Chapter 176
Morgan was enveloped in flames as he passed through the mirror-like surface.
The lion closed its eyes tightly and retreated into Vina's shadow.
The information exchanged also returned to Vina's mind, and after a moment, her expression also became strange.
Arthur only said two sentences.
The first question is, "Where is Merlin?"
Morgan replied: I don't know what you're talking about.
The second sentence is, "I am now in Blanckug."
And Morgan's performance...
Thinking of Albion's well-known anecdotes, a mischievous smile slowly appeared on Vina's face.
Blanckug is currently celebrating Saturnalia, a festival for praying for a bountiful harvest.
Although there have been no more farmers solely engaged in farming on Blankog Island for many years, this custom has been passed down and has become a fixed festival for apprentices.
Because the apprentices build their workshops on sacred land, this festival custom can enhance the effects of the earth's veins to some extent.
The apprentices' actions unexpectedly mirrored those of farmers in ancient times.
As far as the eye can see, the apprentices, who are rarely seen except when they are holed up in the workshop, are now parading down the long street, carrying last year's grapevines and ears of wheat in their hands. After the parade, bonfires will be built in the fields.
According to ancient customs, the direction in which the smoke from a campfire drifts is believed to indicate where the land will become more fertile.
Mordred was wiping glasses in the tavern, where the apprentices always stopped for a drink when they passed by her restaurant.
Jingle.,
The wind chimes hanging on the door frame made a crisp sound.
"What would you like to drink?" Mordred asked without looking up. "The menu is on the table, take a look."
The guests gradually approached the bar.
Mordred slowly stopped what she was doing, and the moment she looked up, she saw a face she never expected.
Smack
A glass fell onto the bar counter and rolled down with a clatter, but no one paid any attention to it.
Mordred's face gradually showed shock and fear. "Father... no, Father, how could you..."
Arthur didn't reply; she simply looked around.
An invisible yet heavy pressure descended from nowhere, and the customers who remained in the tavern fled one after another.
Immediately, those burning golden eyes turned back.
Xiao Mo stood firmly in front of Arthur, but dared not look at her face. Instead, her gaze rested lightly on Arthur's shoulder.
Just two minutes after Mordred stood there blankly, a sudden clanging sound, like melting metal or clashing swords, rang in his ears.
"Good."
Arthur's pupils still displayed a terrifying molten gold color, but the dreadful pressure emanating from her had quietly subsided.
"During your time away from London, you have made some progress on the path of authoritarianism."
Father... praised me?
My father actually praised me?
Mordred almost lost his composure.
She was well aware of the reason for her progress on the Authority Path, because the Authority Path places the greatest emphasis on hierarchy and respect.
When I was in London, I had my father, the King, and my mother, and all my achievements at that time came from them.
How can one achieve anything when one is in a lowly position on the Authority Path?
The so-called Authority Path is such a terrifying thing; as long as those in power are willing, they can take 99% of the fruits of their labor for their own use.
Until Mordred arrived in Blanckug.
Although it wasn't as convenient as London, Hebe didn't exert any superior-subordinate pressure on her, not to mention that she was the one who had the final say in this tavern.
When there is no one above him, Mordred naturally makes progress on the Authority Path.
"What would Father like to drink?"
Looking at Mordred, who stood beside him with the menu, neither humble nor arrogant.
This time, Arthur's lips finally curved into a genuine smile.
That's good. It seems Merlin really taught her very well.
Thinking of this, Arthur was greatly pleased. "Since Mordred can open a tavern here, his bartending skills must be excellent."
Mordred proudly raised her chin.
She certainly has something to be proud of in that respect.
But then he heard Arthur's smiling voice in his ear, "Then, you shall bring me twenty glasses of special Ramos Ginfair, twenty glasses of water-cut whiskey, and forty ice balls, without a single froth on them."
"Hurry up, when Royal Sister arrives, I want to have a drink and a chat with her."
When the Water Mirror, burning with a bluish-green flame, opened, Morgan, dressed in a women's business suit and carrying a briefcase, stepped out and saw this scene.
Arthur was standing in front of the bar, sipping a glass of golden fizz in one hand, even the ahoge on his head had a slightly flushed red hue.
Mordred was behind the bar, chiseling an ice hockey puck with a pained expression.
A row of Golden Fizz and whiskey were placed on the table.
"It's been years, Royal Sister looks even more capable than before." Arthur turned and raised his glass to Morgan. "How have you been?"
Mordred listened intently as he chipped at the puck.
There must be a reason why the father suddenly appeared here, and there must also be a reason why the mother appeared in such a hurry.
The Fallen Empress sneered, took long strides, walked straight to Arthur's side, and picked up the water-cut whiskey.
Just when Mordred thought she was going to pour the wine over Arthur's head, Morgan picked up her glass and gently clinked it against Arthur's.
Both of them drank the wine in their glasses at the same time.
Morgan's cold cheeks flushed with anger, while Arthur's ahoge (cowlick) slowly turned a leisurely bluish-green.
"Since Royal Sister is willing to come to see me, she will probably no longer keep it a secret."
Arthur put the empty glass back on the bar and picked up a full glass of wine.
A hint of mischievous coldness crept into those golden eyes.
"Let's call Merlin out too, so that we, as ruler and subject, and sisters, can have a drink together."
Smack
Mordred smashed the half-carved ice puck to the ground.
Arthur and Morgan glanced at each other simultaneously.
The pressure from two pairs of eyes of different colors is equally immense.
Mordred lowered her head dejectedly and started chiseling the puck again, but her mind was clearly elsewhere.
"Yes," Morgan sneered, "But what makes you think she'll be the same as before?"
"Doesn't her not coming to see you already show her attitude?"
Arthur was completely unaware.
Or perhaps she knew what Morgan was talking about, but simply didn't want to answer it.
She simply twirled her wine glass. "I don't care."
"Then you can continue to 'not care'!"
Morgan retorted fiercely, slamming her glass on the table and turning on the Water Mirror.
"What are you still standing there for? Do you really plan to spend the whole day chiseling ice balls here?" Morgan sneered as he glanced at Mordred.
Mordred took a deep breath and followed Morgan.
Before she could contain her excitement, she heard Arthur's footsteps behind her.
Oh my god, my father is still following behind!
With Morgan in front and Arthur behind, Mordred felt utterly overwhelmed.
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Three colors of birds always hover in the sky above Blanckug.
When they returned, the sun was setting below the horizon, turning the entire sky a rose-purple and the ocean a passionate, sorrowful crimson.
Arthur stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the indistinguishable horizon between the sky and the sea, watching birds of three colors fly towards the clouds, thinking to himself that this was truly the cold and lonely end of the world.
The king, savoring the bitter taste, walked along the path paved with white pebbles.
She turned her head slightly, looking at the streetlights that had already come on, and her lips moved slightly, as if she wanted to say something.
Morgan was some distance away, turned around coldly and said, "Now that you've come all this way, what are you standing there for? Once you're inside, you can have your own thoughts on it."
"If you get locked out later, it's none of my business!"
Arthur remained calm, her hands behind her back, slowly following behind them.
As expected, Royal Sister kept her word. Arthur was a few steps behind, and the heavy door was already locked tightly.
Arthur raised her head, her golden eyes sweeping across the doorway, where she saw the same sentence written in five languages: Books are immortal memories.
Behind the door, Mordred looked on with some concern. "Mother, Father...?"
"What are you afraid of?!"
Morgan that his personality had gradually become kinder.
But for some reason, when she saw Arthur, an inexplicable anger rose up in her heart! Perhaps Hebe was right. If it weren't for her back then, she and Arthur would definitely have become Opposing Blades.
The Fallen Empress sneered, "Blanckug is a remnant of the former rulers, and there are at least three whose names you can name! The Silent Bookstore is a place approved by the gods and kings, and has all sorts of privileges."
Arthur did contribute to the construction of the Silent Bookstore, but precisely because of this, she could not go against her own old vows.
Have you not heard that a king's word is as weighty as nine tripods, and he never breaks his promise?
Morgan was making things difficult for Arthur, while Mordred felt a sense of fear and confusion.
'Three rulers? I only know that the Duke of Sighs is under my protection here...'
Outside the door, Arthur carefully examined the words, her hands pressing against the heavy metal door.
Without her exerting any force, the door opened automatically to both sides.
The four Golem Knights standing on both sides of the road lowered their heads almost imperceptibly.
Arthur put her hands behind her back again and calmly walked past the Fallen Empress and Mordred.
The three people's positions changed in such a subtle way that it didn't seem abrupt at all; it was as if it was meant to be.
"Let's go." Arthur's voice remained completely calm.
But both Morgan and Mordred could vaguely sense that grand, mountain-like grief.
Morgan stared at Arthur's retreating figure.
A vague sense of falling made her feel somewhat panicked.
The Fallen Empress quickly realized that this was a change in imagery; in the terms of Cathay philosophy, it meant a shift in the roles of subject and object.
But what surprised her even more was how easily Arthur had pushed the door open.
There is only one answer: Hebe probably already knew that Arthur would come.
Thinking of this, the Fallen Empress felt a bitter taste rising in her heart.
Arthur first entered the reception room of the tower in front of the door.
This place was mainly used to receive guests of low status who were not worth seeing immediately. Shoko once exchanged secrets of betrayal and conquest with the exile Texas —the current Madame Sicily —here.