"Where is this place?"
Arthur followed Morgan down the stairs as the torches fixed to the walls lit one after another with a simple snap of her fingers. The flickering light cast long shadows across the stone corridor, creating an even more mysterious atmosphere.
Arthur looked around carefully. No matter what angle he examined it from, the place felt extremely stuffy and enclosed. The air was heavy, carrying a faint smell of damp stone mixed with ancient dust.
It was hard to imagine that such a basement existed hidden beneath Camelot.
Morgan continued descending the steps with calm, elegant strides, as if she had known every inch of that place forever.
"Are you nervous?"
She looked back at Arthur, who did indeed seem somewhat tense, and smiled faintly.
"Don't worry so much... or are you afraid I might devour you?"
"It's not that bad. You're not a monster..." Arthur scratched his head and glanced around again. "But this basement feels a little suffocating. It makes me uncomfortable."
That atmosphere brought back unpleasant memories.
It reminded him of the time he had seen Vortigern imprisoned in a similar cellar—the place where Morgan had kept him confined.
Now that Morgan had brought him here... what exactly did she intend to do?
Was she really preparing to absorb magical power...?
As soon as that thought crossed his mind, Morgan simply extended her hand toward him.
Arthur blinked in confusion.
"What?"
"Isn't holding a lady's hand what a properly educated gentleman should do at a time like this? Do I really need to explain that to you? Are you some kind of slow-witted fool?"
Morgan shot him a cold glance, clearly dissatisfied with Arthur's delayed reaction.
Arthur finally remembered that this person had always been a goddess with a completely unpredictable temperament.
One second, she was smiling and talking with you.
The next second, she looked ready to tear your head off.
Master and Nessa are definitely the best... at least their temperaments aren't this strange.
"What are you thinking about?"
Morgan narrowed her eyes, as if she could read every thought passing through Arthur's mind.
"It's nothing..." Arthur replied quickly, trying to smooth things over. "Let's just go. If we return too late, it might be troublesome if Lily can't find anyone."
"Humph."
Morgan let out a short, elegant snort.
"I can sense malice or dissatisfaction in others. You must have been thinking I was a nuisance just now, weren't you?"
This woman is truly troublesome!
"There's nothing I can do about it! Your behavior is so unpredictable that it's bound to be a problem!" Arthur said helplessly.
Morgan suddenly fell silent.
She simply stared at him.
Without blinking.
It's over.
Everything is over.
I accidentally revealed the truth.
And on top of that, we're in a basement.
I doubt anyone would hear me even if I screamed at the top of my lungs.
Arthur felt a terrible premonition. He discreetly looked around and realized there was no exit other than the closed door behind them.
Morgan watched him for a few more moments, then suddenly smiled.
"That makes sense."
She said it with surprising calmness.
"Come with me first."
After that, she extended her hand to Arthur once again.
You're letting me off that easily?
As soon as he thought that, Arthur shook his head, trying to dispel the chaotic thoughts in his mind. Then he reached out and took Morgan's hand.
Her hand was cold and smooth.
Under her guidance, he continued descending into the basement.
The space around them gradually widened. The narrow corridor gave way to a large underground chamber with a high ceiling and several connected areas.
Arthur's gaze swept across the room and paused for a moment on the rows of armored knights standing guard.
He was secretly surprised.
It turned out that not only the palace where Morgan originally lived was represented here, but also the place where the Enforcement Knights resided.
Just how many Enforcement Knights had this woman created?
"Go sit over there," Morgan said, pointing to a small narrow bed not far away.
Arthur: "???"
"What exactly are you trying to do, Morgan?" Arthur asked, unable to hold back any longer.
Morgan had said she wanted some kind of magic, which was precisely why he had followed her here.
But now... this seemed to have absolutely nothing to do with magic.
"How are you going to grant yourself magical power? You're not just going to drain my blood, are you?"
Arthur shuddered slightly at the thought. Almost instantly, an unpleasant memory surfaced in his mind: the miserable state Vortigern had been in back then. Pale, exhausted, and looking as though every last trace of vitality had been sucked out of him.
Just imagining it sent a chill down his spine.
"You speak far too much nonsense." Morgan let out a tired sigh, as though dealing with a particularly difficult child. "Don't force me to do this personally. Will you sit there, or would you prefer that I tie you up?"
As she spoke, her fingers slowly traced across Arthur's face, following the line of his jaw to his chin. A dangerous, seductive, and utterly untrustworthy smile appeared on her lips.
"And now that you've come to a place like this with me, it's already too late to regret it, isn't it?"
She leaned in a little closer, her blue eyes gleaming in the torchlight.
"Besides, don't you want to see your Master again? Then behave yourself. You won't need to pay a high price, so don't worry."
Hearing that, Arthur realized any resistance would be useless. Without another word, he walked silently to the narrow bed and sat on the edge.
It was true.
They had already come this far. Escaping now would be impossible, even if he wanted to.
Morgan still seemed busy preparing something behind him, and Arthur had to admit that this waiting period was more agonizing than any battle he had ever faced.
What exactly is she doing?
He discreetly watched the woman's beautiful back while occasionally hearing small metallic sounds echo through the basement.
Each sound made his scalp tingle.
She isn't going to dissect me or anything... right?
The moment that terrible thought crossed his mind, Morgan turned around.
And walked directly toward him.
In her hand was a small silver knife—thin, elegant... and sharp enough to reflect the torchlight.
"Morgan...?" Arthur instinctively recoiled a few centimeters, his eyes fixed on the blade.
This is what you call not paying a high price?!
Just as I thought... all women are heartless.
Only Master keeps her word and carries that unique fragrance...
"Hands," Morgan said dryly and directly.
Arthur: "???"
"Or would you prefer another position?" Morgan lightly raised the knife and twirled it between her fingers with alarming skill. "Decide quickly."
"You want my blood?" Arthur asked hesitantly.
"Just a little. Don't worry." Morgan gave him an assessing glance. "Look how nervous you are. I'm not the type of person who likes doing things recklessly."
Arthur wore a complicated expression.
That sentence, coming from her mouth of all people, had less credibility than one of Vortigern's promises.
"Oh, dear..." Morgan arched a brow. "Do you have some objection to what I just said?"
She continued to play with the knife between her fingers as if it were a toy.
"No, that's not true!" Arthur quickly raised a hand in surrender. "I believe Morgan is a kind goddess!"
Then he extended his hand before her, firmly closed his eyes, and declared:
"Go ahead!"
Better to get this over with before she changes her mind.
If it's only a little blood... I can still accept it.
A light, sharp pain pierced the tip of his finger.
Arthur opened one eye and saw a drop of blood slowly running from his index finger, falling into a small glass vial that Morgan held with perfect precision.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The sound seemed to last forever.
After some time, when the small container was full, Morgan finally withdrew her hand.
"That's enough."
Arthur looked at the vial and slightly widened his eyes.
That is truly a massive loss of blood...
Even so... it's still within acceptable limits.
Without wasting time, he instantly activated the healing power of his runes. A faint glow passed over his finger, and the small wound began closing before his eyes.
"So I'll be able to see Master tonight?" Arthur asked, lifting his head.
Morgan seemed absorbed, carefully observing the vial full of blood as though analyzing a masterpiece. Only after hearing the question did she turn her gaze toward Arthur, who was still sitting on the bed.
"That was our agreement. Do you think I would go back on my word?"
Even under the crushing pressure of that gaze, Arthur forced himself to persist.
Morgan suddenly laughed, low and amused, shaking her head.
"No. How could that be possible?" Her lips slowly curved upward. "I am the Goddess of Death. Naturally, I will keep my promise."
Then she lifted the vial and set it aside.
"Besides... I would like to give you the mark of the Goddess of Death now. Do you desire it?"
As she said that, a dangerously enchanting gleam appeared in her smile.
"The mark of the Goddess of Death...?" Arthur repeated, not understanding.
"Yes." Morgan approached him once more. "With this mark, your strength will increase significantly in the future."
She placed one hand on the backrest of the bed, leaning forward until she was directly in front of him.
"To the point where you may rival your Master..."
Her voice sounded low, almost like a spell.
"Do you desire it?"
Is there really something this good?
Arthur still had many doubts, but after reflecting for a moment, he nodded.
"What do I need to do?"
In any case, accepting something free of charge seemed like a good idea.
Besides, he had no choice. If Morgan truly decided to do something, there was no way to resist.
"It is very simple."
Morgan placed both hands on Arthur's shoulders. A strand of her platinum-blonde hair fell forward and brushed against his face, causing a light tickling sensation and spreading a delicate fragrance.
Arthur unconsciously held his breath.
Then she brought her lips close to his ear and whispered:
"Close your eyes... do not open them..."
Her fingers slowly slid along his shoulders.
"...and soon you will receive my mark as the Goddess of Death."
(End of Chapter)