Morgan's Tactics

"Quick! There should still be survivors inside the battleship!"

"Where are the mages and doctors? There are wounded here—come help them!"

"There are survivors beneath the battleship too. Giant troops, go lift it up."

The coast of France had once been an excellent harbor. That had been true until the King of Britain went to war with the Emperor of Rome. The Roman Emperor, Lucius, had immediately sent troops here, intending to launch an invasion of Britain.

They had received the latest intelligence: today was the day Britain's army would assemble, and Britain's queen would launch her rebellion as well.

Afterward, this army had been ordered not to cross the sea yet. Instead, they were to use the magic cannons aboard their flying battleships to snipe the Lion King of Britain. Even if they couldn't kill him, they were to destroy the military forces at Britain's coastal harbors.

At first, everything went smoothly. They had Britain reeling until the mages at the observation deck could no longer see the Lion King, and until a spiral of light suddenly descended from the sky.

Then...

The light pierced the battleship and brought it crashing to the ground, crushing the mages and soldiers below who had been keeping the magic flowing through the cannons.

The army descended into chaos. The soldiers had no idea what had happened.

Fortunately, the legion commander aboard the battleship was unharmed. After the initial confusion, he immediately stepped forward to organize the soldiers' defenses and keep watch over their surroundings. He also dispatched troops to search for survivors.

Just then, the mage assigned to watch their surroundings stared up at the sky toward Britain, his deep, mysterious eyes fixed on it.

"Stay alert! Stay alert! A divine-class magic source has appeared in the sky toward Britain. It's Britain's dragon and the Lion King!"

The mage's shout reached the legion commander, who was directing the scene. The commander instinctively licked the back of his hand, smoothing the white fur there until it shone.

His long ears perked up, as though listening to the wind blowing from Britain. Bloodlust flared in his eyes, and he immediately issued an order to the legion.

"All troops, attention! Enemies are approaching through the sky from Britain!"

The one who had shot down the battleship earlier must have been the Lion King...

The legion commander was the first to realize it. His black-rimmed eyes shifted with his head, and his crimson gaze fixed on the distant sky.

A black speck appeared on the horizon, growing larger and larger.

"Fire! Open fire!"

As soon as the target entered visible range, the legion commander gave the order. The battleship's cannons unleashed all the magic they had stored, firing three attacks in rapid succession. The increasingly prominent dragon dodged them with fluid, effortless movements.

Not enough magic...

The legion commander bared his teeth, his expression turning frantic in an instant.

The battleship's cannons had been able to fire without restraint because they were connected to the ley lines. Now, the mages who maintained the flow of magic from the ley lines were dead or wounded. The cannons had run out of their stored magic, leaving the entire legion unable to make an effective attack against the dragon in the sky.

The legion commander knew that his Mystery should be enough to harm the dragon, but it was too far away—beyond his range.

The dragon suddenly stopped in midair, its wings the only things still beating. Then it lowered its neck and opened its fang-filled jaws toward the ground.

"Whoo~"

It wasn't a magical breath. The dragon had merely blown a breath of air toward the ground.

In an instant, howling winds swept through. The defensive works, tents, soldiers, and mages below were all flung into the air, dancing like leaves caught up in an autumn gale.

Bracing himself against the wind, the legion commander saw what had happened and stared in fury. With nothing more than a breath, the dragon had wiped out nearly a fifth of an entire legion's strength.

Once the breath passed, the ground beneath the dragon lay empty. Only bare earth and sand remained, like a circular scar etched into the land.

Those hurled away to either side would have been better off if they'd died outright; at least they would have been spared further suffering. But those who had lost limbs and still stubbornly clung to life had to struggle through pain and despair.

Groans, screams, and sobs blended together, creating a scene straight out of hell.

So this is a dragon...

Before the legion commander could react, a figure leaped down from atop the dragon's head and slammed into the center of the circular clearing.

Boom!

Dust billowed everywhere, but it couldn't hide the newcomer's entire form.

The legion commander saw the imposing figure emerge through the dust. His heart lurched. Remembering the intelligence he had read about Britain's Lion King, he knew he was as good as dead.

The Grim Reaper had arrived.

Morgan sat with one leg crossed over the other. One hand gripped the staff resting against her throne, while the other propped up her cheek. She watched the three people in the hall with amused interest.

"Agravain, Gawain, you two came in behind this old woman, didn't you?"

Morgan made no attempt to hide the personal insult she had just aimed at a certain queen.

That was right. She had done it on purpose.

Scathach's brows furrowed at her words, and the murderous intent in her eyes surged. But she made no move, keeping her gaze fixed on Morgan.

She knew Morgan was a troublesome enemy and didn't dare let her guard down for even a moment.

"Yes, Mother."

Agravain nodded in acknowledgment. There was no way he and Gawain could break the barrier their mother had set up with their level of Magecraft. They had encountered Scathach before entering the palace and hidden themselves with the help of her Runes.

They had planned to follow Scathach and seize the chance to kill their mother, but they hadn't expected her to see through them at a glance.

Agravain wasn't surprised. His meager knowledge of Magecraft was enough to tell him that their mother had turned the entire palace into her domain. With her abilities, she had likely known from the very beginning that the three of them had infiltrated it.

Beside him, Gawain gripped his sword hilt and stepped forward, his face full of confusion. "Mother, why did you betray Father? He loved you so much. He even promised to grant you Britain as your fiefdom. You—"

"Shut up!"

A furious shout cut off Gawain's question, the high-pitched voice nearly breaking as it rang through the hall. Morgan straightened on her throne, her ample chest heaving as she gripped her staff tightly.

Her expression was hideous, and murderous intent surged in her eyes. After taking a few breaths, she finally forced herself to calm down.

"I don't want to hear anything about that man, much less from you two unfilial sons. You have no right to lecture me about betrayal! Leon arrived so quickly that day—he came right after you left. Hmph, you two were the ones who told him. You betrayed me and wanted me dead!"

Morgan had understood from Leon's words at the time. If she hadn't come to her senses in time, her husband would probably have confined her long ago.

But coming to her senses in time had only exposed her to even deeper hurt from her husband...

Gawain was at a loss for words, while Agravain remained silent.

Whatever else they might say, Morgan was their mother. Now they were facing her with drawn swords, prepared to kill her by any means necessary. No matter what she called them, they deserved it.

Agravain was all right; his expression was calm, and his heart was as unbreakable as steel.

But Gawain's feelings for Morgan ran much deeper. His thoughts had not strayed from the bounds of human decency. He knew he couldn't honor both loyalty and filial duty, but he still couldn't bear her knife-sharp accusations. He closed his eyes and lowered his head.

Morgan saw Gawain wavering and immediately reached out to him, speaking gently. "Gawain, my child, your mother knows how much you're hurting. If you stand by my side, you'll still be the son I love dearly. I'll forgive you for everything that happened before."

Gawain swayed at her words, almost taking a step forward. Agravain immediately stepped in front of him, blocking the way between him and their mother.

"Gawain, don't be taken in by Mother's honeyed words. Mother's gone mad. She's only trying to deceive you."

"Agravain, I know you have a lot against me. But you're my child too. What I just said to Gawain applies to you as well."

Seeing Gawain waver more and more, Morgan's face grew calm and gentle, and maternal affection shone in her eyes.

"I know how difficult this situation has made things for you. You don't know how to choose between loyalty and filial duty... If you don't want to get involved, you don't have to. This is a matter between Leon and me, after all."

Morgan's words immediately made the tension drain from Gawain's face.

His shoulders drooped. He pushed Agravain aside and, ignoring his brother's repeated, anguished pleas, walked toward their mother one step at a time.

"My child, your mother knows you're a gentle boy. Being caught in the middle must have been so hard for you all this time. But this has nothing to do with you. You're still just a child. If you don't want to be involved, it's all right to run away..."

Gawain's nose stung, and he could no longer hold back. His tear-filled eyes gave way, and tears spilled from his reddened eyes, running down his cheeks. In an instant, his face was wet with tears.

"Mother..."

"My good boy..."

Now's my chance!

Morgan's expression changed in an instant, turning triumphant and vicious. The three people in the hall saw it, and murderous intent erupted from her in a flash.

The spell formations prepared in advance on the ceiling of the hall lit up with a crystalline blue glow, shedding their concealment and revealing themselves. Magic surged through them, forming countless blue-green spears that all took aim at the three people in the hall. The attack struck in an instant.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The long-planned attack came crashing down. The rumble echoed through the hall as pale gray dust billowed up, and the hazy figures of her two sons slowly fell to the ground.

Seeing this, Morgan could no longer hold back her excitement. She let out a triumphant, raucous laugh.

"Hahahaha! My dear sons, now you know what it feels like to be betray—Pah!"

Before Morgan could finish speaking, a sudden, intense pain pierced her chest. A chill drove into her body, and all strength left her at once.

Blood ran from her mouth down her pale neck, staining the black clothes across her chest a vivid red. Her head drooped helplessly. A crimson spear had pierced her body, pinning her to the throne.

"Good opportunity."

Scathach's form, gripping the spear, slowly appeared before the throne. Her cold words sounded like the greatest mockery of Morgan.

Shick! Shick!

Two more flashes of cold light streaked past, followed by the sound of blades piercing flesh.

The two swords embedded in her abdomen were so familiar. Morgan struggled to raise her head and looked at the figures on either side of the spear, one black and one blue.

Agravain's expression was still as calm and stern as ever, while Gawain's face was stricken with grief, tears streaming down his cheeks. The sorrow on his face, half of it stained red with blood, seemed so ridiculous to Morgan.

"You too... Gawain..."

Agravain looked fierce enough to be a villain at a glance, but what Morgan hadn't expected was that Gawain, who had always been so pure-hearted, would have the heart to try to kill his own mother.

Gawain looked up at Morgan, his expression so earnest he barely dared to blink, as though he wanted to etch his mother's face into his memory forever.

"...I'm sorry, Mother."

Compared to Gawain's sorrow and tears, Agravain was far more composed. After thrusting his sword into Morgan, the expression on his face had visibly relaxed.

"Things went a little differently from the plan, but the final result isn't much different."

"Plan...? You..."

Morgan spat out another mouthful of blood, but paid it no mind. She stared straight at Agravain, as though demanding an explanation.

"You... intended to kill me from the start. Gawain's wavering... was also a plan you came up with specifically to kill me?"

"That's right."

Gawain turned his face away, unable to look at his mother.

Morgan's chin quivered. Then she clenched her teeth, holding on to the last of her pride, and gave a pained smile. "But I'm your... mother!"

"But you just tried to kill us too."

Thinking back to their mother's surprise attack, Agravain answered without the slightest courtesy.

That attack had practically been his mother's instant-kill critical hit. If he and Gawain hadn't planned their act in advance, kept themselves on edge, and stayed carefully on guard, the two of them would have been sent to Avalon at such a young age.

He had always known how insane and cruel his mother could be, and had never trusted anything she said. But he hadn't expected her attack to be so decisive, even against her own sons.

"Looks like I... brought this on myself. Come to think of it..." Morgan's face took on a different look, gentle yet full of regret. "Before I knew it... you two had grown so big. I... really was an unfit mother."

"..."

Words spoken on the verge of death were always kind. Scathach turned her face away so she wouldn't have to look at Morgan.

Gawain was already in tears. Now he was sobbing so hard he could barely breathe, his body starting to convulse.

Even Agravain, hard-hearted as he was, felt his eyes redden at their mother's words.

"There are two more things... Gawain, Agravain, I want to ask you..."

Morgan reached out with her bloodstained hand, trying to touch her sons' faces, but she couldn't reach them. In the end, it fell limply back down.

"First... I couldn't find Mordred... Did you hide her? I'm worried about her."

Gawain opened his mouth, but his sobs grew into convulsions, and he couldn't speak. He looked toward Agravain.

Agravain sighed and shook his head at their mother.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I couldn't find her either."

Morgan's expression darkened. She murmured to comfort herself. "Then... Leon must have taken her away to protect her."

At that moment, Agravain could hardly bring himself to look at his mother.

Guilt welled up without end, and remorse threatened to drown him. He had never imagined that he would still be lying to her in her final moments...

His mother had asked the wrong person. Mordred had indeed been hidden away by him.

After they returned to Britain proper, Leon had seen how well he handled administrative affairs and appointed him to oversee the supply lines for the entire army. As a result, he hadn't attended the earlier oath-taking ceremony either, staying behind in the royal city instead.

Before Leon left for the military camp, he had specifically told Agravain to keep an eye on Morgan and protect Mordred and Artorius.

When the upheaval began, he had immediately separated the prince and princess to protect them. But he hadn't expected his mother to act so quickly. In almost no time, she had found Artorius, killed the guards, and taken the prince away.

As soon as the news reached him, he entrusted Mordred to someone he could trust. Then he went to the palace himself to face his mother, hoping to get Artorius back.

On the way, he first ran into Gawain, who was returning, and then saw Scathach outside the palace gates, trying to break the barrier. After discussing their plan, the three of them stormed the palace.

Agravain turned his head away, ignoring the strange looks from Scathach and Gawain. He guessed that what their mother had to say next would be about Artorius.

Sure enough, he heard their mother say weakly, "The second thing... is Artorius. He..."

Morgan's words had completely lost their strength.

Agravain hurriedly pressed her. "Where is Artorius, Mother?"

"I'm not going to tell you."

A strong, powerful voice—cool and clear, just like Morgan's—came from behind the three of them, echoing through the vast hall.

Scathach and the two brothers immediately turned around and saw Morgan standing unharmed at the palace entrance.

She held an enormous black-iron staff shaped like a spear or halberd, lightly touching its end to the marble floor. It rang out crisply.

Clang!

"I had just enough time to set up the seal, but unfortunately, I didn't get Mordred's whereabouts out of her."