A Villainess pulled out the Sword instead of the Hero.

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There were 32 Imperials alone.

 

Thirty-two attempts to produce the oracle’s master in Avalon.

 

The oracle that accompanied Guinevere’s birth was a direct prophecy that a wielder of the sword would be born in this generation.

 

But none of the royals ever managed to pull the sword.

 

This once and for all ruled out the possibility of Avalon’s royalty taking Britain gently into its fold through marriage to Guinevere.

 

With a new wielder of the sword, war between Britain and Avalon was a certainty.

 

But some were skeptical.

 

‘It will probably end up in the oracle’s favor anyway, and Avalon’s defeat is a foregone conclusion.’

 

‘The decline of power in the House of the Lake Fairy is a sign that the gods have abandoned Avalon.’

 

Every creature with ears and a mouth, including the nobility of Avalon, said the same thing.

 

There were even tales of the rising aristocracy gathering together to sweep up money and jewels in secret.

 

At any moment, they would abandon Avalon.

 

It was the sort of world where anyone who advocated a peaceful handover of sovereignty to 

 

Britain would be forced to stick its neck out.

 

This was the state of Avalon, a place where there was no pride in being a great nation.

 

It was said that only a descendant of the House of Fay could heal Excalibur’s wounds.

 

So in Avalon, they used to say that even if the legendary sword fell into the hands of Britain, as long as the power of the Fay remained, they were not afraid.

 

Those days are long gone.

 

That confidence has long since given way to the idea that the fairies who guard the lake are coming to an end when it’s time for the sword to be drawn.

 

However, the time has come for the succession ceremony.

 

As expected, the tide was turning against the Avalon nobility.

 “There’s a rumor going around these days.” 

Captain Gawain Greene, one of Kellive’s two oldest friends and closest confidants, stood stiffly as he entered the chamber, one hand shoved in his pocket.

 

Known to be his strongest when the sun was shining, he ruffled his hair, which was roughly combed brown.

 “They say the healing powers have returned to the Fay family.” 

At this, a man with black hair and golden eyes, who could easily be described as breathtaking, glanced up.

 “Word has already reached the capital. You’re late, Gawain.” 

The man didn’t bother to report.

 

Even if he did, the sore mouth was already annoying.

 

Gawain grasped the back of his neck with his free hand and squeezed lightly.

 “Then why did you call me?” 

The sound of muscles stretching echoed through the office.

 “Well, I hope you don’t mean you’re going to the Ducal House of Fay.” 

There was a hint of annoyance in his voice.

 

The House of Faye was something of a lost cause.

 

A former close confidant of the late King Argan, he was a loudmouth, but not so much anymore.

A nobleman may fall, but three generations live on.

 

He held on to his waning power for a long time.

 

‘If only his healing powers were still intact, we wouldn’t have to listen to the chatter as the newly crowned king ascended the throne.’

 

The day before the coronation, which would have been a festival in any other time.

 

Kellive himself was impeccable.

 

His lineage was excellent, to say the least, and the story of how he and five knights slayed a demon that had come down from the mountains in the northwest was well known.

 

And one of those five knights was Gawain Greene. He said.

 

‘If it hadn’t been for the night, I wouldn’t have let my lord take up his sword.’

 

Every time I heard that anecdote, it bothered me.

 

I cringed at my arrogance at having made such an unnecessary mistake.

 

His expression was quickly dispelled by the sound of a heavy oak chair being dragged across the room.

 

Rising from his seat, Kellive wore his usual friendly smile.

 

Sunlight streamed in through the massive arched windows behind his desk.

 

His back to the light cast fine shadows across his face.

 

Touching the hem of his robe, Kellive asked,

“Why do you think not?” 

Gawain, who had been listening, asked suspiciously,

“You’re going? Just because of a rumor?” 

Gawain felt like he was being forced to chase rumors at a critical time.

 “It would be a great thing for us to have the power back.” 

Kellive twiddled the buttons on his shirt sleeve with his fingers.

 

His low, almost dissonant voice was oddly relaxed for the situation.

 “That’s good, because it means we don’t have to work so hard.” 

Gawain snorted in amusement,

“If anyone overhears, they’ll know you were planning on using force to suppress the nobles.” 

The joking remark went unanswered. Anxious, Gawain glanced over, studying Kellive’s expression.

 

Feeling his gaze, the corners of his lips curled into a gentle smile.

 “Why?” “…You were thinking of doing that… weren’t you?” “If necessary.” 

Kellive’s golden eyes flashed for a moment.

 

There was a fierce look in them, the gleam of a beast on the verge of a kill.

 

He meant it. Gawain was already sick to death of the thought of him walking around with his sword drawn as a threat.

 

Leaving him fuming, Kellive pulled on his robes.

 “I heard such good news, it’s only polite to go in person.”

(Kellive)

 “I bought some for Gareth, but he says he’s not sure if the stuff has power, or if it’s just a good tea.” “I’m not arguing about whether the Fay has powers or not.” 

The modestly dressed man, soon to be the ruler of Avalon, tilted his head and spoke more eloquently.

 “What matters, Gawain, is that enough people believe in it to buy tea for the little siblings you love so dearly.” 

Gawain’s shoulders lifted briefly at the outrageous behavior.

 

He waved his hands in the air with a stiffness that belied his knightly origins.

 “No, not because I believe in anything… It’s good enough that everyone else is dying to get it, out of curiosity, not because I believe it or anything!” 

Whatever the reason, it was an opportunity for Kellive.

 

After the oracle, Avalon was on a constant downward spiral.

 

The oracle about Guinevere must have played a part in that, but unfortunately or perhaps fortunately, the sword’s master remains unknown to this day.

 

The lost power of the Fay family had been a nail in Avalon’s coffin.

 

All at once, the power returned.

 

It’s not just healing powers, however, as it has been processed into tea and distributed throughout the kingdom.

 

It was a ray of hope in the otherwise bleak world of Avalon.

 

Likewise, it didn’t matter if it wasn’t true.

 

All Kellive needed was the recognition that power still resided in Avalon.

 

The kingdom, a toothless tiger, would rise once more, to punish those who forgot their noble duty.

 

Turning to face Gawain, he spoke with kindness and firmness.

 “I am going to the Duke of Fay’s residence.” 

The smile faded from his eyes before he finished, revealing a sharp gaze. The frosty air quickly faded behind Kellive’s smile.

 

Gawain clicked his tongue and nodded dryly.

 ⚔︎

 Knock, knock, knock— 

Under the Duke of Fay’s watchful eye, a servant knocked urgently on Morgana’s door.

 

There was silence on the other side of the door, but not the answer he wanted.

 “Ahem. Morgana, Morgana!” 

He called her name impatiently, but the result was the same.

 

Impatient, Duke Fay threw open the door. 

 

He was taken aback by the plain, unadorned visit and the unfamiliar surroundings.

 

He clicked his tongue in disbelief,

‘I gave her a new room to live in so she could at least appear decently.’

Morgana was nowhere to be seen.

 

Morgana’s face was all over the place whenever she wanted to be seen, but when she was needed, it was hard to even see her nose.

 “Where’s Morgana?”

he asked as he stumbled out of her room.

 “Morgana.” “That, it’s…” “No, never mind. Take me directly to her.” 

It was an emergency.

 

A letter from Kellive informing the Duke that he would be visiting.

 

The Crown Prince, the one who’s been keeping his distance from me.

 

And on the brink of succession.

 

‘He must have heard rumors of the power!’

 

As Morgana began selling tea leaves, stories emerged about the return of the healing powers to the almighty Fay.

 

In a sense, it was true. It was just that Morgana was an illegitimate child.

 

This coincided with Princess Guinevere’s turbulent time, and the Duke of Fay’s authority was slipping.

 

If word of her abilities were to get out at such a time, she might be able to restore the family’s authority, and Avalon, to its former glory.

 

‘The problem is how to reveal that power…’

 

It was Morgana who said,

‘I don’t need to be recognized by selling tea leaves.’

 

It only needs to look like it,

‘If they found out I was an illegitimate child, they’d say I wasn’t pure blood and couldn’t be trusted.’

 

Then I could tell them that the healing power came from one of my other daughters.