
Note:
The current vote results overwhelmingly favor the girl choice over the femboy.
Even in terms of Power Stones, the girl option is winning.
I will close the vote tomorrow. If the girl choice still leads, the femboy option will be closed forever.
Also, this story needs more reviews, to be precise, it needs ten reviews in total for a rating to show in the review section.
But well, the story has a mixed bag of ratings.
Some people don't like yuri, and someone even questioned my sanity for writing this. So, ten total reviews may not be enough for a positive rating; maybe 15 will do.
If we get an additional 11 new 5-star reviews, I'll also add a bonus chapter.
That means tomorrow you could get three chapters in total.
Of course, if Power Stones momentum stays strong and feedback remains positive, I'll also fulfill my promise and give you the regular updates you wanted.
For now, I've updated two chapters as promised.