Moonlight poured down like quicksilver, scattering across the royal capital.
Although three days had passed, the massive royal city remained immersed in panic. No one noticed the puddle of water glowing with a faint blue light in the Princess's room, anxiously shifting its shape.
Ever since the day Morgan left him in her bedchamber to confront King Uther alone, Souya had not seen her again.
He was not worried that Morgan would encounter danger. Few people in Britain could hurt her, and no matter how deranged Uther became, he would not personally harm his nominal daughter.
Souya was worried that Morgan's mental state was simply too unstable. She was like a massive boulder balanced on a cliff by a tiny pebble. The slightest stimulus would send her plunging into the abyss.
Right now, Souya only wanted to act as that pebble.
But what could he do? He was just a puddle of water. He could do nothing.
Just as Souya's thoughts were running wild, the bedchamber door was pushed open.
He subconsciously directed his gaze toward the door. What caught his eye was a sight he would never forget for the rest of his life.
The newcomer was none other than the master of this bedchamber, Morgan.
However, something was clearly wrong with her at the moment.
The Morgan of the past was noble and cold, like an iceberg that never melted year-round. It was the kind that would freeze a person to death.
Yet right now, her eyes were glazed over, and her jade-like face bore a flush of red. Compared to before, she lacked a bit of her icy nobility, gaining an air of sex appeal and charm instead.
She resembled a fairy who had fallen from the clouds into the mortal realm, making one's heart race and rendering the temptation difficult to resist. Her beauty was beyond words.
The culprit behind all this was clearly the half-empty bottle of wine in her hand, along with the faint sweet scent gradually permeating the air.
Moonlight shone upon Morgan from behind. The shadow cast happened to cover Souya. Neither spoke a word, and the air seemed to stagnate at this moment.
What kind of moonlit female drunkard is this?
Souya silently quipped to himself. But honestly, the current Morgan made his heart flutter endlessly. He was confident that no drunkard in the world possessed Morgan's beauty and allure.
Before Souya could speak, Morgan seemed to finally regain her senses. She stumbled into the bedchamber, casually closed the door, and then collapsed face-first next to Souya.
"Lady Morgan," Souya said softly.
Morgan did not reply. She simply buried her head deep into the velvet quilt.
Souya did not say much else, quietly keeping her company by her side.
After an unknown amount of time, Morgan's somewhat muffled voice suddenly rang out in the quiet room.
"Father is dead."
"Yes," Souya responded softly, as if he had been waiting for Morgan to speak all along.
"Right up until his last moments, he never acknowledged me. He even stripped me of my right to have knights."
Souya froze. He never expected King Uther to still be suppressing Morgan on his deathbed, even casting what could be called a vicious curse upon her.
Some might wonder why Morgan cared so much about Uther's words. But one must remember this was the Type-Moon universe. It was a world of extreme idealism where physics was merely a fig leaf. Furthermore, as a Celtic King destined to go down in history after his death, his dying words would inevitably spread throughout Britain and subsequent history, just like the earlier prophecy.
The consequence of this was that this sentence would become an eternal curse on Morgan. In the future, no knight would ever trust or pledge loyalty to her. In other words, in a Britain where chivalry reigned supreme, Morgan would never gain the recognition of the people's pillars. She would never be able to become the true King of Britain.
This was the poison of fate Uther inflicted upon Morgan. It was his final countermeasure to check her against the Child of the Red Dragon. No wonder Morgan went mad cultivating and creating knights in history. No wonder Gawain, Gaheris, and Gareth, who believed in chivalry, all abandoned and even abhorred Morgan, the one who gave them life. No wonder Morgan hated the Knights of the Round Table so deeply.
So it was all because of you, Uther, you old thief.
Souya's heart filled with resentment. His poor impression of that old fool had now peaked. However, the old bastard Uther was already dead as a doornail. No matter how furious Souya was, he couldn't drag his soul out from the realm of the dead and kill him again.
Morgan clearly understood this as well. Upon hearing those words, many things she hadn't understood before suddenly made sense. Thus, past and present emotions surged up together, instantly swallowing her in a wave of darkness. This was also the reason why she was binge drinking.
After Morgan spilled all this, Souya remained silent, no matter how silver-tongued he was.
Understanding Morgan's current feelings made him realize that words were sometimes simply too powerless. At this moment, their effect couldn't compare to a hug or an act of madness. Venting it out like that would actually feel better.
"Fairy, tell me. Does my life from the beginning until now hold any meaning?"
Morgan didn't seem to care about Souya's answer. She slowly crawled up from the bed, hugged her knees with both hands, and stared blankly at Souya.
From his perspective, he could clearly see that Morgan's eyes were red with tear stains at the corners. Those beautiful eyes, once as deep as a tranquil pool, now resembled a stagnant puddle.
"Perhaps, just as Father said, I do not possess the fate to become king."
"Everything I own, the Britain I cherish, will ultimately belong to another."
"Even my birth was likely nothing more than an experiment he and Merlin conducted to create the perfect king."
"Does someone like me still have a reason to exist and persevere?"
Souya saw the light in Morgan's eyes grow increasingly faint. All the pain, hatred, anger, and despair had completely turned into numbness and dead silence.
This Princess, toyed with by fate, finally bowed her stubborn head to destiny.
For some reason, a deep piercing pain struck Souya's heart. He had never felt this before. Even when his heart was nearly pierced during battles with heretics, it didn't hurt this much.
It was the feeling of something he cherished being despised, destroyed, and trampled by others.
Fate. Fuck your fate.
Souya took a deep breath. His voice was deeper and more serious than ever before.
"Lady Morgan, do you believe in me?"
Hearing his voice, Morgan looked up in a daze. She didn't understand the point of Souya saying this right now.
"Do you remember three years ago, when we first met, I said that the very purpose of fate's existence was to be broken?"
"I also said that I would forever stand by your side and be the first to sing your praises."
"If you believe in me, please entrust your convictions to me. I will definitely become the sharp spear in your hand that pierces through fate!"
Souya never believed in fate. If fate truly existed, then he—having died and resurrected, transmigrated to another world, and possessing nine paths of destiny—was a person who transcended fate.
Since King Uther used his life as a price to plant a poisonous curse of fate on Morgan, then Souya would bet his life to break this shackle for her.
"Please grant me incarnation, Lady Morgan. I will forever serve you, become your eternal knight, and shatter every curse of fate."
With that said, Souya fell silent. He quietly watched Morgan, whose pupils had been quaking since he opened his mouth, as if she had heard taboo words.
After a long while, Morgan finally regained her senses. Light returned to her eyes, now filled with many complex emotions.
"Fairy, if you only said this to please me, you have succeeded. I can exempt you from the punishment of breaking your oath."
"No, Lady Morgan. I have no intention of merely pleasing you. Everything I have said and asked for comes from the bottom of my heart."
This was the first time Souya had contradicted Morgan since they met, yet she couldn't muster any feelings of aversion.
Listening to Souya's resolute words, Morgan couldn't help but recall her past with him. Although he had blasphemed her lake of birth back then, hadn't she also stripped him of his freedom for three years and forced him to please her?
Yet not only did he hold absolutely no resentment, he was willing to speak such words defying fate for a discarded Princess like her. Thinking of this, Morgan still felt she should tell Souya the stakes involved.
"Fairy, do you realize that Britain is currently in the declining period of the Age of Gods? If you incarnate, you can no longer enter the Inner Sea of the Planet. Your life will begin counting down from that very moment."
"Even so, are you still willing?"
Morgan seemed certain Souya would hesitate and refuse, her beautiful eyes fixed tightly on him.
"I am willing. If I have to watch you bear the shackles of fate alone, then I would rather you grant me death right now."
But she miscalculated this time. Souya accepted Morgan's words without a shred of hesitation.
"Meeting you is the greatest grace of my life. If my remaining days can provide you with even a fraction of meager strength, I will be endlessly honored, Lady Morgan."
Morgan fell silent. Inexplicable emotions rose within her heart. It seemed no one had ever chosen her so firmly before.
No, there was someone. On that day three years ago, it was also this arrogant little fairy who said similar words to her.
So, I too am acknowledged by someone.
Morgan said no more. She extended her hand and used Magecraft to slice an opening on her wrist.
Bright red blood, like rubies, flowed out from it. Below her, Souya seemed to taste sweet wine as his puddle-like body was dyed the same bright red.
As Morgan chanted Divine Words, the magical energy and the power of the island's ruler hidden within her blood were activated. They transformed into streams of miraculous energy surging into Souya's body, slowly elongating and stretching the spherical puddle of water until it turned into a giant cocoon roughly two meters tall.
Having finished all this, Morgan was pale-faced, unable to hide the exhaustion in her eyes.
Incarnating a fairy was actually using Magecraft. No, it was using True Magic to tap into the Greater Source. It was merely an imitation of the planet blessing an Elemental to give it birth.
This sounded simple, but the actual difficulty was astonishing. In all of Britain, only Morgan could execute it. All other magi, including Merlin, were equally incapable of doing so.
But how could a single person's power compare to that of the planet? Even Morgan could only complete this spellcraft by borrowing the power of the entire British Isle as its ruler.
Yet even so, the pressure she bore was absolutely immense.
Feeling the massive loss of magical energy within her body, Morgan grew increasingly weak. But at the thought of the fairy who foolishly supported and kept her company, she bit her lower lip tightly and persevered.
Soon, as time passed, Morgan's efforts were rewarded. The giant cocoon gestating Souya's new body stabilized. Through the red crystal-like shell, one could faintly see a humanoid figure gradually solidifying inside.
Seeing the successful incarnation, Morgan couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
The next moment, weakness and exhaustion enveloped her entire body. Morgan's legs gave out, and she was about to collapse to the ground.
But just then, a fair yet extremely powerful arm broke through the cocoon, wrapping around Morgan's soft waist. The latter zoned out for a moment, then found herself pulled into a warm, broad chest.
[Ding! You have acquired the skill 'Incarnated Fairy (B-)'.]
[Incarnated Fairy (B-): A fairy who obtained a physical body through the recognition of the island's ruler and the blessing of Britain. Your lifeform is akin to an Elemental. Due to the island's ruler, human bloodline is mixed within, causing a decrease in rank. You cannot leave the British Isle.]
[Ding! You have acquired the skill 'Lingering Light of the Age of Gods (A)'.]
[Lingering Light of the Age of Gods (A): As the last fairy remaining in Age of Gods Britain, the mark of the Age of Gods is engraved in your body. The surviving lingering light of the Age of Gods will manifest within you. The quality and quantity of your magical energy, as well as your physical attributes, will reach the level of a hero from the Age of Gods. However, your life will also be tied to the survival of the Age of Gods.]
With no time to review the System's chatter, Souya immediately bit his tongue after pulling Morgan into his embrace. He kissed Morgan's slightly pale, soft lips, transferring pure blood and magical energy over to her.
"Mmph!"
Faced with such presumptuous behavior, Morgan's beautiful eyes widened in shock.
But right now, she was incredibly weak and completely unable to stop his mischief. Slowly, she stopped resisting. Her body subconsciously catered to Souya as their tongues intertwined and sucked.
After a long while, a crystalline thread slowly broke as the two finally stopped their kiss, quietly staring into each other's eyes.
"Knight, do you know you have committed a grave sin?"
Morgan's hands wrapped around the back of Souya's head. Their faces were pressed very close, allowing them to feel each other's breathing.
"Please pardon me, Lady Morgan. It is entirely because you are too beautiful, causing your subordinate to lose control. It's just that..."
Souya gently held Morgan, feeling the heat and softness of her body. Both saw the unbearable restlessness in each other's eyes.
"Just that what?"
Morgan asked subconsciously. The next moment, she realized Souya's gaze was far too fiery, instantly making a guess in her heart.
"Knight! My patience has its... mmph!"
Before Morgan could finish, Souya once again kissed her red lips, speaking indistinctly.
"Lady Morgan, words are too pale to soothe the pain. As your knight, I want to use my actions to make you forget the suffering."
With that said, the two tumbled onto the velvet bed together. Decadent sounds soon echoed throughout the large bedchamber.
Tonight was destined to be a night of overthrowing the superior.