At the Witch's home, the noisy courtyard gradually returned to a measure of calm.
Beneath the gazebo, Morgan took a sip of hot tea, looked up at Samael approaching from the gate, and asked mildly,
"Gone?"
"Mm. You scared him off. He said he'd consider it after seeing the finished product."
Samael glanced at the darkening night, folded his arms, and leaned against a wooden pillar, his reply carrying a hint of teasing.
Kay was a qualified older brother. In his view, the throne might not matter much, but if Artoria's safety was involved, he had no choice but to consider it carefully.
So, this deal could only be considered half completed.
Although the person in charge of Britain had not directly promised to help Morgan harm her own sister, he had tacitly permitted the openly conspicuous activities here.
Simply put, Kay still harbored reservations about Morgan and Samael's true intentions, but he was willing to try this new strategy of delaying Artoria's divinization.
After all, after decades of attempts, he had no other options left.
"You're the one who should have scared him. You actually secretly summoned the fae from the Nameless Forest to Camelot, planning to join forces and poison Artoria..."
Morgan glanced at the somewhat mocking Samael beside her, unable to resist raising a brow and snorting softly.
"I'm telling the truth. It's not as if your Druidic Order has never studied herbs and potion-making. Medicine is poison, and poison is medicine. Whether something is poison or medicine depends entirely on the healer's intent.
For serious illnesses, harsh medicine is needed. Medicine, poison, and disease—they counter one another. Artoria's condition makes her a severely ill patient; she needs strong medicine, fighting poison with poison.
And if we want to weaken the divinity on this Lion King, poisoning