Chapter 81: Chapter 80: Not making Gawain!
(???'s POV)
For a moment, everything plunged into darkness. I was baffled, uncertain why the shadows clung to me, resisting the urge to open my eyes. An unexpected weight pressed upon me, intensifying the enigma surrounding my senses.
Slowly, I yielded to consciousness, unveiling a scene that left me utterly dumbfounded. "Even though you are so ugly, I still need to produce an heir," the woman declared as she hovered over me.
Her eyes, a piercing blue reminiscent of sapphires, possessed a profound depth, effortlessly commanding attention. Silver locks cascaded like moonbeams, framing flawless, porcelain skin aglow with an ethereal light. An elusive elegance, tinged with a subtle mischief, adorned her presence—an enigmatic allure hinting at a captivating blend of grace and concealed mischief.
Without a doubt, she was a striking beauty, and to add to the surrealism, she was…. Buck naked
While most men might succumb to the moment, I wasn't about to let my guard down. "What the hell is happening?" I demanded of my system.
Unfamiliar with the woman before me, my body seemed unresponsive. A strange heaviness clung to me, and my usual powers and skills were absent. "There has been an error during the Dreamshift, so it will take 5 hours to integrate your strength into your current body," my system responded.
"Freaking buggy system!" I cursed internally, frustrated by the timing. Despite the urgency, I needed to grasp the situation. I checked my status to understand my current identity.
[King Lot of the Orkney
You are the king of Orkney, known for being despised by palace women for your inappropriate behavior and loved by the people for maintaining order in the state. Just a day ago, you were married to Morgan Pendragon, King Uther's firstborn.]
"…fuck," I cursed my 'good' luck.
Yeah, I didn't sign up for drama or falling in love, especially when I was already hitched to the fairy herself. My immediate concern, however, was putting the brakes on Morgan. She was going all out, stroking my nether regions as if she were trying to figure out how to jump-start a car.
"How the heck does this disgusting thing even work?" Morgan cursed.
I smirked internally, realizing she was as inexperienced as a toddler handling a complex gadget, treating my Quagmire like it was some kind of intricate wire, plugging directly to her socket.
I had to stop her.
I AM NOT MAKING GAWAIN HERE!
"Hm, you're already waking up? My spell should be working," Morgan muttered, attempting some kind of dark enchantment.
It was evident that she was several notches stronger than any regular human. For one, she wasn't even human; she was a fairy, a fact evident from the density of her mana.
"Morgan… Stop here," I struggled to lift my head and speak, but her magic had its grip on me. Even though my current body barely had any mana, I had managed to cast a rune that rendered my body resistant for some time. At least, I wouldn't be getting any erection.
Morgan rolled her eyes and did a 180 in personality. "Dear Lord Husband, please sleep. I don't want to look at your face," she beamed a seemingly kind smile, but I could sense nothing but utter disgust.
About to channel another spell, Morgan's demeanor changed when I uttered some words that left her speechless.
"Uther... is planning an heir for Britain."
"What did you just say?"
"Tomorrow. Beat me to a duel, and I'll spill everything. I not only know your true identity but also some secrets of these isles," I smirked, "Believe me, and you won't regret it. Ignore me, and you'll pathetically meet your demise."
Morgan closed her eyes in contemplation. She couldn't off me without turning into a national enemy. Uther was likely scheming for Artoria, so he wouldn't welcome Morgan with open arms. She had no choice but to heed my words.
"Very well, your majesty," Morgan spoke, slipping into her robes before silently exiting the room.
I stood there, utterly dumbfounded, questioning whether it was truly this easy or if I'd stumbled upon sheer luck.
Now, let's delve a bit into Morgan Pendragon.
Morgan, born to Igraine, daughter of Tintagel from the British Isles, was commonly believed to be Artoria's sister through Uther's marriage to Igraine. However, contrary to legend, Morgan was Uther's true blood daughter, born after their union. Uniquely, she wasn't human; she was an embodiment of Britain's essence, akin to Vortigern, embodying the essence of a fairy.
Concealing her origins, she was raised among humans and could have laid claim to Uther's throne until Artoria's birth. Identifying herself as the "True King," she harbored resentment toward Uther, Artoria, and humanity itself, influencing the downfall of Britain.
If my hunch was right, she might have already realized her status as the True King of Britain, evident from her curiosity when I mentioned Uther.
Anyhow, I decided to check myself out in the mirror, and the moment I caught my reflection, I was rendered speechless.
"My god, what the heck…"
My appearance was something else entirely. Long, dark reddish-brown hair and beard cascaded down, almost reaching my navel, akin to Rubeus Hagrid after a run-in with asteroids. A protruding belly and swollen limbs transformed me into a figure resembling a clown. No wonder Morgan was repulsed; my face truly looked disgusting. Despite being a mere 22 years old, I seemed to be living the life of a much older man. Oh, and Morgan was just 15 I think.
Initially irked, I couldn't help but notice that I'd always secretly wanted a massive beard.
"Hmm, a bit of exercise, and I'll be the Viking hunk," I chuckled, giving my belly a playful slap.
It was an unexpected transformation, but after inhabiting so many bodies, I figured I could adapt.
Stepping toward the window, I peered outside as the cool breeze of summer caressed my face, contemplating the task ahead.
"So, I'll be raising Morgan Le Fay for kingship, huh?" My smile morphed into a mischievous grin. Given her portrayal as malevolent and cruel, I surmised it was time to shed my good-guy persona for a while.
---
(3rd Person's POV)
Morgan Pendragon, born of the fairy lineage that flowed through Uther Pendragon, was a unique being with a purpose—to safeguard the British Isles and preserve its mystical essence.
Her intricate plan involved marrying King Lot of Orkney to harness his power for a raid on Vortigern's territory. Despite her disdain for humans, particularly King Lot, she was willing to go to any lengths to achieve her goal. King Lot, renowned as a wise ruler loved by his people and strategically positioned far from Vortigern's clutches, seemed like the perfect pawn.
However, her optimism crumbled when she laid eyes on the portly man. Anticipating a union with a great king, she found herself confronted with a chubby clown, notorious for his inappropriate behavior with women in the castle.
Undeterred, she attempted to take matters into her own hands, resorting to casting an aphrodisiac spell on the corpulent man. To her dismay, whether the spell failed or some other factor was at play, her husband abruptly woke up.
To add to the shock, he revealed something astounding—Uther was in the process of creating another heir. Initially dismissing it as a bluff, Morgan, possessing the ability to discern lies and truths as a fairy, recognized that King Lot wasn't deceiving her.
"Am I not beautiful enough?" The thought struck Morgan, irking her. Throughout the marriage, King Lot had eyed her like a hungry dog, and yet, after awakening, he dared to deny intimacy with her.
Fueled by irritation, Morgan made her way to the field where her husband was meant to be waiting. However, upon entering the field, she caught sight of King Lot and narrowed her eyes, a mixture of surprise and suspicion crossing her features.
King Lot's transformation was nothing short of astonishing. Shedding excess weight, he now stood taller at around 6'2, his once chubby arms now firm and swollen. While a bit of his big belly remained, it was no longer a mass of fat. He had even groomed his hair, weaving his locks and beard into braids, and his eyes exuded a newfound determination.
What stunned Morgan most was the shift in his presence—a domineering aura, surrounded by an unmistakable majesty. She could hardly believe her eyes; this person embodied true kingship and warrior prowess. In fact, he might be the strongest individual she had ever encountered. The spear in his hand looked like an artifact from the age of gods, capable of ending her with a single blow.
In a rare moment of vulnerability, Morgan acknowledged that he surpassed her in strength. Even a combination of Vortigern and Uther wouldn't stand a chance against him. And, she couldn't help but notice—he looked quite handsome. No, focus, Morgan!
"Who are you?" Morgan held her ground, asserting herself as a fairy and the rightful leader of the isles.
"I am King Lot and your husband, Morgan Pendragon. Do not question my identity," King Lot declared with a domineering voice. "Morgan Pendragon, I know you're from fairy origin and adept in magecraft. Come at me with full power. Make me kneel, and I'll reveal everything. Otherwise, submit to me. I won't move for one minute. Now come!"
Anger ignited within her, and though weaker in strength, she believed in the might of her magecraft. Raising her staff, she cast a spell with lightning speed. A curse ball materialized and shot directly at her husband. BOOM! A perfect hit, or so she thought. Yet, after the smoke cleared, King Lot emerged unscathed, not even flinching.
"Hm," King Lot nonchalantly rubbed his shoulder, unfazed by the explosive impact.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Morgan fired three more attacks, but none made him budge. Gritting her teeth, she decided to go all out.
"Strengthening. Mana Enhancing! Oh mother earth, provide me the wisdom to raise." Magic circles formed around King Lot as Morgan began casting a powerful spell. Reluctant at first, she was now out of options. Completing the spell, she chanted the last word.
"Beg—!!"
Her words were cut short as the blade of a spear found its way into her mouth. The person wielding it was none other than her husband, King Lot.
"You lose, Morgan Pendragon."
The suddenness of King Lot's victory left Morgan bewildered. How had he covered such distance in the blink of an eye? Numerous questions swirled in Morgan's mind, but she couldn't voice a single one. Her legs trembled before the imposing figure, a giant whose very presence could melt her.
Yet, she refused to falter. An internal voice warned her that any sign of weakness here would cost her the throne. So, she stilled her trembling legs and met King Lot's gaze head-on.
After a few tense moments, King Lot smiled and lowered his spear. "You did well, Morgan," he complimented, then posed an unusual question, "Why do you desire the rule of these isles, Morgan Pendragon?"
Caught off guard, Morgan widened her eyes but quickly regained her composure. "I... I want to unify this country and rule these Isles. The land is crying, and even beyond my duty as the designated king to save these isles and their mystery, I believe only I can guide the people to their rightful path. Only I can rule them."
King Lot smiled and slammed the hilt of his spear on the ground. "Excellent. How about I help you rule this country? I'll provide you with forces as well as wealth. I will guide you to true kingship."
Morgan was left speechless and perplexed. Where did this offer come from?
"But why? What is there for you, Milord?" she inquired.
"Amusement," King Lot grinned, then pointed a finger toward her. "Ten years. In that time, you will face Vortigern and kill him. Until then, I will guide you and teach you everything about rule and strategy."
Morgan doubted if King Lot was jesting until she read his fate. As a fairy, attuned to the winds and stars, she discerned that they all pointed to King Lot of the Orkney.
"For the first time in her life, she could see her dream coming true."
"I want to agree, but there is one condition," Morgan stated firmly.
"What is it?"
"I want to be the sole ruler of these isles," Morgan declared. If she aimed for true leadership, she needed to govern alone, without sharing or external influence. She didn't even want King Lot to be part of the rule.
"Very well. Now bow and submit to me, accepting me as your sole mentor and advisor. Until you become the sole ruler of this country, you will listen to everything I have to say."
Morgan nodded in understanding and gracefully bowed. "I, Morgan Pendragon of fairy origin, hereby accept my husband, King Lot, as my teacher and mentor. I shall follow you until I am the sole ruler of these isles."
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