(I forgot to add this paragraph in last chap..so here it is)..
Morgan didn't explain anything, instead, she simply turned and left first, and Alvin followed closely behind.
Although he wasn't sure what it was, anything that could make Sister Morgan this serious had to be something extremely special...
What exactly could it be...?
.
.
.
Even though his heart was full of questions, Alvin still left the garden following Morgan.
Before he realized it, they had walked through a small path, passed several palace buildings, and soon arrived at a lakeside.
A white mist drifted over the surface of the lake. Alvin lifted his head and could only vaguely see Morgan's silhouette.
Her chest was full and shapely, her curves pronounced in all the right places, outlining her alluring figure to perfection.
The two reached the water's edge and Morgan stopped, lifted the hem of her dress, walked to the edge, and sat down on the grass.
"What did Sister Morgan call me here for?"
Looking at the irresistible beauty in front of him, Alvin blanked for a moment, before asking.
"Just come sit for a bit."
Morgan didn't answer, only raised a hand to gesture at him.
Alvin silently walked over and sat beside her, stealing another glance at the woman.
The slightly damp air carried a faint intoxicating fragrance.
The veiled woman let her platinum-white hair fall loosely down her back. Her luxurious dress trailed on the ground like a blooming flower.
Her figure was beautifully curved, a ribbon at her waist outlining a slender shape barely wide enough for one hand to circle.
Her proportions were perfect, and her proud, lifted chest, strained against the fabric of her dress, revealing a faint glimpse of snowy skin.
Even without seeing her face, this woman was already a absolute seductress.
And her face....
Unable to hold back, Alvin reached out, hooked a finger under the hazy veil covering Morgan's face, and gently tugged it away.
Under the hazy mist, a breathtakingly beautiful face came into view.
It was nearly identical to Artoria's, yet while Artoria carried a heroic and gallant air, Morgan exuded an aloof, unattainable coldness.
But her bewitching, almost witch-like figure made one's imagination run wild; drawing the eye without effort.
At this moment, as she sat sideways on the grass by the lake, her long, fair, and shapely legs faintly visible.
Her delicate, snow-white feet were adorned with jelly-pink nail polish; at a glance they looked like priceless jade, tempting one to cradle them in their palms and feel their warmth.
"Truly beautiful."
Suddenly having her veil pulled away, Morgan lifted her head to glare at the young man, only to hear his almost reflexive praise.
The anger that had just risen in her chest instantly melted away.
Her pupils contracted slightly, and an unconscious blush swiftly spread across her cool, elegant face.
Sister Morgan was always cold and distant, undeniably beautiful but hard to approach.
Yet when she showed this bit of shyness, she suddenly felt more human... actually, she was even cuter when she was shy.
As Alvin admired her astonishing face, he couldn't help praising her silently in his heart.
No wonder Morgan le Fay had been called a "witch" by the nobles in the past.
It wasn't just her personality... even her figure and the aura she carried were exactly like a seductive sorceress.
You knew she was a rose with thorns, but you still couldn't help being drawn to her.
Sensing Alvin's unwavering gaze, Morgan quietly took a slow breath to steady herself.
Then a disdainful look appeared on her face. She glanced at him and said, "How boring... That line would only work on girls with no dating experience."
The problem is, your reaction right now doesn't exactly scream "experienced"... Alvin smiled to himself, reached out, and took Morgan's small hand in his.
"You—"
The latter glared at him in embarrassment, instinctively trying to pull her hand away.
"Big Sister is still as tsundere as ever."
Alvin chuckled.
His other hand slid to her leg, moving downward before lightly poking the sole of her foot.
"Mm~"
Morgan trembled softly, a sweet, enchanting sound escaping her red lips, and her beautiful eyes instantly grew moist..
She lifted those watery eyes to glare at him again, but with her flushed, intoxicatingly red cheeks, the threat had absolutely no bite, instead, it made her even more tempting.
Alvin completely ignored it and slipped off one of her high-heeled shoes.
Her bare foot was white as snow, as if the drifting mist had left beads of dew on her pale instep.
"You must be tired of living. Good thing there's no one around. I'll just drown you in the lake later!"
Morgan blurted out, embarrassed and angry.
If it were anyone else, their head would've already been separated from their body... but with Alvin, Morgan could do nothing but threaten him with words.
Alvin, however, didn't react at all.
Among all the women he knew, though each had her own charm, Alvin prided himself on being able to judge a woman by her legs alone.
If Artoria existed in the modern world, she'd definitely have the body of a fitness-model type.
Morgan le Fay, on the other hand, felt softer, more delicate.
Her skin was paler than Artoria's, and when you touched it, it was cool and smooth like fine jade.
"Wait... don't make me take action."
The arrogant edge in her voice had suddenly softened; there was now a hint of pleading.
Recalling how ruthlessly sharp-tongued Morgan usually was, a mischievous idea popped into Alvin's head as he teased, "If you beg me, I might consider letting go."
"Beg you? Have you forgotten who I am?" Morgan let out a cold laugh, as if she'd just heard the funniest joke in the world.
She was the "Isle Sovereign" of Britain, the witch feared by all the nobles... and this guy actually wanted her to beg him?
How amusing—
The moment that thought crossed her mind, her delicate body suddenly stiffened, the reason...at some point, Alvin's hands had already slid around her waist.
Morgan's figure was unbelievably soft; even through the layers of her dress, he could still feel the exquisite elasticity of her skin.
"You..."
Morgan glared at him, a mix of embarrassment and anger in her eyes.
Seeing that he remained completely unfazed, she lightly bit her lower lip, lowered her head, and whispered almost inaudibly, "P-please..."
Only then did Alvin reveal a satisfied smile and release her.
Morgan shot him a furious glare, grinding her teeth. "I never should have brought you here... I shouldn't have kept that thing for you at all."
Alvin's curiosity was instantly piqued as he asked. "What exactly is this thing you're talking about?"
Morgan gave him a cold, sidelong glance and let out a soft, icy huff.
But in the end, she still raised her right hand and snapped her fingers toward the empty air.
A wave of magical energy rippled outward with Morgan at its center, and faint circles spread across the distant surface of the lake.
Alvin's eyes narrowed slightly as he stared intently at the rippling water.
He could vaguely sense that something... was quietly rising from the depths beneath the lake.
Hum—!
Suddenly, a dazzling golden light flared up from deep within the lakebed.
Alvin focused his gaze, and when he saw what emerged, shock filled his eyes. He turned to Morgan and blurted out, "This can't be..."
"The Faraway Ideal Land."
Morgan smoothed her slightly disheveled dress, her voice still carrying a trace of lingering charm. "You may also call it Avalon."
"Of course, it has another name as well."
She looked at Alvin and said softly, almost like a sigh, "The scabbard of the holy sword."