She was already this grown up, yet still so reckless.
Samael chuckled and shook his head, putting on an unconcerned expression as he helped his little disciple up from his arms.
Having embarrassed herself in front of her respected teacher again, Gray's little face reddened until it was nearly dripping blood. Her legs pressed tightly together, her hands nervously picked at the hem of her gray cloak, and her head buried itself against her chest. Her ashamed, indignant eyes stared at the floor as though she wished she could find a crack in the carriage and crawl into it immediately.
Hmm, her fear of strangers had not changed either. She was still the same as before.
Samael watched his little disciple's embarrassed yet adorable movements from the corner of his eye, his gaze carrying faint traces of nostalgia and affection.
Gray was the grave keeper of Blackmoya Village, as well as the "vessel" Morgan had left behind a thousand years ago to resurrect King Arthur.
Back then, King Arthur Artoria had led the elite Knights of the Round Table into the Sea of Stars in search of the Holy Grail, which possessed inexhaustible magical power. She had sought to stabilize Britain's Age of Gods and build an eternal holy kingdom that would endure for a thousand years. Yet under fate's arrangement, everything had ultimately become an illusory dream.
Morgan, who succeeded her, could not support all of Britain's mystery, and as she struggled on, she became increasingly unable to cope.
To leave Britain and herself a sliver of possibility for the future, the Witch had likewise prepared a contingency.
As Britain's Age of Gods gradually collapsed, she secretly left the palace. Under the identity of the Druidic Order's high priestess, she entrusted the Magic Crest "Erosion" to the villagers living