Merlin's Grand Magecraft

Spirit Tomb Albion.

When Leon had first built the new city, he had deliberately left a passage leading straight underground in a secluded part of the palace.

After Morgan sent the entire palace beyond the world, the entrance to the passage was left uncovered, standing starkly exposed in the brown earth.

Seen from far above, it looked like an entrance to hell, deep and dark.

After reviving Vortigern, Morgan took control of him and led him to the passage entrance. As soon as they entered, Vortigern struck without hesitation and cleanly eliminated Merlin's hidden clone.

Morgan was secretly alarmed. She had completely failed to notice Merlin's deliberate concealment. If Vortigern hadn't spotted and dealt with him in advance, Merlin could have ruined her plan at a crucial moment, and all her schemes would have come to nothing.

As Morgan laughed scornfully, Vortigern waved a hand. "I've simply figured out who my real enemy is. It's the same enemy you have."

Morgan, who had been walking ahead, stopped. Then she turned around, eyes narrowed and expression dark, and looked at the tool named Vortigern behind her.

"An enemy? You mean Leon?"

Hearing Morgan's calm words, Vortigern raised an eyebrow. He could sense the trace of madness lurking within her, yet he smiled and feigned confusion. "Isn't he?"

At that, Vortigern saw Morgan's face before him. She tried to keep her expression calm, but couldn't hide the deep flush of anger. She slowly raised her hand, then spread her fingers.

Squish, squish!

Vortigern once again felt familiar, excruciating pain in his chest and abdomen. His chest caved in, and his ribs pierced through his skin, jutting out.

He collapsed helplessly to the ground, spitting blood as he struggled to look up at Morgan. "Witch, what... are you doing... now?"

One second, everything was fine. The next, she'd changed her mind completely.

Her emotions shifted so quickly that even he was caught off guard.

"Who told you Leon was my enemy? He's my husband!"

Morgan furrowed her brow and stood where she was. In the dim light from either side, she looked at Vortigern writhing in agony on the ground with utter disdain.

"As his wife, I love my husband deeply. Even if he deceives me again and again, even if he's always been using me, I don't care. I'll accept it willingly, and I'll keep loving him, hopelessly, forever."

Who were you, an outsider, to comment on what was between Leon and me?

Besides, you, Vortigern, were nothing but a defeated enemy of my husband Leon, a failure who'd been betrayed and killed by his own subordinate. What right did you have to call yourself my husband's enemy?

"Know your place. You're nothing but a tool of mine." Morgan's voice was cold, utterly devoid of pity.

Vortigern was just a disposable resource, an implement she'd throw away once she was done with him. And he dared to make grand claims about having a common enemy?

Who did he think he was?

"Ha... ha... You really are a bona fide witch..."

Vortigern propped himself up and sat upright. Enduring the pain, he shoved his ribs back into his body one by one, and only then did he start to feel a little better.

He looked up at Morgan, his gaze filled with deep mockery, as if he were a madman without reason, his feelings twisted beyond all recognition.

So what if she was Morgan?

In the end, she was just a young woman caught up in love, a clown who deliberately hid herself away, afraid of what people might say.

The only thing that set her apart from ordinary people was the incomprehensible way a witch thought.

She went around professing her deep love for her husband, yet without a moment's hesitation, she rebelled against his kingdom and even sincerely tried to kill the husband she loved...

He couldn't make sense of it. Was this what a witch's love was supposed to be?

He didn't claim to be normal. He was nothing but a destructive device bent on slaughter and annihilation. But seeing Morgan's twisted nature, he couldn't help reflecting that his own humanity was still far too intact by comparison. At the very least, his reason and emotions were normal.

Come to think of it, it was rather pitiful that the Lion King had fallen in love with a witch so confused in her thinking and twisted in her feelings.

Thinking of the mighty Lion King marrying such a madwoman filled Vortigern with another wave of gleeful schadenfreude.

Hahaha, how delightful!

"You're right. I am the witch of Britain." Morgan nodded, accepting the title Vortigern had given her.

But seeing the mockery in his expression still irritated her. She reached out and clenched her hand at him again.

"Ugh... ah!"

Vortigern's uncontrollable scream rang out. His wounds had yet to heal completely, but Morgan forcibly made him stand. Blood poured from him, soaking the ground beneath his feet.

"Keep moving. I still have important matters that require your devoted contribution."

Morgan paid no attention to Vortigern's injuries. Controlling the newly made puppet, she and Vortigern continued down the path recently opened through the Spirit Tomb, deeper underground.

Ever since she had taken over the Spirit Tomb, Morgan had examined most of its general structure.

She roughly divided the underground Spirit Tomb into four layers.

The first layer extended about ten thousand meters deep. She had built her own Magecraft workshop there for research and exploration.

The second layer was a Vein Corridor stretching thirty thousand meters, filled with enormous Magic Circuits. Its defenses were exceptionally sturdy; without sufficient Mystery, one couldn't even damage them.

The spaces and nodes formed by these Magic Circuits were home to all sorts of Phantasmal Species approaching the Age of Gods.

The third layer was roughly divided into upper and lower sections. The upper section extended about twenty thousand meters and housed the Dragon Heart. The dragon bones surrounding the heart formed a barrier nearly as powerful as anything on the surface, while the surrounding strata were protected by incredibly sturdy defensive barriers. It seemed even a dragon's body could only advance as far as this point.

The lower section also extended about twenty thousand meters. It contained the dragon's head. The head was so far from the heart not because the dragon's body was that enormous, Morgan speculated, but because of the dragon's obsession. Even after its body had shattered and only its head remained, it had continued to press downward.

So many years after the dragon's death, she had even observed living tissue inside its skull.

The fourth layer lay beyond the reach of humanity at present. It was also the Fairy Domain she had long dreamed of reaching.

After they continued descending for a while, Vortigern finally felt his breathing gradually ease. The wounds within him had mostly healed.

He followed far behind Morgan, his gaze fixed on her with icy murderous intent.

He was the Vile King of Britain. If a thousand Magecraft spells hadn't been placed on him, how could he have suffered such humiliation at the witch's hands?

But when he thought of the main enemy he would soon have to face, and recalled the defeat he had suffered the first time they met, he forcibly suppressed his malice toward Morgan.

She wasn't his enemy!

Besides, in some respects, Morgan's goals aligned with his own.

Following the underground Great Rift deeper into the Spirit Tomb, Vortigern had no idea how far they had descended. He had once heard of this tomb, the place where a pure-blooded dragon had died while returning to the Inner Sea.

He could clearly sense the vastness of the Spirit Tomb, yet what he could perceive and see at that moment was less than one percent of it.

Though he was also called the White Dragon of Britain and counted as one of the Dragon Kind, there were differences even among dragons. Compared to the Last Dragon, the difference between them was nothing less than a chasm, like the gap between humans and apes.

Sensing that the earth of the Spirit Tomb was filled with things resembling Magic Circuits, Vortigern couldn't tell whether they were remnants of the dragon's remains or something inherent to the land itself.

In any case, Morgan hadn't damaged these enormous Circuits. She must have planned to use them.

"Since you intend to make use of me as a tool, you should at least tell me what I'm supposed to do next. Then I can cooperate properly and make myself useful."

"Heh heh. Vortigern, I like the way you're putting it now." A tool ought to know how to act like one.

Morgan kept moving and spoke without looking back. "Next we'll reach the third layer of the Spirit Tomb. That's where the Dragon Heart is. I built an altar there. You, the White Dragon, will have a role to play. There..."

After hearing Morgan's rough explanation, Vortigern nodded.

"I see."

He knew a little about Magecraft, and understood as soon as Morgan explained.

The Dragon Heart was a powerful reactor. Morgan couldn't activate such a powerful furnace by herself, and she planned to use him as the sacrifice on the altar.

Combined with the enormous Magic Circuits he'd seen, he immediately understood what Morgan intended to do.

Was this woman really going to go this far?

"We're here."

Morgan stopped descending, and the two of them arrived in a vast underground cavern. An exceptionally powerful Mystery barrier enveloped the area, which was saturated with unparalleled magical energy.

Vortigern couldn't see the Dragon Heart she'd mentioned, but he could sense that they were in an extremely sturdy place. No matter how violent an attack they unleashed, it wouldn't affect the outside world.

At the very center stood a newly built altar, engraved with mysterious runes and magic circles. A cylindrical stone block hung above it. All in all, the altar looked like a gigantic mortar.

Vortigern looked at the altar in front of him, his eyelid twitching. "Let me just ask..."

Before he could finish, Morgan waved a hand and cut him off.

"Get up there."

Under Morgan's control, Vortigern's body climbed the altar and lay flat at its very center.

He calmly looked up at the enormous stone pillar. He'd known he was going to become a sacrifice, but he hadn't expected Morgan's method to be so crude.

If you wanted to put it politely, you could call it classically inspired.

Morgan waved her wand. A mysterious chant rang through the empty underground cavern. The altar blazed with light, and the cylindrical stone block crashed down.

Squish!

Vortigern, freshly returned from the dead, had become Vortigern paste.

Blood flowed from beneath the stone block, filling the already-inscribed grooves and forming a mysterious, complex Magecraft array.

Morgan could barely hide her excitement behind her cool expression. At this point, half her plan had already succeeded, and she was quite satisfied with the ritual in which Vortigern had offered himself.

"Heh heh. You should consider it a blessing to personally experience the might of a pure-blooded dragon, White Dragon."

Magical energy surged and flowed.

Morgan closed her eyes, concentrating as she operated this unprecedented Magecraft ritual.

Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead. Her mind was more focused than ever, and she didn't dare let herself become distracted or careless.

[Dragon Heart activated, magical energy control complete]

She focused intently on manipulating Vortigern as the concept of the White Dragon. Using his sacrificed body as a key, she activated the Dragon Heart, that enormous furnace, turning it into an almost limitless power source.

Then she manipulated Vortigern's soul, casting it into the roaring furnace of magical energy. She used it as her own hands and fingertips, guiding the furnace's tremendous magical power and directing its flow along the route she had planned in advance.

[Enormous Circuits connected, magical energy flowing smoothly]

The enormous Magecraft Circuits long buried in the earth above connected to the furnace. The mighty flood of magical energy poured into them like water released from a sluice gate. The dormant Circuits were nourished by the energy and sprang to life at once.

In the blink of an eye, the entire network of Magic Circuits in the earth was completely filled with magical energy, which flowed smoothly through them.

[Base ritual underway, establishing the foundation]

Using Vortigern's will as an operating platform, she took complete control of the furnace and the Circuits.

Using her identity as the Lord of the Island, she manipulated the concept of Vortigern's will as the Lord of the Island. The operation of the enormous Magecraft Circuits served as the flow of energy, penetrating the earth that covered the great Circuits within the Spirit Tomb and infusing the land with magical energy, bringing it to life.

She used Vortigern's will in place of the long-departed soul of the Dragon of Albion, turning the mysterious barriers on its bones into load-bearing pillars that supported the earth. With that, the basic framework was complete.

The will of the island and the concept of the dragon combined, granting her complete control over the upper layers of the Spirit Tomb and completing the most crucial part of the foundation.

After a tremor shook the underground, Morgan slowly opened her eyes and wiped the sweat from her forehead, a hint of joy on her face.

"It's finally done."

Morgan had investigated the great Circuits on the second layer out of curiosity.

Why had the dragon chosen to pierce through the earth here and return to the world's inner side?

There had to have been some Phantasmal Species that had done something here beforehand. The dragon must have seen the traces they left behind and decided to dig through the earth at this spot.

The familiarity Morgan felt when she saw the enormous Circuits led her to speculate that the fairies of old had used them to transfer Fairy Land to the world's inner side.

If so, could she use these Circuits, reverse the spell, and pull Fairy Land back to the surface?

It was entirely possible!

Under Morgan's control, the island of Britain had actually stood up!

Rumble!

The ground shook like an earthquake.

Fortunately, it wasn't very strong and lasted only a short time. Before the people in the royal city could react, the tremor was already over.

There were no aftershocks, no large-scale collapses, and not even a single building in the royal city had been shaken down. There wasn't so much as a crack in the walls.

In the city, the British government had no idea what was happening. It simply followed routine procedure, sending troops to suppress the unrest and forcing the people to return to their homes. They were told not to go outside without permission.

The people grumbled about the earthquake, but they didn't dare disobey the clear orders. They could only stay obediently inside their homes.

Meanwhile, across the strait on the mainland, Merlin saw that Morgan's latest undertaking was an earth-shaking feat in the truest sense.

A feat that shook the earth and reached the heavens.

His face was pale, and every so often he coughed as he looked toward Britain.

A gigantic half-human body had risen from the surface of Britain. It had no legs, its lower abdomen joined to the earth, and a pair of arms stretched out from its sides. Its hands were embedded in the ground, helping support its weight.

It had no head or neck. The lush green fields and forests served as its skin. Its height pierced the heavens, and clouds drifted only as high as its chest. The Chalk White royal city sat atop its vast shoulders, while a hole had been gouged into the palace grounds, black and gloomy, plunging straight to the earth's core.

Faced with such a sight, Merlin had only one thought.

"Morgan... has gone mad."

She dared to go this far. Wasn't she afraid the Counter Force would erase her, or that the Lion King would punish her?

Merlin immediately sent Leon every detail of what he had seen, only to discover that an artificial god had already engaged Leon, keeping him from breaking away for the time being.

He couldn't see the Lion King fighting the god, but the devastation wrought on the local terrain by the shock waves of their battle told him just how intense it was. An ordinary person wouldn't just be unable to join in; if they were even caught in the shock waves, they'd be reduced to ashes in an instant.

With wolves ahead and tigers behind, he was in a dire position. And yet he'd been grazed by the black spear, leaving him gravely wounded.

When the Lion King gave him an order that sounded like both a delegation of authority and a plea, Merlin nodded firmly. "Aye, leave it to me, my king."

Given the situation, his usual carefree attitude wouldn't get him through this.

It was time to get serious!

As for having been grazed by the black spear, it was just a mortal wound. Nothing to worry about.

Looking over the situation in Britain, Merlin saw that Duke Luther and Sir Joe were leading troops to suppress disturbances in various places. Sir Lancelot and Kay had headed for the royal city after receiving his message, and were already close to arriving.

Merlin puffed out his chest. Everyone else was working hard, so he couldn't keep slacking off. In that case, it was time for him to show what he could really do.

Now making his entrance: the child of a human and an Incubus, the renowned master of raising heroes, the court mage of Great Britain, a Grand-ranked candidate for the world's strongest weapon, the flower's Grand Mage, Merlin—and the ultimate Grand Magecraft he had created, his alone.

"Artoria, it's your turn to make an appearance!"