Author: Nikss

‘But why Lune, of all people?’

Oted probably has a clear reason, be it money or something else, but it shouldn’t be related to Agravain.

Especially since even if they were to destroy her sense of smell, it wouldn’t help strengthen Mordred’s royal authority.

Moreover, they could have easily used poison to kill her, so why go through the trouble of using a poisonous scent, which is difficult to make and whose formula isn’t publicly known?

What could be the reason they needed to destroy Lune’s sense of smell?

The crucial reason they had no choice but to destroy the sense of smell of a perfumer so sensitive and genius that she could distinguish the scent of divine power.

‘Judging by the fact they targeted her sense of smell, perhaps she smelled a scent she shouldn’t have…’

Morgana recalled the scent Lune had mentioned briefly before.

“Well, it’s… There was someone who wore a scent that was sweet but had a heavy base!”

Morgana, with her ordinary sense of smell, had never smelled such a subtle scent before.

But if it were Lune, she would accurately remember even a scent whose name she didn’t know.

‘That scent is the cause.’

If Agravain is truly behind this, perhaps it can be easily resolved within Britain.

If it’s a difficult-to-make poisonous scent, it could be easily deduced just from the ingredients.

After all, there probably aren’t many people who seek such things.

Morgana, resting her chin on her hand, muttered quietly.

“What methods are there to make a poisonous scent…?”

“Miss, shouldn’t we think carefully about selling poisonous herbs? Maybe have an internal meeting or something? Percival is still young, too!”

Raon, seemingly worried about selling poisonous herbs in Tir na Nog, cautiously peeked from behind and tried to dissuade her.

But Morgana, already focused, didn’t hear his words.

A list of poisonous herbs quickly passed through her mind.

Among them, the ones that could affect the sense of smell were eliminated one by one.

‘Ralteros is excluded because it’s ineffective unless it’s a fresh flower…’

That left three poisonous herbs.

Considering Lune’s sensitive sense of smell, if we choose one with little scent, only one fits the bill.

It was a poisonous herb that grows only in very small amounts under trees, in deep forests with humid climates.

As fussy as its conditions are, it is colorless and odorless and kills all the plants around it, so nothing grows near it.

Because of that, it was easy to find the spot where that herb had been picked.

“Lune, do you happen to have a pen and paper? I want to send a letter.”

At Morgana’s request, Lune quickly fetched a fountain pen and some clean paper that were nearby.

Morgana quickly wrote a letter there.

<Herzel, could you let me know if you see any trees where no grass is growing around them?>

Since Morgana had also given a magical tool to Herzel, it was simple—when Morgana placed a letter in the warehouse, Herzel would read it and send a reply.

There was no need to go through anyone else.

As soon as Morgana placed the letter directly into the magical tool, Lune asked with wide eyes.

“Is something wrong? Did I say something I shouldn’t have?”

“No. Lune, have you ever suspected Oted might be the one who made your sense of smell that way?”

Lune smiled awkwardly.

“Given how long we’ve known each other… Oted is a very hardworking friend. He wouldn’t do that.”

Morgana trusted no one.

Countless people would sell out their own family for money.

How could one possibly trust a friend?

Not having the heart to shatter her belief, Morgana pointlessly checked the letter she had placed in the magical tool.

Just then, perhaps because Herzel had checked it, a reply had already been placed there.

<I’ll look into it. Usually, poisonous herbs grow in such places, why do you ask? You’ve never asked about poisonous herbs before.>

Perhaps Herzel, having met people from all over the continent while serving as a priestess, might know, especially if it concerned a foreign young lady.

Morgana wrote a reply beneath Herzel’s letter.

<Do you know a foreign lady, not from Britain, with dirty blonde short hair? I was wondering if she might have obtained the poison herb.>

Herzel, who seemed to have been waiting for a reply, began exchanging written notes in real-time.

<I don’t know about a foreign lady. I do know someone who matches the physical description… Does she happen to have a mole under her eye?>

Morgana read the letter and asked Lune.

“Does that foreign lady have a mole under her eye?”

“Oh, yes. How did you know?”

A surprised Lune nodded, as if she had just remembered it.

As soon as Morgana sent the reply confirming it, an answer came from Herzel.

<Hmm, it sounds just like the priestess I met when I was at the temple. But that can’t be, because she passed away a long time ago.>

That time would have been when Merlin was the high priest.

It seemed she had used her soul, controlled by a curse, to diligently search for the Holy Grail.

Suddenly, Morgana’s shoulders trembled slightly.

“Wait a moment…”

What possible reason would Merlin have for helping Agravain, who supports Mordred?

Her prophecy from the very beginning stated that the one who pulled out Excalibur would become the King of Britain.

She had even given the prophecy that the one who marries him would be Guinevere, so if Merlin was advocating for Mordred to become king, the marriage would have been impossible from the start.

There was no reason for him to deliberately create a conflict within her own prophecies.

‘Is it not Merlin…?’

Morgana stared intently at the letter sent by Herzel.

Someone else was involved.

💫

Avalon’s office.

Sitting at the desk with Raves, who looked like he might collapse at any moment, Kellive smiled faintly and asked.

“Morgana?”

Gawain, standing beside the desk, frowned with a disgusted expression and replied.

“Please stop asking. It’s the same report every day, aren’t you tired of it?”

Upon hearing the news that Morgana, whom he thought had been staying in Avalon all along, had gone to Britain, Gawain couldn’t understand it.

As if frustrated, he thumped his chest and asked,

“No, if you were going to visit her every single day like that, you shouldn’t have given her the teleportation stones at all! You made them yourself and gave them to her, and now she’s gone straight off to Britain, hasn’t she?!”

If he hadn’t given her bunches of teleportation stones, would she have been able to go to Britain so easily?

He simply couldn’t understand, no matter how much he thought about it, why Kellive had personally given teleportation stones to someone who had already run away once because she disliked Avalon.

But Kellive ignored his words and urged Raves, who was smiling modestly like a cluster of flowers.

“So, Raves, what about Morgana?”

Gawain cut off his question again.

“Ugh, she’s probably running a tea shop in Tir na Nog or whatever, and dating Princess Guinevere! It’s the same thing with her every day!”

Gawain, whose patience was already at its limit, spat out the words explosively.

And for good reason—ever since Morgana left recently, his daily morning routine had been exactly the same.

Kellive would ask about Morgana, and Raves would compile the information he had heard about Morgana up until the previous day and recite it to him.

But the answer was always the same, so much so that Gawain, who didn’t have a great memory, could repeat the report verbatim without missing a single syllable.

Kellive knew this, too.

Each time he heard about this routine, always the same and utterly unremarkable, a part of his heartfelt heavy.

‘It must mean that such a routine is more comfortable for her.’

So he had to wait.

Until Morgana felt more at ease with him than with Tir na Nog. She had teleportation stones, so if she wanted to visit him, she could come to him anytime.

He would just have to welcome her joyfully when that time came.

But waiting could not have been pleasant.

So, Gawain seemed quite displeased with her daily pestering of Raves.

At this, Raves, for some reason, opened his mouth with a clear, delicate voice.

“Fortunately, there’s slightly different news today.”

He handed him a proper report for the first time in a long while and continued.

“The princess of Britannia has eloped.”

“Wh-what…?! With whom?!”

As a surprised Gawain gaped and asked back, Raves quickly continued.

“You know that knight who came as an envoy from Britannia.”

“Ah, that persistent fellow? Yeah, I knew it. I felt bad about him from the moment he smiled? But I didn’t think he’d sink that low…”

As Gawain rapidly nodded in understanding, Kellive grinned.