Morgan gazed at the Dragon Scale in her hand with shock and doubt, her beautiful eyes flickering slightly.
The Dragon Scale was, in fact, a mass-produced Mystic Code.
But—
The fundamental prerequisite for crafting a Dragon Scale was that he was still alive.
Why did Agravain have a Dragon Scale that had only recently been 'completed'?
"Could it be...?"
As if struck by a sudden thought, Morgan's heart trembled.
Suppressing the surge of emotions within her, she raised her hand and pressed her palm against the scale.
The magical energy used in this Mystic Code originated from its creator.
In other words...
By tracing it backward, she could determine the location of the person who had crafted this Mystic Code.
---
...
In the long, silent night, all things were hushed.
The wind rustled through the forest, leaves whispering softly.
Under a towering tree, a black-haired boy sat with a dazed expression, while the iron-clad knight beside him wore a look of deep remorse.
"Apologies... I didn't expect her to devour my Mystic Code in just a single encounter."
Alvin remained stunned for a long while before slowly calming down as he spoke with a forced, gentle smile,
"It's fine... It really isn't your fault. Even if it were any other Knight of the Round Table, I imagine the outcome would have been the same."
"After all, you couldn't have anticipated her return."
Morgan le Fay—she was both the daughter of King Uther and the 'evil' aspect of the Lady of the Lake.
Her mastery of magecraft was beyond question.
In the end, just the fact that Agravain had managed to return to the palace safely was already no small feat.
"Forgive me."
Agravain clearly understood the gravity of his mistake, his low voice filled with resolve: "Rest assured, even if it costs me everything, I will find a way to retrieve the Dragon Scale for you."
"I already said, don't worry about the Mystic Code itself."
Alvin shook his head lightly. "What truly concerns me..."
In fact, the person who understood Alvin best in this world was not Artoria, who had been with him for the longest time and had once been married to him... but rather Artoria's sister.
Morgan le Fay, she understood human nature all too well, and she understood Alvin even better.
Several of the Mystic Codes Alvin had crafted, even the unique authorities he wielded, the magical potions he had consumed... nearly every one bore Morgan's influence in the background.
If there was one thing she truly didn't understand... it would probably be certain adult activities.
Despite always carrying herself like a mature big sister, Morgan's knowledge in that area was practically nonexistent.
Of course, what Alvin was truly worried about now, wasn't any of that, it was the Dragon Scale that had likely fallen into Morgan's hands.
Agravain hesitated slightly before murmuring in a low voice, "Perhaps... Mother hasn't realized that the Dragon Scale was recently forged...?"
Alvin silently glanced at Agravain, whose face was already drenched in sweat, and thought to himself—*Does saying that with such a troubled expression make it any more convincing?*
You can fool your brothers, but don't fool yourself.
And right now, what Alvin was truly concerned about wasn't even whether Morgan knew he was still alive.
What he was really worried about was whether Morgan could use the magical energy in the dragon scales to reversely deduce the coordinates of the person who refined this magic dress?
But this certainly wasn't Agravain's fault.
After all, if it weren't for the enhancement provided by the dragon scale, it was uncertain whether Agravain would have made it back safely at all.
Thinking this, Alvin gently patted the man's shoulder. "Don't dwell on it. What matters is that you're unharmed."
Among the Knights of the Round Table, the Iron Knight only truly considered one person a friend—Alvin.
Agravain lowered his gaze, his voice tinged with quiet concern. "If 'Mother' really comes for you... I doubt the King will show any mercy..."
"That's for me to worry about. You don't have to think too much about it."
Alvin continued, "Where's Reines right now?"
"You're going to see her this late...?" Agravain hesitated as Alvin shook his head and spoke.
"Not me. But I want her to meet Lily. Some things are better settled sooner rather than later."
The time remaining in the deep blue "countdown" box before Alvin's eyes was running short.
He didn't know what would happen when it reached zero.
The end of the world?
Or would he return to his original world, only to realize this had all been a dream?
Or perhaps something even more bizarre and incomprehensible?
But before that, he wanted to take care of everything within his power.
Right now, the relationship between the transmigrators and the Camelot Empire was as tense as fire and water.
The reason the transmigrators had been suppressed so thoroughly likely came down to two factors.
First, the mages of the Age of Gods were simply too powerful... and second, the transmigrators were too disorganized.
In terms of combat prowess, most modern mages were indeed far inferior to those from the Age of Gods.
But the problem was, no one knew exactly which era's mages had descended upon Camelot.
And there was another critical factor—soul transmigration.
Among the transmigrators, there might have been quite a few people who had "possessed" the bodies of certain Age of Gods mages, completely overwriting the original consciousness.
If someone secretly organized these transmigrators to strike back... even Camelot would be in for a world of trouble.
Because of this, Reines' idea was actually correct, the growing tension between the two sides had to be cooled down as soon as possible.
.
.
.
Deep within the royal palace.
Reines slowly opened her eyes, realizing she had somehow fallen asleep on the sofa.
The soft moonlight outside cast a faint glow into the room.
She gently rubbed her temples, stood up, and walked to the windowsill, lighting a lamp.
The warm light added a touch of comfort to the room, allowing Reines' body to gradually relax.
As a noble lady of the El-Melloi family, the hardest thing Reines had ever endured in the past was probably... American coffee.
As a result, ever since transmigrating to the Camelot Empire, one thing after another had happened...Actually, it was okay before, because her nerves had been strained under constant pressure, but, now that she had been settled into a guest room in the palace under Gawain's arrangements, the sudden comfort made her body unwind.
And exhaustion swiftly followed.
But she couldn't rest yet.
Not long ago, Agravain sent someone to deliver a notice saying that someone had persuaded King Arthur to grant her a private audience after the day's affairs were settled.
As for who had arranged this... though Agravain hadn't named any names, Reines could already guess.
The White Dragon... or rather, Camelot's Night Watcher.
Since arriving in the empire, Reines had heard many tales about the "Night Watcher."
He was Camelot's sword and shield, King Arthur's husband, and from the looks of it, his relationship with that witch was also... complicated.
Though in the stories Reines knew, the Night Watcher had supposedly died by King Arthur's hand.
But—
Judging from Agravain's behavior today and the implications in Merlin's words, it seemed to suggest that... the Night Watcher might not actually be dead.
But why would someone from the Camelot Empire be willing to help her?
Knock, knock.*
Just as her thoughts reached this point, a faint knocking sound came from outside the door.
Reines' heart inexplicably tightened for a moment, before, she abruptly stood up, patted her cheeks lightly to steel herself, and forced her spirits to lift.
*Come on, Reines... The hopes of all the transmigrators rest on you now!*
After psyching herself up, the golden-haired girl stood and slowly pushed open the door, only to come face-to-face with the noble and majestic King Arthur.
She wore a crown, her demeanor coldly elegant and regal. But the moment Reines met those saintly blue eyes, an overwhelming aura of majesty crashed over her like a tidal wave.
Though this was already her second time meeting the woman today, Reines still felt an inexplicable nervousness.
If Morgan's authority was the oppressive weight of sheer magical power, then Artoria's presence alone, even with restrained breath, carried an indescribable pressure.
It was quite difficult to put the feeling into words. If she had to describe it, it was like... a goddess descending from the heavens into the mortal world, or something like that.
So close, yet forever out of reach.
"It seems fate has brought us together, Miss Reines."
Artoria gazed calmly at the golden-haired girl and spoke.
"We meet twice in a single day."
The latter took a deep breath and bowed. "It is my honor to see you again, Your Majesty."
Artoria's expression remained placid. "Quite polite... But do you intend to converse at the doorway?"
Only then did Reines snap back to reality, hastily stepping aside to let Artoria enter.
Then, hesitating slightly, she asked, "How is... Alvin doing?"
Artoria, standing with her back to Reines as she looked out the window at the moonlight, replied, "He's fine."
'So Alvin really is in the palace...' Reines thought to herself.
"I heard you two were classmates?"
"Well... you could say that." Reines gave the woman's back a puzzled glance.
Logically, the king's attitude toward transmigrators was far from friendly.
So why had she taken Alvin away when leaving the palace to meet Merlin earlier?
"Were you two close?" Artoria asked casually.
"Mm... I suppose? He was my brother's apprentice, so we often attended the same lectures."
"I see..." Artoria seemed lost in thought.
'Why does it feel like King Arthur is a bit... gossipy?' Reines was utterly baffled.
"You sought this audience because you had something to say, correct?"
At this time, the woman's voice rang out again, effortlessly shifting the topic.
Reines hesitated before speaking carefully, "Your Majesty, what I'm about to say may... displease you."
"Is this about the transmigrators?"
Reines was speechless for a moment.
Artoria glanced at her lightly and continued, "You wish for me to retract my orders and halt the pursuit of transmigrators?"
Reines' hands, hidden in her sleeves, trembled faintly. But she mustered her courage and lifted her head.
"King Arthur... We have no desire to oppose you. In fact, none of us chose to become transmigrators."
Artoria looked at Reines silently, saying nothing.
"Modern magecraft may seem weak in your eyes, but the Clock Tower's twelve departments possess unique mysteries. If the transmigrators continue to exist... perhaps in the future, we could establish a mutually beneficial cooperation."
"Moreover, we can help maintain order among the transmigrators."
Artoria remained silent.
To be honest, she had already considered this issue before ordering the capture of transmigrators.
If more and more transmigrators kept appearing in the future... when would the arrests ever end?
If someone from the modern era could help maintain order... perhaps this would be one viable solution.
And after all... he was also a "transmigrator."
"If I recall correctly, your brother is currently in the palace as well," Artoria suddenly said.
Reines nodded lightly. "He's still unconscious."
"Have him brought to the Throne Hall tomorrow... I will hear his thoughts."
Never before had Reines imagined the conversation would go so smoothly.
Hearing Artoria relent, the girl couldn't hide the joy in her eyes.
She did her best to steady her emotions and bowed respectfully.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
While cooperation wasn't guaranteed yet, at the very least, the King's attitude suggested she had no intention of exterminating the transmigrators.
Looking at the golden-haired girl's delighted expression, a faint smile appeared on Artoria's lips.
In fact, if it been just a day earlier, Reines might not have been able to persuade her.
But now, the King of Knights' mindset had undergone a tremendous shift.
After all... as long as Alvin was still here, there was no difficulty that couldn't be overcome.
After a brief exchange, Artoria prepared to take her leave.
"Allow me to escort you out."
Reines stepped forward, accompanying Artoria to the door.
Yet the moment Artoria stepped outside, her footsteps came to an abrupt halt.
Hum...
A faint tremor rippled through Camelot's magical barrier.
A thread of black magical energy, condensed into a fine line, slithered in from somewhere beyond the palace walls.
After probing its surroundings briefly, it shot straight toward the royal chambers.
Artoria narrowed her eyes and immediately drew her holy sword.
A flash of golden light.
Crack.
The magical "thread" shattered instantly.
Black rain of mana began to fall from the sky.
*Sizzle...*
Where the droplets landed, the grass emitted eerie noises before growing wildly!
Reines stared at the scene in front of her in shock, murmuring, "What... was that just now?"
That wisp of magical energy felt inexplicably familiar... as if she'd seen it somewhere before.
"Morgan's Tracing Magecraft."
Artoria's expression was cold as she watched the black rain fall, her voice quiet but sharp.
"It seems her reaction was faster than I anticipated."
.
.
.
In a back alley of the royal city.
Morgan le Fay slowly opened her eyes, emerging from the mental world of her tracing spell.
Those arrogant, bewitching eyes of hers were filled with shock,
and then, overwhelming delight.
"...Alvin."