Fate/Ultimate Antagonist

[24] I Want to Devour You, Alvin

[You narrate all the various experiences you've had throughout your journey to Morgan, sparing no details.]

[Much of your journey she had actually observed, and if there were genuine dangers, the witch had long tightened her nerves, ready to intervene at any moment.]

[However, during the days when you finally met Artoria, she happened to escape due to shyness.]

[After listening to your account of Artoria's recent situation, Morgan's face revealed an expression that seemed expected, yet carried a hint of pity.]

... There was no love.

Simply nurtured as a pure tool.

Hah... Whether it was for the elder sister or the younger sister, Uther truly treated them equally...

This familiar situation only intensified the witch's indignation towards the so-called father.

Apart from that, there was the almost pitiful sorrow for Artoria.

...Exactly.

Her sister, born without knowledge, created as a vessel for the ideal king, never had the chance to choose. What was there for her to hate? The girl named Artoria was like a puppet, suspended by borrowed ideals.

If she could pull her into her own camp, it would indeed be a perfect revenge against Uther. However, even so...

Morgan also had her own uncompromising principles.

"I disagree."

In response to the silver-haired youth's proposal, the witch decisively refused.

The resounding rejection made Alvin pause for a moment. He knew how much Morgan hated Uther, to the point where wishing to devour his flesh and drink his blood was not an exaggeration. Why would she let go of such a perfect opportunity to strike at his heart?

"I don't oppose you contacting my sister, Alvin. Because of the attraction of dragon blood, you two will inevitably meet, and it's better sooner rather than later when she is still not fully in her element."

Staring at her disciple.

Morgan's complex gaze seemed to contain a myriad of emotions.

"The reason for my refusal is simple..."

Saying so, the witch lifted her fair hand.

Then.

She slowly and gently stroked the youth's face.

The thin and deep blue lips slightly pursed. Through the contact with the skin, Alvin could feel her delicate fingertips trembling slightly.

But soon.

This inexplicable tension subsided with her breath.

The witch looked directly at her dream, at her heart, without any hesitation.

In such moments, she would never retreat again.

However, the first time expressing it so unreservedly... it was somewhat embarrassing.

The sky was clear, not a cloud in sight.

The pleasant, warm autumn sunlight filtered through the window grates, caressing the shoulders. The radiant light illuminated the mountains and rivers with a dawn glow, and the blue and red autumn leaves reflected in Morgan's pale and translucent skin, spreading to her smooth neck.

This autumn atmosphere, like the surging emotions, had matured into the sweet fruit that tempted people in this maple-colored autumn day.

At some point.