Resurrection

Next, he would have to face the army led by Lucius. Leon didn't want Neltharion to confront such a powerful enemy.

On one hand, it was too dangerous. He didn't want his only mount to get hurt. The dragon might be enormous, but in terms of age, he was still just a child. Besides, dragons weren't well suited to the modern world, so Leon wanted to give him time to recover and conserve his magical energy.

On the other hand, the spoils they had just captured needed guarding. Leon wasn't comfortable leaving the warship out in the wilderness. If someone stole it, he wouldn't even know where to cry.

After assigning the dragon to guard the warship, Leon strapped a sword to his waist, gripped a spear in his hand, and immediately headed inland.

"Merlin, tell me where Lucius is."

Leon waited a moment before Merlin's voice came through in his ear.

"My king, Lucius learned what happened at your camp and has personally led his troops out. If you head southeast, you should run into him."

Leon nodded to himself. The mages at the camp must have sent word while he was slaughtering the enemy.

"Those rabble have some ability, at least."

They had learned about the events at the front so quickly, and had responded by leading troops to meet him at the earliest opportunity. Of course, they had already assembled a large army, but Lucius had still reacted decisively and promptly.

Yet Lucius's swift response only made Leon more puzzled.

"Why would he still dare to face me?"

Now that he knew Leon could wipe out an entire legion on his own, he should understand that he couldn't beat him. Even mobilizing a whole army was useless. A numerical advantage couldn't bridge the gap in strength.

Lucius had united Rome in just a few short years. He could hardly be a reckless fool, nor would he do something so thoughtless.

So why was he still leading his troops here to die?

Merlin said with interest, "He must have some kind of secret weapon."

"A secret weapon?"

"My king, have you forgotten? I saw the mages on the continent pool their resources after pledging themselves to Lucius and cobble together a god for him..."

"He should know that even a god wouldn't be able to defeat me."

Leon knew what Merlin had seen and called a god. It was probably a mechanical construct, much like the Greek Machine Gods.

Even if they activated a Machine God as powerful as Zeus, Leon, wielding the Holy Sword of the Stars, wouldn't fear a pile of scrap like that.

"My king, you misunderstand. I wasn't talking about the god." Merlin's voice paused, then dropped lower, as if he were speaking of some forbidden secret. "I saw the mages borrow something from the Giants' cellar."

"The Giants' cellar?"

"Oh, that's Atlas Academy, a group made up of alchemists. They may not have Magic Circuits as excellent as those of mages, but they're better at using their brains than ordinary mages. I've heard their goal is to prevent the world from ending."

At the mention of Atlas Academy, Leon recalled that it lay beneath the Atlas Mountains in Egypt and belonged to the Mage's Association. It was one of the Association's three divisions.

No, it should be one of the Mage's Association's two divisions now.

The Clock Tower's foundation, the Spirit Tomb, had been occupied by Leon, and he had dealt with most of Britain's mages in one fell swoop. Whether the mages on the continent could continue to exist after this was still up in the air.

Still, Atlas Academy...

Back when he was a Master of Chaldea, he had visited Atlas Academy and even looked around inside. Its greatest achievement was a powerful weapon, created to prevent the world's destruction, that could destroy the world seven times over.

Thinking of the rules those alchemists had set, Leon suddenly asked, "Aren't the things inside Atlas Academy forbidden from being lent out? How did those mages on the continent manage to borrow something?"

"Haha, since you know about the academy, I won't explain it further." Merlin speculated, "There are so many mages on the continent, after all. Someone probably has a contract with Atlas Academy. Getting the alchemists to help wouldn't be difficult."

"So they play that sort of game, too."

Leon had never heard about the contract before. It gave him a familiar feeling, like Xie Yanke's Black Iron Order. No matter who you were, if you gave someone a proper contract, they would come and help you.

"What did Atlas Academy lend them? It couldn't be one of the Seven Weapons, could it?"

Leon said it casually, but Merlin fell silent.

"...My king, my Clairvoyance can't see clearly. But they've hidden it so well that even if it isn't one of the Seven Weapons, it must be something of comparable power."

Leon's steps faltered, then he quickened his pace.

The Seven Weapons were taboos whose very names had been deliberately hidden and sealed. Any one of them could bring about the world's destruction. They were ultimate weapons.

How could they be lent out so casually?

"My king, this is what worries me most right now. The Roman emperor must have a means of turning the tide of battle, or he wouldn't dare lead his troops here. Please be extremely careful when you meet the enemy."

"Mm. I will."

Leon nodded gravely. He was confident he had the absolute advantage, but he still couldn't afford to underestimate the Seven Weapons. Even he could be killed.

Watching someone else crash was entertaining, but he certainly wouldn't be laughing if it happened to him.

Still, now that he knew about it, he could prepare in advance. He wouldn't let his guard down or fall for a trick, and that so-called secret weapon wouldn't be of any use.

Leon asked about the state of his territory. "How are things in Britain now? What about Morgan?"

"Most of Britain is being pacified by Sir Lancelot and Lord Luther's troops. There shouldn't be any problems for the time being. But the capital... things are looking a little grim on Morgan's end."

Merlin watched closely. Seeing that half the royal city was gone, his expression darkened.

"Scathach, Gawain, and Agravain went to deal with Morgan, but she imprisoned them all in the palace. She then sent them and the palace beyond the world. For now, no one can stop her."

"Scathach fell for a trap." Leon frowned and hurriedly asked, "What is Morgan trying to do?"

"I saw Morgan take an artificial life-form out of her workshop. It had no soul yet, so it must have just been cultivated."

When Merlin first saw the life-form, he hadn't been particularly surprised.

But when he saw what Morgan did next, he couldn't help crying out.

"I saw it! It's Vortigern! Morgan wants to resurrect Vortigern!"

"But wasn't Vortigern's soul sent back to Avalon? His body was burned to ashes, too. How can Morgan possibly do it?"

At Leon's question, Merlin thought back to how Leon, distrustful of him, had asked Morgan to supervise the sealing of Vortigern. For a moment, he didn't know what to feel. It was both amusing and irritating.

When he told Leon what had happened, Leon found himself admiring Morgan a little. She had planned so far ahead, starting to scheme for today's rebellion two years ago.

Then a thought weighed on his mind: They already had a child together, and Morgan still dared to do something like this. He truly couldn't understand what was going through her head.

But Leon couldn't very well say that to Merlin. Wouldn't that mean admitting he'd been wrong?

All he could do was reassure Merlin. "So what if she can resurrect the White Dragon? Morgan and Vortigern still won't be a match for me."

Leon had defeated Vortigern in a single move. Later, one of Vortigern's own subordinates had betrayed him and cut off his head. As far as Leon was concerned, he was a dull opponent.

But Morgan couldn't possibly be unaware of the gap in strength between them. She was a devious woman, and she had to be planning some grand scheme.

"Merlin, contact Kay and Lancelot. Leave the pacification to Luther and Joe. Have them go to the royal city and hold Morgan and Vortigern off. If anything else changes in Britain, notify me at once."

"Understood." Merlin nodded. "Now that Lucius has left his base, I'll look for an opportunity to get inside and see what his secret weapon is."

"Then be careful..."

Leon's words abruptly stopped. His expression sharpened, filled with murderous intent.

"Merlin, this isn't as complicated as you think. All I have to do is kill Lucius!"

"My king, you—"

"Hmph. I see his army."

Leon stopped and looked at the army ahead, clad in Roman armor. A look of pleasant surprise appeared on his face.

Morgan frowned as she studied the life-form still inside the large cultivation vessel. It had no features or hair, no fingers or toes, just a crude human shape, like a corpse with all the excess parts cut away.

"The cultivation period was too short. It's still imperfect, but this will do."

She drew her wand and shattered the vessel with a single strike. The humanoid life-form spilled out with the cultivation fluid and landed on the brown earth.

Morgan paid no heed to the damage it had suffered. She immediately cast one magical barrier after another over its body. Then she swung her wand again, carving a complex circle into the ground with her magic. It glowed with a faint, mysterious blue light.

"Open, Utopia Not Yet Distant."

Gradually, the light beneath her feet blazed brighter, enveloping the artificial life-form. Its radiance dazzled Morgan, but she kept her eyes open and gripped her wand tightly.

Everything would be decided by this one attempt.

Morgan poured more magic into the circle beneath her feet, and the light grew stronger. From within it came a reassuring presence, stirring deep longing and an irresistible temptation in the heart, like a wanderer who had been away for years catching sight of a familiar scene from home.

But Morgan remained unmoved. Her eyes gleamed.

"Found you!"

The light slowly dimmed. Once it had completely faded, a silvery-white orb appeared in Morgan's hand, like a flame or a wisp of vapor. It gave off an ethereal aura filled with the desire to destroy.

"I finally fished him out. The rest will be easy."

What she held was Vortigern's soul, summoned from Avalon.

Back then, when Leon had wanted to seal Vortigern, he hadn't trusted Merlin and had turned to her instead. At the time, she had still been planning to usurp the throne. She had marked Vortigern's soul and secretly kept a little of his bodily tissue.

After all, Britain's White Dragon was a rare specimen.

As time with Leon passed, Morgan had gradually abandoned those dangerous ideas. She had lived like an ordinary woman, enjoying the happiness and warmth people spoke of.

She had thought she would never need those things again, but who could have guessed...

Now it seemed that the contingency she had prepared back then hadn't been in vain.

She had successfully summoned him using the mark on his soul, and cultivated the remains of his body into a complete life-form.

Today, those things would finally serve their purpose.

Morgan tossed the fiery orb from her hand. It stopped directly above the artificial life-form's head. She swung her wand again and again, inscribing spell after spell onto the orb until it gave off a blue glow.

She cast so many spells that even the orb's color was obscured.

Morgan breathed a sigh of relief. She had placed nearly a thousand spells on both Vortigern's soul and body, of all kinds, ensuring that even if he woke, he would never escape her control.

"Awaken, my servant, White Dragon of Britain."

Under Morgan's control, the soul gradually sank into the life-form below.

The life-form slowly developed distinct features. Silver-white hair emerged, fingers and toes took shape, and fingerprints appeared. A bowl-sized hole split open in its smooth, pale chest.

His eyelids fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes.

"Ugh..."

He abruptly sat up from the ground. Vortigern touched his head, then looked down at the gaping hole in his chest.

"D-did I come back to life?"

Vortigern remembered being betrayed by his subordinates and having his head cut off. After that, he had no memory of what happened.

"More or less. I brought you back to this world."

A cool voice rang out. Vortigern turned to face Morgan. His expression remained calm; he wasn't particularly surprised.

"So it's you, daughter of Uther."

"You don't seem surprised."

Morgan watched Vortigern with interest.

Vortigern remained expressionless as he replied, "In Britain, only Merlin and you could do something like this. And although Merlin is an Incubus, he still has enough sense not to do something foolish that would endanger Britain."

Morgan's expression darkened. "Are you saying I have no sense, and that resurrecting you was foolish?"

"Heh."

Vortigern waved his hand, his face somewhere between a smile and a smirk. His meaning was clear.

"Aren't you the Lion King's wife? Why would you resurrect an enemy like me? Have you two had a marital spat?"

"Silence. You wretch!"

Morgan reached out and clenched her hand toward Vortigern. His chest suddenly caved in, and ribs burst through his flesh, jutting outward. The ghastly white bones were exposed to the air.

"Gah... Witch, you..."

Vortigern endured the pain without crying out. Instead, he gritted his teeth and charged at Morgan with all his might, his hand held like a blade. He was about to run her through.

Morgan neither dodged nor flinched. A cold smile curled her lips as she watched Vortigern with mocking amusement.

"Gaaaaah!"

A shrill scream rang across the empty land. Vortigern collapsed, his body limp. He glanced sideways and saw that everything below his waist and both his arms had twisted into a bloody knot of flesh. But what tormented him most was the pain in his soul.

His soul seemed to be soaking in magma, or enduring a thousand cuts, as if his skin were being flayed and his tendons torn out. The unbearable pain was everywhere.

Vortigern's screams went on for a long while. Morgan listened with an expression of enjoyment, then finally stopped torturing him and looked pleased with herself.

"Well? Do you understand now how powerful this witch is?"

"Hah... hah... What did you do to my soul?"

Vortigern could feel that Morgan had placed binding spells not only on his body but on his soul as well. He examined them roughly and found at least a thousand, packed so densely they made his head spin.

Pain had drained the color from his face. His handsome features lay helplessly against the bloodstained brown earth as he panted. He was soaked in blood and sweat from head to toe, and he had no strength left to get up.

"Nothing much. Just a little trick."

Morgan looked down at the former Vile King. He was now lower than a stray dog on the roadside, forced to struggle for breath at her feet. A fierce satisfaction welled up inside her.

Once she finished remaking Britain, her husband would be the same.

"Vortigern, you did get one thing right. Leon and I have had a little disagreement."

Morgan turned and walked across the wasteland where the royal palace had once stood. A brand-new entrance there led underground.

"Come with me. I have a task for you."

Vortigern watched Morgan's back as she walked away. His body recovered against his will in an instant, and he followed close behind, step by step.

"Damn witch!"

Thinking of the man who had defeated him in an instant, and of the moment his subordinates had betrayed him, Vortigern touched the hollow in his chest and made up his mind.

So be it. I'll reclaim what I lost in that defeat today.