Chapter 6: You Will Become a Despicable Blade
Every word Morgan spoke was etched into your heart.
Although you had never seen the King of Betrayal, Vortigern, judging by how he and his army could rampage across Britain, he was no ordinary foe.
You realized this was a mission with no chance of success.
Morgan's actions were no different from sending you to your death.
However, even realizing this, Ian did not hesitate.
His only response to Morgan was a brief sentence:
"I understand, Princess."
Morgan looked at Ian kneeling before her, and a rare display of emotion flickered in her sapphire eyes.
But there was still no hint of affection, only confusion.
"Ian, do you think you can do such a thing?"
"No." Ian shook his head. "Although I have never seen Vortigern, I know he will be a powerful enemy."
"Then why don't you refuse me?"
"No knight would refuse a command from the one to whom he swore allegiance," Ian replied without hesitation.
"Princess, I am no exception."
"But what if you never return?" Morgan looked at the knight kneeling before her.
"Then I shall never return."
Morgan fell silent.
She had intended to do the opposite, to mock your cowardice to make you strive to accept this task, but she had never expected you to be far more loyal than she had imagined.
You didn't even ask what you were supposed to do before readily agreeing.
She chose to trust your loyalty. This was the first time she had done so.
"Come with me, Ian."
Morgan stood up.
"I permit you to bathe in front of me."
It was dusk, and the corridors of the royal court were bathed in golden light, everything as beautiful as a scene sung in a poem.
Ian looked at all of this, feeling a subtle sense of daze—he realized it had been a very long time since he had experienced the outside world's days and nights.
"Ian, do you like it here?" Morgan, walking ahead, suddenly spoke.
"Yes, Princess."
"I like it too." Morgan reached out and caught a fallen leaf, showing a rare smile.
"So, if there's an opportunity, I'm willing to reside here for all eternity, allowing the glory of Britain to shine upon it."
"Your wish, Princess, shall surely come true."
"…"
Morgan seemed to snap back to reality in an instant. She put away her smile.
"I hope what you say is true."
Morgan slowly poked the leaf in her hand into Ian's mouth.
"Ian, swallow it, and then act as if you saw nothing."
Looking at the knight who obeyed her command, Morgan's mood improved slightly.
Morgan was not joking.
She truly brought you to a bathhouse that only royalty could use.
She dismissed everyone else; now only the two of you were here.
She told you to remove your armor and enter the bath.
You realized she was about to tell you her plan.
"Ian."
Morgan sat by the edge of the bath, gently dipping her foot into the water—this was water imbued with special magic, perpetually clean.
"What do you consider betrayal?"
As she spoke, she pressed her foot against Ian's firm chest.
The clear pool water slid from Ian's chest, slowly flowing back into the bath.
"To me, betrayal is to go against your commands and defy your will," Ian replied respectfully.
"Heh, that's certainly an answer you would give."
Morgan's foot traced up Ian's chest, coming to rest at his neck.
Honestly, if anyone else had done this, Ian would have directly assumed it was an attempt to seduce him.
But Morgan alone could not make him entertain such a thought.
He had never truly received her affection.
There was only physical pleasure.
"But I must tell you, that is wrong."
"True betrayal requires that person to truly value you, and I do not value you; you are a pawn I can discard at any time."
"Therefore, your understanding is completely wrong; you can betray anyone, but you cannot betray me."
You were not disappointed, because Morgan had emphasized to you many times that she did not value you.
After she pressed her toes against your lips, you heard her plan.
She decided to have you approach King of Betrayal Vortigern as a wandering knight who hated Britain, and to gain his trust.
You would become a sharp blade Morgan buried beside Vortigern, betraying this King of Betrayal who ravaged Britain at the most crucial moment, striking at his vital throat.
She firmly believed this despicable method was suitable for you, and you would surely gravely wound Vortigern.
Additionally, she had something else to give you.
Swish, swish.
The blade was unsheathed.
Morgan produced a sword—she seemed to have prepared it for a long time.
"Ian, do you remember it?"
"I remember," Ian nodded, "This is your personal sword, it's just…"
Ian remembered the last time he saw this blade, Morgan's name was engraved on it, but now that spot was empty.
And Morgan had long predicted what Ian would think.
Her hand gently stroked the blade, and a carved name appeared on it.
"I used magic to hide it within the sword; you don't need to doubt too much, it's still the same sword."
"However, Ian." Morgan looked directly at the knight whose forehead she was stepping on.
"I command you, under any circumstances, you must use this sword when assassinating Vortigern."
Although he had many questions in his heart, Ian already understood that he had no right to ask any.
"Understood, Princess."
For the rest of the time, you and Morgan did not bring up this matter again.
She brought wine and commanded you to drink it.
She watched you drink, her expression very complex.
You felt some hope from her, but you did not know why that thought had arisen.
She poured wine for you glass after glass, and also drank herself.
"Without further ado, you shall leave here tonight at the full moon."
A slightly tipsy Morgan said to Ian before her.
"I have already arranged everything for your journey, and after you leave, you will bear the crime of killing two fellow knights."
Morgan did not intend to leave Ian any way back.
When the moon rose, he was destined to be unable to return to the royal court in a normal manner.
But facing all of this, Ian still calmly accepted:
"As you command, Princess."
Under the moon, Morgan watched you depart.
The Princess stood on the city wall, gazing for a long time until you became a speck on the horizon, completely disappearing from sight.
She found that she seemed somewhat unaccustomed to the feeling of no one kneeling before her.