Morgan paused briefly upon hearing Arthur's words, but soon a faint smile appeared on her face.
"I'm telling the truth," Arthur added, noticing Morgan's gaze.
"I know," Morgan said with a smile. "I can feel your sincerity."
She was able to sense whether others were hostile or benevolent toward her, and without a doubt, Arthur's words came straight from the heart.
When she looked at Arthur, her eyes softened. "But I just showed you an embarrassing side of myself."
"I understand how you feel. The anger of being falsely accused isn't something that fades easily," Arthur said seriously.
"You should say that you haven't seen anything so far… You still have a lot to learn." Morgan lightly patted Arthur on the head. "If you're not careful, you'll end up offending people sooner or later."
"But you should still be grateful, because standing right in front of you is the gentle and kind Morgan. So even if you're not clever, she won't punish you." Morgan said with a smile in her eyes and patted his head again.
Arthur remained silent.
"Staying silent at a time like this is like a silent protest. Do you have any objections to what I just said?" Morgan reached out and pinched Arthur's cheek again, asking with a smile.
Although she was still smiling, this time it carried a hint of danger.
"No objections… I was just thinking about something," Arthur said softly. "Does King Uther still suspect you?"
Recently, Arthur had heard the townspeople talking about events in the capital. They said that most of the ghosts had been brought about by Vortigern, the king who once attempted to rule Britain. These undead had originally been dormant, but had recently awakened on their own and caused great harm to civilians.
"Of course. I'm a witch—who else would he suspect if not me?" Morgan chuckled. "Not everyone thinks as highly of me as you do."
She gently shook her head as she spoke. "Go back today and don't return this week, or people will grow suspicious. In any case, the liquid I gave you is enough for a week."
After finishing her words, Morgan turned her back to him, leaving Arthur with nothing but her solitary silhouette.
Arthur wanted to say more, but after looking at the palace, he restrained himself and silently turned to leave.
Before exiting the palace, Arthur paused and turned back toward Morgan. "Morgan, no matter what others think, I will always believe in you."
Morgan paused for a moment, then turned around, smiled, and waved her hand. "Alright, you may go."
After watching Arthur leave, she let out a soft sigh, her gaze fixed in the direction he had gone. It was a long, long time before she finally looked away.
Time passed unnoticed, and night fell.
Candlelight illuminated the sealed basement.
Morgan, carrying an oil lamp, slowly descended the stairs into the depths of the cellar.
No one would have imagined that such a vast basement existed beneath the palace where Morgan lived.
A faint roar reached her ears. The sound was extremely weak, yet it carried an undeniable sense of terror.
Morgan walked deeper inside, the roars growing closer and closer, yet she remained calm the entire time, even wearing a faint smile.
At last, she stopped before a cage, looked at the massive creature bound by dozens of chains, and said, "Good evening, Uncle."
"Morgan! Morgan Le Fay!" It was a white dragon—not particularly large, but possessing an overwhelming presence. It lunged desperately toward Morgan, yet the chains wrapped around its body prevented it from taking even half a step.
Vortigern, brother of King Uther, was without exaggeration the strongest man in Britain—or rather… the strongest dragon.
Yet at that moment, the white dragon of Britain looked as though it were on the verge of death. Its once-brilliant golden eyes had lost their luster. Even so, its majesty remained awe-inspiring. When it roared, a violent gust of wind surged forth, sending Morgan's hair flying. She wore a black dress and a pair of black high heels.
Even in the face of Vortigern's roar, Morgan remained unmoved, simply gazing at him calmly.
She was a goddess—the goddess of death. To humans, the power of the white dragon might be supreme, even enough to trouble the gods. But to her, the current Vortigern was nothing more than a tool she used to strengthen Arthur.
"Calm down, Uncle," Morgan said with a smile. "Since you betrayed Britain, you should have been prepared for this."
Vortigern narrowed his eyes, staring coldly at Morgan.
Vortigern, the elder brother of King Uther.
He had defeated King Uther, but before he could take control of the country, he was captured and left at Morgan's mercy.
This woman was no longer merely Morgan Le Fay.
Or rather, she had fused with the Goddess of Death, becoming a new existence altogether.
It seemed that no one else knew this.
No… If it were that mage in the palace, he probably already knew.
"Very well, very well. I'm exhausted from coming to a place like this so late at night. I'll return after collecting more blood today. Today was truly agonizing. I lied to someone who trusts me deeply, and that's quite unsettling." As soon as Morgan finished speaking, she took a slow step forward.
Then, exerting force with her right hand, she forcibly tore off a fragment of the Reverse Scale. The intense pain made Vortigern unleash a terrifying roar, and at that instant, the very ground of Britain trembled.
Vortigern's existence itself represented the will of Britain, yet now it had fallen into such a state. He glared at Morgan with resentment, as though he wished to devour her alive.
Clear blood dripped into the bottle, and Morgan silently waited for it to flow. The amount of blood contained within a Reverse Scale was extremely small, and it would take a long time to fill it.
Perhaps to pass the time, Morgan spoke casually, as though chatting with an old friend. "Don't worry. I won't let you die anytime soon. You'll only be able to die peacefully once that boy has fully inherited your power."
"So, for the sake of my plan, I'll have to ask for your continued support over the coming months, Uncle."
In the end, Morgan drew more blood, and Vortigern let out a piercing roar. However, due to the special barrier Morgan had created, his voice could not reach the outside world.
"YOU DEMON! YOU PERVERSE WOMAN! I SWEAR THAT ONE DAY I WILL KILL YOU!!" Vortigern roared, his voice making the land of Britain quake.
...
After leaving the basement, Morgan stretched and sighed helplessly. "Sorry, you fool… I was the one who did this."
The ghosts in the royal city were not, in fact, her doing.
However, the cause of Vortigern's madness was indeed related to her.
After all, anyone who forcibly tore off a dragon's Reverse Scale and extracted its essence would go mad from the intense pain.
This woman was an excellent actress. She hadn't truly been angry in the main hall that day; she had merely been putting on a performance for King Uther—yet she had even managed to deceive Arthur.
Arthur thought she was angry because she was being distrusted, never realizing that it had all been an act.
King Uther might blame her for injuring the messenger, but much of his suspicion toward her would be dispelled.
The only thing that had fallen outside the scope of Morgan's plan that day was probably what Arthur had said at the very end.
No one had ever told her the words "I believe in you." She realized then that Arthur truly believed in her.
But unfortunately… he would be disappointed if he knew the truth.
But it didn't matter. He would never know the truth… After all, there would be no third person who knew it.
"Don't let my good intentions go to waste." Morgan leaned against the headboard, her hair cascading over her shoulders, her black dress lifted slightly to reveal her legs.
She gently shook the small vial in her hand, and the translucent liquid inside shimmered with a seductive glow.
"Because of you, I was treated as a bad woman."
"…Though I've always been one."
(End of Chapter)