104 Chapter 103: Welcome to my fair Britain

(Morgan's POV)

I came into this world as the reincarnation of the Great Mother Fairy, bearing a singular purpose: 'Unite Britain and protect its mystery.' Throughout my upbringing, this mandate echoed persistently in my mind, a vexing burden. I felt detached from the destiny of ruling this seemingly doomed country.

Yes, doomed. The Britons, languishing in their indolence, adamantly resisted evolution alongside the rest of humanity. I initially harbored no inclination to be entwined with their fate.

Yet, a transformation stirred within me. If the goal was to rule this country, why should I heed the dictates of others? This imperative, ostensibly to unite Britain and safeguard its mysteries, evolved beyond mere inherited destiny; it became my personal ambition.

Navigating the challenges as a woman seeking to rule proved arduous. My solitary recourse lay in marrying an influential ruler and subtly manipulating them into wars that would unite Britain. Unfortunately, fate handed me an unappealing fate—a portly, unattractive figure with modest wealth. My father wed me to King Lot, ostensibly for his independent state and wealth, but I sensed an intent to isolate me.

Left with no alternative, I decided to produce an heir and exploit my offspring to conquer these isles. To my astonishment, King Lot, the ostensibly repugnant and perverse ruler, underwent a remarkable transformation into a formidable person. I recognized the disparity, yet indifference dominated my feelings.

"When you aspire to be the sole ruler of these isles, I will ensure your wish materializes. Just heed my counsel," he declared.

Initially skeptical, his resolute gaze and the undeniable force with which fate seemed to bow to his will convinced me. If any human could alter my destiny, it was him. As the reincarnation of Mother Fairy, pride would have typically deterred me from submitting to a mere mortal. However, this man proved to be the exception.

My decision proved astute.

King Lot not only imparted the fundamentals of human psychology, enabling me to raise a formidable army despite my gender, but also bestowed substantial wealth to fuel my military endeavors.

Certainly, I grasped the disdain at the outset, but each lesson he imparted revealed its worth. His teachings didn't advocate for benevolence or heroism listening to the masses, but instead emphasized the role of a ruler imperative for humanity's needs. I aspired to wield dictatorial power, and he provided the blueprint. Despite objections to some of my actions, he never cast me aside; rather, he mentored me as a trusted confidant.

How could I not fall under his spell?

His life commenced and culminated with me. Despite his wealth and might, he dedicated himself entirely to my cause. Even for one as callous as me, such unwavering devotion compelled an allegiance.

His touch, whether on my bosom or embracing me in his formidable arms, elicited a profound pleasure. In his embrace, I found not just ecstasy but also security and a sense of being blessed. I loved him beyond measure. It consumed me to the extent that envisioning my perfect life without him became inconceivable.

My existence felt whole. I unified Britain, assuming the mantle of its king. Alongside this, I cherished a devoted husband and a fierce yet endearing sister.

I believed my fate had taken a turn for the better. King Lot might have remained unaware, but I always knew my design had been destined for doom. I would have succumbed to becoming the malevolent witch known as Morgan Le Fay if not for my husband's tutelage and unwavering support, which molded me into Morgan Pendragon, a ruler unseen in Britain for centuries.

All seemed perfect, yet I became aware of a grave oversight: I had taken everything from my husband for granted, blind to the sacrifices entailed.

"Mi…milord…"

There lay my husband in bed, his once robust form now reduced to mere skin and bones. My love, my dear husband, was on his deathbed.

"No… This can't be happening…" I pleaded beside him, desperately calling out, "Milord, please tell me this is some absurd jest! I implore you!"

Uncontrollable tears streamed down my face, my heart pounding as if wishing to see my once mighty husband restored.

*Crack* *Crack*

Reality set in. King Lot had withered, shedding 90% of his weight. His consciousness clung to his emaciated frame, his bones audibly cracking with each passing minute. It wasn't illness or affliction; he was cursed.

Above all, he was in excruciating pain. I could sense his torment with a mere glance. He must have been enduring a hell within his body, yet, instead of agony, all I saw was a smile.

"Morgan… you are so beautiful. Please don't cry… these tears will mar my wife's beautiful face…" His trembling arm reached to wipe my tears, but they wouldn't cease. "If only… your wish… no, never mind."

At those words, realization struck.

"I want to be the sole ruler of these isles." It was my wish, one where I didn't want my husband to be a part of it.

As long as he remained my husband, society would hail him as the true leader, reducing me to a mere poster girl. For this condition to be fulfilled, King Lot had to leave me.

It was my mistake, a selfish desire for everything exclusively for myself. With this wish, I had unwittingly brought about the demise of this man.

"Milord, I—"

Before I could utter a word, my husband gently placed his finger on my lips.

"Morgan Pendragon, you are not allowed to blame yourself for anything," King Lot spoke with a smile. "This departure is my selfish choice. Your wish was also a product of my selfish deeds. I am simply an evil person."

"Please! Please don't say this…!" I pleaded, clinging to his arm.

"Stop crying already… Instead, let me fondle your bosom for one last time."

Blink* Blink*

His words caught me off guard. "Even at a time like this…"

Yes, even in such moments, I succumbed to his peculiar brand of humor, weak to his playful advances that never failed to lighten my mood. Without hesitation, I placed his hand on my chest. As always, a sense of solace washed over me. However, this time, there was a noticeable lack of strength.

"Awe, man. I can't even hold those creamy buns. Worse, I can't get a boner."

"Stop…" I couldn't help but smile at his words.

Yet, unexpectedly, he grabbed my breasts and pulled me closer.

"Listen up, you are not allowed to remarry or love another person. You are mine and mine alone. Even after death, you are mine. No one is allowed to touch your bosom and buttocks but me! Do you understand?"

For a moment, my heart skipped a beat. Even now, in such a somber moment, I couldn't help but blush. Instinctively, I nodded.

"Haha, just kidding. Live your life well…" He smiled and then shifted his attention to caressing my belly, where the life within stirred. "You know, Morgan, I have already lost two loved ones and my children; I cannot allow this to happen for the third time."

The revelation struck me with astonishment. I had always believed he was my first and only husband. However, it seemed there were depths to his past that I had never delved into. I was so absorbed in my own world that I hadn't considered who my husband truly was and the extent of his pain.

Another failure on my part.

"Morgan, I am truly sorry for leaving you in this manner, but this is who I am. I would protect my woman and her dreams regardless of the cost. I couldn't be prouder of raising a fine king like you, my love."

"Please, milord…! I can't...!" I pleaded once more, desperate for just one chance.

"You can, and you will. You'll be a splendid mother and a wonderful king, a legend among legends that the world will remember."

His words brought tears, yet this time, there was a hint of pride.

"Oh yeah," he then produced a peculiar-looking mask and handed it to me. "This is the Mask of Creation, an alien artifact from which you can gain infinite knowledge."

"This is…" I was stunned, sensing the latent power within the mask.

"It's my final gift, Morgan Pendragon. I acquired knowledge and honed my magecraft with it. However, I believe you are a genius, a superior mage to me. You are more suited for this." He smiled. "Use it carefully after our children's birth."

"But milord, I want you, not this! I want only…" I cried and pleaded, "I want my love by my side! Just this once…!"

"Haha… don't worry. We will meet again. Live a life that, when we reunite, I can say, 'You have done well, Morgan Pendragon. I am proud of you.'"

Those words infused me with hope. I didn't comprehend how our paths would cross again, but I believed in his promise.

He smiled, "Go and make your Britain great. When guests arrive, welcome them to your fair Britain."

"Yes, I will…" I smiled, bidding him farewell.

"Thank you, Morgan… Pendragon… for being… with… me…," he uttered before closing his eyes.

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(3rd Person's POV)

3 years later

A Roman delegate strode purposefully toward the castle, guided by Sir Kay, one of the leading knights. The delegate was awe-struck by the beauty of Camelot. Everywhere he looked, smiles and cheers greeted them, an otherworldly sight that left the delegates, hailing from the proud Roman Empire, captivated.

"Is this Camelot, Sir Kay?" inquired one of the delegate's companions, still enchanted by the city's splendor.

"Yes. Our great Queen, Morgan Pendragon, enlisted the help of her people to raise this city from ruins. Her dedication has enriched this country with strength and harmony," Sir Kay elucidated, extolling the greatness of their queen.

As they entered the grand castle, they couldn't contain their awe. The interior of the hall was an artistic marvel. Being a nation that appreciated art, the Roman delegates couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship.

Yet, all they had witnessed, revered, or dreaded paled in comparison to the person who sat before them.

A veiled woman occupied the throne. Though her face remained hidden, her presence alone stunned the delegates. They wished to glimpse behind the veil, yet fear seeped in with any inkling of ill intent. This woman was no ordinary figure; she was a warrior, a one-person army capable of crushing them like insects. Her mere aura felt suffocating, a force capable of snuffing out their existence.

She was Morgan Pendragon, the formidable queen of Britain and the sole ruler responsible for uniting the country.

However, her demeanor shifted suddenly, radiating a welcoming air as she smiled and said, "Welcome to my fair Britain."

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Sorry guys for not posting last two days. I was kinda busy and didnt save drafts. I will post more chapters this week,