Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

"Yes, miracles come at a price..."

Even if the price is you?

"In order to reshape Britain and build this ideal kingdom that has lasted for thousands of years, the people can be the price, and so can the king."

Artoria answered frankly, turning to look at the lights behind her and the bustling scene before her eyes.

"There are no eternal empires, no immortal dynasties. Is it worth paying such a high price for a predetermined ending...?"

Samael gazed wistfully at the deep night sky, pursing his lips and whispering, as if asking a question, or perhaps questioning himself.

"My kingdom will not follow in the footsteps of Rome, but will endure on the land of Britain—forever!"

Artoria vaguely understood Samael's implied meaning and answered decisively.

In a daze, a strong urge to confide welled up in Samael's heart, and the advice that had been suppressed in his heart for a long time burst out.

"Your Majesty, you should think about this carefully before making a firm decision."

Flowers bloom and fade, dynasties rise and fall—these are the natural laws. Anyone who defies order and forcibly tries to retain what should not exist on earth is destined to suffer dire consequences. I have some knowledge of prophecy and can vaguely see the future under this stubbornness.

You will no longer be yourself, and in the end, you will no longer be human! Not only that, but if you persist in defying fate, you will be hated by all of humanity, opposed to your own people, and may even face a tragic death!

"Lost? Indeed, I've forgotten what it feels like to laugh..."

Artoria vaguely sensed the boy's heartfelt concern and seriousness, and raised her hand to touch her blank face.

But then, the goddess's golden-green eyes gazed at the distant lights, a faint smile playing on her lips, her tone calm.

“But look, there are many people in the city smiling for me. This kind of joy was never possible on British soil before, so I believe this choice is the right one…”

Live for people,

To live with people,

To leave a future for people.

That is the matter of being entrusted to the state. It is the matter of displaying the King's proof.

—This is also something that is lived within the responsibilities of the king.

She did it for what was most important to her.

She chose to part ways with the most important thing she saw in her dream.

This is the destiny and choice of being a king.

The hope in Samael's eyes gradually faded, and as he looked up at the night sky, a dark flame surged and burned deep within his pupils.

Now, it's my turn to reveal my answer, Artoria.

The eagle banners of Rome have fallen, so the harsh winter of Britain must be approaching.

Chapter 105 Undermining and Building

Several days later, at the Witch's House.

Samael looked at the familiar silhouette in the mirror and touched his cheek with satisfaction.

Meanwhile, several figures peering out from outside the door wore expressions of lingering regret.

Good days are always so short.

"How are the preparations going?"

"Yes, everything is ready. The dosage of the potion I prepared should be enough to suppress that woman for a while..."

Inside the room, Morgan responded quietly, then stepped forward, stood opposite Samael, whispered in his ear, and raised his hand to patiently fasten each button of his guardian knight's clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles, like a wife seeing her husband off to war.

After carefully grooming the man before him, Morgan withdrew his pale fingers with satisfaction. His gaze fell upon the several purplish-red potions on the tray on the table. He took a deep breath, but still could not suppress the surging, complex emotions within him.

Will we succeed?

The sudden feeling of gain and loss made Morgan purse her lips and bury her head close to Samael's shoulder, her suppressed tone slightly wavering.

Samael smiled, raised his hand to gently pat the witch's pink back, paused for a moment, and answered frankly.

"To be honest, I'm not absolutely certain either..."

Using a potion to weaken the Lion King's divinity, and then finding an opportunity to break the fusion between the Holy Lance and her, is only the ideal scenario.

But what they were facing was not a stone that wouldn't fight back or retaliate, but a god-man who ruled the island and possessed immense destructive power.

Fate is always full of randomness. When the time comes, no one can predict whether the outcome will actually follow the script.

“Come back to Orkney with me, I don’t like it here.”

In a daze, a plea slipped out.

Suddenly, she felt a little unwilling to try.

Even if this is the closest he has ever come to the throne and the one most likely to fulfill his long-cherished wish.

"What are you thinking? It's not 100%, but it's 70-80% likely. There's no need to worry about me. Besides, we've come this far, so we should give it a try."

Samael chuckled and offered the witch a comforting hug.

That warm embrace exuded a reassuring aura, and Morgan, who inadvertently revealed a hint of vulnerability in his heart, became somewhat captivated by it.

"My lord, we have finally finished this item. Please take a look!"

Just as the two were embracing and enjoying this moment of tenderness, their eyes were bloodshot, their faces were covered in soot, and their spirits were unusually excited under the pressure. They were like Aurora who had just come out of a black coal mine, rushing into the house and excitedly holding up something to show to this former god for inspection.

Distracted by something external, the two looked away, their gazes meeting on what Aurora was holding.

It was an exquisite rectangular stone box, with intricate patterns of various shapes carved on the outside.

Morgan recognized that the six symbols on each side came from the six great fairy clans of wind, earth, fang, mirror, rain, and wings. Clearly, the creation in the box was a collection of the power of the entire Nameless Forest.

The witch couldn't help but feel curious, so she stepped forward to take a look.

Inside the stone box lined with exquisite velvet, nestled in a recessed area, was a scabbard with a sky-blue base, gold thread embroidered on both sides, and a line of fairy script engraved in the center.

Rather than calling it a scabbard, it's more accurate to describe it as an artwork called a scabbard.

Its streamlined shape and smooth finish exude a dreamlike quality, as if this scabbard were a mysterious door leading directly to a magnificent palace of the gods and an ideal kingdom.

Gazing at it for a long time makes one yearn for it, deeply attracted and wanting to go inside and explore.

Morgan subconsciously raised her hand to touch the scabbard in the box. The mysterious aura emanating from her fingertips caused the British witch's pupils to lose focus, as if she were traveling through time and space, seeing a magnificent scene through the beautiful scabbard.

This is a fantasy world woven from ancient epics.

The streets without noise

A fortress without majesty

No magnificent palace

On an island surrounded by a lonely ocean

However, it has vast grasslands.

Clear streams in the valley

And the enormous ancient trees standing majestically on the hills.

Everything is detached from the world, transcending worldly concerns.

The true destination that humanity seeks

It is about returning to the gentleness and tranquility of nature.

In the fantasy of emerald and glass

Together with everyone, find that subtle longing and sense of belonging in your own life.

No worries, no loneliness

Even if a person stands alone under a tree on a moonlit night

Gazing at the boundary between the ocean and the night sky

You will also feel familiar longing and expectation.

And the slow, steady tolling of the bells.

And this is the perfect resting place for the soul.

It is the inner sea of ​​stars, the tomb of gods, and the final destination of heroes.

In a daze, those timeless poetic phrases and vivid imaginings surfaced in my mind, weaving a breathtakingly beautiful picture that was both dreamlike and real.

Morgan stood there in a daze for a long time until an arm gently patted his shoulder, which brought him back to his senses. He looked at the extraordinary creation in amazement.

"This is……"

"Avalon! The Sheath of the Holy Sword!"

Samael's gaze sharpened, and he subconsciously summoned the fairy inscription on the scabbard.

This emperor is still as omniscient and omnipotent as ever!

Aurora, whose eyes had just revealed a hint of pride and ostentation, trembled and looked in awe at the ancient god who had revealed the true name of the creator.

Did he actually lose his power?

The Wind Clan Chief was somewhat bewildered, but then a certain guess, under the scrutiny of those dark, vertical pupils, entered his mind.

Perhaps, for him, this so-called consolidation of the divine era was merely a pastime after his awakening.

The earth-shattering wars of the gods of the past were like this, and the squabbles among human beings, like ants, today are probably just as intense.

That's... impeccable taste!

A stronger sense of awe and fervent worship caused Aurora to lower her head once more, respectfully raise the stone box, and explain the reason.

“We are deeply grateful for your protection of the Nameless Forest and the fairies. For this, I have gathered the strength of the entire clan, activated the Star Forge on Avalon Island, and collected stardust from that ancient battlefield that has been tempered and refined by the flames of war, to forge a scabbard worthy of the Holy Sword for you.”

Fairies may be scumbags, but they're not idiots.

Previously, the declining reputation of the fairies in Camelot and the dominance of the Lion King, the god-king, made it easy to see what the existence of the Nameless Forest meant for this royal power.

Huddled in the magic workshop, having experienced firsthand the divine pressure emanating from the Lion King, Aurora and the other fairy clan leaders were certain that if they were to encounter this goddess head-on, their only option would be to run.

Currently, in this land of Britain, it is estimated that only the man before us can pose an absolute threat to that Lion King.

Therefore, if you want to survive in the Nameless Forest and live a good life, you have to cling to the coattails of this ancient god.

Samael took the golden-blue fairy artwork from the stone box, placed the star-forged holy sword that appeared in the magic circle back into it, and his gaze was as deep as an abyss.

Its name is Avalon, and it is an ideal land.

Beyond the dream, where the story begins.

Perhaps, this will be the place where everything ends.

As expected, how could the star-forged holy sword Excalibur be without its scabbard Avalon?

After going around in circles, fate has returned to its starting point.

Morgan glanced at the magnificent scabbard, then looked away, gathering his scattered thoughts, his face showing shock and emotion.

"This thing is very unusual..."

"Of course, this is an absolute defensive object that, in theory, cannot be eroded even by the laws of curses or the power of gods!"

Samael ran his fingertips over the exquisite scabbard, giving a meaningful introduction.

Having her true purpose as a sword sheath revealed, Aurora, the forger, looked at Samael with even more obedience. She was unusually humble for a moment and explained sincerely with some embarrassment.

"It's not that exaggerated. We're just using a secret fairy technique, cleverly borrowing power from the stars. But theoretically, Avalon can withstand the impact of the Holy Lance for a certain period of time, protecting the user and making them invincible!"

Upon hearing this, the ancient serpent traced the intricate and mysterious patterns on the scabbard with its fingertips, then looked up at Morgan and smiled.

"Now you can rest assured, right? I might not win, but I probably won't lose either."

Morgan glanced at the fairy clan leader, who seemed to be exchanging glances with someone for some reason, and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and purse her lips in a cold snort.

"Say what you will, you don't need to explain to me."

It could cause such subtle emotional fluctuations in a witch who was also nearly perfect in the eyes of a fairy.

This inexplicably excited the fairy chieftain, who loved to compare himself to others and was nourished by the human spirit, and a strange sense of pleasure welled up in his heart.

Aurora couldn't help but lick her cherry lips, giving someone a charming look, a hint of eager anticipation rising in the depths of her eyes.