35 Obsession and Worry
"Damn him, that bloody bastard..."
In the desolate and dilapidated castle, a beautiful woman lay on the ground, grinding her teeth and cursing the Pendragon's kin.
This time it wasn't her father, sister, or children, but her newly met nephew.
Though it was their first encounter, the animosity Morgan harbored towards him had already reached a level comparable to that of others.
Of course, aside from 'hatred', Morgan's 'other feelings' toward him were equally numerous and complex.
"I... I won't give up."
Dragging her disheveled body, Morgan struggled to make her way to her magic workshop. The antidote to the poison on the dagger awaited her there.
"I will definitely seek revenge on that guy."
On her journey to the magic workshop, Morgan stumbled several times due to pain, fatigue, and a mix of pleasure. She even ended up with bruises and a swollen face after falling down the next set of stairs. But she persisted and finally arrived.
She dared not perform any spell since her physical condition was too terrible at the moment, making it nearly impossible to concentrate.
With such a disheveled body, forcing herself to use spells would undoubtedly lead to a tragic outcome.
If it came to that, when they met next time, Artorius would not see his revenge-driven aunt, but rather a fallen figure, nothing more than a discarded puppet.
"I won't let it end like that!"
After stumbling and staggering, Morgan reached her magic workshop. Along the way, she fell once again, pushing her body to its limits. Gasping for breath, she fought off dizziness and overwhelming desires, making her way to the cabinet where the antidotes were stored, rummaging through the bottles and jars.
Her once delicate fingers, adept at handling any materials, now trembled uncontrollably, and everything she saw seemed to spin before her eyes.
"I will come back for revenge."
Finally, after carelessly knocking over numerous precious or dangerous potions, her trembling hand managed to grasp the bottle filled with the antidote. Morgan eagerly opened it and poured it into her mouth, emitting a satisfied "Ahhh" sound. Immediately after came an intense surge of 'sensation'.
Her body began to recover. However, at the same time, the flames of passion surged higher.
How should she put it? She had brought it upon herself.
When concocting the poison, in addition to its paralyzing and weakening effects, Morgan had added a debuff, which made the victim get enchanted and horny.
Originally, Morgan had considered various scenarios, envisioning her dear sister being captivated, her body weak and burning with a mix of hatred and anticipation, and looking at her with those eyes.
But of course, once she decided to use it on Artorius, the character's image changed. Thinking about Artorius, her dear sister's good child, kneeling before her like a puppy, panting and licking her silk-clad legs, begging for her favor...
No, if she entertained such thoughts further, she would lose herself.
After a "hehehe~" laughter, Morgan fell into a state of self-disgust, feeling utterly embarrassed by her recent actions.
But once again...
She had brought it upon herself.
Even though she was desperately trying to endure, the more she resisted, the stronger the desire became.
Although Morgan, as the creator of the poison, should have been well aware of its nature and effects, she subconsciously followed the predetermined path.
She had set the trap for herself.
"Artorius..."
"Artorius..."
"Artorius—ahhh!"
The voice of the witch became hoarse as she called out her enemy's name. Gradually, bit by bit, her calls transformed into whispers. Exhausted and dehydrated, she collapsed, succumbing to the drowsiness that enveloped her.
===
At the same time.
*TAP* *TAP* *TAP* *TAP*
Mordred spun in circles, feeling increasingly anxious.
"Really..."
As one of Morgan's children, Mordred was no less cautious and distrustful of Morgan than any of her siblings.
"Will my brother be okay?"
Just moments ago, she was having dinner with her dear big brother, enjoying a candlelit meal together. After dinner, her brother would tell her stories, and then... well, you know.
Today was supposed to be a wonderful day for Mordred.
However, this beautiful day crumbled with Morgan's appearance.
Her dear brother left with Morgan.
Although Mordred had confidence in Artorius, well, it's Morgan we're talking about here. The most terrifying and wicked schemer, the most malicious woman in the world.
And her big brother, Artorius. He was so gentle, so pure, so kind. How could he possibly be a match for Morgan?
Would he face misfortune? Would he be targeted? After all, Morgan's fondness for King Arthur was so low to the point of hatred. Artorius as King Arthur's son surely would be hated by her too, right?
So, what would she do to her own brother?
Imprison him? Interrogate him? Beat him? Coerce him?
Just the thought of it made Mordred feel like she was about to explode. She now deeply regretted her own powerlessness.
Artorius and Morgan had been transported to who-knows-where through magecraft.
She had encountered that kind of magecraft before. Her brother Artorius had even taught her, but she was too lazy and more interested in swordsmanship and spearmanship. So, her studies were half-hearted at best.
Her brother had criticized her for it. The result? Mordred had learned to act cute and coquettish on her own to avoid her brother's scolding.
"Gahhh... if only I had studied magecraft properly before all this happened."
With that, at least when she felt the urge to rush in and kill someone, she would know which direction to go. She could charge into a castle where Morgan was likely hiding and cause a commotion, rescuing her dear brother, instead of feeling helpless like she was now, just spinning in circles here.
As time passed, her frustration grew and accumulated, driving Mordred insane to the point of pulling her hair and rolling on the ground...
Fortunately, before she could embarrass herself any further, Artorius returned.
"Brother... Brother!"
Mordred rushed into Artorius's arms at lightning speed, examining him up and down while reaching out to check his body. "How are you? Are you hurt? Are you hurt?!"
"Don't worry, Little Mo, I'm fine."
Watching Mordred fussing over him, Artorius extended his hand affectionately, stroking the kid's head.
"It was just Morgan, after all. She can't hurt me."
