In Britain, the Noble Phantasm: Divine Key

"I'm so sorry!" Artoria, feeling extremely embarrassed, bowed almost ninety degrees to Scáthach.

“It’s alright, I experience things like this every day anyway, and I’m pretty much used to it.” Scáthach smiled and shook hands with Morgan le Fay.

Habit? Does that mean you experience battles like that every day? Is the environment in the Land of Shadows really this harsh? No wonder she's the legendary Queen of the Dead, Scáthach... Morgan pondered to herself, when she saw Scáthach suddenly lean in and sniff her neck.

Morgan felt goosebumps rise on his skin:

"What...what are you doing?"

Scáthach did not answer. After sniffing, she circled Morgan several times, lingering on her eyes and hair for a while before finally settling on her in front of her.

Morgan instinctively hugged himself, a wary look in his eyes.

For some reason, she always felt that when the Queen of the Shadow Kingdom looked at a certain part of her body, her gaze seemed to become somewhat... strange.

Shaking her head, Scáthach acted as if nothing had happened, and said calmly, "I sensed an old friend's aura from you, so I wanted to confirm whether you were her disguise."

“Old… friend?” Morgan blinked twice in confusion. “But I’ve never seen you before.”

Anan's voice came from the side: "Mother, Morgan is actually the evil incarnation of Vivian, which is why you find her so familiar."

When exactly the Queen of the Land of Shadows began to exist is unknown to anyone but herself. How many legendary figures she has met over such a long period of time is also an unsolved mystery.

However, one thing is certain: of the people she knew back then, very few are still alive today.

This naturally includes Vivian, the primordial elf.

"So that's how it is. I was wondering when that old hag who always pretends to be a young girl had grown so big." Scáthach snorted and then turned to look at Artoria.

Artoria instinctively took a few steps back, covering her chest with her hands.

This time, however, Scáthach didn't do anything strange. Instead, she said, "Your name is Artoria, right? Could you show me that sword you were using earlier?"

"Ah... okay, no problem."

Artoria held Excalibur in one hand and covered her chest with the other, carefully taking a few steps forward to keep a one-meter distance from Scáthach, displaying Excalibur to her.

Scáthach observed carefully for a while, then sighed softly, "It really is the Star Sword... Now, that old hag's wish has finally been fulfilled. I guess we'll never have the chance to meet again."

Her voice was slightly low, carrying a distinct sense of loneliness and solitude.

"Oh, right, I remember Yanan mentioned to me that she has a daughter named Mordred, right? Could you take me to see her?"

"Of course, please come with me."

In order to establish a good relationship with Scáthach, Nidhogg took the initiative to accept the task and led Scáthach toward Mordred's infancy.

"So this is the Queen of the Shadow Kingdom? She is indeed a very domineering and powerful woman. No wonder she can suppress the legendary Death Realm." Morgan smiled helplessly and turned to look at Anan. "I'm suddenly a little curious about how she raised you."

Yanan curled his lip: "Otherwise, why do you think I've been avoiding her all this time?"

......

......

Because Scáthach's identity was very special, and she was also someone who hated trouble, Anahn did not spread her news widely, but only told her trusted confidants such as Bedivere and Kay.

Knowing Scáthach's identity, Bedivere and the others treated her with great respect. Although the others didn't quite understand why this unfamiliar purple-haired woman was bowing to them, the fact that even these highly respected Knights of the Round Table did so proved that this purple-haired woman's background was definitely extraordinary.

Later, it was discovered that this purple-haired woman often appeared with Princess Ned, Princess Morgan, and Princess Artoria, and according to witnesses, the latter three seemed to behave somewhat... obsequiously in her presence.

At first, people just took it as a joke. After all, given the prestige of these three, apart from the king, who else could possibly deserve their bowing?

But they later discovered that Princess Ned and Princess Morgan would always give half of their gifts to this mysterious purple-haired woman, and even Princess Artoria would go to her to share her delicious food.

What's most unbelievable is that the king actually gave the order himself, so that this purple-haired woman could come and go freely in any part of Camelot, and even the king's study, which was considered a forbidden area, could be entered and exited without hindrance!

This caused an uproar among the onlookers.

"Tell me, who exactly is that purple-haired lady? Why do the Knights of the Round Table, the Princess, and even the King treat her with such respect?"

"Could she be a relative of the king? Like an aunt?"

"Huh? Why don't you just say she's the king's mother? Please do your research beforehand, okay? That purple-haired lady is very young. She looks only a year or two older than the king, or maybe even younger."

"I've heard that the lady has a very noble air about her, no less than that of Her Highness the Princess. If that's the case, she must be a princess from some country."

"Could it be that her father wanted to curry favor with Camelot, so he sent her here to marry the king?"

"It's impossible for the King and the Princess to show such respect to a marriage partner. Besides, if that were the case, wouldn't Princess Nied be very angry?"

"Hehe, you don't understand. This only shows how much the king loves this purple-haired princess. Princess Eldest and Princess Nide must have seen this too, which is why they can only swallow their anger like this now."

"Wow! This purple-haired princess is incredibly lucky to be so favored by the chosen king. I wonder what kind of good fortune she has accumulated over her lifetimes."

And so, not long after, Scáthach acquired a new name—

The purple-haired princess favored by the chosen king.

Chapter Fifty-Six: Yanan's Great Treasure

call out!

The crimson spear sliced ​​through the air, piercing through the half-meter-thick marble wall.

Yanan, who was processing documents, looked up and sighed. The wall that had just been repaired was going to be ruined again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a strand of silver hair falling lightly like a fallen leaf beside the spear. Merlin forced a stiff smile onto his handsome face: "Um... Your Majesty, Queen of the Shadow King, isn't what you're doing a bit too dangerous?"

"The purple-haired princess favored by the chosen king, Nightmare, you certainly dare to say that," Scáthach said calmly, arms crossed.

The great sage guiltily shifted his gaze to the side: "This... isn't this what everyone's saying? What does it have to do with me?"

"While I may not be as skilled as you in the realm of magic, don't think that your clumsy magical disguises can fool my eyes," Scáthach said calmly. "Do you really think I don't know who leaked this information?"

"Hey, we're all civilized people. We need evidence to back up our words and actions. Since you say I did it, then show me the evidence if you dare," Merlin said smugly.

"It seems you don't know me very well." Another crimson magic spear appeared in Scáthach's hand, thrusting towards Merlin like lightning. "For the Celts, there is no need for a reason to fight."

Seeing the spear hurtling towards him, Merlin was startled. His figure flickered slightly and disappeared from the spot in the blink of an eye.

Thud! The spear pierced straight through the entire wall and embedded itself in the wall of the opposite room.

"Want to run?"

Scáthach raised an eyebrow slightly, and the divine declaration Gungnir instantly appeared in her hand.

"go with!"

Scáthach casually tossed the spear, and it instantly pierced through the wall, hurtling into the distance. About half a minute later, a scream echoed far and wide.

Anan put down the documents in his hand, looked at the rubble on the ground, sighed, and stretched out his finger to draw a rune.

As if time had reversed, the scattered pebbles returned to their original positions, forming a thick wall.

The room was smashed twice in less than a month. I guess I'm the only king in the world who has experienced something like this... Yanan thought to himself with a self-deprecating smile.

"It's incomprehensible that such an unreliable guy is the most powerful magician since the Age of Gods." Scáthach shook her head. She firmly believed that only persistent training could make a person strong, and she couldn't stand Merlin, who was idle all day but had a terrifyingly high level of magical skill.

"There's nothing we can do. Sometimes the world is just unfair like that. Monsters and normal people can't always be lumped together." Yanan neatly put the processed documents together, intending to have Yulina pick them up later.

"You probably don't include yourself in your definition of a normal person."

“Of course I’m a normal person. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Nidhogg. She can prove it every night,” Yanan said earnestly.

Scáthach raised an eyebrow slightly, walked to the desk, bent down, revealing her sexy figure, and gently hooked Yanan's chin with her slender fingers, saying, "Saying such things in front of me, are you implying something?"

Looking into those crimson eyes that seemed to be both smiling and not smiling, Yanan awkwardly touched his nose.

“Actually, I don’t mind doing that kind of thing with you,” Scáthach murmured, her full, sensual red lips exhaling a musky fragrance as she gently patted Anahn’s face.

Yanan's heart pounded, his gaze involuntarily sweeping over Scáthach's mature and sexy body, and he quietly swallowed: "Really?"

“When have you ever heard me tell a lie?” Scáthach smiled.

Yanan's breathing suddenly became heavy. He lowered his head slightly, clenched his fists tightly, and the veins on the back of his hands stood out.

After a long silence, Yanan finally opened his mouth, his voice slightly hoarse, and said, "There is something I would like to ask you, Mother, is that alright?"

A fleeting hint of disappointment crossed Scáthach's eyes, but it quickly vanished. She stood up as if nothing had happened, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and smiled, "So, what is it?"

Yanan still didn't raise his head: "I have a knightly order under my command, about nine hundred men, and I hope you can go and teach them martial arts."

"Only true warriors deserve my guidance."

"Rest assured, I assure you, they are all true warriors."

"Since you've put it that way, I'll look forward to it a little."

Yanan breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at Scáthach: "Thank you for your help."

“What are you talking about? You’re my child. Family members don’t need to say thank you for helping each other.” Scáthach pinched Anahn’s cheek lightly twice, then turned and walked out. “I’m leaving now. Morgan and Lily are waiting for me to have afternoon tea together. Remember to send someone to take me to meet that knightly order tomorrow.”

"Ok."

Looking at the closed door, Yanan let out a long sigh, leaned back in his chair, rubbed his temples, and gave a wry smile.

"Wouldn't this make me worse than an animal?"

He glanced down at the small tent protruding from his lower body and sighed, "You've had a tough time, brother."

With a creak, the door was suddenly pushed open again, startling Yanan, who quickly lay down on the desk to hide his strange behavior.

However, when he looked up and saw the person's appearance, he breathed a slight sigh of relief.

"What are you doing lying on the table?" Nidhogg, dressed in a long black dress, looked at him with a puzzled expression.

Yanan's eyes darted around, and he smiled, "Because I'm researching a big treasure. Would you like to see it?"

"What wonderful treasure?" Nidhogg asked curiously as he stepped forward.

“Come and take a look together,” Yanan said with a smile as he saw the little white rabbit. “I promise you’ll love it.”

......

......

Before you know it, night falls.

The solitary bright moon cast a silvery rim around the earth. Yanan leaned against the headboard, stretched contentedly, and felt much more relaxed.

Nidhogg lay languidly on the bed, the thin blanket unable to conceal her breathtaking curves. A slight blush and beads of sweat lingered on her face, her eyes were glazed, and she murmured in a low, almost reproachful tone:

"We did those things so many times last night..."

Yanan gently stroked Nidhogg's long black hair and said with a smile, "I just couldn't help myself for a moment."