At the sunrise, three days after her meeting with Saci, Morgana stood at her base's entrance. By her side there was a massive improvised chariot being driven by two golems. There were four more serving as guards on the back.
Today was the day of her departure and she did not intend to ever return.
This place had given her so much. Here she got back a portion of her old power and hid from the forest's unknown dangers behind those walls. Even the golems were built with magic gems she found by exploring deeper within the dungeon.
And now she was walking away from all of it. Bringing only what she could carry without much trouble.
The reason?
Because it was all a lie. An illusion created by outdated notions of reality. Morgana had grown arrogant. After five hundred years of reasonable success, she believed herself untouchable as long as she was careful enough. In her previous world this had also cost her everything.
Staying at the same castle for fifty years? Creating a guild? Drawing attention? She might as well just have painted a target on her back. This risky immobility was bound to come back and hunt her in the long run. She should have known better this.
Morgana, however, had believed very strongly that as long as the benefits of attacking her were outweighed by risks and costs, no great power would ever dare to make this choice.
She went to great lengths to make sure no one would ever consider her to be an appealing target.
The Guild of Avalon, for instance, had it's sphere of influence restricted only to the lake region, near Mozna Castle.
By right, someone with her power would be able to dispute much more wealth, territory and influence than just this, if she really wished to do so. Yet she adopted a conservative posture, vying for stability.
She also built a network of alliances, becoming an important mediator among the dark factions. All in order to defend herself in case of enemy aggression.
And the reason behind all of this was her long term plan, a dark ritual that would have made her powerful like a goddess. In order for her to succeded, however, many years were spent gathering both resources and knowledge.
But the consequence was self-inflicted blindness. The world kept moving as she was unaware.
Somehow, her enemies learned about this ritual and, suddenly, the cost-benefit balance could no longer protect her. The enemy stroke fast and decisively, achieving victory even before her allies could act.
This time around, however, her mistake was even worst. Not only did she felt confident enough to settle down and ignore the world around her, but she did so in a completely strange environment where her powers were severely limited.
What if all intelligent creatures in this world were just as strong or maybe even stronger than that strange man?
Well, that would mean that all of the countermeasures she thought about so far would be utterly useless.
Those people would just take a look at her base, her discoveries and even her golems just to laugh in disdain.
That's the ultimate reason why Morgana immediately chose to leave.
By leaving, she might face hostile creatures and die in the process. But she also could learn something and have the chance to survive and prosper.
However, if she stayed, death was certain.
Not by age, since she did not grow older.
However, just like it happened in Northumbria. She may choose to ignore the world, but who can guarantee the world will choose the same? Eventually the unknown would come knocking on the door and bring her impending doom.
Morgana whistled and an exquisite red bird with a long tail landed on her shoulders. This was her familiar, a fey creature that took the form of an animal.
"You know what to do, Mordred. I understand your strength is not what it used to be, but I believe it's enough to do some easy scouting. Now go ahead."
Master and familiar had a very close relationship. When this contract was forged, there was no way to break it. The servant would live and die by the side of the wizard who summoned it.
But that was not all. The stronger the master's magic, the stronger the familiar would become. Even it's intelligence would change with time, growing to match or even surpass the average human.
However, there was also a downside. Since Morgana was much weaker now, Mordred had been heavily impacted. In fact, for a very long time after transmigrating, she wasn't even capable of summoning it anymore.
....
As soon as the bird left, Morgana and her golems started making their way through the forest, following a route defined by Mordred, where the dangers were less in number and the forest, more open.
After Morgana had traveled for a mile, she suddenly commanded the carriage to stop and looked back one last time.
With a hand gesture a signal was transmitted somewhere else and an explosion from far away echoed through the forest.
It was a habit of the wise to keep his or her secrets close to the chest. After all, information is currency and Morgana was no fool who would give it away for free.
Not only did she destroyed all of the materials she wasn't willing to carry before leaving, but now, with this explosion, even the structure itself was gone.
As such, Morgana honestly believed that even someone as powerful as Saci wouldn't be able to gain anything of value by searching those ruins.
So, with a satisfied smile, the dark wizard turned towards an open scroll on her lap and gave the order for the golems to resume their movement.
....
The scroll was Saci's gift, a crude map which depicted several of the region's landmarks. There was almost no writing, only symbols whose meaning Morgana could vaguely deduce.
"If this is true, that is even more information than I would have dared to ask that guy for. However..."
Could she trust him?
Of course not.
But could she refuse him?
The answer is, most likely, no.
There were two Xs, one marking the position of her base and another somewhere on the margins of what appeared to be a mighty river.
Apparently, Saci intended for her to visit this location.
"If I don't go, this will be taken as an offense, leading a narcissist like him to retaliate without question. This is not an enemy I can afford to make. On the other hand, if I play along and massage his ego, maybe I can even get rewarded. Anyway, at this point, doing nothing means certain death."
During her youth, Morgana passed through many hardships and ascended to great prominence from a very humble background.
Of course, someone like this was necessarily good at currying favor with those who had more power than her. In the business of power and politics, not knowing how to "play ball" greatly lowers chances of success.
Thinking about this, Morgana turned towards the only written inscription on this entire map. It was not in any language she knew fluently, yet the wizard immediately understood it's meaning.
After all, she had seen it before.
"To the winner, the potatoes."