Why Won't You Love Me?

"Believe me, I have more than enough ability to persuade her."

In Old English, third-person pronouns were divided into feminine and masculine forms. The "she" Artorius used confirmed for Morgan le Fay that this prince knew the secret of her sister's identity.

"Heh heh heh, this is betrayal, isn't it? Is it really all right to conspire with someone like me, dear Artorius?"

"Father King's burden is far too heavy, isn't it? As his son, isn't it only natural for me to share his burden and fulfill my filial duty?"

"Heh, heh heh, hehehehe~ This is my first time meeting someone who could describe 'rebellion' so elegantly~"

Artorius amused Morgan le Fay. "But it doesn't matter. In the end, the one who will regret it and weep in sorrow will be my foolish little brother—so tell me, what benefits do you want from me, young prince?"

She breathed fragrantly into Arthur's ear, her seductive tone making Arthur think of many interesting things.

"Cooperate with me." While Arthur tried hard to tactically suppress his gun, he lowered his voice as well. As their temples brushed together, he conveyed his will.

"No, wait, this voice, this feeling..."

Just as Arthur was desperately trying to tactically suppress his gun, Morgan le Fay was tactically clamping her legs shut.

A peerlessly handsome bishonen who resembled the sister she both loved and hated by seventy or eighty percent, yet carried a schemer's air much like her own. His status, looks, abilities, and temperament—everything about him suited her tastes.

He was a special attack against saber-faces, a special attack against twisted-hearted wicked women yearning for love, and a special attack against mature, older beauties. All three special attacks combined into the peerless Artorius, the "pure white" Evil Dragon Prince.

Normally, dragons and princes stood opposed to one another. Dragons devoured princes, while princes slew dragons. But in an extraordinarily abnormal situation, when a "dragon" became a "prince"...

When sharp fangs and boundless terror merged with gentleness, salvation, sunlight, and every other word used to describe a "prince," the one and only "Evil Dragon Prince," Artorius Pendragon, was born.

He possessed both a dragon's plundering possessiveness and a prince's gentleness and passion. Their fusion was a lethal poison to women—more pervasive, subtler, and deadlier than any so-called love potion.

And, of course, more real.

In this mutual game of romantic probing, Morgan le Fay had been at a disadvantage from the very beginning.

Though her exquisite beauty and bearing greatly attracted Artorius, in the end, it was only because Arthur was lecherous. Replace her with another voluptuous, sexy older sister—some purple bba or something—and he would have fallen for her just the same.

In other words, Morgan le Fay had already lost.

Mm, yes, she had lost.

Without question, she had lost.

Morgan: "This scent."

Artorius: "Cooperate with me. Help me achieve my goal, and I will give Britannia to you."

Morgan: "This feeling."

Artorius: "As for something more specific—what I need you to do. Do you know the magecraft called Usurp Fate?"

Morgan: "This Fate."

Artorius: "..."

He stopped speaking with Morgan and even prepared to stop dancing, because he sensed that something was wrong with her state.

"Usurp Fate?"

Of course, Morgan came back to her senses the very next second, recovering from that intoxicated state.

She was no longer a gentle woman longing to be loved, nor a valiant woman skilled in battle, but the version of herself most often seen: a vicious, resentful woman.

"Yes," Artorius said. "You should know my plan and my grand ambition, right?"

"Rome." Morgan le Fay watched Arthur. "Everyone says that one day, you will start a war, destroy Rome, and take its place."

"That's right." Arthur did not hesitate. On the land of Britannia, far from Rome's control, he no longer needed to conceal his ambition.

"That's why I need your help."

Though he held no advantage in either age or build, the bishonen fearlessly took the initiative, reaching out and lifting Morgan's chin.

"I need you, Morgan le Fay, to join me. Fulfill my wish, and I will transfer to you the concept of Lord of the Island that I inherited from Vortigern. I will help you become Queen of Britannia."

For an instant, Morgan le Fay's heartbeat quickened.

"Then what can I do for the great commander?"

She said, "What exactly do you mean by 'Usurp Fate'?"

"The Mandate of Heaven."

Artorius released her. The dance continued. After letting go of Morgan le Fay's waist and allowing her to complete a turn, he drew her back into his arms.

"Before attacking Rome, I must obtain the Mandate of Heaven."

"Rome's Mandate of Heaven? You want to seize Rome's Mandate of Heaven?"

"No." Artorius then said something that surprised Morgan. "What I want to usurp is the Mandate of Heaven belonging to 'Francia'—the existence Fate has ordained to replace Rome, become the representative of the Germans, and become the master of Europe.

"I want its Fate. You can do that, can't you, Morgan?"

"I..."

If she could, Morgan truly wanted to tell Artorius, "Yes, I can." Then she wanted to throw herself into his arms without a care.

But she could not.

It was not that she could not get past the loss of face...

Well, actually, there was indeed some loss of face involved. But the greater reason was that Morgan le Fay could not do what Arthur had said.

"I can't do it."

She said, "That exceeds the limits of magecraft. It is practically a miracle. Even gods cannot freely transfer the Fate of a person, a tribe, or a country."

"You said 'freely.'" Artorius seized upon the keyword in Morgan's words.

"Can I understand that to mean that, provided certain conditions are met, you can do it?"

Author's note:

It's updated, la la la.

Please give me monthly tickets, la la la.

Wishing everyone a happy May 1st in advance, la la la.

Why Won't You Love Me

Under Arthur's gaze, flickering with the flames of desire, Morgan le Fay swallowed. Though she did not want to admit it, the truth was that, subconsciously, Morgan was at a disadvantage when facing Artorius.

Though unwilling, she still revealed Arthur's desire from her disadvantaged position.

"I can conduct research... but it would be best to find mages with deeper research into 'Fate.' The more top-tier mages we have, the better," she told Arthur. "Besides that, we need enormous magical power. And... you must completely control the target whose 'Fate' you wish to transfer."

"Enormous magical power won't be a problem."

Arthur's gaze flickered. "Completely controlling it... that won't be a problem either."

"As for mages with the deepest research into 'Fate'... do you have anyone in mind?"

"I..."

"You do, don't you?"

The distance between Artorius and Morgan le Fay narrowed further. It felt as though moving just a little closer would let him kiss her rosy lips. As though becoming just a little more forceful would let him pin this alluring, sexy aunt against the wall and ravage her body...

"Yes, I do."

Under such pressure, Morgan compromised once again. She named the person she knew to be most familiar with "Fate."

That was a figure who appeared in both Celtic mythology and Norse Mythology.

In this era after Ragnarok, when many gods had fallen and the survivors had fled into the Inner Sea of Stars, unable to return—at the end of the Age of Gods—that person was the best candidate Artorius could find.

A top-tier mage familiar with all Rune magic, named:

"Scathach."

Arthur looked thoughtful, wearing an expression that said, "Ah, I'm not surprised at all to hear that name."

At the same time, seeing the flash of desire in Arthur's eyes, Morgan le Fay felt jealous, though it had vanished in an instant.

This man is holding my waist and dancing with me right now, yet he is thinking about another woman.

This jealousy, something she could never have imagined feeling when they had first met, gnawed at Morgan le Fay's heart.

"Good. With her, that makes two."

At the same time, seemingly unaware of Morgan's thoughts, Arthur smiled happily and began considering other candidates.

The more excellent mages, the better.

With that in mind, he needed at least three candidates.

As for "ordinary mages," with the Evil Dragon Prince's current power, he could have as many as he wanted.

As the final brilliance of the Age of Gods, there were tens of thousands of mages within Roman territory. There would certainly be no shortage of mages Arthur could win over...

But when it came to truly "top-tier" mages...

"Merlin?"

That frivolous man was the first to come to Arthur's mind.

"That pleasure-seeker... I wonder if he would help. Fifty-fifty, I suppose."

If Merlin acted in his capacity as the National Teacher of Britannia, he probably would not agree to such a "dangerous" undertaking.

But if he acted as a pleasure-seeker, that Half-Incubus who loved watching chaos unfold might be even more enthusiastic about stirring up trouble than Arthur.

After all, when he had agreed to Arthur's grandfather, King Uther, to create an "artificial savior," he had been exactly like this.

"I'll count Merlin as one for now. But Merlin alone probably won't be enough. Hmph..."

Thinking this, Arthur considered another candidate. At the same time, Morgan, who had been watching him all along, immediately knew he had thought of another woman.

Damn it, this philandering bastard. I'm the one standing right in front of you! Her jealousy and resentment toward Artorius deepened.

"With that person included, that makes four."

At the same time, Arthur finished calculating and focused his attention once more on the woman before him.

"Very good."

Seeing that his plan had advanced another step, he was in a fine mood and flashed Morgan le Fay a brilliant smile.

"..."

It was something this woman had never received before.

She had never received it from her father, her sister, or any of her children.

She was clearly the eldest daughter, yet her father had always favored her younger sister. He had poured all his love into that sister and worked so hard to arrange for her to become Britannia's ruler.

She was clearly the eldest daughter. By rights of inheritance, she should have been first in line.

Even in terms of "Mystery," she had inherited the authority of Lord of the Island and was a child who had received blessings. Her rank was higher than that of an "artificial savior"!

Why had he placed all his attention on her younger sister? Why would he not give her even a little more love?

Then, after she had grown up, Morgan had once wanted to live lovingly with her sister for a time.

But she could not.

They were family. They were sisters. Even if they had not lived together as children because of family circumstances, they were still sisters. And she had helped her so much. But why, why would she not even look at her properly?

She did not want to be with her, did not want to accept her feelings, and did not like her. If that was the case, then she did not want such a sister either.

And those children—shouldn't children obey their mother's commands unconditionally? Shouldn't they obey her unconditionally, love her, and respect her? Then why, why had all the children gathered around Artoria instead?!

Just thinking about it ignited her hatred and resentment, which surged up without end. Then she would lose control, become furious, and want to destroy everything that foolish sister cherished...

Ah, no, not destroy it, but take it away.

No, that was not right either.

Those things had always been hers. She was merely returning them to their rightful owner.

This Britannia, this throne, family affection, friendship, love—she would take everything back from Artoria.