(???'s POV)
Centuries had passed since 'IT' first gained consciousness, though 'IT' remained unaware of this passage of time. 'IT' was simply a presence, a remnant left behind by a dragon, devoid of awareness. Yet, 'IT' possessed instincts—a wild essence, shaped by the natural order.
"The mighty deserve deference and obedience. That is absolute."
This singular belief had emerged after consuming countless wild creatures, growing inadvertently robust.
However, 'IT' had never encountered sentient beings, entities capable of imparting purpose. Perhaps this was why 'IT' hadn't assumed any tangible shape or form. 'IT' existed as a life force yet to stir, seeking direction and growth.
Then, amidst 'IT's domain, 'IT' witnessed several beings traversing. Initially drawn to lure and consume these creatures, 'IT' paused upon hearing their spoken words.
For the first time in eons, 'IT' observed creatures sharing thoughts and intelligence. In that profound moment, 'IT' appealed to these creatures.
"Please, aid in my release," 'IT' beseeched, plea of desperation marking 'IT's first cry for help.
---
(Titus's (Lot's) POV)
421 AD, Londinium.
Two women engaged in a fierce battle against a horde of wyverns, a vicious growl echoing through the chaotic scene as four wyverns charged towards Morgan.
Morgan Pendragon, renowned for her mastery in direct combat, wielded not a sword or shield, but a spear adorned with a magnificent red gem.
Yet, instead of engaging in conventional combat, Morgan confronted the imminent threat with a unique strategy. She stood her ground, tapping the spear's tip against the earth, conjuring a multitude of dark, magical spikes that hung ominously in the air.
As the monsters lunged, the spikes shot forth like ethereal bullets, piercing through the wyverns in a swift, deadly assault.
Meanwhile, Artoria showcased her own prowess, forcefully driving her staff downward, pinning one of the wyverns to the ground with a decisive blow.
"Sis! Did you see? I also got three!" Artoria's voice rang out cheerfully, to which Morgan responded with a smile.
However, Morgan's expression twisted with concern as she spotted another colossal wyvern diving toward Artoria from above.
"Watch out!" Morgan's urgent warning reached Artoria, who looked up, frozen in the moment.
In a heartbeat, the wyvern closed in on Artoria, mere inches away, poised to strike, when an invisible force halted its advance.
[Force Control]
Suddenly, the creature was torn apart into minuscule fragments suspended in mid-air, vanquished by an indomitable force.
Once everything settled, I strolled over to where Artoria stood, her head drooping. I gently patted her head. "Cheer up, little warrior. You've done well. Just be a tad more cautious next time," I said, flashing a smile. Despite my efforts, Artoria kept her head down, cheeks slightly puffed.
With a helpless smile, I knelt down and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Alright, no more pouting, or Uncle might mistake Artoria for being silly."
"Hehe~! Okay~" Artoria giggled.
"Milord, you're being too lenient," Morgan stepped forward.
"Let her be. It's the time when kids play and learn," I replied, rising to my feet. "Let's move. We have more to explore."
Both Morgan and Artoria nodded, and we resumed our exploration of the labyrinthine depths of the Spiritual Tomb of Albion.
Long ago, the Dragon of Albion, a colossal creature rivaling a mountain in size, formed this spiritual tomb. The dragon's ambition was to reach the Reverse Side of the World. However, as the Age of Man commenced, closing the usual gateway, the dragon hesitated. Undeterred by the absence of Mystery on the surface, the dragon opted for a physical journey, digging into the Earth where traces of Mystery lingered. Sadly, the dragon's quest ended in its demise, its massive body merging with the earth to create the labyrinth known as the Spiritual Tomb of Albion.
A month prior, after Morgan's successful reclamation of old London from the Romans, we chose to delve into this mystical realm.
Why did we explore this ancient tomb? There was something peculiar about this timeline.
In the original Arthurian legend, Artoria and Gawain battled Vortigern, who transformed into a giant dragon after imbibing Albion's blood. Yet, when Morgan confronted Vortigern, no transformation occurred. Even after an autopsy, I found no trace of the supernatural within his body.
It could only mean one thing – Vortigern hadn't consumed Albion's blood. The reason became apparent when considering the timing of his demise. Artoria faced Vortigern at the age of 20-25, yet at present, she was merely 13. It was evident that this spiritual tomb remained largely unexplored. Utilizing my Odin's Eye, I confirmed the potential for valuable discoveries, particularly if I ventured in tandem with Morgan or Artoria.
Thus, I decided to embark on this adventure with both of them. Another motivation for bringing Morgan was her weariness from endless battles and wars. Having recently seized control of Londinium, I deemed it fitting for her to take a break. What better time than now to employ her signature magecraft and kill some beasts?
"What's wrong, Morgan? You seem confused," I inquired.
Morgan appeared perplexed, her eyes scanning my form. While I didn't mind her ogling, her expression held a genuine concern.
"It's nothing... Actually, I'm wondering what kind of spell milord used to slay that wyvern. Judging by its form, it doesn't seem like any conventional magecraft," she expressed her curiosity.
I smiled upon hearing her query. Most people couldn't distinguish between a skill and a spell, but Morgan, sharp as ever, noticed the difference.
"You're correct. It's not a spell or magic; it's my skill," I clarified, then promptly employed my Force Control skill to prevent Artoria from falling into muddy water.
"Incredible," Morgan gasped in fascination.
I felt bad. I mean magecraft and research is Morgan's prime talent. Yet, I didn't let her practice because of pursuing Age of Men. If people were to find out that Morgan uses magic, they would label her as witch and her rule will be in danger.
It won't be a problem if she practices and hone her skills in secret though. According to my Odin's Eye, she would be fine.
But for the moment, I needed to cheer Morgan up. And so I kissed her.
"N-not in front of Artoria…" Morgan blushed hard, embarrassed from being kissed in front of her little sister.
"Morgan, there is still one more gift I will give you after you are done conquering whole Britain. You can then focus on honing your magecraft skills with peace."
A ray of bright smile curved Morgan's lips and she nodded, "Um~!"
"Whaat!" Artoria shrieked and jumped towards me. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she narrowed her eyes, "It is not fair that only sister got to be kissed on lips. I also want unkie to kiss me on lips too!"
Flabbergasted by Artoria's unusual demand, I didn't know what to say.
'Shit, I shouldn't have kissed Morgan in front of Artoria.'
Usually, I never kissed Morgan or flirted with her in front of anyone but since Artoria was reaching maturity, I wanted Artoria to learn something some romance so that one day, when boys reach her out for marriage, she wouldn't punch them to death.
I never expected Artoria to make such a demand for a kiss.
"Eh hehe, Artoria, you can only kiss your partner, someone you dearly love. And since Morgan is my dear wife whom I love, I can kiss her on the lips," I explained, seeking support from Morgan, whose face was flushed red.
Damn, she was cute! Her strict ruling over Britain melted away when she was with me, revealing a maiden deeply in love.
"Then I want to marry Unkie too. I also love Unkie," Artoria exclaimed, her cheeks rosy.
Well, it wasn't a surprise. Children, especially daughters, often make promises to marry their dads when they grow up. I'd faced similar situations before, and they usually diverged as they matured.
I couldn't use harsh language; Artoria was stubborn. "This is impossible. I'm married to your sister, so…"
"But sister doesn't mind, right, sister?" Artoria turned to Morgan, who simply shrugged.
"I do not mind. Artoria has my blessing," Morgan replied nonchalantly.
"What?" I was utterly perplexed. Lately, Morgan had been shooting dagger glares at any woman who approached me with even a hint of interest. Polygamy was common in this era, but I didn't think Morgan would entertain the idea.
Perhaps she was just teasing me.
"Ahem, then I'll marry you when you grow up into a beautiful lady like your sister," I said casually, trying to picture Artoria in her grown-up lancer form. But that was far off in the future, and it would likely be impossible by then.
"Hey, Unkie!" Artoria flashed a quick grin, somersaulting backward as she effortlessly killed monsters during our leisurely stroll through the labyrinth.
We delved deeper, spending several days exploring the winding passages until we stumbled upon a colossal bone-like structure, signaling our proximity to Albion's original body.
At the cavern's peak, an elongated bone extended like an infinite arm, supporting our pathway. Surprisingly, despite the lack of sunlight, the cave sported trees and rocks, forming an eerie underground forest.
"Halt!" I commanded, bringing Morgan and Artoria to a standstill. A viscous liquid bubbled nearby, signaling imminent danger. Its inorganic appearance belied a palpable sense of life.
"Let me scan this place," I suggested, extracting rune-embedded stones from my Inventory. Despite my intention to assess the situation, Morgan defiantly waded into the gooey lake.
"Morgan, sto—" I began to shout, but her determined expression stopped me in my tracks. Knowing Morgan wouldn't recklessly endanger herself, I refrained from intervening, trusting her judgment and sensing a purpose in her actions.
Abandoning my attempt to halt her, I focused on conjuring defensive spells and manipulating elements to solidify the liquid around her.
"Milord, I will be okay. This thing is alive and seeking help. As a mother fairy of nature, I cannot ignore its plea," Morgan declared as she advanced.
I nodded, and alongside Artoria, we stood prepared, waiting for her signal in case of any trouble. Morgan waded into the dark pool, the black goo reaching her knees. It didn't harm her physically, but it tarnished her elegant robes and long silver hair.
"Oh, poor creature, how about taking a form…" Morgan spoke with maternal warmth, submerging her arms into the dark substance. Despite her aversion to filth, she pressed on, undeterred.
As she withdrew her arms, a figure emerged—a girl with silver hair, adorned with horns, possessing a petite body and dragon wings.
My eyes nearly bulged from their sockets at the sight. There was no mistaking it; the girl in Morgan's arms was Melusine.
===
Stones for Bonus!
700 PSs
1000 PSs
2 Bonus chapters in just 1 week!
Also, support me or read in advance 20+ chapters here:
www.patr eon.com/J_Titan