Just as Morgan was eagerly waiting to hear more of Lot's thoughts, he suddenly stopped.
He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her tightly against him.
"Sleep. It's time to rest."
Wait you haven't even finished the most crucial part!
How exactly do I become queen?
I still want to know!
Don't leave me hanging like this!
In the end, after straining her ears for a long time with no further revelations, Morgan drifted into a hazy slumber.
...
While Morgan was still asleep, King Uther stood atop the highest tower of the city, gazing out once more over Camelot.
By his side was Merlin his eyes still sporting two dark bruises.
"My era… finally comes to an end today."
King Uther spoke these words with heartfelt solemnity.
His body was deteriorating rapidly.
Soon, he would no longer be able to hold on.
Rather than spending his remaining days bedridden a weakened king at the mercy of scheming nobles he chose to disappear now. At least this way, he would leave behind an air of uncertainty, a lingering threat in the minds of the nobility.
King Uther, the undefeated conqueror, has vanished.
Who knows if he might return?
The nobles would surely hesitate, their ambitions tempered by fear.
Thus, King Uther felt that disappearing now was the best choice.
Merlin, of course, could not be kept in the dark.
So he accompanied the king on this final journey.
Looking at Merlin's bruised eyes, King Uther chuckled.
"I must say, this look suits you. Lot was right you deserved these two black eyes."
"Your Majesty, is this how you treat the loyal servant who stays with you till the end?" Merlin replied with a wry smile.
"Oh? Should I add two more punches, then?" King Uther tilted his head playfully.
"…Let's not."
Merlin quickly took two steps back, as if wary of another sudden attack.
"Hahahaha!"
King Uther laughed heartily at his reaction.
Then, he turned and walked northward.
"I'm off. Let's see how far I can go. Wherever I fall, that's where I'll stay. Merlin… the rest is up to you and Lot. Fight all you want but remember, no matter what happens between you two, don't let anyone else take advantage."
"…Understood."
Merlin watched silently as King Uther disappeared into the distance.
Then, he shook his head lightly.
It was as if he were lamenting the loss of yet another "friend."
"Next comes the era of King Arthur. And when that ends… where will I go?"
Merlin murmured to himself.
But then he remembered with Lot in the picture, even the immediate future was shrouded in uncertainty. The path ahead had grown far more unpredictable.
For now… I must focus on the present.
The distant future can wait.
...
Meanwhile, in Wales.
Vortigern and his forces had just settled in.
The region already had a castle, stocked with ample provisions, allowing Vortigern to establish his foothold quickly.
The foreign tribes, cowed by the White Dragon's overwhelming might, swiftly surrendered.
In a short time, Vortigern had amassed another sizable army.
Yet he knew well these troops, though numerous, were little more than a rabble. Launching a counterattack against England was still unrealistic.
They needed extensive training and reorganization.
That night, however, Vortigern felt a strange premonition.
His gaze turned toward England.
With a soft sigh, he muttered:
"My brother… must have left Camelot today. The rival I fought all my life has finally met his end."
Though King Uther had emerged victorious in their last battle, Vortigern no longer felt like the true loser.
After all… he had outlived the king.
This brief satisfaction lasted only a few seconds before a new thought struck him.
If King Uther is gone… who will be my next opponent?
Vortigern recalled the couple he had faced during the grain storehouse raid.
Though he didn't know the current state of affairs in Camelot, he was certain of one thing—
Those two will be the final victors.
"Scheming, shameless, unreasonable—!"
Vortigern gritted his teeth.
That pair was utterly infuriating.
Bastards.
Next time he saw them, he would capture them and make them pay.
Yet even as vengeful thoughts swirled in his mind, Vortigern knew the truth—
They would not be easy to defeat.
Compared to King Uther, they would be several times more troublesome.
After all… their methods knew no bottom line.
"But perhaps that's for the best. The greater the challenge, the greater the glory when I prevail."
Vortigern consoled himself.
At the same time, he realized he needed more allies to deal with them.
But who could he turn to?
"Do you… require assistance?"
A sudden voice whispered in his ear.
"Who's there?!"
Vortigern clenched his fists, scanning his surroundings.
"We are the fairies…"
Fairies?!
...
...
...
At dawn, the entire city of Camelot was roused by frantic shouts.
Many, still groggy with sleep, stepped outside in irritation only for their anger to turn to shock upon hearing the news.
The sky had fallen.
King Uther of Camelot had vanished.
No one knew where he had gone.
He had simply disappeared without a trace.
No one suspected foul play.
After all, this was the man who had clashed blades with Vortigern himself.
Who could have taken him down without a sound?
Thus, the only explanation was a mysterious disappearance.
The people of Camelot buzzed with theories.
Some said King Uther had gone in search of the Holy Grail.
Others claimed he had sought out the Lady of the Lake.
A few whispered that he had set off to slay a dragon alone.
And there were those who believed he had arranged a final duel with Vortigern and had now departed to meet his fate.
When Lot heard the news, he understood.
King Uther would never let his weakness be seen.
"What a prideful man."
Lot sighed.
"Hm? What did you say, Lot?" Morgan asked.
"Nothing important."
Lot quickly deflected.
He knew King Uther didn't want his daughter to learn of his condition.
Let the mystery remain. Time will soften the blow.
Morgan, having overheard his thoughts, tightened her grip on his hand.
"Where in the world has he gone? Come on, Lot let's search for him."
"Alright."
Lot nodded.
Together, they combed the city though both knew they would not find him.
This was more for solace than anything else.
In the end, as expected, King Uther was nowhere to be found.
By now, he must have traveled far beyond their reach.
...
In the following days, Camelot launched an exhaustive search but a king who did not wish to be found would not be found.
Eventually, the people had no choice but to accept reality.
King Uther was gone.
With the kingdom's affairs piling up, they had no choice but to focus on governance.
Camelot now belonged to Morgan.
Thus, she and Lot remained in the city, handling the backlog of administrative work left in the wake of the war.
The accumulated tasks were staggering.
For over half a month, the two toiled tirelessly until finally, they managed to carve out a single day of respite.
But as they stepped outside, they found the streets bustling with activity.
"What's going on?"
Lot stopped a passerby to inquire.
After weeks of nonstop work, both he and Morgan looked disheveled—hardly like the rulers of Camelot.
The stranger didn't recognize them.
"You haven't heard?"
The man looked surprised.
"Rumors have been spreading whoever pulls the sword from the stone shall be chosen by heaven as Camelot's next king. A ruler greater even than King Uther!"
"Yesterday, a holy sword embedded in a massive stone appeared outside the city. Many have tried to draw it, but all have failed."
"Today is the second day. More and more people know of it knights from all over are gathering, hoping to claim the throne of Britain!"
Morgan's eyebrows shot up.
"Who—who said pulling a sword makes you king?!"