Chapter 59: No, Why Doesn't He Have to Get Out?
In the chalk-white city, in the Shrine of Light, the knight leading the way stood firm before the solemn and magnificent main gate.
"Sir Gareth, Sir Agravain, we have arrived. After walking through the main gate, turn right. After walking along a small path for about one hundred and fifty steps, you will be able to see the room where Her Highness Morgan is. I won't go in. The King still needs my service—by the way, remember to come to tonight's banquet. I believe the King has definitely prepared a very rich feast for you."
Should I say, as expected of Sir Bedivere, who "can get along with anyone"? He clearly didn't dare to go in himself, yet he had to find a righteous reason—and others couldn't say anything, because he was indeed serving as a [Secretary], and the entire kingdom's up-and-down communication needed him to handle.
"Alright, then leave it to me!"
The petite girl, with her head held high and her chest puffed out, strode into this magnificent temple. She was the older sister, and also the daughter most doted on by her mother. When her older brother was not around, she naturally had to take on the responsibility of the "eldest sister," protecting her younger brother while also taking care of her mother's face... although this sounded difficult, she was confident she could accomplish this.
However, the most helpless word in this world is "contrary to one's wishes."
"Idiot!"
"You, get out too!"
Five minutes later, the girl, her face filled with confusion and incomprehension, was also driven out of her magic workshop by Morgan. She walked into the garden behind the temple, dejected.
"Unfair—"
She stared at the tightly closed room, her blue eyes showing a kind of disbelief as if her three views had been shattered.
—She was definitely not shocked because she had been driven out by Morgan.
She also knew how strange the personality of that "Fairy Consort" was. Even she, her daughter, had to be careful in front of her, for fear of saying a wrong word, and sometimes even had to use a cutesy voice. Even so, for her to be driven out of the room by Morgan was a common occurrence.
But, why—
"He didn't get out with me?"
Gareth, sitting in the garden, looked at the tightly closed magic workshop. The workshop was surrounded by many barriers, and the soundproofing effect was absolutely excellent. But she seemed to hear bursts of laughter coming from inside—it was a scene she had never even thought of.
"No."
"On what grounds does he (Agravain)?"
...
Alright. Now, this garden had gathered four "idiots" who had been driven out by Morgan.
[Four people].
This was a very lively number. Compared to the ambiguity between two people, and the subtlety between three people, when four people got together, they probably eliminated all other possibilities and automatically generated the option of [gang].
"I don't think I'm that stupid!"
"It must be her teaching that's the problem, definitely!"
Vena, who had finally finished cultivating the medicinal field, stretched her back and sat down at the last seat at the stone table.
Alright, a standard team has been formed. The "Mastermind" is being automatically generated.
"Anyway, we're idle anyway. Why don't we see what they're doing?"
Shiroryu proposed a suggestion—this was very immoral, and even somewhat violated the code of chivalry. But the people sitting around this stone table no longer cared about these minor details.
"Is that really okay? Won't we be discovered?"
Gareth's eyes instantly lit up. She wanted to see what kind of skills that dead-faced person had. On what grounds was he not driven out?
Mash's face also showed a look of expectation—to be honest, she didn't think the man who had just gone in was cuter than "Magical Girl Melly."
"Don't worry. To me, this island has no secrets."
...
He just waved his hand. The originally clear sky instantly dimmed. A light screen floated in mid-air, and what was presented in the light screen was precisely the scene inside that magic workshop.
—But, it was not the "laughter and cheerfulness," "harmonious and happy" that Gareth had imagined.
On the contrary, that room was very quiet. You couldn't hear anyone talking, only the sound of fire burning, the sound of a mithril rod colliding with a glass bottle, the gurgling sound of a potion being boiled... and the sound of footsteps that were fast, but by no means hurried.
"He, he..."
Gareth looked in disbelief at Agravain, who was clearly meeting the Morgan of this world for the first time, but whose coordination was so skilled that it was as if they had lived together for decades. They were squeezed into a narrow potion room, but their movements did not affect each other at all—they were simply dancing in this room!
At this moment, Gareth finally understood why she had been driven out by Morgan. Mmm... next time there was such a situation, she'd better be more sensible and get out on her own.
"I..."
"Alright, I really don't have any talent in magic. I'd better just practice my sword honestly."
Looking at those movements that clearly looked very ordinary, but which she could never learn no matter how hard she tried, and which in others' hands were as elegant as dancing, Vena, whose personality had become very strong, had to lower her head and admit that she really did not have the talent to become a magus.
—Or rather, most of the people in this world did not have the talent to become a magus.
If the constituent elements of other professions were 99% effort + 1% talent; then the entry condition for a magus was 100% talent—if you didn't have this talent, you wouldn't even be able to find a way to work hard even if you wanted to.
And an hour later, when a bottle of emerald green potion that exuded a fresh scent of grass and trees was finally brewed, and was carefully preserved by Morgan in a bottle made of gold,
"Phew—"
She let out a long breath and opened the window. Outside the window were four faces that were looking this way, filled with "stupidity." Behind her was Agravain, who was expressionlessly tidying up the potion brewing tools.
"I suddenly believe that you are my son. Otherwise, I can't explain why your habits and mine are so similar—even the method of stirring the potion is the same," Morgan said thus. Her face was filled with a deep, unresolvable sorrow.
According to what that clumsy daughter who couldn't even control the heat had said—she had a total of five children like them. She had already seen two now. What about the other three? What was their situation? Please don't be as stupid as that daughter!
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