Leon's Way to Break the Game

"Morgan actually succeeded in analyzing the spell structure of the Holy Spear?"

Merlin watched the surging magical energy in the sky, which piled up like a tornado to form a massive, inconceivable Water Mirror, reflecting the entirety of the land of Britain within its surface.

This was Morgan's magecraft—Water Mirror.

Within the Water Mirror, torrential magical energy surged, converging toward dozens of different locations.

Golden light suddenly erupted, piercing through the clouds to reveal spearheads shaped like spirals.

The light cannons from the continent streaked past, bombarding the island wantonly. Though the heat waves brushed against him, Merlin remained indifferent, merely watching the heavenly attacks descend upon the land.

"The industrialization of Britain that the King was so determined to push forward... it's over."

Merlin's eyesight had always been excellent; he easily discerned that the targets of those Holy Spears were precisely the factories, trains, and equipment built over the last two years.

It was a pity that his true body was currently in Europa, leaving only a mere phantom on the island; otherwise, he could have prevented the majority of Morgan's assault.

"I hope the King won't be too angry when he hears this bad news."

In Merlin's view, the Lion King was arrogant, looking down upon all things in the world with an equal sense of contempt, as if playing a sandbox game.

This high-and-mighty attitude of the King allowed his emotions to remain transcendent, detached, and stable; even if he were to flare up in anger, he would quickly calm down.

After all, to the King, a game was ultimately just a game. In this regard, Merlin felt the Lion King was quite similar to himself.

As for the ensuing situation, it boiled down to two directions: Rome and Britain. What would the King do?

He guessed that given the King's temperament, it was more likely he would resolve the Roman issue first.

"Since the King has personally entered the fray, I must also step up my efforts."

Merlin saw the mages on the continent assisting Lucius, even digging into their own deep reserves to help Lucius in an attempt to topple the Lion King, going so far as to cobble together a god and installing a secret weapon within it.

By the specifications of this god, it could not defeat the Lion King, yet his Clairvoyance could not see the true nature of that secret weapon, which was quite interesting.

Whether to gather intelligence for the Lion King or to satisfy his own curiosity, he had to go and see it for himself.

Before that, however, he should inform the Lion King of the current situation in Britain.

"Morgan!"

After hearing Merlin's account, Leon stood atop the giant dragon, gritting his teeth and growling, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his plate-armored chest heaved.

At this high altitude, the air was thin and the temperature freezing, with cold winds howling, yet Leon felt no loss of body heat. Instead, blood surged frantically within his chest, and a burning restlessness flowed through his veins to every limb of his body.

He felt as if he were about to lose his sanity.

How dared Morgan do this?

She was so bold, so rampant!

Not only had she betrayed him, but she had also destroyed all the technology and industry he had painstakingly built over these years.

It was simply incomprehensible!

Kill!

Slaughter her!

"Neltharion, head to the capital."

Leon issued the order immediately. The giant dragon beneath him seemed to sense the fury of its master; not daring to let out a dragon's roar, it flapped its wings in silence and banked, diving downward as if falling.

The frigid air brushed against his cheeks and forehead, carrying away some of his restlessness. The howling cold wind caused Leon's body temperature to drop rapidly, which in turn allowed his mind to regain a measure of calm.

He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.

"Hoo, stay calm, don't panic. What's before me is merely a minor loss... it's not a big problem."

A sovereign should not mobilize an army out of anger, and a general should not wage war out of resentment.

It was just that Britain's industry was ruined; since he could push an industrial revolution once, he could do it again—it would merely cost more time.

Leon prided himself on his excellent composure, using his ability to remain unmoved even if Mount Tai were to collapse before him to force his emotions to settle.

With a sharp command, the giant dragon beneath him came to a halt above the clouds.

Leon knew that the more critical the situation, the more one needed to be calm. Only by staying calm could he minimize his mistakes, see through the current situation, and find hope for a comeback.

Setting aside the Holy Spear, Leon sat down, the fire in his lungs exhaled with his breath, turning into cold mist that drifted in all directions.

Regarding the current situation in Britain: domestically, Morgan had rebelled and destroyed the island's industrial equipment; externally, the Roman legions were eyeing them like tigers, wanting to swallow the island in one gulp.

As for the domestic military, the naval fleet was completely wiped out—even with emergency lifeboats, at most half of the marines had survived. As for the army, due to Leon's orders, they had dispersed in advance, so the losses were smaller; at the very least, ninety percent remained.

But in the current situation, the number of troops was useless; only a few individuals could actually make a difference.

Scathach had gone to the palace to deal with Morgan, Merlin was helping him keep an eye on the movements of Rome, and Lancelot and the other knights, including his father and brother, should have moved to suppress the chaos and stabilize the situation the moment the rebellion broke out.

In other words, the only person who could play a decisive role was himself!

Leon realized that he lacked subordinates capable of handling such a situation on their own.

"No matter, for now, I alone am enough!"

To turn the situation around, one needed the strength to flip the table.

And Leon, he had plenty of strength.

With the industry of Britain now in ruins, Leon felt a sense of relief; he no longer needed to tread carefully to protect the island and could finally unleash his full potential.

To maximize his gains, Leon had to not only quell the rebellion led by Morgan but also dismantle Rome, which had already declared war.

Between the two, there was a necessary order of operations.

After a moment of thought, Leon decided: external threats first, internal issues later.

He would kill Lucius first. Once he had crushed Rome, it would not be too late to return and deal with Morgan.

As for Britain... since the island's industry was already ruined, it was of little concern to Leon; he would leave it to Morgan to squander as she pleased.

Everything was a tactical maneuver.

He did not need to raise Britain's national strength to a level capable of rivaling Rome; he only needed to ravage Rome's power until it was inferior even to Britain's.

That was exactly what he excelled at.

Slaughter!

Afterward, landing on Europa and unifying the continent would be as easy as turning over his hand.

With this change in perspective, the world suddenly opened up.

At this moment, Leon's emotions finally settled into true calm.

Facing the Rome that was about to be slaughtered by his own hand, Leon suddenly felt an inexplicable sense of exhilaration.

It was like playing a game with the privileges of a GM, or the playful mood Frieza felt when he revealed his 530,000 combat power.

To summarize in one sentence:

"Rome, your Emperor is coming!"

He picked up the Holy Spear and stood up, pressing his feet firmly against the dragon beneath him. Neltharion let out a knowing roar, as if responding to his thoughts.

He glanced at the Rhongomyniad in his hand. As for the dozens of Holy Spears Merlin claimed would fall from the sky, Leon was not particularly surprised.

That was Morgan, after all.

One could call Morgan evil, but one could never call her incompetent.

What the Morgan of the Lostbelt could achieve, the Morgan of reality could certainly do as well.

As a peerless genius mage of Britain, her excellence in the magical arts was as distinct as a crane standing among a flock of chickens.

Ever since obtaining the Rhongomyniad, Leon had practically never let it leave his side, swinging it about whenever he had a moment of leisure from state affairs. In the two years since his marriage to Morgan, she had had more opportunities to touch the Rhongomyniad than she had to touch his Holy Spear.

Given so much time, if Morgan hadn't been able to replicate the Holy Spear's technique, Leon would have looked down on her; he would have thought her talent was nothing more than that.

"My child, Artorius."

Morgan cradled her son in his swaddling clothes. The child was still too young to speak, only babbling and smiling up at his mother.

Seeing the child's smile, infinite affection welled up in Morgan's heart. She affectionately rubbed her cheek against the baby's chubby face, making him laugh even more heartily, which in turn lifted the spirits of Morgan, the mother.

She sat upon the golden throne that belonged to Leon, looking down from on high at the factories on the right side of the royal city, which were billowing with black smoke. She felt satisfied with her own handiwork.

After all, it was the Holy Spear technique she had spent a vast amount of time deciphering, and she had used the Water Mirror over the past few days to brew a massive amount of magical energy, destroying Britain's industrial equipment in one fell swoop.

"Hmm, still haven't found Mordred?"

She had sent out several clones. Now that Artorius had been found, she had searched everywhere for her daughter Mordred, but could not find her.

During the search, one of her clones had even been pierced and obliterated by a spear; she hadn't even caught a glimpse of the enemy.

"Mordred must have been hidden away by Leon in advance..."

Morgan rationally understood that there was no need to worry too much about Mordred's safety. After all, she was Leon's daughter and the Princess of Britain; no one would dare harm her.

Yet, with her daughter not by her side, she could not help but feel a sense of unease.

Through the consciousness of the clone, she had seen the crimson spearhead that pierced its body, and Morgan immediately identified the enemy.

"Leon actually sent Scathach back? Is he trying to use that old woman to deal with me?"

When Morgan mentioned Scathach, the corners of her mouth turned down and her face darkened, a surge of intense killing intent rising in her heart.

"That's perfect. I'll kill Scathach first."

She hated Scathach!

No, to be precise, she hated every woman, every female creature, that appeared by her husband's side.

Scathach had been brought back by Leon to be his teacher for the Rune Script, and Leon studied the runes with her every single day without fail, which only deepened the disgust in Morgan's heart.

If she hadn't always been certain of the innocence between Scathach and her husband, she would have poisoned Scathach to death long ago.

However, thanks to Leon, she had learned the runes early on through the fragments of his late-night mutterings. Even now, when Leon had yet to master them, she had already attained full proficiency and had even delved into deeper realms; she considered her own level to be not far behind Scathach's.

Taking this opportunity today to use the Rune Script to bury Scathach would be a fine choice.

Scathach was no longer a concern. Merlin's magical attainments were only half-baked—he would even bite his tongue while chanting spells—so he was no match for her either. Most of the soldiers would be busy suppressing domestic riots and guarding against foreign invasion.

The most troublesome factor right now was still Leon.

Morgan knew her husband's personality very well. Given the current state of Britain, he would likely break the deadlock in some unexpected way.

"It must be Rome."

Morgan was quite certain of her guess.

"If Leon has gone to the continent, the mages and Lucius there certainly aren't his match, but they can stall him for a time, which is enough for me."

Morgan intended to reclaim Britain and return it to the Age of Gods, turning it into a paradise of mystery; the arrangements for this would still require some time.

Her husband being mired in the battlefield of Rome provided her with the perfect opportunity to prepare.

Once she completed the plan she had been meticulously crafting, even if her husband returned, he would never be able to defeat her.

"Haha, how should I dispose of you then, my husband?"

Morgan held victory in her grasp. At the thought of her arrogant husband being defeated by a "weak woman" like her and trampled beneath her feet, a smug smile bloomed on her face.

When the time came, she would extract her husband's brain to imprison his soul, remove his internal organs to hang as specimens on the walls for her amusement, and refine his body into a puppet to stay by her side forever, never to be separated again...

No, she would leave his reproductive system inside him; if she felt lonely in the future, she could still take it out for a bit of pleasure.

Morgan subconsciously stroked her lower abdomen. Having been with Leon for so long, from the initial tearing pain to today, she had long since adapted to her husband's size and been molded into his shape; no one else could satisfy her.

"Hmm?"

Morgan let out a puzzled hum. She sensed that someone had suddenly entered the palace.

The entire palace had been layered with barriers by her, long since becoming her magecraft workshop.

The barriers within the palace interacted with one another, and combined with the various concepts she had imbued them with, it had become an otherworldly demon realm, detached from the physical constraints of the real world, having left the surface of the planet to become a detached palace caught in the seams between multiple worlds.

Now that someone had actually broken in, Morgan figured only Scathach could manage such a feat.

"I didn't go looking for you, yet you delivered yourself to my doorstep."

Truly ignorant of death.

To dare to trespass into the workshop of a grand mage like her—Morgan didn't know whether to call Scathach bold and confident in her own strength, or if she was specifically seeking death to satisfy her own desires.

Sensing the intruder, Morgan immediately extended her hand. Mana surged, and intricate spell circles appeared out of thin air. A dark blue void manifested before her, and she sent Artorius into it.

This was her most critical magecraft workshop, existing in a separate space where she conducted her daily research. She had specifically placed autonomous puppets inside to temporarily look after Artorius, who was still an infant.

After securing her son, Morgan gripped her massive, iron-black staff and sat on the throne, crossing her legs. A mocking smile curled her lips as she watched the purple figure enter the hall.

"My guess was correct; it really is you, Scathach."

Scathach remained in her signature purple attire. The moment she entered the palace and caught sight of Morgan, she immediately filled her eyes with killing intent, gripped her spear, and charged at Morgan.

She first hurled a spear, piercing toward the target on the throne, then assumed a lethal starting stance. Her figure lunged forward, vanishing from her original spot in an instant. Moving with such speed that she became a purple blur, the tip of her spear struck toward Morgan's heart.

Facing Scathach's lethal strike, Morgan felt the precision of her killing intent. Though she could not clearly see the woman's figure, she showed no trace of panic, not even raising a hand.

A blue vortex of mana, resembling a water spout, blocked the path before the throne, shattering the incoming spear and Scathach's subsequent attack.

When the thrown spear pierced into the vortex, Scathach's expression shifted. She immediately abandoned the surprise attack, gripped her spear, and leaped back over twenty meters, her expression tense as she focused all her attention on guarding against Morgan.

She could no longer sense the spear that had entered the vortex.

"Water Mirror Magic..."

Scathach had heard of Morgan's spellcraft; if her intuition was correct, this was it.

Morgan heard Scathach's mutterings clearly and wore a dangerous smile: "It seems you know of my capabilities. To have inquired so thoroughly, are you looking to replace me?"

"?"

Scathach was stunned by the remark, immediately understanding what Morgan was implying.

"No, I have no intention of stealing your husband."

"It matters not. Whether you have that intention or not, I will not let you go." Morgan's tone was calm. After speaking, she turned her gaze to the palace entrance. "How much longer do you two intend to hide, my sons who have betrayed their mother?"

Scathach cast a surprised glance at Morgan, then flicked her spear. Crimson Rune symbols emerged, illuminating the wide entrance.

The space distorted, and the transparent concealment barrier shattered like an illusion. Glistening mana danced in the air as two figures, one blue and one black, appeared within the palace.

Agravain and Gawain.

Morgan raised an eyebrow, watching her two sons with great interest, a look of "as expected" on her face.

"Mother, you truly have betrayed the King."

Agravain's dull voice echoed through the empty hall, his calm tone revealing a sense of certainty.

Gawain rested his hand on his sword hilt, his face expressionless as he stared at his mother on the throne without a word.