8 [8] You Can't Be This Cute

[Your request to go out has finally received Vortigern's approval.]

[For safety considerations, you quickly began learning various self-defense under Morgan's guidance.]

[Theoretical knowledge and practical skills complement each other, and as shadow attribute magus of the same type, Morgan's adept use of shadow magecraft and exquisite skills have truly opened your eyes.]

[Due to the affinity of magecraft for darkness, you often choose to learn magecraft in the garden under the night sky. Morgan's careful guidance leaves no reservation for you.]

"Where there is light, there is also shadow. Where there is brightness, there is the birth of darkness."

"In the mysticism of magecraft, 'shadow' usually symbolizes adversity, secrecy, and the concept of sleep."

"Therefore, Alvin, our attributes are naturally suited for stealth, but the specific application depends on each person's understanding."

"Next, carefully remember each step of my spellcasting: Deeper than the night, more elusive than a light feather, radiance and flames are the dark side that accompanies you, silence and sleep are your eternal words, follow my incantation and let the gathered material flow."

"Shadow Curtain."

Bright blue lips slightly parted, uttering a flawless chant.

The ominous witch, shrouded in a black veil, strolled gracefully in the tranquil courtyard. The magic energy she released danced like butterflies weaving through a flower bed, and the shadows around her silently flowed and converged. The pristine moon in the high sky seemed dimmer compared to her chanting.

The silver-haired youth lifted his gaze, observing the British witch beneath this nocturnal curtain, enveloped in mystery.

Her shifting veil and hair seemed to intertwine night and snow.

Her bright blue eyes carried a subtle, almost imperceptible, smile.

Every inch of her voluptuous figure displayed exquisite curves, and the faintly moist skin beneath the deep black dress was like the moonlight adorning the night sky.

A cloudless night with sparkling stars, the most marvelous mystery and darkness converged within her grace and gaze.

Interwoven into a bewitching witch's visage, a beauty not seen in the bright daylight.

Unable to chase after the flames, she concealed herself in the shadows.

So, she always hid her face.

Only in Alvin's presence did Morgan Le Fay, the witch, remove her veil, revealing a beauty akin to radiant moonlight.

She blossomed within the shadows, much like a flower in the twilight.

Alvin had never seen a witch teach magecraft so alluringly.

Sensing Alvin's unwavering gaze, Morgan blushed beneath her sheer veil.

But now, teaching magecraft was a matter of life and death, and she couldn't afford to maintain distance from her disciple.

"Focus on feeling the flow of my magic, Alvin."

Under the scrutiny of the night and the moon, the witch held the young man's hand.

As their inspiration communicated and linked, the flow of magic throughout Morgan's body was displayed in front of Alvin without reservation.

The ether sang joyfully, shadows gathered, and the witch's soft incantation seemed like a melancholic melody.

However, the so-called magic lesson had lost its significance to the young man.

Just like her imposing aura.

The witch's hand was as cold as he had imagined.

So, Alvin gently held her palm.

"Lady Morgan, your hand is quite cold."

"!"

Alvin's subtle gesture made Morgan's body tremble as if touched by an electric current.

A faint panic emerged in her bright blue pupils, accompanied by a blush that fluttered like intoxication.

"Alvin, you...!"

"Look at me."

The youth's resounding voice caught Morgan off guard.

She looked up, gazing at the disciple's face in front of her.

So close...

The silver-haired youth's delicate face was right before her, and his eyelashes, like light feathers, seemed almost tangible.

He smiled, and his ash-gray eyes seemed to shine brightly under the moonlight.

Clearly the cool moonlight, yet it burned like the sun.

The previously cold hand now emitted a warm glow involuntarily.

The skin-to-skin contact conveyed mutual feelings and warmth.

Thus, Morgan realized...

Alvin's hand felt so warm...

She didn't want to let go.

She didn't want to let go...

She didn't want to let go for the rest of her life...

A surge of thoughts flooded her mind.

Facing each other, their eyes locked.

Morgan finally, somewhat dazedly, realized, she had never been so close to Alvin.

Just like her appearance.

A veil of distance also shrouded the witch's heart.

In many days past.

She would hide in the shadows, secretly observing her disciple's profile when he was focused.

This despicable act, akin to spying, brought intense guilt to Morgan, yet she couldn't stop it.

Being hurt so much, maintaining distant relationships became a subconscious self-protection mechanism.

Out of fear that Alvin would detest her, secretly observing from a distance brought Morgan a strangely comforting sense of security.

But...

Why not just look openly?

This thought echoed in the witch's mind.

Yes, Morgan realized only at this moment, she had never cared so much about someone.

Alvin Pendragon.

A masterpiece she meticulously crafted.

He filled her chest, occupied her heart.

Every concern, every thought, day and night, all revolved around him.

...Even though he was her creation.

So, why not just openly gaze at him?

Almost face to face.

Those eyes of iron-gray, so captivating, were right in front of her.

"Beautiful things always attract attention."

"So, I want to gaze at you more clearly."

The roses in the courtyard swayed, and overlapping shadows flowed around them.

Alvin raised his left hand, as if wanting to gently brush away Morgan's veil.

Faced with the young man's presumptuous act, the witch's mind went blank.

Instinctively, she wanted to stop him.

However, her arm seemed to be filled with heavy mercury, making it difficult to lift.

Or perhaps, was she actually anticipating his actions?

As the black veil covering her face was gently lifted.

The witch's exquisitely unparalleled face was revealed without any concealment for the first time before the young man.

Although their appearances were similar.

Yet, the unique charm was entirely different from Artoria's determination.

Her brows and eyes were enchanting, like the blooming orchids in a secluded valley, with a hint of shyness in her restraint.

The intoxicating blush between the orchids made the beautiful figure under the moonlight seem like a dream.

Summer's bright blue waves, eyes of such a color. Mature, vigorous, gentle, yet also like a serpent, forbidden, tempting, and deadly.

The slightly raised fair neck, the elegant curve extending to the collarbone, then gently flowing to the full mountains.

Those lines, those contours.

Noble and untouchable.

Like a black swan...

Facing such divine beauty.

A sincere admiration escaped from Alvin's heart.

"You're truly beautiful..."

Accompanied by this almost dreamy praise.

The hand the young man extended continued to move forward, about to touch the witch's face.

The fingertips with warmth.

As if wanting to pull her from the distant clouds, dragging her down to the mundane and decadent world.

Then, at the moment when his hand touched the witch's skin.

Shadows flooded the space between his fingers.

A gentle breeze stirred, Morgan's figure collapsed like a flowing water, turning into a pitch-black and thin shadow, melting into the ground, disappearing.

Only a faint lingering fragrance remained on the fingertips, and the witch's deliberately calm and trembling voice lingered in the courtyard, like the rose petals swaying in the wind.

"Y-You train well, Alvin...! I-I suddenly feel tired and want to rest first..."

The witch's trembling voice gradually extinguished like a fading firework.

The young man slightly bowed, smiling towards the moonlit courtyard.

"Good night, Lady Morgan."

His sincere wishes received no response.

As usual, the witch who couldn't withstand teasing seemed to have fled awkwardly.

The night breeze was cool, bathing in the falling rose petals.

The silver-haired youth extended his hand, allowing a petal to fall into his palm. The shadow magic surging from within him instantly formed a vivid rose in his fingers.

A thorny black rose.

Just like the shy witch who shunned closeness, it resisted being approached but exuded a captivating fragrance.

"Unfortunately, haven't seen enough yet."

Alvin sighed faintly.

It was unclear whether he referred to magic or the witch.

The bouquet of roses formed by the convergence of shadows scattered in his palm. Alvin shook his head gently and began to focus on tonight's training, pretending... pretending not to notice those wandering gazes lurking in the shadows.

Yes...

The young man might not have had enough of the witch, but it didn't prevent the witch from appreciating the young man.

Since the age of five.

The gradually developing keen senses of the ultimate life form made Alvin aware of Morgan's elusive scrutiny.

Both being unparalleled geniuses magus from the age of gods, the witch's hidden magecraft was not something the young him could easily penetrate.

Unfortunately, there was no other reason, this cousin spent too much time peeping every day!

Almost several hours of high-intensity peeping every day...

Even a witch couldn't always maintain perfect concealment of her magecraft.

If Alvin didn't notice, the value of the ultimate life form would become a joke.

But, despite having noticed this.

Alvin tactfully did not expose it.

He naturally understood that with Morgan's proud personality, if she were exposed, she would probably be embarrassed enough to hide in Gaia's mantle.

And Alvin always knew, that whenever he started changing before taking a bath, the peeping from the shadows would linger for a while on his symmetrical upper body, then shyly move away.

If he wasn't peeped at one day, he would feel a bit uncomfortable.

However, what made Alvin particularly curious was...

What was Morgan doing when peeping?

Very concerned.

...

In the shadows swaying with the wind.

The witch, maintaining her hidden state, blushed, gazing at the young man's clear face.

Slightly heavy breaths maintained a rhythmic pace, and the fair and full curves rose and fell incessantly.

"Alvin...

"Alvin...

"Alvin...!"

Accompanied by the faint murmurs as if whispering.

A tingling sensation like convulsions and electric shocks surged up the witch's nerves along the spine.

"!"

His breast swayed, and the tidal waves surged.

Forty-two years finally broken, a white dragon encountered, a lifetime misled.

Feeling the infinite aftertaste as the resonance tide receded.

A vague and ambiguous hot mist sighed out of Morgan's bright blue lips.

She raised the hand that had been tightly held by Alvin before, and then... gently, gently pressed it against her own cheek.

...It seemed to still retain his warmth.

Dewdrops slid down the moist and sticky fingertips, and a few transparent threads reflected the crystal-clear moonlight in the night.

As well as the intoxicating blush on the witch's face, like rose petals moistened by dew, charming and enchanting.

"My body... feels so strange...

"I...I really want to get closer to you...

"If you find out, you must hate me, right? Hate this dark and despicable witch..."

"But I can't leave you anymore..."

"Alvin..."

Unable to resist, she reached out to touch his face.

But the fingertips quickly and timidly retreated, not daring to get any closer.

Morgan finally fled from here like escaping.

Just in her shyness, she did not notice that a few drops of wet and sticky water stains from the treetop were inadvertently shaken off.

Patter.

...While Alvin, who was casting magecraft under the moonlight, glanced up at the cloudless night sky.

"Did it rain?"

Between the swaying shadows of the canopy.

Only the bright moon was immaculate, and the stars were sparkling.

"???"