Kellive quietly listened to the steady breathing beside him.
The ends of her long, wavy silver hair that had slipped down tickled the back of his hand.
He reached his arm behind her and gently pulled the blanket back over her shoulder as he whispered.
“Have your defenses loosened a bit?”
“Mmm…”
At her short, whining murmur, Kellive smiled deeply.
Until now, Morgana had been someone who rarely spoke about her inner thoughts. She gained a sense of security only through suspicion and transactions.
Kellive knew that doing so would prevent him from reaching her deepest places.
He was confident in waiting. His life had always been that way.
For someone who had held his breath among countless siblings, aiming only for the throne, this length of time was bearable.
Still, the impatience was unavoidable.
“Go inside and sleep, Morgana.”
There was no way the sleeping woman could hear his soft whisper.
Morgana’s small hand brushed against his gloved one.
Unlike his own hand, scarred in countless ways, Morgana’s hand was clean. She was small enough to fit in one hand, close enough that he could reach her just by extending his arm.
“I definitely told you.”
Kellive easily lifted the seemingly uncomfortable Morgana into his arms.
The sweet scent flowing from her small body nestled against his chest made his Adam’s apple bob.
His magic gathered the blanket spread inside the tent. He carefully laid her down and was about to stand when her hand grabbed him.
It was such a weak grip that he could have shaken it off easily, but he couldn’t.
Or rather, he chose not to.
He pressed a deep kiss to the back of her hand.
“Do this for me during the day, too.”
He pressed his lips firmly as if stamping them and whispered.
“I hope that when you need someone, the first person you think of is me.”
Slowly, like dye spreading.
Seeping in so that by the time she came to her senses, he would already be there.
With a hint of reluctance, he let go of her hand, carefully tucked the blanket around her, and left the tent.
Returning to his seat on the log, he frowned in discomfort.
The smile disappeared from his face as he stared at the campfire and muttered self-mockingly.
“The night is long.”
The surroundings were quiet.
Occasionally, the soft whining sounds of the horse and Mangeum sleeping could be heard, but the complete silence with not even a single insect chirping reminded him that this was Mount Badon.
The night passed, and it was late dawn.
The man who had been sitting still suddenly nodded.
Black smoke rushed toward him from behind his shoulder, only to be caught and wrapped inside the campfire.
Straightening his posture, he asked in a low voice.
“You send your master to the enemy alone.”
His tone was polite, but his voice was heavy. With a rustling sound from the bushes, Merlin appeared hesitantly.
She seemed rather irritated, as if coming here was unpleasant.
Merlin glared at him and shouted.
“Shut up!”
“Shh, quiet.”
Kellive raised his hand and placed his index finger to his lips.
“I don’t want to wake her from her sweet sleep because of a single pest.”
“You really are something. Clinging to her just because of her power.”
Merlin spat out sharp words one after another, clearly intending to provoke him from the start.
However, none of them dealt any blow to Kellive.
“Unfortunately, I’ve never once asked Morgana for her power. I’m not so lowly that I would hold on to her for something like that.”
There was no way to win a war of words.
Merlin had to make him hand over Tyrving somehow.
Unlike Excalibur, which could be stolen openly, this sword was far too difficult to steal.
As he casually adjusted his glove, a magic circle spread beneath Merlin’s feet. She quickly jumped to the side to escape, but the circle followed her as if it had predicted her movement.
To anyone watching, it would look as though Merlin herself was casting the magic.
Kellive continued leisurely, like a hunter chasing a rabbit.
“Morgana said she can’t stand seeing cruelty, so I let you go last time.”
Whoosh…
The magic circle suddenly disappeared.
For a moment, Merlin felt a pain as if her heart was being squeezed. She clutched her chest and curled up on the ground, trembling. His low voice continued.
“On the other hand, I don’t feel much when people die.”
He had killed his own siblings with his own hands. Merlin should be much easier.
To him, there was nothing easier than solving things with force.
Red blood flowed from Merlin’s twitching lips. Even so, she twisted her mouth crookedly.
Though distorted by convulsions, it was clearly a sneer.
“You stupid… bastard.”
The moment she finished speaking, black smoke instantly engulfed him from behind.
By the time he turned his head, it was too late.
Merlin smiled bitterly. Whether because it was dawn or because of her distorted face, it looked grotesque.
“There’s no way a curse… would disappear just because of a campfire.”
The smoke that had vanished with the campfire had now grown in size and swallowed Kellive.
At the same time, the magic squeezing Merlin’s chest was released.
Huff!
She let out a heavy breath and spat blood onto the dirt floor. Staggering to her feet, Merlin brushed off her clothes and frowned.
“Strong desires make one more susceptible to curses, you know.”
Thud, thud…
Merlin’s steps were so steady it was hard to believe she had just collapsed.
She wiped her mouth with her hand and gave a gentle command to Kellive, who had lowered his head inside the black smoke.
“Hand over Tyrving.”
Kellive felt his vision blur as the sounds of the campsite grew distant.
The hazy feeling was light and quiet, like being in a dream.
‘It’s a curse.’
The curse he had expected to be unpleasant felt surprisingly comfortable in both body and mind.
The distant sounds grew close again.
Beer mugs clinked, and the noisy voices of mercenaries rang out. When his blurry focus returned, he was suddenly standing in the middle of Raon’s tavern.
The loud noises and familiar faces were so vivid that he couldn’t possibly think it was a dream.
At the table where Raon stood, he saw the back of a silver-haired woman sitting on a single chair.
Morgana, who had been laughing and talking with Raon about something fun, turned around and waved at him.
‘Kellive! Come here. I told Raon you’re good with a sword, but he doesn’t believe me!’
Her hand pulled his arm.
Kellive let out a small, hollow laugh.
‘Really?’
‘Yes! Take out Tyrving and show him.’
Kellive slowly leaned down and whispered.
‘That’s strange. Raon…’
He draped his arm affectionately around Morgana’s shoulder and whispered in her ear.
‘He already knows I’m good with a sword.’
The moment he finished speaking, crack, Raon’s tavern crumbled into smoke.
Like a sandcastle, the entire scene scattered into the air in an instant and reformed the campsite in the dark forest.
When Kellive raised his hand, Merlin took a step closer, thinking he was about to hand over Tyrving.
“A mere puppet following a curse dares to… from Avalon…”
The moment she reached out her hand, she met his golden eyes head-on.
In the darkness, those terrifyingly fierce golden eyes seemed almost as if they were blazing.
A radiance could be felt.
It was so chilling that Merlin wondered if they were truly human eyes. Her whole body froze and she couldn’t move.
Kellive’s lips stretched into a long curve.
“How amusing.”
Flash!
The black smoke around him scattered and vanished all at once.
Unlike his smiling mouth, his sharp eyes were not smiling at all. Merlin muttered, stiffly moving her neck that had been frozen.
“I definitely cursed you…”
“Who knows. Are you talking about that crude curse that digs into people’s weaknesses and shows them only sweet dreams?”
As if under a spell, Merlin found it hard to breathe.
She clutched her trembling throat with both hands and barely managed to look at him with a pale face.
A seemingly gentle voice commanded her.
“Since you came here to die on your own two feet, I’ll graciously end your breath.”
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