My Mom is King Arthur Chapter 20

Of course, besides that, there was also this.

What belonged to Artoria Pendragon was now whispering in her ear with a gentle voice:

"You did well, Morgan le Fay."

The one named Artorius, the King's Son.

"As our first collaboration, I'm quite satisfied."

A being that perfectly fulfilled Morgan le Fay's desires.

Whether it was the desire for emotion or the desire for revenge.

"I think we'll definitely continue to..."

Arthur's words reached this point and were forcibly stopped.

By a dagger thrust into his side.

Author's Notes:

First update of May, begging for monthly tickets, lalala.

Starting this month, I'll aim for three updates daily. Hope everyone continues to support this book!

Chapter 33: Still, Take the Initiative to Pursue Happiness

"Hm... huh...?"

Caressing the wound that was seeping a little blood, Arthur tilted his head and looked at Morgan le Fay with a somewhat strange gaze.

"I'm truly sorry about this, Prince."

The enchantress revealed a delighted smile.

"Compared to obeying your commands, being driven like a slave, and worrying every day about being heartlessly discarded by you, this is simpler."

Artorius pulled out the dagger. The regenerative ability of a Dragon Kind legendary warrior should have healed the wound instantly.

But this time, it didn't.

Not only did the wound fail to heal, it even began to fester.

Ah, before that, although Arthur was wearing a beautiful blue-and-silver noble's formal attire, that attire had also been magically reinforced, with defense surpassing ordinary fine plate armor. Yet the opponent's dagger had pierced straight through it.

The mage who made the attire had sworn to Arthur with a pat on the chest, guaranteeing it. Did he fear Artorius enough to cut corners, or was that guy not as strong as he boasted?

Probably neither.

The real reason was that the woman across from Arthur, named Morgan le Fay, was unreasonably strong.

"Poison."

"Yes, that's right."

There was no pain from the wound; instead, there was a slight numbing sensation. This confirmed the opponent's method to Arthur.

"Killing me won't do you any good either." As if the poison were truly taking effect, Arthur said this while clutching the wound, slowly backing up two steps. Then he sat down on a chair that appeared out of nowhere.

Though his expression remained restrained, sweat beaded on his forehead, and the muscles in his face twitched uncontrollably, proving he was enduring the pain:

"Why the sudden change of heart?" he asked. "What benefit is there for you in dealing with me here?"

"You can take a guess."

The other party continued to keep her distance from Arthur, not advancing, while black mist appeared around her and was transformed in the Shortest Time into a squad of fully armored heavy knights.

Amid the clicking of clockwork gears, even larger golems kept appearing... then gargoyles and wyverns in the air.

These monsters and Phantasmal Beasts nearly burst the originally spacious hall.

They were ferocious, evil, and wantonly radiating their terrifying auras.

Morgan le Fay seemed to have pulled out her entire arsenal, ready to take down Artorius at any cost.

"Heh."

Arthur let out two light laughs, then drew his Longsword: "You think these small fry can defeat me, Morgan?"

"Won't know without trying."

As her words fell, those monsters, golems, knights, gargoyles, and wyverns all charged ferociously at Artorius, claws bared, as if to tear the Evil Dragon Prince apart.

Ah, of course, they wouldn't actually kill Arthur.

Morgan's plan was to render Artorius incapable of resistance in this battle—that was enough. Enough for her to execute another plan of hers.

Though it was a whim, though she had only just conceived it, in an instant, Morgan's desire had reached its peak.

"You really are wicked, Aunt."

Artorius had no choice but to stand up, swinging his sword, cutting down all the monsters that pounced at him.

His swordsmanship was extremely refined, a fusion of dueling sword techniques and military sword arts, forming a style unique to him.

Such swordsmanship was perfectly suited for dueling single or multiple experts, as well as sweeping through thousands of troops. The heroic figure wielding the Longsword, and the dragon's ferocity displayed in battle, both made Morgan le Fay's heart flutter.

"Yes, yes, that's right."

She cheerfully replied to Arthur's words: "I am a witch, after all, my dear nephew!" while thinking to herself:

"I want this boy!"

Arthur: "Hmph, a witch."

Morgan le Fay: "I'm taking this child home to raise!!!!!"

The next second, Artorius let go of the hand clutching his chest.

He gripped his sword with both hands, and the mana around him surged to its peak at the fastest speed, driven by the pulse of the Dragon Heart.

As he cycled his mana so rapidly, the temperature within dozens of meters plummeted. Frost, cold as death itself, instantly froze every monster that had approached Artorius, turning them into lifelike ice sculptures.

In an instant, the area around Artorius became a desolate realm of silver and ice-blue. This stillness, this absolute cold and frost, spread swiftly outward from him. The terrifying reserves of mana made even Morgan feel dread.

"Wait, this is—how?!"

—It went beyond her understanding. Not even the highest dragons, the most supreme Phantasmal Beasts, not even Artorius's Father King, the Red Dragon of Britannia, nor the White Dragon Vortigern, who had granted Artorius such power, possessed mana this overwhelming.

And besides that, he had been poisoned by her—a poison she had carefully prepared, originally meant for her dear sister.

—If not for the fact that her "dear" sister had already obtained the Sacred Sword of Avalon, whose Scabbard could ward off all harm in the world, then Morgan would already be celebrating victory.

But, but...

"How shallow of you, Aunt."

Arthur smiled, the aura of the Evil Dragon Prince steadily rising. In his hand, Clarent gleamed with an ominous blood-red light.

"Don't judge people by old standards."

As he spoke these words, Morgan le Fay's castle had already transformed into the Evil Dragon Prince's domain of frost.

It was the reflection of Artorius's heart—the Reality Marble, Frost of Stillness—a technique born from leading his army through Europe's snowy wastelands, fighting endlessly against the maddened Germanic hordes, winning again and again and again.

A domain of frost surpassing Vortigern, the White Dragon of Britannia's northern lands!

"I've been improving all along!"

The frozen sculptures shattered in an instant, scattering into debris. At the same time, the warmth was drained from Morgan le Fay's body.

"My body—I can't control it!" She tried to scream, but found her voice stolen as well—touch, hearing, sight—Morgan le Fay was now completely at his mercy.

In sheer terror, one of the most famous and powerful witches of the age, the enchantress of Britannia, was subdued by Artorius Pendragon.

Servant Artorius Pendragon gains A+ skill, Reality Marble "Frost of Stillness."

Mom's Das.jpg

Author's Notes:

First update today, lalala.

Arthur's first yandere encounter. A twisted King-worshipper, or something.

Chapter Thirty-Four: I'm Not Interested in You

Artorius pinned Morgan le Fay down firmly. The blade of the magic sword Clarent, gleaming like silver frost, pressed against her neck. In the next second, it could sever her pale throat, cutting her beautiful head clean off.

The silent silver-frost world had vanished without a trace. The castle had returned to "normal," but all of Morgan's deployed forces—war beasts and golems—were crushed.

In contrast, the non-combat, weaker familiars had survived. For instance, the golems disguised as musicians were still playing, though their internal magical mechanisms had malfunctioned, producing discordant, broken tunes.

"Well, that really made This Highness break a sweat, Morgan."

He said to her cheerfully.

Morgan's poison had still caused Arthur considerable trouble.

Though Arthur's foundation had undergone a massive shift—from "Dragon of Britannia" to "Dragon of Usurpation" and "Evil Dragon of Europa"—and Vortigern's "White Dragon" had been refined through the German Black Forest into the "Dragon of Frost."

And though his strength had greatly increased after devouring many Germanic tribes, gaining the concept of "Ruler of Germania."

It still hurt.

A targeted poison was still a targeted poison. Even if its effect was reduced—like a lethal pneumonia downgraded to a bad cold—it still made him suffer, still made him ache.

Of course, he was long used to pain. Beneath his fine attire, his body was tempered and scarred. He kept all his "medals," except for the scars on his face, which he always erased.

Unlike Arthur.

The victorious Arthur could be cheerful. The defeated Morgan... well, even defeated, Morgan was cheerful.

"Hmph, heh heh heh..."

As Artorius laughed cheerfully, Morgan le Fay thought, "It wouldn't be so bad to be killed by him like this." After all, her life had always been a mess.

A messy life paired with a rather ironic death—that would be fitting for a witch, wouldn't it?

But it didn't happen.

Under Morgan's astonished gaze, his blade moved past her neck. Then, with a sense of superiority, Artorius kissed her fiercely.

Morgan only resisted a little, her body frozen by the Frost of Stillness now thawed by the heat of passion.

She grabbed Arthur's back, her ten nails digging in viciously.

"Don't misunderstand."

After that, Arthur's eyes flickered as he continued speaking to her in a pleased, condescending tone:

"This Prince has no interest in an old woman like you. This was merely a temporary measure to ensure your limbs wouldn't freeze off. After all, I still need you for my plans going forward."

In response to Artorius, Morgan slapped him.

Of course, before it could hit its target, Arthur caught her wrist.

Morgan le Fay glared viciously at the brazen man pinning her to the ground, spouting such nonsense.

He had stirred her up to this point, yet wanted to take no responsibility at all.

This man was a bastard.

Thinking this, Morgan swung her other hand at Arthur's face again. It was caught once more. Her kick aimed at his knee was also suppressed—in close-quarters combat, Arthur was utterly dominant.

"Don't push it, old hag," Arthur said to her.

The next second, the dagger that had stabbed Arthur's abdomen earlier was now in his hand. Without hesitation, he drove it into Morgan's body—exactly where Arthur himself had been stabbed.

The sharp pain made Morgan's body convulse. Her eyes flew wide open, and tears streamed down unbidden. Before she could scream, Arthur covered her mouth.

"Be grateful. The only reason you're still alive is that you're useful to This Prince. Otherwise, the punishment for striking me wouldn't stop here."

Arthur said this to her. Only then did he release his hand and climb off her.

"Ugh—bastard, bastard! I've never met a bastard like you!"

Morgan, struggling to her feet as well, condemned this disgrace to the knightly order with a trembling voice: "You, you, you..."