Sensing the immense fluctuations of magic power from the south, Mordred curled her lips into a smile.
Barghest had taken Sovell away. Without their commander, the soldiers of the other legions were insignificant compared to the rebel army she had trained. It was no exaggeration to say that, from this moment on, they held nearly half of Britain's territory.
Those fluctuations were probably Barghest's desperate attempt to break out with Sovell. But she alone had to face a full twenty thousand Picts!
The next moment, blue light flickered beside Mordred, and a silver-haired woman wearing a black veil appeared within it.
It was Morgan, the mastermind behind everything.
Mordred bowed slightly.
"Mother, I succeeded. My sword pierced his heart. He won't live more than another hour."
"You did well, Mordred. We must not delay. Take your personal troops aboard the ships and sail south now.
Gawain went on campaign with Arthur, Gareth remains unconscious from her grievous wounds, and Barghest and Sovell are dead. Agravain is the only one left in Camelot. I trust he cannot stop you.
In other words, the Royal City is now at its most vulnerable."
Mordred immediately accepted Morgan's orders, but she still had her concerns.
"Mother, you're working with Demon Creatures like the Picts. Once we've taken Britain, how will we deal with them?"
Morgan did not answer directly, merely hinting that she had other arrangements.
Mordred thought no more of it. She led her army aboard the ships prepared in advance and sailed south along the coast.
Yet the very moment Mordred departed, Morgan suddenly felt an inexplicable pang of dread.
It was as though wave after wave were crashing toward her.
But how was that possible?
She was Morgan (Morgen)!
The Guardian of the Sea (Morcant)!
Shock and fury surged through Morgan.