In the valley, under the moonlight, Shiroryu and Vena continuously exchanged information about the [Red Dragon King]. Their voices were loud, and they did not shy away from the third person present at all—as if this was not some "top secret" related to the survival of this island, but just a casual chat among ordinary people.
But Morgan gradually became engrossed. She swore that at the very beginning, she didn't want to hear what these two were talking about at all. An ingredient on the chopping block never wants to understand what the chef is saying. She also didn't want to know what her fate was, whether it was braised or steamed.
But...
[She is the second red dragon.]
Hm? The second? Who is the first? My father?
[She looks so much like that ahoge-little-sister from before.]
Ahoge-little-sister? Who is that? Sounds quite cute.
[Mhm, they are sisters, the twin children of the red dragon. One controls the 'Authority' of the red dragon, the other holds the 'Power' of the red dragon.]
???
What sisters? What twin children? What authority and power... what are they talking about? I don't understand at all.
The exiled princess with doubts in her heart gradually opened her eyes. Gossip is, after all, a human nature. Even someone like her who had already given up on life was no exception, not to mention this gossip seemed to be directly related to her... from what this white dragon was saying, it seemed her father had an "illegitimate daughter" outside, and was even planning to let that illegitimate daughter inherit the throne of the kingdom of Camelot?
"No, you're wrong."
"Phew—I knew it, how could my father have an illegitimate daughter!"
"No, I mean... it's not 'planning' anymore. That 'illegitimate daughter' has already inherited the throne of the kingdom of Camelot and become the true Red Dragon King."
"!!!"
...
"Morgan doesn't even know about Artoria's existence?"
This was truly a matter that made Vena somewhat surprised. You see, the news that "Artoria Pendragon made a covenant with a god and became the chosen holy king" was currently the hottest news on the Isle of Britain—not to mention the bustling taverns, even in the most ordinary streets and alleys, the brats you meet holding wooden sticks can casually say a few famous words like "I make a covenant with you, to build the ideal kingdom."
And Morgan—this woman who had been accumulating power in the dark for ten years, and even had her own secret organization, the [Dark Holy Mother]—why would she not even know about such explosive news?
"I, I rarely go out," the proud Red Dragon Princess seemed unable to withstand the oppressive gazes of the one person and one dragon, and slightly turned her face away.
In fact, she didn't rarely go out; she didn't go out at all. Her identity was very sensitive. As the only apparent heir of King Uther, before Artoria officially appeared, she had always been the target of the "goodwill" of the kings of Britain.
—Everyone knew that if they could marry her, they could get the claim of the [Red Dragon King], and even the rule of this island was not impossible.
So, Morgan didn't go out if she could help it. As for her [Dark Holy Mother] organization... let's put it this way, Vena was already a very fake one among the "magus" group. She couldn't even perform a proper magic, only being able to make her body emit a little white light. But among the members of that organization, her existence was even more real than real gold! At the very least, her body had been enhanced by dragon's blood and could easily lift a large tree that required four people to lift; her soul had also been blessed by Shiroryu and could be immune to all illusions, not affected by curses below the divine level.
"Rather than being magi, they are more like a group of thieves who defraud funds. Exchanging false information for the real gold and silver of the exiled princess, but when it comes to truly important matters, they all unanimously remain silent."
This sounds a bit outrageous, but considering the unique situation in Britain... one can only say that whether it's modern or ancient, the principles of officialdom are the same:
[You can't just investigate everything, can you?]
[What if you really find something, and the boss tells us to charge? Are we going to give up our days of lazing around and getting paid?]
...
Actually, only a few seconds had passed. But in these few short seconds, Morgan's mood suddenly became extremely complicated.
There was resentment—resentment for her father for not telling her the truth, keeping her in the dark.
There was anger—anger that an illegitimate daughter had the qualification to inherit the throne of the kingdom of Camelot, when she was clearly the most reasonable and legal successor.
There was shame—shame that the power she had accumulated in the dark for ten years was just a joke. She really didn't have the talent of a leader, and the great cause of restoring her country was almost ruined by her.
There was relief—relief that she was not the true heir to the throne, relief that her far-sighted old father still had a real backup plan. Even if she died here, her illegitimate little sister whom she had never met would once again raise the banner of the red dragon on this land, making the name [Pendragon] resound through Britannia again!
And in the very end, when all these complicated emotions had disappeared, all that remained in her body was her initial, and final, pride.
"Aaaaaaaah!!!!"
Facing this white dragon that was completely impossible to defeat, the determined Morgan suddenly let out a low roar. That roar was like a hunting lioness, rough and low, with a slight panting, completely not matching her elegant and noble princess image. But it unexpectedly matched her current temperament.
There was never any natural nobility, only a throne cast through power and blood. The focus of the term "Red Dragon Princess" was never the elegant "princess," but the "red dragon" that symbolized absolute violence.
"Om—"
The magical energy in the air gathered towards Morgan. This "Lady of the Isle," who was recognized by Britain but had never received any formal magic training, with all her strength, barely condensed a basketball-sized ball of magical light. This was actually not her limit; she could mobilize more magical energy. But her fragile human body indeed could not bear more power.
And in the end, she used the last bit of strength in her body to forcefully throw this "tiny" ball of magical light at the mountain-like white dragon before her.
"White Dragon King!"
"I, Morgan le Fay, daughter of King Uther—"
"—have come for an audience!"
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