No matter who designed this setup, Thea found it completely ridiculous.
Medieval mages actually thought they could tempt her with wealth. How much money had they ever seen in their lives?
Status and power were even more of a joke. They followed King Arthur to the death, fought to the death, and at best obtained a small fief. In modern terms, it might not even be larger than a ranch in Texas. A landowner guarding a few acres trying to discuss status and power with Thea—someone aiming to control the lifeblood of the global economy? It was laughable.
As for women, they were an even more absurd temptation. She might have the interest, but she definitely didn't have the stamina. Dealing with just Diana already required her to exhaust every trick she had. Add two more beauties? Spare her.
That rotating golden cube was nothing more than a clue pointing to the Book of Magic—an unmistakable product of the world's malice. On the other side of that book lay a technological plane that rejected all supernatural power. How careless would she have to be to even consider coveting such a thing? Even if it were handed to her for free, she wouldn't want it.
Nick Necro and Felix Faust, those two major villains, most likely failed to resist the temptation. They probably hugged the golden cube with glee, rushed off to search for the trap-filled Book of Magic, and in doing so missed things that were far more important.
The corpse's bewitching aura seemed to function as a kind of filter. Sensing that Thea had broken free of its influence, the strange rhythm withdrew its power and gradually fell silent.
"I come from the void. Starlight shines upon the fountain. Flames burn beneath the azure dome. The winds of the four seasons… the winds of the four seasons sigh upon distant shores…"
An antique high-backed chair suddenly appeared in the dark chamber. Seated upright upon it was a beautiful woman.
She wore a flowing, iridescent purple robe. Her figure was graceful, her curves elegant. Her eyes flickered with a lightness like glancing reflections. Most striking of all was her long golden hair, shimmering with flowing colors. Her bearing was ethereal and otherworldly, and her words carried an archaic cadence, as though they concealed profound truths.
Thea stared at her intently, listening with restrained tension as the woman recited her opening lines in a songlike tone. Several defensive spells had already been condensed into gemstones, all clenched in Thea's palm. At the slightest sign of danger, she would trigger them without hesitation, ensuring she remained invincible.
However, midway through the recitation, the blonde woman faltered. Her calm, clear gaze flicked quickly toward Thea's half-open palm before she continued.
"The farewell sunlight fills us with reluctance. Past events rise vividly before our eyes. The breeze… the breeze drifts and wanders…"
She glanced once more at Thea's hand. The small movement shattered her previously cold and dignified aura, yet she acted as if nothing had happened. Thea's eyelid twitched involuntarily.
This one looked serious—but she was clearly a goofball.
"Cough, cough."
Thea cleared her throat, making her presence known. She had noticed the woman straightening herself again, clearly intending to continue the recital.
"Hm?"
The blonde woman was interrupted and glanced at Thea instinctively. Then her expression changed as if she had made a startling discovery.
"Merlin's bloodline? Impossible! A thousand years later, the one who comes to see me is actually Old Man Merlin's descendant?!"
She abandoned the chair entirely and, with movements utterly incompatible with her lofty appearance, scrambled up onto the giant coffin. She inspected the white skeleton closely, muttering to herself.
"This makes no sense. That old Merlin was greedy, lustful, and full of bad habits. These spell formations are still running—how could they possibly allow his descendant to enter?"
Thea's smile turned strained. The temptations she had just endured were still fresh in her mind. Greedy and lustful? Was that really her great ancestor? The grand image of the Archmage in her heart shattered instantly.
Combining the woman's words with her current spiritual form, her identity was no longer difficult to infer. Still, Thea asked to confirm.
"And you are…?"
After rummaging over the skeleton without finding anything, the woman scratched her head in confusion, jumped down from the coffin, and walked over to Thea. Under Thea's wary gaze, she made a gesture comparing their heights.
"Oh my, Merlin's descendant—you're not very tall. As for me? I'm a clone of Morgan le Fay. Can't you tell? Haven't you heard of my main body's great name?"
She spoke in a bright, lively tone completely mismatched with her appearance, then smiled smugly, clearly pleased that she was taller than Thea.
Thea's eye twitched.
By all reason, her height—1.79 meters—was considered tall among women, only a few centimeters shorter than Diana's 1.83 meters. When attending events in high heels, few people even dared to stand beside her for photos.
But compared to Morgan le Fay's 1.9-meter stature, those advantages vanished. Thea couldn't help but complain internally: Are you really a mage and not a basketball player? So many stories described mages as tall and thin—did this profession secretly come with a height bonus?
Remembering her original purpose, Thea spoke again.
"I know Archmage Morgan le Fay. She was one of the greatest figures of Merlin's era, and also King Arthur's half-sister."
She deliberately avoided mentioning anything about dark magic before continuing.
"Where is your main body now?"
The blonde woman clasped her hands behind her back and sighed softly.
"The main body has long since left this world. She probably ran off somewhere to have fun."
Thea felt her eye twitch in exasperation.
She finally understood—this clone no longer had any real connection to the original. Either the distance was too great, or Morgan le Fay herself had severed control long ago.
This woman, identical in appearance to the original, had developed an entirely new personality. Although she retained the main body's knowledge, growing up in isolation had left her with a childlike simplicity.
Thea put away two of the gemstones in her hand. Just as she was about to speak, the blonde woman suddenly slapped her forehead.
"Ah! You came here specifically to undergo the trial left behind by the main body, didn't you?"
Completely unaware of how much information she had just revealed, the blonde woman stared at Thea with sparkling eyes.
Morgan le Fay's trial?!
Thea's heart rate spiked instantly, only to be forcibly suppressed. Thoughts collided at lightning speed—dozens, then hundreds—before converging into a single conclusion:
Agree first.
"Yes. I came here to accept the trial."
Even though she had known nothing a second earlier, Thea answered with absolute certainty.
The blonde woman was clearly pleased. She struck her right fist into her left palm, then turned around and rummaged through the void with her back to Thea.
"Where did I put it? Honestly, this place is such a mess…"
After searching for a full ten minutes, she finally pulled out a tattered parchment.
Glancing at the first line, she cleared her throat.
"First condition: the one undergoing the trial must be female. You are female, right?"
At those words, half of Thea's face darkened. With drooping eyelids, she nodded silently.