Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

Upon hearing this question, Mordred became furious and couldn't help but mutter to Morgan, her teeth grinding together in a sharp, grating sound.

Morgan, however, waved his hand dismissively and calmly gave the order.

"Fine, let them go..."

"Why!"

Mordred, who was simmering with anger, immediately glared and shouted furiously.

"Whether they believe in evil gods, have fallen into darkness, or are bloodthirsty, let them say what they want, there's no need to care about these pointless evaluations. Otherwise, what do you plan to do? Execute them, that would only confirm my guilty conscience."

Morgan recalled what he had seen and heard in the village of Brakmoya, shook his head slightly, and spoke in a flat tone.

"Fine, whatever you say goes. Do whatever you want."

Upon hearing this, Mordred, sitting in the audience, shrugged in annoyance and had no choice but to agree.

Ultimately, she was just angry and wanted to teach these guys a lesson. If she really wanted to execute them, she and Bavanshi could have done it on the spot.

After dealing with the trivial matters at hand, the Queen on her throne looked at Mordred, who was standing below the court, seemingly wanting to say something but holding back.

"Is something wrong?"

Mordred hesitated for a moment, then nodded slightly.

"Oxfordshire has been experiencing a severe drought that has lasted for months, with many crops withering and dying. The lord there has been repeatedly appealing to Camelot for help these past few days..."

"I see."

Morgan nodded slightly, pondered for a moment, then slowly stood up, bent his right arm and stretched out his fingers, drawing Ogan tree runes in mid-air with his fingertips, while the light band behind him resonated and pulsed.

At the same time, strong winds raged around the tower, and thick, dark clouds, carrying moist air, rolled over Camelot and gradually moved toward Lentinion.

Soon, rumbling thunder roared and churned in the sky, and large raindrops fell from the clouds, nourishing the parched earth and bringing life back to everything.

This sudden, much-needed rain plunged the people of Oxfordshire, who had almost given up hope for the harvest, into a state of inexplicable elation. They rushed out of their houses, carrying pots and pans, to welcome the life-saving rain.

Unfortunately, this life-saving rain only lasted for a short half hour.

Judging from the amount of rainfall, it only provided temporary relief and was far from abundant.

People come with high hopes but leave disappointed, feeling both relieved and somewhat greedy with their own sense of loss.

However, those immersed in regret failed to notice that in the clear sky after the rain, the light that pierced through heaven and earth seemed to be barely visible.

At this moment, in Camelot, at the Tower of the End.

Mordred's gaze fell upon the almost transparent band of light, and the figure with her arms hanging limply before the throne, swaying precariously. Her pupils contracted sharply, and she immediately rushed forward, helped the fallen queen to her feet, and asked urgently.

"How are you!"

The queen, who was being helped up, shook her head to indicate that she was alright, gently pushed away Mordred who was helping her up, and sat back down on her throne.

The dim torch was relit.

Mordred looked up at the Queen in the light, whose figure seemed somewhat blurry, her pearly teeth leaving a clear tooth mark on her cherry lips.

"Why? Why go to such lengths for a bunch of guys like that?"

The rebellious knight, annoyed, questioned him, his eyes filled with incomprehension and resentment.

why?

Morgan paused, pondered for a moment, looked out the window, and murmured with a faint smile.

"Perhaps it's because this is the country I obtained by giving my all and sacrificing everything..."

Is it worth it to abandon one's name and identity, to become a faceless queen in the guise of another, and to protect a country that has betrayed her?

Mordred pressed her lips together, raised her head, and hesitated, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't.

"There are some things you don't understand..."

Morgan shook his head slightly, his tone enigmatic, and looked out the window in a daze, unconsciously murmuring something to himself.

"Is Samhain coming soon this year?"

"It's still early. It's only September, there's still a month and a half to go."

Mordred paused for a moment, scratched his head, and answered casually, a hint of confusion appearing in his eyes.

Five years have passed since that rebellion ended.

Since then, Morgan has spoken less and less, and his memory seems to be getting worse.

They would usually ask about the date of Samhain, but strangely, it seems a bit early this year.

"Why did you suddenly think of asking this?"

"A month and a half? It's actually... that long..."

In the brief silence, Morgan did not answer. He lowered his eyelids and looked away, causing the light behind him to flicker and dim.

Gradually, the Queen's eyes closed gently, and her voice, which was almost silent, revealed a deep weariness.

"Mordred, step back. I might... need to take a nap..."

However, the figure on the throne, who resembled a god, swayed unconsciously and fell onto the undulating steps.

The light atop the tower was extinguished amidst the clamor.

At this moment, outside the city of Camelot.

A white-haired succubus sat leisurely on a branch, chin in hand, gazing with interest at the darkening sky and the setting sun sinking towards the horizon, its dreamy purple eyes blinking with a smile.

Night is falling in Britain...

A meaningful murmur flowed from her crimson lips, carrying a hint of unspoken anticipation.

Then, the white-haired, purple-eyed older sister jumped down from the tree branch, her ethereal figure gradually disappearing into the twilight.

Night falls, and the light is gone.

Countless insects that had been dwelling in the gutter crawled out of the darkness and buzzed excitedly in the dim, lightless night.

Meanwhile, on Avalon Island.

The man, who was sitting at the table, pen in hand, chin in hand, deep in thought, staring blankly at the blank letter, suddenly looked up and gazed intently at the solitary tower silent in the night.

Chapter 131 Traveling with the Witch (4/4)

Camelot, the Tower of the End.

In the dimly lit corridor, Mordred and Bavanshi paced back and forth in front of the closed door, their faces filled with unbearable anxiety and frustration.

Eee...

As the door was gently pushed open from the inside, the two immediately surrounded Habertlot and Freya, catching them completely off guard.

"How is she?!"

Impatient Mordred grabbed Habertrot and spoke first.

"She's awake, but..."

As one of Morgan's few friends, the textile fairy before him remained silent for a moment, her lips pressed tightly together, the light in her eyes dimmed, her head drooping, and she shook her head in frustration.

Immediately, Mordred and Bavanshi trembled, understanding the unspoken meaning, and bit their cherry lips tightly.

Immediately, their faces darkened, and without a word, they went into the bedroom.

In the empty hall, the former queen had removed her heavy armor, sat leaning against the headboard, her hands folded and gently placed on her knees, and turned her head to gaze quietly out the window.

Unfortunately, as winter approaches, the weather is getting worse, with the sky already covered in dark clouds, making it hardly a pleasant sight.

"You guys are here?"

"Mother……"

Bawan gazed at that pale, bloodless face, her cherry lips pursed, and she disregarded the constraints of maintaining her queenly status, her gray eyes brimming with glistening tears.

A slightly cool finger gently rose and touched that wrinkled little face. The distance that he had deliberately maintained after ascending the throne was replaced by a touch of helplessness and tenderness.

"Bawanshi, sigh, why are you like this? You at least need to get rid of your destructive and whining habits..."

Caught red-handed, the cat witch blushed instantly. In a moment of panic, just like when she was a child, she buried her face in the queen's arms, trying to hide her embarrassment.

Morgan paused for a moment, then raised his hand to gently pat Bavanxi's pink back. A faint, wry smile appeared on his usually tense face.

Tch, crybaby! You're so old and still need to be comforted, how embarrassing!

Mordred crossed her arms and glanced at Bavanshi, who was snuggling in Morgan's arms, her face filled with disdain, but deep in her eyes, a hint of envy inadvertently appeared.

"Mordred, how long have I been asleep?"

The Queen turned her gaze and asked softly.

As far as I can remember, the moment I lost consciousness, it was this child who rushed forward to catch me and quickly carried me away from the throne.

"It's been a full month and ten days!"

Upon hearing this, Mordred snapped out of her reverie and responded with a soft hum.

Morgan turned to look out the window and murmured to himself.

"Five more days..."

"what?"

Mordred scratched his head, somewhat confused.

"nothing."

Morgan shook his head slightly, smiling but not answering.

Seeing this, Mordred was immediately furious, rolled her eyes, and muttered complaints.

"I'm telling you, whatever you want to do, you should at least cherish yourself. Otherwise, if you fall, it'll be a lot of trouble, you know that?!"

"Yes, I heard from Habertlot and the others that during the time I was unconscious, it was thanks to you that Camelot and the Knights were able to keep running."

Morgan looked up at the face that he had once envied, loathed, and yet also let go of, and his eyes held a tenderness and approval he had never shown before.

"Modred, you did a good job, thank you for your hard work."

Mordred was slightly taken aback, and a blush appeared on her fair face.

Immediately, the girl came to her senses, frowned and snorted softly, pouting to reveal a pair of shiny tiger teeth.

"Tch, don't try to fool me! Don't think you can get away with answering your questions like this!"

"Mordred, you are more outstanding than I imagined. I am so glad to see you grow to the point where you are qualified to be king."

To be king? Me?

Upon hearing this acknowledgment, the rebellious knight, who had originally intended to adopt a fierce attitude and interrogate the rebels, inadvertently became distracted, the corners of his mouth unconsciously turned up, and he subconsciously lowered his unruly arms and straightened his back.

"If she were still here, perhaps..."

Morgan murmured to himself, looking up at the isolated island shrouded in mist in the southern border. Then, as if he had thought of something, he lowered his eyes, hesitating to speak.

The straightforward, rebellious knight couldn't help but purse his lips, reverting to his lazy state, and leaning to one side with his arms crossed.

"You mean my father?"

"You...you know?"

Morgan was taken aback upon hearing this.

“I am an artificial life form created by the fusion of your and Father’s blood. My partner told me this before he left.”

Mordred answered casually, then glanced sideways at the "mother" by the bedside.

"Don't blame him for that..."

Morgan paused for a moment, then spoke softly.

"Tch, I'm not familiar with those guys at the Round Table. As for Father, Samael must have his reasons for doing this."

Mordred didn't seem to care, then turned to look at Morgan and added casually.

"Besides, do you really think I'm a child, so easy to fool? I originally wanted to go with him and see the world. After all, Camelot is too boring, and you're always taking care of me. My partner said all this just so I could stay by your side and protect you."

If I'm not mistaken, this is probably why Bagst and Melusin stayed.

After all, you need us more than he does…