Meanwhile, at Cornwall Castle.
An unexpected visitor arrived in the guest room of the old Knight Ector.
"Your Highness Morgan, what brings you here?"
"Why shouldn't I be here?"
The aloof witch answered with a cool, indifferent barb. She casually stopped the old knight from offering his seat with all due formality, then went straight to the point.
"I already know what's happening outside. You've done well. I'll leave defending the town and maintaining order to you. I will be responsible for finding the source of the calamity and quelling it. I set out first thing tomorrow morning."
"So soon? Isn't that a little rushed? Perhaps we should ask the Holy City…"
Ector froze for a moment, then tested the waters with a question.
Morgan rejected him coldly. "This is a notice, not a request."
The old knight smiled and quickly nodded with deference, completely unconcerned by her forceful attitude.
Still, when it came to handling the calamity, Sir Ector could not help asking one more thing.
"Your Highness, this disturbance is no ordinary matter. Do you need me to assign more people to investigate the cause with you?"
"No need. I have a better candidate."
Morgan heard the goodwill in the old knight's words, and this time there was no sharpness in her manner. She simply declined in a calm voice.
"Very well. With you personally taking action to quell the calamity, I'm sure this crisis will soon pass. This old man can finally arrange the defenses with peace of mind."
Hearing this, Ector did not insist any further. With a hearty laugh, he tactfully signed a written order and personally escorted Morgan to the door.
"One more thing. Treat this as if I never came."
"Understood."
Having received his promise, the veiled witch did not linger. Like smoke and mist, she gradually vanished into the night.
"My lord, with the King absent, trusting this lady so much seems a little…"
In the darkness, the retainer knight who had served Ector for many years stepped forward, unable to stop himself from offering a warning.
"If you don't want to go back home and raise horses, then pretend you saw nothing and keep that foul mouth of yours shut!"
The old knight shot a glare at the old fellow, whose hair was just as gray as his own. After a pause, his eyes turned deep and bright.
"What is there to worry about? This is my King's Britannia, and it is also her Southern Realm…"
...
As the night deepened, the figure going upstairs could not help lightening her footsteps as she approached the room.
The door creaked open. Inside, the lamplight was faint. The man by the bed was softly humming an unnamed song, lulling the troublesome little one in the swaddling clothes into a deeper sleep.
Shh…
Samael lowered the hand gently patting the infant's back, then raised the index finger of his right hand in a gesture for silence. Morgan understood at once.
The two quietly left the doorway and went to the quiet room next door, where they lit a lamp and sat across from each other.
"I accepted the appointment. I'm preparing to form a small team to find the source of the crisis and quell the calamity."
Morgan spread Sir Ector's written order across the table. Then, after a brief pause, she formally extended an invitation to the man before her.
"So, Samael, are you willing to travel with me?"
As she reached out and waited for his answer, Morgan felt an inexplicable unease. Every minute and every second seemed to stretch longer.
"Before I decide, may I ask one question first?"
Samael's expression turned solemn. That dignified air made Morgan grow a little tense despite herself.
"Go ahead…"
"Is room and board included?"
"Of course!"
Morgan froze for a moment before answering instinctively.
"Then there's no problem!"
Samael agreed readily. Only then did Morgan come back to herself. When she saw the smile in the man's eyes, she immediately realized he had already made his decision. He had merely been teasing her.
"What, were you afraid I couldn't afford your commission? Hmph. Once you help me quell the calamity, it won't just be food and lodging. An estate, a fief, honor… Whatever you want, as long as I have it, I can grant it to you!"
Morgan turned her head aside and gave a soft snort, her lips pursed. Beneath her veil, her face seemed to flush with an unnatural blush.
"Then, for this battle, I place this sword in your hands. This body shall serve under you and obey your command!"
Samael smiled freely and performed a proper knight's salute toward his employer.
Morgan nodded in satisfaction and turned away with reserved composure, never noticing the unusual seriousness that flickered in those lowered vertical pupils beneath the lamplight.
And after only one night, this witch employer was deeply grateful for her decision.
...
The next morning, just after daybreak, Morgan came downstairs and saw Samael waiting on the long street outside, driving a fully loaded carriage.
Inside were all the supplies they needed, including seasonings, drinking water, food, maps, and more.
There was even a secured baby cradle in the corner of the carriage. The thoughtfulness was almost excessive.
Without having to trouble herself at all, everything had been arranged perfectly. Morgan could not have been more satisfied with this partner of hers.
The only flaw was that there was also a mumbling female drunkard crammed into the slightly narrow carriage.
Her white hair was tangled into a complete mess, and her pointed ears were swollen a purplish-red, as if they had been violently tormented for quite some time.
At the same time, the woman was curled up facedown inside the carriage. Her raised hips stretched her loose clothes to their limit, making it difficult for her even to turn over.
The slightest bump in the road made the fun-seeker, who had been so full of herself last night, let out an unconscious whimper from her throat.
"I only invited you. I didn't invite her…"
Morgan pushed away the white-haired "kind big sister" beside her, who was using her arm as a pillow, and shifted farther away in disgust, her face faintly displeased.
She had never had a good impression of this frivolous, lazy woman to begin with.
After hearing last night that Mari had actually fed alcohol to the newborn Barghest, Morgan had labeled her as "human scum," so naturally she had no desire to share a carriage with her.
"You have to pay to invite me. She's just the extra. Free of charge!"
Samael blinked and teased her playfully.
The witty answer made Morgan burst out laughing. Her mood improved considerably, and even the white-haired creature beside her, snoring away while hugging a bottle, became much easier to tolerate.
To be honest, Samael was not especially willing to bring along a troublesome person like Mari either.
But considering that a fairy's sense of good and evil could not be predicted or judged, leaving this woman outside might lead to yet another disaster.
Rather than exhaust himself cleaning up her mess afterward, it was better to keep Mari tied to his side in advance, discipline her strictly, and reduce the chance of her losing control.
And so, after Samael finished his shopping that morning, he dragged a certain drunken Incubus out of a nearby tavern.
Of course, before taking her in, a beating was unavoidable.
After all, beings like Incubuses existed somewhere between illusion and reality, born from dreams. One could even say that no matter how many times conventional methods killed her, she would take advantage of the situation and pop out from somewhere again afterward.
So the Ancient Serpent had struck without the slightest hesitation.
Mm. He had to admit, very pale, very big, very soft.
Samael glanced at the kind big sister sleeping soundly with her backside raised and her head buried in the pile of supplies. He could not help savoring the sensation still lingering in his palm. A thread of malice rose in his vertical pupils, and his fingertips inexplicably felt hot and itchy.
Perhaps eating, sleeping, and beating Mari could become the three fixed parts of his daily routine from now on?
After letting his thoughts wander for a moment, the Ancient Serpent pulled himself back and turned to discuss the next leg of the journey with Morgan.
"For now, we've destroyed the dog-demons' nest, and the Beast Plague in various places has been brought under preliminary control. Darlington's Insect Plague is the most serious. We should go there first and take a look. Hopefully we can find some useful clues."
Morgan spread out the map and planned the route with Samael. As she thought of the intelligence she had read, her brow furrowed slightly.
"However, Darlington has already gone silent. Every route has been cut off by revived corpses, so the road there will probably be difficult."
"Then what's our next stop?"
"The Northern Wastes!"
The witch's pale, slender fingertip landed on the large crimson marker. For some reason, her heart gave a sudden jolt, and the hairs on her body stood on end, as if some indescribable terror were waiting ahead for her arrival.
***
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