Gabriel closed his left eye, channeling mana to calm the turmoil in his emotions. In just 0.3 seconds, his breathing returned to normal.
The mask of Ash slipped fully into place. The eye hidden behind his bangs slowly opened.
"Queen of Winter," he called, his voice calm, layered with mist. "Ash did not summon you for any ritual. You are right—I was merely praising your precision."
He paused, his gaze fixed on Morgan, yet he did not move closer.
"For that reason," he continued softly, "Ash has not come to command. Will you follow the destiny of the pale mist that watches over the stars?"
Morgan did not answer right away.
She simply hovered silently above the pages of the grimoire, staring at Gabriel without blinking.
The gaze was calm, cold—far too long to be called normal.
And that was the problem.
Gabriel's face suddenly grew hot. His shoulders tensed, his breath caught, and at last he lowered his head, as if unable to withstand that pressure any longer.
"P-please…" he murmured softly, barely audible. "D-don't… stare at me like that for too long…"
In that very instant, the Ash persona collapsed—not slowly, but as if a switch had been violently pulled.
Gabriel drew a short breath. The words that were usually so carefully arranged now tangled in his throat.
"I-I mean…" he said, swallowing, his fingers clutching the edge of his own cloak. "If… if Fay doesn't mind…"
He lifted his face just a little, a brief glance—then quickly turned away again, clearly unable to maintain eye contact.
"I-I just want…" his voice shrank. "…you to f-follow me."
Silence filled the room. Only the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth remained.
Morgan was still staring at him.
And this time, her silence—for the second time—was far more cruel than any words could have been.
At last, Morgan spoke.
"…This world," her voice low, almost a whisper, "has truly lost its sanity."
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes still fixed on Gabriel, who stood with his head lowered.
"Imagine," she said coldly, "a young magus… stuffing a Berserker fragment into some bizarre Mystic Code that ends up shrinking my body."
Morgan floated lower, close enough for her presence to feel undeniably real.
"If this world were still sane," she continued, "you should already be dead."
The death she meant was not a biological one—like ceasing to breathe or a heart stopping.
Within the framework of magical law, Gabriel's action should have triggered a fatal clash between systems—a conflict of laws that would negate each other.
The foreign Mystic Code, forced to contain a Berserker fragment, should have collapsed, dragging the user's body, soul, and very existence into total failure.
An error at the level of reality itself.
In a world still bound by magical logic, there would have been only one outcome: erasure.
Yet Gabriel remained completely unharmed.
And that was the part that made Morgan fall silent—not out of anger, but because the world had once again chosen to allow something that should have been impossible to continue existing.
After a moment of silence, Morgan added, "Or at the very least… you have become something no longer fit to be called human."
Her gaze sharpened as it locked onto Gabriel.
"And yet you still breathe, trembling and bowing your head before me like a child afraid of being scolded?"
She let out a quiet snort—not mockery, but a thin trace of disappointment.
"Then there are only two possibilities."
One small finger rose.
"First—the world itself has gone mad."
A second finger followed.
"Or second… you are an anomaly, one that even the world hesitates to touch."
Morgan stared at Gabriel longer than before.
"And until I come to know you better," she said coldly, "I have yet to decide which of those is more repulsive."
Gabriel fell silent, unmoved by Morgan's sharp words. His attention was fixed on something else entirely.
"So that means… you'll come with me, Fay?" he asked, his voice gentle, yet filled with certainty.
Morgan stared at him sharply. Her face remained cold, but her gaze now carried a hint of irritation. She let out a quiet sigh.
"And again, 'Fay'… you just go ahead and call me that?" Morgan's tone remained cold, almost cruel.
"How amusing," she continued, a subtle hint of sarcasm slipping through, "that a young magus feels entitled—giving a name to something you don't even fully understand yet."
Gabriel tilted his head, slightly confused. According to information from Type-Moon, the Morgan before him did not like the Proper Human History version, as that character was known to be amoral, brutal, and impulsive.
On the other hand, Gabriel felt it improper to address a graceful woman like Morgan by her Berserker class.
That was why he chose to call her Fay—a name that felt more personal and gentle.
Even so, Morgan did not seem to fully understand what Gabriel had in mind.
"Is it really not allowed?" Gabriel asked, a note of genuine curiosity in his voice. "To call you Fay?"
Morgan regarded him for a moment, her brow furrowing in restrained annoyance, before finally diverting her gaze.
"Whatever," she murmured softly. "Call me whatever you like. You remain a reckless magus—and I remain the fragment you pulled from where I belong."
Gabriel nodded slowly. A faint smile appeared on his face, as if he regarded her words as the most honest form of agreement.
"Very well, Fay," he said, his tone steady yet polite. "From now on… I ask for your assistance."
Morgan did not answer immediately. She merely closed her eyes for a moment, as if weighing something that not even the world had the right to know.
Then, the Grimoire trembled.
Not from a surge of Mana, nor from the force of a contract—but from acknowledgment.
Magical letters inscribed themselves, forming a contract circle unknown to the laws of Black Clover magic or the Type-Moon system.
A hybrid agreement—half spirit pact, half magical binding—born from the anomaly itself.
Morgan opened her eyes.
"Don't misunderstand," she said coldly. "This is not an oath of loyalty."
She looked down at Gabriel from above the page, her gaze sharp yet steady.
"This is an observation contract."
"As long as you do not force me to submit, betray me, or turn me into a tool, I will remain by your side."
Dark blue and pale white light intertwined, then seeped into the Grimoire.
Morgan slowly faded, merging into the pages of the Grimoire, leaving behind a heavy yet complete silence.
Gabriel stared at the book in silence.
Not with a sense of victory.
But with the awareness that from this moment on, he would no longer walk alone.
And somewhere, deep within the Grimoire—Morgan smiled faintly, cold yet real.
"Don't disappoint me, Master," she murmured softly.
***
Some time had passed since Gabriel had formed the contract with Morgan.
Now, the two of them were in a dark brick-walled room, situated high within the Sky Pillar.
The air around them felt heavy and silent, as if the place had been cut off from the bustle of the world below.
Morgan emerged from the Grimoire and perched casually on Gabriel's shoulder. Her gaze was calm, almost expressionless, while her mind traced back over the events they had experienced on their journey to this dark chamber.
Though her expression remained cold, her eyes clearly betrayed a subtle interest—enough to amuse her slightly.
The reality they currently occupied, the Infinity Room, was filled with various humanoid races living side by side, each carrying distinct characteristics.
But Morgan's interest did not stop there. Every race caught within the corner of her vision bore its own mysterious and unique structure—including the young man who had now become her Master.
Gabriel's own existential structure felt unstable—not fragile, but strange, as if it were composed of layers of laws that should have nullified one another.
Moreover, Morgan quickly realized that the structure of the Infinity Room was highly intricate and multi-layered. From the information Gabriel had provided, this reality was connected to numerous other worlds.
This meant that clashes between the laws of existence could occur here—without necessarily triggering fatal consequences.
Meanwhile, the young man who had become her Master was intently staring at the list of ascension tests presented by the System, entirely unaware of just how abnormal the place he considered his everyday life truly was.
Gabriel's own existential structure felt unstable—not fragile, but strange, as if it were built from layers of laws that should have nullified one another.
Moreover, Morgan quickly realized that the structure of the Infinity Room was highly intricate and multi-layered. From the information Gabriel had provided, this reality was connected to numerous other worlds.
This meant that clashes between the laws of existence could occur here—without necessarily triggering fatal consequences.
Meanwhile, the young man who had become her Master was intently staring at the list of ascension tests presented by the System, entirely unaware of just how abnormal the place he considered his everyday life truly was.
__________________
Ascension Mission: Level Four
Mission One: Reach the 20th Floor of the Infinity Tower with all Evaluation Results rated S.
Mission Two: Defeat an opponent with power equivalent to Authority Level 4.
Mission Three: Complete a mission in another Reality with Medium difficulty.
Penalty: None
Reward: Authority Level 4
__________________
After carefully reading the details of the Ascension Test, Gabriel closed the display. A faint blush crept across his face as he realized Morgan's gaze had never left him.
He turned toward the woman—sitting quietly on his shoulder, watching him without blinking.
"Fay… um… p-please stop staring at me like that," Gabriel said nervously. "I-is… something wrong?"
Morgan turned her face slightly. Her expression remained flat, without any overt emotion.
"Nothing," she replied briefly.
Her answer only made Gabriel more confused. Slowly, the flush on his face faded. His gaze hardened again, returning to focus straight ahead, as if staring at something unseen.
"System," Gabriel said, his tone now firm. "I want to proceed with the next mission."