Avalon.
Warm sunlight spilled across her face as Artoria lifted her head slightly, closing her eyes as if savoring the moment.
After a while, she opened her eyes again in that vast, floral realm.
"Give it up, Arthur."
The white-haired mage sat cross-legged nearby, smiling lazily. "Once you enter Avalon, it is impossible to leave... at least it is impossible to find a way to leave in a short period of time-"
Shing!
Before he could finish, the blade of a holy sword was already pressed against Merlin's throat.
Artoria's face held a trace of anger as she spoke coldly: "Let me leave this place."
"And if I do… then what?" Merlin looked up and smiled.
"Will you continue fighting Morgan? Keep clashing with your sister until one of you falls?"
Artoria frowned slightly. "That's not my issue."
"I know."
The dreamlike figure known as Merlin sighed. "If you want the truth, it's not even Morgan's fault. It's mine—and the late king's."
"If it hadn't been for our decisions… perhaps the Morgan le Fay known as the 'Witch' would never have come into being."
If Merlin and King Uther hadn't arranged things as they did back then, Artoria wouldn't even exist and none of this would have happened.
Perhaps Morgan would have long since ascended as Queen of Britain…
"But there are no 'what ifs' in life… The trinity that is Morgan le Fay awakened during the sword-pulling ceremony. If her hatred isn't quelled, Britain may one day fall by her hand."
Merlin paused, then said, "If you had chosen to remain in Britain back then… Even if you won, the price would've been unbearable."
"So you brought me here to hide in Avalon like a coward?"
Artoria glared coldly at Merlin. "Alvin is still out there."
"I know."
Merlin smiled. "But you needn't worry. In this world, anyone might suffer Morgan's wrath… except for him.
After all, the hatred between you and Morgan began because of him. Naturally, he should be the one to end it."
*Just as you've always trusted him unconditionally… I too believe he can redeem that witch."
Artoria silently stared at Merlin, her stunning violet eyes unusually deep and unreadable.
There were many times she felt she couldn't understand Merlin at all.
As a nightmare born of dreams, even his emotions were mere imitations of humanity's—making it nearly impossible to guess what he truly thought.
But this time… she could sense sincerity in his words.
Still… to quell her elder sister's hatred by pushing him back into the center of the stage—was that really the right thing to do?
In the end, wasn't this the same as delivering Alvin directly into Morgan's arms?
Just thinking of that brought a flicker of conflict and hesitation to Artoria's face.
.
.
.
That seductively bewitching voice lingered at his ear.
Morgan le Fay gazed into the young man's eyes, a moist and tantalizing gleam dancing in her pupils, stirring an itch deep within the soul.
A woman like Morgan… it was no wonder that, before her descent into darkness, the nobles had praised her as the "great beauty" of the land.
Her looks and figure were indeed flawless, but her arrogance was carved deep into her bones, making failure something she could never allow.
A woman like that… was meant to be admired from afar, not touched.
Of course, Alvin wasn't thinking that far ahead.
Or rather, in this moment, his mind wasn't functioning clearly enough to think at all.
As the soft breath caressed his ear, and the unique fragrance of Morgan's luxurious dress wafted to his nose, his thoughts visibly slowed.
Was this… the infamous thrill of taboo?
His mind briefly went blank. Instinctively, he looked up, only to find himself drawn into Morgan's embrace.
The faint body fragrance and the unique touch of plumpness and softness that rushed into his nose at that moment made him feel as if he was in a dream.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced down—and found his gaze landing squarely on a red rune nestled between her… well, her very prominent and very pale cleavage.
That's… a really big rune, Alvin thought, and really white.
Apparently noticing where his gaze lingered, a teasing glint flashed across Morgan's eyes as she leaned in closer and whispered in his ear:
"Don't just look… you can do whatever you want."
"…"
She hadn't even used any sort of charm magic or supernatural ability, but that single sentence alone nearly froze Alvin in place.
His brain briefly short-circuited.
Then, forcing himself to calm the storm within, he clung to a thin thread of reason.
Then, in a voice both quiet and tense, he asked the question that had been gnawing at him the most:
"You… don't hate me?"
In the original plot, Morgan had entrusted Alvin with a special power, expecting him to use it to eliminate Artoria.
But Alvin had instead used that very power to save Artoria.
To a witch like Morgan, that was an undeniable act of betrayal.
When he first arrived in this world, Alvin had always been anxious. He feared that the moment Morgan found out he'd returned, she would storm the royal palace… and that a very "unique" underground CG scene would follow.
After everything, a sudden [Bad End] notice might just pop up...
However...
The warmth of the woman holding him, the alluring sensation of her body, none of it felt like the trigger to a "bad ending."
Could it be that after the events of the [White Dragon's Death], Morgan's personality had softened?
Morgan tilted her head slightly and said, "You're talking about when I gave you the 'Fate Contract EX' and told you to take care of Lily, right?"
Alvin hesitated for a moment, then nodded silently.
For a split second, he thought he saw the light dim in Morgan's eyes, her beautiful gaze seeming darker than before.
Just as he began to worry, she raised her hand gently and caressed his face.
"Actually, I've thought about it a lot… If you really had followed through and eliminated Lily back then… I don't think I would've been happy."
To Morgan, Alvin once represented "light." If that light had been extinguished by her hand, it wouldn't have brought her joy.
She wanted to be with Alvin forever, but not at the cost of him betraying his principles—that's what had always tormented her.
During the years Alvin was gone, Morgan had been haunted by a single question:
If he had chosen her over Artoria… would she really have been happy?
At first, she tried to seduce Alvin just to get revenge on her sister.
But after falling for him, everything changed.
"I guess that's the complicated nature of love," Morgan said in a gentle tone.
As they talked, the two of them had unknowingly arrived at a quiet and secluded royal chamber.
Despite a war breaking out just hours earlier, here she was, leisurely strolling through the palace with Alvin, perhaps only Morgan Le Fay could be so carefree.
"This is where Lily has been living all these years?"
Morgan looked around the luxurious chamber and suddenly asked, "Did you come here after returning to the palace?"
Alvin's heart moved slightly, thinking why this question sounded more like a question: Have you done anything serious with Lily since you came back?
However, during the time Alvin was silent, Morgan seemed to have guessed something and a charming smile appeared on his face.
"Wait here for a moment," she said.
After that, Alvin watched as she quietly disappeared into the inner chamber—her footsteps making no sound.
He couldn't help glancing at the pair of delicate bare feet beneath her dress.
He never realized before… did his royal sister not like wearing shoes?
Splash...
While Alvin was still thinking about these messy things in his mind, he suddenly heard the sound of flowing water coming from the bedroom.
He instinctively looked up—and his body froze.
At the far end of the hallway, steam filled the air.
Through the mist, a seductive, curvaceous silhouette slowly came into view.
Alvin's face shifted into an odd expression.
Morgan… was taking a bath?