What an unexpected windfall.
Morgan and Samael exchanged a nod, then immediately invited the couple to join their party.
Having two ordinary people accompany them would undoubtedly be a burden, and given how dangerous the journey was, the couple stood a considerable chance of becoming unfortunate casualties.
However, the wilderness was filled with deadly threats, including Magical Beasts, bandits, Insects of the Abyss, and reanimated corpses.
At the same time, their status as slaves made even the cities where they might seek refuge extremely dangerous.
The chances of two masterless slaves surviving a journey of thousands of miles to the Holy City were easy to imagine.
For them, remaining with the group was actually the safer option. Nock's decision was undoubtedly a wise one.
Clearly, the fact that the enslaved couple had escaped their lord's territory and made it this far unharmed was not due to luck alone.
During their conversation, the others also learned the young woman's name. Dail, meaning "one who dwells in the valley among the hills." It was yet another casual name connected to the fiefdom where she had lived.
As the night deepened, Samael noticed the thinly dressed couple shivering and offered them one of the tents for the night.
Having rarely encountered such friendly "upper-class" people, the couple thanked him profusely, nearly moved to tears. They also conscientiously pitched their tent at the outer edge of the camp and volunteered to guard the group's belongings.
Once the newcomers had been settled, the other three, none of whom felt particularly sleepy, remained beside the campfire. Using Nock's description, they decided on a new route and revised their travel plans.
"By the way, judging from what you said earlier, you seem rather familiar with the King of Knights."
During a lull in the conversation, Samael glanced at Morgan and tentatively voiced his curiosity.
The witch looked at her inquisitive companion, paused briefly, and answered evenly.
"I'm her older sister..."
"Your Highness, the King's elder sister?"
"Half-sister!"
Morgan frowned slightly and repeated herself with a cold snort, deliberately drawing a firm boundary between them. She clearly had no desire to be associated too closely with the King of Knights.
Even so, her blunt honesty surprised Samael.
Hmm. Their relationship had taken another step forward.
When Morgan noticed both of her companions watching her with obvious fascination, she began to regret being so candid. Their curious stares left her thoroughly uncomfortable.
"Stop looking at me like that. I'm not close to that wom... that person. We hardly ever meet."
The witch then remembered the promise she had made earlier, and her head began to ache again.
"Tsk. I truly don't want to lower myself and watch her act so high and mighty. Being around her always brings back unpleasant memories..."
"You mean abolishing the right of the first night? You could ask the Knights of the Round Table to advise her. Don't they oppose that vile custom as well?"
Noticing Morgan's reluctance, Samael offered a suggestion.
Morgan merely shook her head. When she looked at him again, there was a hint of surprise in her eyes.
"I thought you knew..."
"Knew what?"
"They oppose it because they have no need for such a privilege."
Samael blinked, still not entirely understanding.
"Among the Knights of the Round Table, the two most outstanding are Lancelot and Gawain. Do you know what the common people call them?"
Her superior knowledge gave Morgan an inexplicable sense of satisfaction. She folded her arms beneath her chest, and the corners of her lips rose almost imperceptibly.
"Come on, tell us!"
The moment gossip entered the conversation, the nearby troublemaker eagerly leaned closer, grinning as she urged Morgan on.
Morgan disdainfully knocked away the hand Mari had placed on her shoulder. Her deep blue eyes then turned teasingly toward the only man present as she spoke slowly, her words heavy with implication.
"Lancelot is known as the 'Lover of Britannia,' while Gawain's nickname is 'No Virgin Left in His Domain'..."
"Cough, cough..."
Samael coughed violently and looked away.
He truly had not known those two were so formidable.
Only after hearing Morgan's explanation did the Ancient Serpent understand how they had earned those names.
Legend held that Lancelot possessed fairy blood and had been raised by fairies as a child. His appearance, bearing, and manners were all considered peerless.
Gawain likewise came from an illustrious family, as a member of a branch of the royal house. He had also received Morgan's Gift, making him another prince charming of the highest order.
Ordinary women were hardly the only ones unable to resist the appeal of those Knights of the Round Table. Even fairies and noble ladies fell prey to their charm.
Thus, in the many legends told about them, the Knights of the Round Table devoted themselves not only to slaying Magical Beasts, ending disasters, and rescuing the people, but also to saving beautiful women in distress.
Adventure and romance naturally went hand in hand, and for most people, bearing the child of someone with noble blood was something worth taking pride in.
Those Knights of the Round Table had no need for any so-called right to a woman's virginity, nor did they need to force women to surrender themselves. All they had to do was show their faces. They could travel from place to place, sleeping with women wherever they went.
There was never any shortage of women throwing themselves into their arms.
Otherwise, how could so many bastards be scattered across the land when those superior bloodlines were supposedly so difficult to continue?
The Round Table's band of gigolos truly lived up to its reputation...
As Samael reflected on this, a strange sense of unease crept over him.
Never refusing, yet never taking the initiative. Why did that sound so much like him?
"Do you understand now? Slaves have always sacrificed themselves for their masters, subjects have risked their lives for their lords, and knights have sworn loyalty to their kings. Those members of the Round Table do not care whether the right of the first night exists. Naturally, they would never trouble their King over such a minor issue or challenge the entire system for it."
Morgan gave a mocking smile, as though speaking from experience.
"Are you envious? I could recommend you to the Knights of the Round Table."
The witch then cast a lingering glance at the contemplative man, deliberately drawing out her words.
A faint but unmistakable sense of danger made every hair on Samael's body stand on end.
"Queen Sister, you... are my employer!"
The Ancient Serpent had survived countless deadly romantic confrontations. He immediately snapped to attention, his expression solemn as he made his declaration with absolute conviction.
Queen Sister? What a strange way to address her.
Morgan froze briefly before recovering. When she looked at Samael again, an indescribable softness had entered her gaze.
"Very good. I have only one requirement for my retainer. You must always remember where your loyalty lies and devote everything you have to me."
"Does that really count as one requirement?"
"Doesn't it?"
"..."
"It is only one, and a very simple one at that. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Uh... Whatever you say."
Under Morgan's icy stare, Samael admitted defeat and nodded reluctantly.
Satisfied with his answer, the witch lifted her chin proudly. She also glanced at the white-haired Succubus watching from nearby, clearly savoring the triumph of her little display.
Mari's eyes shifted thoughtfully. She stroked her chin, then looked toward the camp with a cheerful smile.
"There are only two tents left, and that doesn't seem like enough. Why don't Samael and I make do together tonight while you take one for yourself? You don't mind, do you?"
"Absolutely not!"
Before Samael could respond, Morgan's face darkened, and she objected without thinking.
"Oh, then forget it. You can sleep with him."
The thoroughly mischievous white-haired woman smiled even more brightly and waved a hand. Without allowing any argument, she slipped into one of the tents and activated its defensive spell.
Uh...
The witch, who had been so forceful only moments before, immediately fell silent. Her expression froze as she stared helplessly at the man beside her.
This was not how the script was supposed to go...
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