Mass Release 5 Chapters!
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"Aslan, I need to confirm with you once more—your thoughts haven't changed, have they?"
Merlin narrowed his eyes, staring seriously at the man before him. He had to make absolutely sure of Aslan's stance. This time, it was Artoria who had come seeking Aslan on her own accord, so technically speaking, none of this was his fault. Still, if he could, Merlin genuinely wished he could sign another contract with Aslan—one that explicitly stated he must never, ever, try to seize Artoria's throne. Absolutely never!
Aslan looked straight into Merlin's eyes with equal seriousness. "Like I said before, becoming a king is an incredibly tiring job. It doesn't fit with my philosophy of living for pleasure. I've even returned the Golden Sword of Assured Victory—doesn't that clearly show where I stand?"
Only then did the tension ease from Merlin's face. "That's good. If you're still the same Aslan I know, then I can trust you."
At least in Merlin's memory, Aslan had always been a man of his word. That said, even though he said this, he still didn't want Artoria to get too entangled with this unpredictable variable. It was time to take her away—after all, her journey as king was supposed to begin now.
"Well then, I and—"
Before Merlin could finish his sentence, black flames suddenly shot toward them like spears. One after another, the dark lances embedded themselves into the ground at Merlin's feet. If he hadn't moved aside at the last possible second, he'd have been gravely wounded—if not completely immobilized.
Upon seeing the black flames, both Merlin and Aslan immediately understood who the assailant was—the strongest witch on the Isle of Britain: Morgan.
The moment Morgan appeared, both men wore equally troubled expressions. Truthfully, neither of them wanted this witch to show herself in front of Artoria at this time.
Aslan turned toward the direction the flames had come from. The witch, clad in a black dress, stood there, holding one hand against her cheek, visibly unwell.
"Professor Morgan..."
Aslan tried to rush forward to support her, but Morgan shoved him aside and slammed her staff into the ground. Flames erupted, forming a blazing cage that sealed Aslan inside the alley.
It was then that Aslan noticed something strange in her eyes—two distinct emotions. One was a warning, repressed and sorrowful, unmistakably from the Morgan he had come to know, the virtual personality that had accompanied him all this time. The other eye burned with hate and madness.
Morgan's consciousness was in disarray. The sight of Merlin and Artoria had caused the real, original personality—who had been dormant and slowly wearing down the curse inside her body—to forcibly awaken. After all, how could the real Morgan ever entrust everything to a mere virtual persona? She must have sensed something from the outside world.
And the moment the virtual personality saw Artoria, the most powerful witch of the island immediately recognized what Artoria truly was.
This blonde, blue-eyed girl was nothing less than a "Red Dragon" created through human manipulation. Even if the throne were to be passed on, they would rather hand it to an artificial being than to her?
Well done, Uther! Well done, Merlin! And well done, Arthur!!
The curse that had been slowly diminishing surged up again, as if etched deep into her very bones. The awakening of her true self caused Morgan to loosen the restraints on the curse's influence. Her original self, the virtual persona, and the festering jealousy born from the curse—all merged together, plunging her into chaos.
And now, caught in this whirlwind of turmoil, even Morgan herself no longer knew what she was doing.
What she did know was this: she wanted Merlin dead—immediately. As for Artoria, her feelings were complicated. Hatred? Of course. But reason also told her that the girl before her had already become Britain's Red Dragon, and would inevitably become King Arthur. The girl had already begun to grow...
That last shred of reason in her mind only made her more irritable, more unstable. The dissatisfaction boiling within her demanded an outlet.
Flames erupted again from Morgan's hand, surging toward Merlin. At the same time, she attempted to crush his heart with magic. No matter what, killing Merlin couldn't possibly be the wrong move!
But Merlin wasn't someone who could be taken down so easily. In her current frenzied state, Morgan couldn't pierce through the illusions he cast. Worse still, the rampaging flames began to destroy the homes of ordinary townspeople.
"Morgan! Calm down! You don't really want to destroy the homes of this island's residents, do you—?!"
Aslan pounded at the fire barrier with his forging hammer, trying to break through the magic that caged him. But the hammer merely passed through the flames harmlessly. It was a good thing it was the hammer—if he had tried to force his way out with his body, he would have been seriously burned.
Melusine, on the other hand, was far more decisive. She dashed into a nearby house, grabbed a bucket, and—with her incredible speed—rushed up to Morgan and dumped the seawater right over her head.
The freezing water doused her like a crashing wave, snapping Morgan back to partial clarity. She realized then that she wasn't in a fit state to keep fighting—nor to remain here any longer. She had seen the real Arthur King. She could already guess what had happened...
"Heh... Merlin, I'll remember what you've done. We still have a long road ahead."
With that, Morgan cast a complicated glance at Aslan. Then she vanished using magic, and the fire cage imprisoning him disappeared with her.
Once Morgan was gone, Merlin finally breathed a sigh of relief. He turned to look at Artoria with a slightly complicated expression.
"Looks like your royal sister doesn't exactly support you. You'll be facing many more challenges in the future."
Artoria didn't yet know how to face this royal sister of hers. But no matter how difficult the road ahead would be, she was determined to follow it through to the end.
"Let's regroup with Kay and begin our return."
Merlin twirled his staff and, after casting one last glance at Aslan, disappeared with Artoria amidst a shower of petals.
At that moment, Balin came rushing over, drawn by the noise. He looked around at the wrecked scene and scratched his cheek awkwardly.
"Aslan, buddy, what the heck just happened here?"