Kaelar was destined to become one of the Knights of the Round Table, a future enemy of the witch. Yet here was Morgan, the witch herself, willing to impart all her magical knowledge to him.
Can you believe it? My dear witch sister!
Perhaps, in this classical Age of Gods, promises and oaths were sacred to all. It wasn't a time when one could casually break their word without consequence.
The magic Morgan taught wasn't like the forbidden knowledge of Cthulhu—where just knowing could lead to insanity or death.
Magic, after all, while steeped in mystery and requiring secret traditions, wasn't fundamentally different from mundane knowledge.
It was simply another way of understanding the world.
It's like calculus: even if you don't understand it, with enough memory, you can still memorize formulas and write them down, even if you can't comprehend or use them.
If Kaelar had known more about Morgan's character, he wouldn't have found her behavior so strange.
In the general human history, Morgan both hated and resented Arthur, seeing her imperfect little sister as a usurper of her throne...
Yet she still sent her children to serve as Knights of the Round Table, where they distinguished themselves as Arthur's trusted allies.
Sometimes, Morgan sought alliances with Vortigern to overthrow Arthur, only to change her mind and assist Arthur instead...
Her contradictory actions revealed the complexity and volatility of her character.
Morgan's nature was, indeed, ill-suited for rulership.
Her obsession with becoming Britain's rightful ruler was so strong it almost materialized into a Noble Phantasm.
But right now, she couldn't defeat Vortigern, the Usurper King, nor could she defy her conceptual father, Uther.
And she was destined to never triumph over King Arthur.
"Hmph, my magic isn't so easy to learn!" Morgan crossed her arms, giving a disdainful smile at Kaelar's delighted expression. "If a magical mishap occurs, don't expect me to save you, Kaelar!"
In modern times, many forms of magecraft would have been considered "magic" in the past, especially during the Age of Gods.
As the world's mysteries faded, what was once called magic degraded into magecraft.
Kaelar's smile remained. "Yes, yes, and when it happens, I'll just shout, 'Morgan, save me!'"
By now, he had come to understand the tsundere tendencies of this witch—or rather, her complicated nature.
Hmm...
To sum it up, when Morgan says "no," she really means "yes."
At the beginning of their acquaintance, this witch had nearly lured him into her cabin to turn him into candy with her fairy magic.
Luckily, Kaelar had been cautious, and Morgan, for all her power, wasn't exactly meticulous. His cleverness had allowed him to break free, earning the great fairy's respect.
"Enough with the chit-chat!" Morgan said, losing patience. Her arms crossed, she stared down at Kaelar with a haughty gaze. "Kaelar, what do you want to learn?"
"Let's be clear—I can teach you everything I know, but if your progress doesn't satisfy me, I'll stop whenever I please."
"I have no interest in teaching a naive fool."
"Naive? If you say so," Kaelar replied calmly. As long as he learned something, it was all good.
After a moment's thought, Kaelar said, "Morgan, is there a magic that can quickly increase my personal strength?"
"Preferably, one that could elevate me to the level of Britain's top heroes."
After all, ideals require strength to back them up.
Maybe Kaelar had grand aspirations, but why hadn't he taken more decisive action until now? Why had he limited himself to small projects and agricultural development?
Because he understood that the first thing needed to change the world was not lofty ideals but the power to make others sit down and listen.
Violence is the foundation of all rules—the primordial law.
Well, maybe he wasn't so naive after all.
Morgan raised an eyebrow, surprised by his clarity. His intense desire for power might lead him astray.
But why should she care?
"Yes, such power does exist, and I happen to know of it."
Morgan was, after all, a walking encyclopedia of Britain. Even if other magi, or even Merlin, couldn't provide a way to meet Kaelar's demand, Morgan could. She asked, "Kaelar, do you know what a Geis is?"
Geis—a taboo, a vow, a prohibition.
It was one of the foundational elements of Celtic culture.
To swear a Geis was binding, even for a god-king or a great hero. If someone discovered a person's Geis, it would be like exposing their fatal weakness.
But at the same time, a Geis granted immense power.
The stricter and more impossible the Geis, the greater the strength it bestowed.
In the early stages of many civilizations, the importance of vows was paramount, with some cultures even worshiping gods of oaths as their primary deities.
Breaking an oath would earn disdain in any culture.
But not everyone could establish a Geis. It wasn't as simple as swearing an oath to gain power.
Geis wasn't meant for the common folk; it required a certain "status." The nobler the individual, the stronger the binding force of the Geis and the greater the power it provided—to themselves and others.
Diarmuid, famed as "the Radiant Face," was bound by a Geis set by Princess Grainne, who, as royalty, had the authority to impose such a command. It forced him to betray his lord and flee.
The more great deeds a hero accomplished, the more vows and Geis they accumulated. In a way, the number of Geis one bore was a measure of their status and power.
Depending on the specifics, the more detailed and stringent the commands, the greater the accuracy and potency. The priority of a Geis depended on the nobility of the one who set it, with the highest priority belonging to the true self.
"Geis?" Kaelar mused, frowning in thought. "A curse? The fatal flaw of Cú Chulainn and Diarmuid?"
"Correct." Morgan's eyes narrowed, but she quickly resumed her neutral expression. "To meet your requirements, only a Geis would suffice. If you set a sufficiently fearsome vow, you could gain the protection you seek."
Morgan's intentions were far from pure. While a Geis could indeed grant tremendous power, many heroes who swore such oaths ended up dying because of them.
That's Morgan for you—complex and contradictory.
She clearly admired Kaelar, yet could suggest he take on such a potentially fatal weakness without batting an eye.
If Morgan were to learn the details of Kaelar's Geis...
Witches were often the bane of heroes. Even Cú Chulainn, when Queen Medb learned of his Geis, was defeated after she systematically dismantled each one within a single day.