Heartbreak

Return Britain to me?

What a joke!

"Britain is mine! I am the master of this island!"

Morgan gritted her teeth, her exquisite face twisting into a mask of pure, unadulterated madness.

Under the push of Leon, factories belching black smoke were everywhere. The Industrial Revolution brought about by steam engines had begun; the last of the True Ether on the island had withered, mystery was further decaying, and the echoes of the Age of Gods had come to a complete end.

The Britain of today was no longer the picturesque land it once was. Instead, it was a hellscape of flowing sewage and gray smog, the air thick with a foul stench. Everywhere one looked, the land was dilapidated, no longer a place fit for human survival.

Morgan would never accept this!

What she wanted was the Britain of a few years ago... no, the Britain of the Age of Gods, where the air overflowed with ether, mystery flourished across the land, and beauty thrived.

Not this wasteland, ravaged and destroyed.

Defeat Rome and destroy the factories? Seize the continent and return Britain? She wouldn't believe a single word of her husband's promises.

Morgan saw it clearly now: her husband had never loved her; he had been using her from the very beginning.

He used her status as a princess to pacify the nation, used her body to vent his lust, and used her to bear his children. Every promise he made was a lie. All those delays were merely to keep her pregnant, and now that the child was born, he had revealed his true colors and kicked her to the curb.

Damn him!

All the years she had sacrificed for him, all the scorn and misunderstanding she had endured—what did that count for? What of her years of painstaking pretense and her genuine, heartfelt love?

Was it all just a joke?

Damn it!

"I will take back Britain, in my own way."

She would make her husband pay for every grievance she had suffered.

When Morgan met with her two high-ranking sons and poured out her thoughts, she expected them to stand by her side and support her methods, but to her shock, they met her with fierce opposition.

The air was thick with a suffocating tension.

After a brief silence, Agravain said in a low voice, "Mother, I cannot agree with your approach. With powerful enemies outside our borders, causing chaos now will only bring unprecedented instability to Britain."

Seeing his mother's face turn livid, Gawain hurriedly tried to persuade her: "Mother, Father loves you, and he will never go back on his word. It is just a matter of waiting a little longer; it won't be too late to restore Britain's environment then... why must you be so extreme?"

Gawain loved his mother; he did not want to see the mother who had finally changed for the better revert to her former twisted and insane self.

"You have betrayed me too?" Morgan stared at her two sons in disbelief, her voice raspy, sharp, and terrifying. "You are my sons, yet you side with that man Leon?"

Gawain immediately stepped forward and knelt before Morgan: "That is not true, Mother. I love and respect you, and I sincerely hope for your happiness... I just do not want to see the happiness you have now destroyed by your own hands."

"Don't give me that! This is betrayal! I raised you both, and now you dare treat me like this... do you two have no shame!"

Agravain also stood up to console her: "Mother, please calm down. Gawain and I have not betrayed you. We both wish for your happiness, as does Father. Please, I beg you to trust him."

"I see him for what he is—he has been deceiving me all along! I will never believe him again!"

"Mother, please try to calm your heart and think this through. Things are not nearly as bad as you imagine..."

Gawain wanted to say more, but Agravain pulled him up.

Seeing his mother in a state of hysteria, Agravain shook his head at Gawain; in her current state of madness, no one could reason with her.

"Mother, I hope you can clear your mind. Gawain and I will take our leave now."

Gawain glanced at Morgan, who was trapped in her own self-torment, feeling a deep, agonizing pain in his heart. With a helpless sigh, he retreated with Agravain.

Watching her two sons abandon her just like that, Morgan stood frozen in place, her face bloodless, filled with disappointment and cold despair.

"Agravain, Gawain, you really have betrayed me... betrayed your own mother."

After stepping out of the bedchamber, Agravain's expression remained unchanged as he spoke, startling Gawain, who was still immersed in his pain.

"Gawain, is this the mother you claimed had changed?" Was she not exactly the same as before?

Hearing this, Gawain lowered his brow even further: "Mother really had changed for the better over the past two years; everyone could see it. She found happiness in Father's love, but today..."

Agravain had been away for the past two years and had not been in contact with Morgan, so his impression of her remained stuck in the past.

But Gawain had been here on the island, seeing her every day. He had seen how well his father had treated her for the past two years—consistently and devotedly—and how happy his mother had been, her terrible personality slowly improving.

But who could have imagined...

Sigh.

"Father is not at fault here," Agravain said firmly. "You saw it yourself; this is all Mother's own one-sided, malicious speculation. Even if this leads to us crossing blades in the future, the fault will lie solely with Mother."

"But she is our mother, after all."

Gawain agreed with Agravain's final verdict, but the bond between mother and son was not so easily severed.

Hearing Gawain's sentimentality, Agravain remained silent for a moment.

Once they left the inner palace and saw the imperial guards on duty in the front hall, Agravain suddenly quickened his pace, stepping behind the guards.

Looking at a confused Gawain, Agravain rested his hand on the hilt of his Black Iron Sword, his eyes cold and piercing.

"Gawain, let me confirm one more time: do you also believe that Father is in the right?"

Gawain stood frozen, unable to comprehend where Agravain's killing intent was coming from.

Looking at Agravain's expression, he could only say, "You're right, I also believe Mother is in the wrong, but..."

"There are no 'buts'! Come with me to see Father now and tell him of Mother's intent to rebel."

"...Very well."

Gawain saw what Agravain meant; he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, and he could only nod powerlessly.

"Agravain, you remain as cautious as ever."

"The matter is of great importance; I have no other choice." Seeing Gawain agree, Agravain let out a silent sigh of relief, his tone softening slightly: "After this is over, I will apologize to you, and I shall submit to whatever punishment you deem fit."

Agravain did not want to make things so rigid, but for the sake of Britain, he would do anything—no matter how dirty or shameless—without a moment's hesitation.

Perhaps because his mother was the Lord of the Isle, she had taught him to cherish Britain. That education had been a success; he loved this land and this country from the bottom of his heart.

As long as one could lead Britain toward prosperity, he would serve them with equal dedication, be it the Lion King, Artoria, or even his own mother...

To him, they were all the same.

Now, under the leadership of the Lion King, Britain was on the verge of unprecedented prosperity. Anyone who wished to stir up trouble or destroy Britain at this time was his enemy, and he would never let them go.

Even if it were his mother!

"You two, you actually betrayed me!"

Witnessing the backs of her two sons as they departed, Morgan felt a surge of burning rage rise up after the initial sense of loss.

"Damn it! I am the one who gave birth to and raised you both!"

Back inside her magic workshop, seeing that no one else was around, Morgan could no longer suppress her emotions. Her eyes were bloodshot and terrifyingly savage.

She swung her massive black-and-blue staff, smashing the piles of bottles and jars in the laboratory into pieces, venting her fury without restraint.

"Damn it! Curse you!"

Beyond the anger, an endless sense of grievance welled up in her heart. Morgan felt her nose sting, and tears began to flow uncontrollably.

Since she was a child, her father Uther had betrayed her, intending to have her younger sister replace her. Merlin ignored her, and Artoria wanted to take everything that belonged to her.

And now, the husband she loved was deceiving and using her, and the two sons she had raised through such hardship had chosen to betray her as well!

Everyone betrayed her!

"You, are you going to betray me in the future as well!"

Tear-streaked, Morgan smashed everything in her sight. In the center stood a giant culture vat, and inside, a tiny point of blue light pulsed—it was the third child she shared with her husband, just finished being refined these past few days, ready to be placed in her womb for gestation.

But now, was she to give birth to yet another traitor?

Crash!

With a hateful strike, she shattered the culture vat, the nutrient fluid soaking the soles of her feet.

After her tears dried, she realized what she had done. She stumbled and fell to her knees, reaching out to search for the third child that had vanished into the unknown, but the blue light was nowhere to be seen.

Tears surged forth once more; she bit her lower lip and let out a low, guttural howl.

"Wuwuwu, my child..."

When Agravain and Gawain found Leon, he was exchanging pleasantries with Kay, who had just returned from Ireland, listening to him describe the changes in Ireland over the past two years and discussing the coming great war.

The time spent stationed away had made the once-frivolous Kay look much more steady, and he had cultivated the imposing air of one who had long held a high position.

Seeing the two brothers approach together, Kay took his leave.

After hearing what the two had to say, Leon recalled his previous argument with Morgan and immediately frowned.

He nodded to Gawain and Agravain and said, "You have done well. We are currently at war with Rome; the country cannot afford any internal turmoil."

Leon had not expected that when faced with this matter, these two sons of his would choose him instead of their mother, Morgan.

It seemed that he had done a decent job as their father and king.

"You two may withdraw. I will handle this matter."

After all, they were Morgan's sons; though Leon was cold-blooded, he was not so deranged as to force sons to turn against their mother.

Moreover, he did not believe the two of them would truly, from the bottom of their hearts, oppose Morgan.

After the brothers left, Leon first found Merlin, then Scathach; among those around him, only these two possessed the magical mastery to face Morgan without falling behind.

Leaving the two to wait outside the bedchamber for a moment, Leon walked inside and saw Morgan holding Artorius, her eyes filled with a mother's love for her child.

"Morgan..."

He called out softly. Morgan looked up, and Leon's face showed a trace of concern as he carefully observed his wife's appearance.

Seeing her face was calm, her emotions not as frantic as Agravain had described, the corners of her eyes slightly red, and her lips lacking the usual blue makeup—she must have just finished crying. The hem of her skirt was wrinkled, suggesting she had been kneeling on the floor...

Leon realized at a glance that his wife must have knelt and wept, and that her emotions had calmed after venting.

"Morgan, are you alright?"

Hearing her husband's concern, Morgan's eyes grew misty again, though she managed to hold back from crying on the spot.

"Wu, Leon, our third child... it is all my fault, my fault for letting my emotions get the better of me and..."

Upon hearing Morgan's whimpering, Leon understood exactly what she had done; she had simply vented her frustrations within the magic workshop and shattered the embryo inside the laboratory.

Though Leon felt a twinge of regret, he wasn't particularly heartbroken. It was merely a fertilized egg; he was still here, his wife was still here, and the raw materials were nearly infinite. They could always create another one in the future.

"It's alright, it's alright. We can just make another one later; it's no big deal." Leon took Artorius from the swaddling clothes, moved away from Morgan, and patted his wife's back with one hand to comfort her.

"Leon, I was wrong. I shouldn't have incited Gawain and Agravain, but once my emotions flared up, I couldn't control them. It was my fault..."

After the release in the laboratory, Morgan gradually regained her usual composure.

Recalling her recent actions, not only had her words been unseemly, but she had actually attempted to incite her two sons to rebel and even destroyed the third child that was meant to be placed in her womb...

Once her emotions calmed and she reflected, she realized she had lost control and fallen into an extreme state.

Yet, when the heat of the moment took hold, she couldn't manage her temper and only cared about venting.

Fortunately, no major disaster had been caused.

"It's fine. Both of them are sensible and wouldn't do anything wrong. Their refusal at the time was truly for your own sake, Morgan. Please don't blame them, okay?"

Leon hadn't even asked yet, but Morgan had already confessed and apologized on the spot. Her attitude in admitting her mistake was good, which made him feel much more at ease.

"Mm-hmm."

Looking at her husband who cared for her so deeply, Morgan nodded. Thinking of the promise he had made to her earlier, she felt she should trust him.

After all, Leon had never let her down.

Now, thinking back on the words she had said earlier, they were excessive. To force her husband to immediately destroy the ships and trains at such a critical juncture of the war was simply unreasonable.

Leaning into Leon's embrace, her thoughts swirling, Morgan secretly made a decision: she would trust her husband this one time.

"Leon, regarding what you said about Britain, I agree."

"Rest assured, Morgan. Once we occupy Europa, I will hand Britain over to you." Leon gave Morgan his guarantee. At worst, he could develop internal combustion engines later and move factories and trains to the continent; it wouldn't take much effort.

"Mm, I believe you."

Once she obtained Britain, Morgan had her own methods to revive the mystery on the island and restore the ether.

It would rely on the Spirit Tomb Albion beneath her feet.

A hundred years? Five hundred? Or perhaps a thousand? It was merely a matter of spending more time; she had plenty of time.

Leon held his wife, and seeing her look weary and drowsy after her outburst had subsided, he laid her on the bed, covered her with a blanket, and whispered, "Morgan, you rest first. I'll come to see you when I'm finished with my work."

"Mm-hmm."

Watching her husband leave with the child, Morgan's expression softened, filled with love.

Without realizing it, she drifted off to sleep. When she woke again, it was already evening. Morgan looked at the empty bedchamber, and a sense of loneliness surged into her heart, leaving her feeling panicked and lost.

Ignoring the advice of the maids beside her, Morgan insisted on going out to find her husband and child.

When she stepped out of the main entrance of the palace, however, she hit a wall.

A transparent barrier covered the entire palace complex. A faint scent of flowers drifted into her nostrils, and the Rune Script carved on the exterior shimmered with a dim light in the twilight.

Morgan reached out her palm, touching the barrier that blocked her path. Her expression dimmed, and she stared blankly, lost in thought.

She felt she should be angry, but now, she only felt immense sorrow.

She had loved him so much and trusted him so deeply, allowing herself to be deceived and placated time and time again, yet she still chose to believe in him.

She had chosen to trust her husband, but what had she received in the end? It was her husband's precaution and suspicion; it was her husband's renewed betrayal and alienation.

What was her husband afraid of that he couldn't trust her? To the point of even imprisoning her!

There is no greater sorrow than a dead heart, leaving behind only a self-deprecating scoff.

"Heh."