Victory and Defeat

Artorius pressed Morgan tightly, his gleaming silver-frosted magic sword, Clarent, poised at her neck. In the blink of an eye, he could sever her fair neck, separating her beautiful head from her body.

Artorius's Reality Marble had vanished without a trace. The castle had returned to its 'normal' state, with all of Morgan's deployed creatures crushed.

In contrast, the non-combatant and weaker creatures had been spared. For example, the musician puppets continued their performance. However, due to internal magecraft malfunctions, the melodies they played were discordant, akin to a broken tune.

"Well, I must say, Morgan, you really made this Prince break a sweat."

Morgan's poison had indeed posed a significant challenge for Artorius.

Despite the tremendous transformation in Artorius's foundation or concept, from 'Dragon of Britain' to 'Dragon of the Emperor' and 'Dragon of Europe'; while 'White Dragon' refined through the baptism of the Teutoburg Forest, ascending as 'Frost Dragon'. His power had also greatly increased after devouring numerous Germanic tribes and embodying the concept of a 'Germanic Ruler'.

But the pain still persisted.

Targeted poisons were still targeted poisons after all. Although their effectiveness had diminished, it was akin to reducing a potentially lethal pneumonia to a severe cold. It was still uncomfortable, still painful.

Of course, he had long grown accustomed to pain. His body, honed beneath his elegant attire, bore scars crisscrossing it. Aside from the scars on his face that needed to be eliminated, Artorius retained all of those as his 'medals'.

While Artorius was happy as he gain victory, Morgan on the other hand... even in defeat, also felt happy.

"Hahaha..."

As Artorius laughed merrily, Morgan found herself thinking, 'It wouldn't be so bad to be killed by him like this.'

After all, her life had always been chaotic. A chaotic life, coupled with an ironically fitting death for a witch, seemed quite appropriate.

However, that was not the case.

To Morgan's astonishment, Artorius's blade passed beside her neck, and then, with an air of superiority, he kissed her passionately.

Morgan resisted only slightly as her frozen body, encased in the icy stillness, melted under the warmth of the moment. She grabbed hold of Artorius's back, viciously digging her ten nails into him.

"Don't misunderstand..." Artorius said, his gaze flickering. He continued speaking in a pleasurable yet condescending tone, "This Prince isn't interested in an old hag like you. It was merely a contingency measure to ensure your limbs wouldn't freeze. After all, I still need you for my plan."

Morgan's response to Artorius came in the form of a slap across his face.

Of course, before it could hit its target, Artorius grabbed her wrist.

Morgan glared at the arrogant guy who had pinned her down and spoke shamelessly. He seduced her to such an extent but refused to take any responsibility.

This guy was a bastard.

With that thought, Morgan's other hand swung toward Artorius's face once more. Naturally, it was caught again. Her attempt to kick his knee was also suppressed, and in close-quarters combat, he had the upper hand.

"Don't go too far, old hag..." Artorius said to her.

In the next moment, the dagger that had previously pierced Artorius's abdomen was transferred to his hand, and without hesitation, he used it to stab Morgan's body, exactly where he had been wounded before.

"Ughh!"

Intense pain caused Morgan's body to convulse. Her eyes widened, and tears uncontrollably streamed down her face. Before she could scream in agony, Artorius covered her mouth with his hand.

"Rejoice and consider yourself fortunate that you're still alive because you are still useful to this Prince. Otherwise, the punishment for raising a hand against this Prince would be much worse than this."

Artorius spoke to her in such a manner. Only then did he release his grip on her mouth and rise from her body.

"Ugh... you bastard! I've never seen such a despicable bastard like you!" Morgan who struggled to get up, rebuked the scum of the knight world with trembling words, "You... you... you..."

...And then her words stopped there.

Confronted by Artorius's aggressively piercing eyes, feminine vulnerability and fear engulfed Morgan's heart, leaving her trembling and almost powerless to resist.

Observing the pitiful state of this woman, clearly already in a disadvantageous position, unable even to muster a bold retort, Artorius revealed a delighted smile.

He approached once again, enveloping her in his embrace. The effects of fear, along with her inexplicable state of mind, allowed Artorius to control Morgan as he pleased.

"So, it's settled..." Artorius spoke to her with a teasing tone. "For a first encounter, I'm quite satisfied with your abilities. So, let's meet often in the future, Aunt Morgan~"

"Argh!"

With that, Artorius withdrew the dagger from Morgan's body. The excruciating pain caused her to spasm.

"I'm going back to accompany Little Mo. I will take this as a token of our meeting." Artorius stowed away the dagger and, with a magnetic tone, whispered in her ear. "Continue to assist me. If you manage to please me, I'll ensure your satisfaction as well, my dear aunt. Hahaha~"

Amidst the cheerful laughter, Dragon Prince Artorius vanished without a trace, leaving behind a scorching frost and a wounded witch overwhelmed by a sense of defeat resonating within her.

===

Author's note:

Clarent was initially silver in color, but when it fell into Mordred's hands in canon, it transformed into an evil sword of hatred with a dark red color scheme. However, when wielded by Artorius, the sword took on a silver frost hue.