"Little Mo? What are you sneaking around for?"
The moment he saw that ahoge identical to Artoria's, Alvin immediately recognized the girl outside the window.
At the same time, Mordred leapt in through the window in a single bound.
Perhaps for ease of movement, Mordred wasn't wearing her usual heavy armor today, instead, she was dressed like a fiery modern-day teenage girl.
Tight shorts hugged her perky hips, a simple yet elegant T-shirt accentuated her shapely chest, and her long, round, snow-white legs ended in a pair of Martin boots.
Her golden half-length hair was tied high with a headband, the tips swaying with her steps.
In the original Britain, such an outfit would have been entirely impossible.
But as more and more transmigrators from the modern world appeared in Britain, some modern habits such as food, fashion, and many more, inevitably began to influence the local people.
According to current intel, if the transmigrator was one who "brought their body" through, they could bring along any items they carried—everything on them would be transferred to Britain too.
For those who transmigrated via soul, however, they had to place items within their body, like in their mouth, and so on…
Though not very convenient, Alvin had never doubted human ingenuity.
If they were determined, they'd always find a way to bring things from the modern world.
Of course, Alvin wasn't focused on any of that right now, what mattered was this girl who had stealthily entered the bedchamber.
Why would Little Mo come here…?
Sensing the boy's confused gaze, Mordred hesitated slightly, then glanced again at Alvin.
In the end, she spoke almost in resignation: "I saw Morgan went to the mage workshop just now, so I thought I'd come see how you were doing."
For this rebellious knight, those words already counted as a considerable display of goodwill.
And it was no surprise Mordred would act so awkwardly.
This rebellious knight carried both the "Red Dragon" and "White Dragon" bloodlines, and she too was connected to Morgan.
Yet in the past, neither Morgan nor King Arthur had shown her much warmth.
It was actually this recently-met, makeshift father Alvin who treated her with more concern than anyone ever had.
Combined with her existing interest in Alvin's affairs… even knowing that Morgan didn't want anyone getting close to Alvin, Mordred still secretly snuck into the bedchamber.
"I'm fine. But aren't you afraid Morgan will find out?" Alvin asked.
Mordred was startled, then responded nonchalantly, "What is there to be afraid of—"
Alvin instinctively looked behind Mordred and said in surprise, "Morgan?"
Whoosh!
In an instant, the girl darted behind Alvin like a cat.
After a moment, sensing the silent atmosphere in the room, she cautiously poked her head out and secretly checked the empty space. Only then did she let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Then, when she looked at the boy again, her gaze was suddenly filled with irritation.
"Sorry, I just suddenly wanted to test if you were telling the truth."
Alvin grinned and, seeing Mordred's annoyed expression, couldn't help but reach out and gently ruffle her soft golden hair.
Just like soothing a puffed-up cat, Mordred initially looked displeased, but as she felt the warmth of the boy's hand, her expression gradually relaxed, and she even closed her eyes slightly in enjoyment.
But soon, as if realizing something, she suddenly snapped out of it and swatted Alvin's hand away, covering her head. "Don't touch me so casually!"
Alvin paused for a moment, looked at his hand hovering in mid-air, then at Mordred's unhappy expression, and finally retracted his hand helplessly.
"Sorry… I thought, given our relationship, it would be okay. I'll be more careful next time."
Though Alvin's tone wasn't particularly downcast, upon hearing those words, Mordred suddenly panicked a little.
"That's not what I meant, I just…"
As she continued, her voice grew quieter and quieter.
In the past, Mordred had been rejected too many times by Morgan Le Fay and Artoria.
She should have grown up like a normal girl, but the hatred between the two sisters had destined Mordred to become the sacrificial pawn caught between them.
She didn't dare to love, nor did she want anyone to get close to her.
Like a hedgehog, she used her spines to reject anyone who tried to care for her… That was Mordred.
…But Alvin seemed different from those two.
At the very least, from the moment she met him until now, she had never once seen him show the slightest disgust or rejection towards her.
Even so, she still needed time, little by little, to accept Alvin.
"I understand what you mean, Little Mo."
Just as Mordred's thoughts were in disarray, a hand suddenly rested on her cheek.
Mordred instinctively looked up, only to be met with the boy's face, wearing a gentle smile, his eyes filled with sincerity.
"You can come find me anytime you want… though, preferably when Morgan's not around."
Hearing his words, Mordred froze for a moment and hesitantly asked, "You don't find me annoying?"
"Annoying?" Alvin asked, feeling a bit puzzled.
"It's just… Morgan always used to tell me not to interrupt her experiments, and the King also thought my presence interfered with her political duties…" Mordred mumbled instinctively.
"I don't know about anyone else, but I don't find you annoying… and at your age, isn't being lively pretty normal?" Alvin replied with a smile.
For a brief moment, Mordred seemed stunned.
Then, as if testing something, she stepped forward toward Alvin.
She stared into Alvin's eyes, and at the same time, her hands slowly reached toward his neck.
She moved very carefully—if Alvin showed even a hint of rejection, Mordred would immediately pull back.
But Alvin calmly met her gaze the entire time, watching as the girl gently embraced him.
At that moment, the rebellious knight slowly closed her eyes, as if savoring a warmth she'd never dared imagine before.
Looks like Little Mo is really starved for affection… Alvin thought silently as he watched, then reached out and wrapped the girl in a hug.
It lasted for who knows how long before Mordred finally, reluctantly, let go of Alvin.
A blush spread across her cheeks, and she looked a bit shy.
"I… I'll head back for today. I'll find time to visit again."
After saying such words, without waiting for Alvin to even say a word, Mordred fled out the window, as if running away.
She had arrived quietly and left like a whirlwind… classic Little Mo, really.
Still, who would've thought that the usually brash and outspoken girl could look so shy…? Remembering the moment just now, Alvin couldn't help but chuckle softly and soon retracted his gaze.
After finishing the black tea on the table, he too left the bedchamber, heading straight toward Morgan le Fay's mage workshop.
Last time, it was the mages who crossed over in a group. But after this return, some among the transmigrators faction had already resolved to resist to the death.
Though he wasn't too worried about Morgan's side, Alvin still hoped to avoid unnecessary bloodshed if possible.
For that… the cooperation between both sides had to be accelerated.
…
After leaving the room, Alvin crossed the garden and passed through several courtyards before arriving at a secluded palace.
Around the palace, silver knights were patrolling—special dolls created by Morgan.
But unlike last time, these silver knights showed no aggression upon sensing Alvin's presence.
Alvin walked into the palace and soon found himself deep within the mage workshop, where he saw the cool and seductive enchantress.
She wore a deep blue ceremonial gown adorned with intricate patterns, her long platinum hair cascading like a waterfall, setting off a face that was cold, proud, and stunningly beautiful.
With her back turned to Alvin, Morgan seemed unaware of his presence, calmly mixing a potion at the table.
"What brings you here to see me specifically?"
When outside, Morgan usually maintained this icy queen-like demeanor.
Alvin was long used to it and simply smiled, saying, "Had nothing to do, so I came out to clear my head. Happened to pass by, so I thought I'd drop in."
"…Am I disturbing you?"
Morgan lightly shook her head. "If you were, I'd tell you directly."
"The transmigrators returned to the modern world once, didn't they?"
Before Alvin could respond, Morgan suddenly asked.
Alvin was briefly stunned and instinctively replied, "How did you know?"
"Half an hour ago, news came from outside the royal city, there have been various degrees of civilian unrest in the territories of Grand Dukes Viroquan, Marco, and another noble."
Morgan's tone remained gentle, but her words carried no warmth: "The transmigrators used to be a disorganized mess.
No matter how you look at it, these riots were clearly premeditated… I imagine they must've discussed things during their return to the modern world, right?"
"But a bunch of weak little insects, no matter how much they struggle, they won't make even the tiniest splash..."
"The transmigrators aren't all weaklings either... and besides, there's no need for Britain to wipe them all out in one sweep, is there?" Alvin said.
At these words, Morgan raised a delicate brow slightly, turning her head to glance curiously at the boy behind her.
"Looks like you're here to plead for them?"
Alvin shook his head. "Strictly speaking, not pleading, more like seeking mutually beneficial cooperation."
"This time, the transmigrators who descended upon Britain aren't just from the Clock Tower. There are factions from different eras as well... cooperating with them wouldn't do Britain any harm."
"Lily thought the same before."
Lily...
At the mention of that name, the gentle smile on Morgan's face gradually turned cold.
Those shadowy, beautiful eyes stared coldly at him.
"So you're still thinking about my sister after all..."
Morgan's tone carried a trace of frost. "Alvin... you want Britain to work with the transmigrators because someone you know is among them, right?"
Alvin was stunned for a moment, but under Morgan's gaze, he still nodded slightly. "Yes... but that's not the only reason—I also truly believe—"
"The person you know among the transmigrators... is it a woman?" Morgan pressed.
Looking at the silent boy, Morgan said blandly, "I knew it.
You probably started thinking about how to please her the moment you met that woman.
Maybe even going so far as to use 'cooperation' to threaten or tempt her, and get her to try out all your little fantasies with you in bed..."
"Don't just go around slandering people's character." Alvin sighed helplessly.
Aoko Aozaki, after all, was a Grand Magus of the Clock Tower, prestigious in the modern world.
No matter what, he wasn't about to threaten her, let alone do anything inappropriate.
"No need to explain so much. I know your personality all too well, Alvin," Morgan said indifferently.
"So—"
Before Alvin could speak, she continued in a low, ghostly tone: "Don't go fantasizing about me and Lily lying in bed with you. And stop comparing whose lips are softer, mine or hers—in your head."
"And also... don't even think about which one of us feels better to the touch, right now or ever."
Alvin: "..."
...What the hell.
With descriptions that vivid, anyone with normal orientation would overthink it, okay?!
After a long, silent pause, Alvin nearly coughed up a mouthful of blood.
He had long known Morgan's personality could be a little... "vile," but experiencing it firsthand still made it hard to keep composure.
However, Morgan didn't stop there.
What followed was even worse—out of her mouth came phrases like "sister combo" and "mother-daughter XX," brief yet saturated with a kind of conceptual violence.
This wasn't even just slander anymore.
She had to have imagined such things herself to describe them so explicitly!
As Alvin's sanity frayed, one huge question echoed through his mind:
Just what exactly goes on inside Morgan le Fay's head all day?!
Thank the stars Lily wasn't here right now. If she heard any of this, she'd probably explode on the spot...
Alvin silently felt thankful.
Then, trying to calm himself, he spoke earnestly: "Morgan—"
"I accept."
"...What?"
Still not fully processing the meaning of her words, he instinctively looked up, stunned.
"I said, I accept your proposal."
Morgan's voice was soft and melodious. "I may not care much about the future of the transmigrators or Britain, but if this is your wish... I'll respond to it."
"But I have one condition."
"What is it?" Alvin asked instinctively.
Morgan lifted her eyes and gazed into the boy's eyes, her voice gentle: "I want to host a banquet. At that time, I want to invite the top figures from both the traverser faction and Britain's side."
Seeing Alvin's surprised expression, Morgan le Fay tilted her head slightly. "What's wrong? Don't think it's a good idea?"
"This is also a way to promote mutual understanding, isn't it?"
Alvin snapped out of it and shook his head. "It's nothing... it's just a bit sudden."
He had absolutely not expected Morgan le Fay to agree to the cooperation so easily, to the point that all the lines he had prepared in advance were forcefully swallowed back down.
Just as Morgan had said, having both sides' high-ranking leaders meet face to face really was a viable way to ease tensions.
It was just that...
Gathering all the top leaders from both factions in one place... also sounded like a perfect setup for wiping them all out in one fell swoop, didn't it?
.
.
.