At first glance, she appeared delicate and fragile, the kind of person who would naturally evoke a protective instinct.
Surprisingly, however, no one seemed to pay her any attention.
Even Bedivere looked at her with a sharp, distrustful gaze.
If those under the curse had gone to the Caledon Forest, it meant her goal lay there as well. Morgana feigned concern, covering her mouth with her hand as if worried.
“Since divine energy can’t dispel magic, it seems we’ll have to rely on outsiders, won’t we?”
Gawain, who had been so eager just moments ago, quickly turned serious.
“Then let’s wait for the Mage Tower.”
The man who had been so enthusiastic earlier seemed to have vanished, now keeping his mouth shut like a proper knight.
Morgana tilted her head at his sudden change.
“Why? Is there no one who can dispel the magic?”
“There are quite a few mages in the royal palace, but this isn’t ordinary magic. It’s high-level magic, layered multiple times…”
Kellive raised his hand, cutting him off.
“I’ll go myself.”
Merlin opened his mouth to interject, but Bedivere was quicker.
“Will you take the knights with you?”
“No. I’ll just take a few from Avalon.”
“Do you think that’ll be enough?”
“A day should suffice.”
Even with the knights of Avalon and the holy knights mobilized, they had only ended up injured.
What could possibly be in that mansion to make him think a small group would be enough?
Morgana was equally concerned, but Kellive remained calm.
“You want them back quickly, don’t you?”
Gawain, however, interrupted the conversation, his tone different from before.
“Your Majesty, if you’re planning to break the magic…”
Ignoring him, Kellive turned and removed a cumbersome ornament from his clothing. He glanced at Merlin and nodded lightly.
“So, I’ll head to the forest. You’ll need to see it for yourself as well, High Priest. I trust that’s fine with you.”
It wasn’t a question but a statement. As the High Priest, he had to be fine with it.
Not waiting for an answer, Kellive casually removed the ornament and turned to Arthur.
“You mercenaries, take care of things here.”
“Don’t give me orders.”
Despite Arthur’s cold, sharp reply, Kellive smiled slowly.
“Let’s go, Gawain.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
As Kellive and Gawain strode out of the banquet hall, Arthur remained silent. He clenched his fists tightly.
Britain was a land where magic was rare. Arthur, who had grown up there, had nothing particularly remarkable about him beyond his ability to hunt down monsters.
Divine energy, magic, and powers—none of the things constantly mentioned around Morgana were within his capabilities.
Knowing nothing, all he could do was stand by and listen to others talk. In contrast, Kellive had the authority and the magic to act directly.
The arrogant king of Avalon even dared to entrust Morgana to him.
‘Dared.’
Arthur had never once thought of himself as lacking.
Ector had raised him that way, and he had taken down even the largest of monsters. But standing by Morgana’s side, he felt utterly insignificant.
“Are you okay, Arthur?”
Meanwhile, Morgana, her eyes wide as she checked his expression, seemed effortlessly skilled at everything.
Arthur, staring into her round, violet eyes, tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.
💫
“Why did I do that? Now Mother will laugh at the Fay family, calling them a mess.”
Morgause, having returned to the guest room after the chaotic banquet, paced anxiously, chewing on her nails. Duke Fay, pressing his forehead, shouted at her.
“Stop fidgeting and calm down!”
As soon as he finished speaking, he clutched his head with both hands.
“Ah, ah… Why does my head hurt so much?”
Elaine, watching the chaotic father and daughter, blinked and asked innocently.
“You’ve been saying it hurts since the middle of the banquet. You have powers, don’t you? If that doesn’t work, wouldn’t it be better to get treated by a priest?”
It was a naive question, born of genuine concern and the assumption that it was the obvious thing to do. Duke Fay gritted his teeth and replied.
“I already received treatment from the High Priest. And yet, it’s still like this. This is why powers are better than divine energy… Ugh, my head.”
Elaine shook her head, unable to bear watching Duke Fay, who had slumped over the table with his head in his hands.
“Should I call Morgana? After all, the power belongs to our family. It should naturally be used for the family’s sake.”
“No, it’s fine. It gets better after a while.”
Duke Fay, struggling with a headache, exhaled deeply, his face pale with exhaustion.
Morgause, watching him, frowned and snapped.
“You’ve never been sick a day in your life, and now suddenly you have a headache? Seems like even the power isn’t omnipotent.”
Though his power was weak, Duke Fay had always managed to keep himself in good health.
In fact, when Morgana had attempted to poison him, he had detoxified himself. His power was his pride and everything to him.
Hearing Morgause deny this, Duke Fay scolded her loudly.
“Don’t talk like that! Haven’t you already embarrassed the family enough today?”
“It’s not like I meant to do that!”
While the Fay family room was filled with loud arguments, the High Priest’s room, the largest in the estate, was eerily quiet.
Merlin, dressed in light clothing, sat in front of the vanity without a single attendant. Behind her, Nimue sat slumped like a guilty person.
Merlin combed her long purple hair, glaring at Nimue’s reflection in the mirror. Unlike her usual smiling expression, her eyes were colder than ever.
Nimue, under her piercing gaze, sat quietly with her head bowed.
Merlin asked her quietly.
“Did you know there was a bastard child in the Fay family?”
“…No.”
Her sharp gaze tried to gauge the truth through Nimue’s reflection.
“They have power. Did you not know that either?”
“…”
With a thud, Merlin placed the comb on the vanity, almost throwing it, and said,
“Good job.”
At her short, curt remark, Nimue’s head sank even lower.
💫
The Caledon Forest at night was pure darkness.
Dense trees, the occasional hoot of an owl, and the chirping of insects filled the air.
The humid atmosphere made the environment even worse. But Kellive moved forward with only Gawain by his side.
Gawain, who was leading the way, kept complaining.
“We need to bring them back alive. Why don’t we just wait for the Mage Tower’s support?”
“If we can bring them back alive, what’s the problem?”
“The problem is the precondition!”
“If we go to the Mage Tower and ask for their help in a ‘neutral zone,’ we’ll have to persuade them. Laves wouldn’t be able to handle that.”
It was a situation where someone had to go and plead their case.
If they sent Laves to the Mage Tower, he’d probably just come back asking what kind of wood they wanted for his coffin.
Even in the dim light, Kellive smiled brightly and shrugged.
“I’ll handle the mansion. Who wants to go to the Mage Tower?”
“Ah, those mages are too slippery with their words. I can’t handle them.”
Gawain replied as if he’d go crazy, scratching the back of his head.
It wasn’t a task for someone like Gawain, who had no way with words and only knew how to swing a sword.
Unable to stop Kellive, Gawain sighed deeply and placed his hand on a tree trunk marked with an X.
“Found it. I marked this spot earlier.”
Gawain turned to look at him and nodded toward the front. The dense fog made the forest look ordinary at first glance.
When Kellive reached out his hand into the air, the cursed sword Tyrfing quickly materialized from the gate.
With a single swing, the fog cleared along the path of the blade, revealing an old mansion.
Though there was no garden, its size and appearance were befitting of a noble’s estate.
“The concealment magic is top-notch. They know the terrain well…”
As soon as Kellive lowered Tyrfing’s blade toward the ground, he struck it forcefully into the dirt. The sword embedded itself into the seemingly empty ground. Simultaneously, a magic circle surrounding them glowed a deep crimson, revealing itself.
“Not just one.”
Kellive calmly twisted the sword, erasing the magic circle inscribed on the ground.
Crackling sparks of unknown origin resisted, trying to push Tyrfing away, but soon, with a loud crash, the magic circle shattered and disappeared.
Residual sparks flew up around the sword. For a moment, Kellive’s golden eyes grew calm.
Tyrfing seemed to hum ominously.
Kellive bared his teeth and removed the glove from his left hand.
Without hesitation, he sliced his palm with the sword. Seeing this, Gawain frowned and tilted his head.
“Ah, man… This isn’t it… Let’s just go kill someone.”
Tyrfing demanded blood whenever it was drawn. It didn’t matter whose blood it was—its owner’s or someone else’s.
Kellive let the blood from his palm drip onto the sword, his expression unchanged as he replied kindly,
“Morgana said to bring them back alive.”
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