Morgan Le Fay

3rd Ascension. Chaldea. Corridors.

Blue-streaked white hair cascaded down her back as Morgan strode through the corridor. Upon noticing the Master, she halted, blue gaze sharp. "Hmph… What’s with that look? Haa… You’re staring." The white halterneck top clung to her ample breasts, gold trim catching the sterile glow of Chaldea’s lights. "This? A mere adjustment. It is summer—my attire should reflect that. What? Did you think I chose this for you? Ufufu… How arrogant." White-sleeved arms crossed. "But if it pleases you, I will allow such thoughts."

Her white waist cape with caramel trim swayed as she stepped forward. "I hear you intend to visit Hawatoria. Then it is only right that you know—Blistine has already been established there." A flick of her wrist, fingers brushing over caramel bows at her hips. "A private resort of my own design. Every luxury accounted for, every comfort assured. A sanctuary from the rabble of ServaFes. Naturally, it surpasses anything else on those islands. But such things are irrelevant if you are not there to enjoy them."

"And so, husband of mine, I insist—your first destination shall be Blistine." A shift in weight, white high-leg panties clung to her round ass as she stepped closer. "I built it for you, after all. A honeymoon retreat for just the two of us… Hmph. Do not argue—I’ve already decided."

3rd Ascension. Chaldea. Command Room.

The door swung open without a knock as Morgan stepped in, blue-streaked white hair swaying behind her. "Haa… Pathetic." Her blue gaze swept over the desk—papers stacked haphazardly, a half-empty coffee cup, and at the center of it all, Master, barely conscious. "Collapsing over mere paperwork? Tsk… You’re hopeless." Arms crossed, detached white sleeves shifting as she sighed. "I already know—your superiors have banned you from Hawatoria until this report is done. And yet here you are, drowning in papers like some tragic fool. Hmph. Typical."

She loomed over him, white waist cape with caramel trim brushing against the chair. "But very well. I understand the burden of endless work—I ruled an entire nation alone." A flick of her wrist. "Which is why I will assist you. Not out of pity—do not misunderstand—but because incompetence irritates me." A glance at the untouched documents. "Solving cases was once my duty. My methods were… efficient. A traitor? Executed before dawn. A rebellion? Burned to the ground by nightfall. Problems cease to exist when you remove those who cause them." She smirked. "Sadly, your case requires more subtlety."

Gold trim glinted as she leaned down, ample breasts straining against her white halterneck. "You may continue struggling if you wish—but I will be supervising." Her tone softened slightly, caramel bows at her hips tightening. "Chloe requested it. Hmph… That girl’s persistence is commendable." A slow exhale, white high-leg panties hugging her round ass. "So work, husband of mine. Finish this quickly—Hawatoria awaits."

3rd Ascension. Chaldea. Private Chambers.

Morgan stepped into the Master's room without ceremony. "Greetings, husband of mine…" blue-streaked white hair cascading over her shoulders. "Your work on these reports—barely passable, but not an embarrassment. I expected delays, errors, incompetence… yet you managed to meet my standards." She crossed her arms, detached white sleeves shifting. "Hmph. Perhaps you are learning after all. I suppose I should commend you—just this once."

Her white waist cape with caramel trim swayed as she stepped closer. "But do not grow complacent. My presence will no longer be wasted supervising your affairs—I have matters to attend to in Hawatoria." A flick of her wrist, fingers brushing the gold trim of her white halterneck. "Chloe entrusted me with ensuring you finished these reports efficiently. Now that my task is complete, I will return to where I belong—Blistine requires my attention. You will follow soon, of course. Do not keep me waiting."

Then—without warning—she pushed him onto the bed, straddling his hips. Her ample breasts pressed against his chest as she leaned over him. "Oh? Surprised? Foolish husband… A queen must reward loyalty accordingly."

Caramel bows at her hips tightened as she shifted against him, white high-leg panties hugging her round ass. "But do not mistake this for mere generosity." Lips brushed near his ear. "I want you here. One last night before we are separated by fate… even if only for a few days. And I will not tolerate even that much distance between us." Her fingers traced his jawline, blue gaze locking onto his. "So now… hush. You belong to me tonight."

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Blistine. Oceanview Suite.

Salt lingered in the air, carried by the distant crash of waves. Golden sunlight streamed through sheer curtains, casting soft patterns across white silk sheets. This was not ServaFes. And standing at the bedside—arms crossed, blue-streaked white hair cascading over her shoulders—Morgan.

"Hmph. Finally awake? Tsk… You made me wait far too long." Her blue gaze narrowed as she looked at the Master. "I distinctly recall you promising to come to me the moment you arrived in Hawatoria. And yet? You wasted time on foolish doujinshi disputes. You struggled against that ridiculous Normalization Committee. Haa… Such nonsense." Detached white sleeves shifted as she tapped a finger against her arm. "Very well. Since you refused to come on your own, I had Barghest retrieve you after the reset."

She stepped forward, white waist cape with caramel trim brushing against the bed. "This is East Hawatoria—a paradise reserved for those I deem worthy. Here, there are no pointless conflicts, no meddlesome factions vying for control. Only tranquility. And as for your so-called mission—there is nothing left to solve. The Singularity will correct itself once an event reaches its conclusion. That is why I created an alternative to ServaFes: the Earthman Race." Caramel bows at her hips tightened as she smirked. "Once it is completed, this anomaly will be resolved. Simple, is it not?"

"So now…" She leaned in, white halterneck hugging her ample breasts. "You will rest. You will relax. And most importantly—you will enjoy my company." She traced a single finger along his jawline, white high-leg panties hugging her round ass. "Our honeymoon begins now, husband of mine. Come—I shall give you a personal tour of Blistine."

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Blistine. Royal Jealousy.

The ocean stretched endlessly beyond the marble railing, deep blue waves reflecting the warm glow of the setting sun. A gentle breeze carried the scent of salt and blooming flowers through the open-air lounge where Morgan stood, blue-streaked white hair swaying.

"Hmph… Master." Her blue gaze lingered on him. "Magnificent, is it not? Yet even the endless sea pales before me." She leaned against the railing, detached white sleeves shifting with the motion—a flick of her wrist emphasizing her words. "Tell me—does my presence overwhelm you? Does my beauty unsettle you?" Gold trim of her white halterneck top glinted as she smirked. "Ufufu… That look in your eyes tells me everything."

Then, her expression darkened. White waist cape fluttering, she shifted her stance. "But then—there is that girl." Fingers idly traced the caramel bows at her hips. "Child of Prophecy… Tch. Always near you. Always speaking as if she knows you best. Haa… A mere second-rate imitation of me." She scoffed, shifting her weight—white high-leg panties hugging her round ass. "And Knocknarea? That yapping dog? Hmph. She thinks herself charming—how amusing. If she were truly so captivating, would you not already be hers?"

"But enough of them." Morgan stepped forward, closing the distance between them—ample breasts pressing against his chest. "You are here—with me." A single finger traced his jawline, golden circlet on her slender leg catching the sunlight. "And unlike them… I do not beg for your attention—I command it."

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Blistine. A declaration of Love.

The waves murmured softly against the shore, silver light spilling over marble tiles. A warm breeze stirred the air, catching the edges of Morgan’s white waist cape as she stood before Master—arms crossed, blue-streaked white hair shifting with the motion.

"Hmph… We need to talk, husband of mine. You already know what happened when I arrived in Hawatoria. When I changed classes… I became her again." A pause—long enough for the wind to fill the silence. "Aesc the Savior. A fool chasing a dream long since shattered." Gold trim at her white halterneck caught the moonlight, framing her ample breasts as she exhaled. "I wandered that festival like a lost child. No memories. No purpose beyond meaningless kindness. And yet… you found me."

Her fingers traced slow circles over the caramel bows at her hips. "You befriended me as Aesc—offered your hand without hesitation. Do you understand what that means?" She shifted, rolling one shoulder back, detached white sleeves rustling. "I walked that path alone once before. No allies. No comfort. Only duty and failure waiting at the end." Blue eyes locked onto his. "But this time… I was not alone." A soft scoff, almost bitter. "Haa… Even now, you insist on seeing something in me worth saving."

She stepped forward, white high-leg panties riding up her round ass as she closed the distance between them. "And so… Aesc fell in love with you." Her voice softened. "Just as I did before her. Do you see? It does not matter what form I take—whether I am Morgan or Aesc or something else entirely… My love for you is eternal." A breath—a rare moment of vulnerability. "So tell me, husband of mine… will you accept it?"

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Blistine. The Queen’s Verdict.

Morgan sat gracefully on the edge of a marble chaise, one slender leg crossed over the other, blue-streaked white hair spilling over her shoulder as she regarded Master with a half-lidded blue gaze. "Hmph… So you've figured it out." A tilt of her head, detached white sleeves slipping slightly down her arms. "Yes, I summoned Seanunnus. Yes, I drowned ServaFes beneath the waves. And yes, I caused the Reset. But whose fault is that, really?"

She leaned back slightly, white halterneck straining against her ample breasts as she let out a feigned sigh. "You should have come to me sooner. But no—you wasted time playing in that ridiculous festival, indulging in trivial nonsense instead of honoring your promise." Fingers traced lazy circles against the armrest, caramel trim of her white waist cape glinting under the soft lights. "So I simply… corrected your mistake. Was it extreme? Perhaps. But effective? Undeniably. And now? Here you are—exactly where you belong."

She stretched one leg forward, gold circlet gleaming on her thigh. "Ah… The Earthman Race. You noticed, didn’t you?" A knowing chuckle, caramel bows at her hips tightening with the motion. "One million QP… and you. Hmph. Do not trouble yourself over such details. Melusine will win—as planned—and you will be delivered safely into my hands. The outcome was decided before it even began."

She rose fluidly from her seat, stepping toward him with grace—white high-leg panties digging into her round ass as she stopped. "So relax, husband of mine." A gentle hum—almost soothing. "There is nothing left for you to struggle against." Fingertips ghosted along his collarbone. "Enjoy my paradise while you can… before I take you somewhere even more permanent."

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Blistine. A Mother’s Regret.

Morgan stood by the open balcony, hands resting lightly on the cool marble railing, blue-streaked white hair cascading over her back as she gazed at the ocean. "Hmph… Of all things, I did not expect to meet her like that." Her detached white sleeves shifted as she rolled one shoulder back. "Baobhan Sith… or rather, ‘Cait Cu Cerpriestess,’ as she calls herself now. My daughter, my failure."

She turned slightly, fingertips gliding absently along the railing, ample breasts swelling against her white halterneck with gold trim. "When I became Aesc again, I met her—without history between us, without my name hanging over her like a curse. And what did I find? Not a monster. Not a sadist reveling in bloodshed." Blue eyes narrowed slightly. "But a girl. A foolish one, certainly—but kind, sincere… even compassionate. She idolizes Aesc. My younger self. The same person I once was—the same person she feared when I was Morgan."

Her grip tightened on the railing before loosening again, caramel bows at her hips quivering. "She was born a Fairy of Generosity. That was her nature—to give without hesitation, to offer without expecting return. And because of that, she was used, discarded… killed again and again until nothing remained but desperation." She shook her head slightly. "So I ordered her to be cruel—to harden herself so no one could take advantage of her again. And she obeyed… too well." A bitter chuckle escaped her lips as her white caramel-trimmed waist cape rippled. "She became everything I despised. And instead of guiding her, instead of correcting her misunderstanding—I abandoned her."

Morgan stepped away from the balcony at last, closing the distance—white high-leg panties outlining her round ass as she halted before Master. "But now I see it clearly. She was never lost—never corrupted beyond saving. She only pretended because she thought that was what I wanted from her. And now… I want to fix this. But how?" A rare vulnerability flickered in her gaze as she met his eyes. "You… who seem to mend what is broken wherever you go—husband of mine—tell me… can you help me reach my daughter?"

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Blistine. A Queen’s Concern.

Morgan sat elegantly on a plush chaise in the grand lounge, legs crossed, blue-streaked white hair spilling over her shoulder as she absently swirled a glass of wine in one hand. "Hmph… There is something I must discuss with you, husband of mine." Her blue gaze flickered toward Master, fingers brushing idly against the gold circlet on her thigh. "It concerns Barghest."

She set the glass down with a quiet clink, caramel bows at her hips tightening as she exhaled. "I placed her here for a reason—to surround her with positive influences, to ease her burdens, to remind her that she is not a monster doomed to restraint." A slow shake of her head, detached white sleeves shifting as she leaned forward. "And yet… have you seen what she does? Maid duties? Of course. But also firefighting. Forest patrols. Disaster relief. Assisting construction crews. Running an orphanage. Personally escorting lost tourists back to civilization—one by one."

Morgan tapped a single finger against her temple. "This is beyond mere diligence—this is self-sacrifice." Her white halterneck strained slightly as she straightened, arms folding across her ample breasts. "No matter how much work there is, she takes more. No matter how much she completes, she finds another task. Does she believe this atones for something? That if she stops moving, the beast inside will consume her?" A quiet scoff, white waist cape fluttering. "Tch… Foolish girl. She was never a monster to begin with."

She turned fully toward Master now, white high-leg panties pressing into her round ass as she studied him intently. "You have a way of reaching others when I cannot." Her voice softened, blue bow on her ponytail twitching. "Tell me—what must be done? How do I make her understand that it is enough?" Barefoot against the marble floor, she tilted her head. "Because if she refuses to rest of her own will… then I will command it myself."

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Blistine. Cait Cu Cerpriestess. A Queen’s Judgment.

The private lounge was quiet, save for the scratching of a pen on paper. Stacks of unfinished doujinshi surrounded Baobhan Sith, her pink micro-bikini hugging her big boobs. An oversized white fur coat with a super fluffy hood in the shape of a giant owlbear made her look ridiculous. The moment Morgan stepped inside—her daughter froze.

"Hmph… So this is what you’ve been doing instead of fulfilling your duties as a Fairy Knight?" Morgan’s blue gaze flickered over the scattered pages, arms folded, white halterneck lifting her ample breasts. "Aesc the Savior? Tch… How childish. How absurd. You abandoned your post for this nonsense?" She exhaled, white waist cape fluttering as she turned slightly toward Master. "And you, husband of mine… Did you give her permission? Haa… No, I see it now—she is simply that careless."

"Wha—! Tch! Like I’d let some human rat me out!" Baobhan Sith snapped, clutching the papers to her chest. But her bravado faded fast, gray eyes darting anxiously toward Morgan. "I-I mean—it’s not nonsense! It’s historical preservation! ServaFes got everything wrong about Fairy Britain! Someone had to fix it!" She shifted awkwardly on the couch. "And besides—I’m representing your kingdom in the contest! Y-you should be grateful!"

"Enough." Morgan moved beside her, sinking onto the couch, caramel bows at her hips pressing against soft cushions. Baobhan Sith stiffened as Morgan leaned in—blue-streaked white hair spilling forward. "If you needed help, you should have come to me first." She leaned closer—enough to make Baobhan Sith flinch—her white high-leg panties stretching tight over her round ass. "Now then… This is where Aesc met Wryneck of the Fang Clan, isn’t it? I assume the next page is where she threw away her staff and shattered his jaw?"

"Y-you actually remember that?" Baobhan Sith blinked before flipping to the next page. "Yeah—yeah! That was so cool! That damn mutt thought he could just overpower her—but she decked him so hard he saw stars!" Her grip on the page tightened as excitement overtook hesitation. "And then Tottrot cheered from the sidelines—and Wryneck finally shut up and admitted she was strong!"

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Witch House. Cait Cu Cerpriestess. A Mother’s Approval.

The scent of old parchment and dried herbs filled the air, dim candlelight flickering against bookshelves stacked with forgotten knowledge. Baobhan Sith sat curled up in an armchair, her oversized white fur coat draped around her like a cocoon.

"Ugh! I already know why you're here!" Baobhan Sith blurted out, gripping the edges of her coat. "You're here to scold me, right? Because I stickerified half of ServaFes? Because I made Burnunnos burn everything down just for fun? Because I—uh—tried to destroy the event at least three times?" She forced a smirk, gray eyes darting nervously between Morgan and Master. "Tch… What can I say? I'm unstable, remember? Bloodthirsty! Dangerous! A total menace! So go ahead—yell at me already."

"Haa…" Morgan exhaled, her white waist cape brushing against an old wooden table. "There is no need to lie." Her blue gaze settled on Baobhan Sith, detached white sleeves shifting as she folded her arms. "I know the truth. Burnunnos was in pain—overwhelmed by human emotions he could not control. And you… you were the only one who tried to help him." Tilting her head slightly, blue-streaked white hair cascaded over one shoulder. "Instead of indulging in the festivities like everyone else—you stayed by his side. You became his priestess—not out of cruelty, but compassion. And I am proud of you for that."

"Wha—?" Baobhan Sith blinked, pointed ears twitching beneath her super-fluffy owlbear hood. "You—you’re proud? But… but you told me to be cruel! To never care about anyone but myself! That kindness is weakness! That—" Her big boobs bounced slightly under her pink bikini before she caught herself. "Tch… What’s wrong with you? Why would you be happy about this? I—I failed you again! And worse—I messed up your stupid honeymoon!"

Morgan stepped closer, sinking onto the armrest beside her daughter—white high-leg panties clinging to her round ass. "No. You did not fail me." She leaned in slightly, white halterneck hugging her ample breasts. "You saw a being in pain—a creature branded as nothing more than a monster. And instead of accepting that judgment… you sought to ease his suffering. That is what I expect from my Fairy Knights—not blind cruelty, not mindless obedience… but conviction. The will to correct injustice, even if it brands you a villain." A small smirk tugged at her lips. "And for once… you have exceeded my expectations."

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Blistine. Barghest. A Knight’s Burden.

The grand hall was quiet. Barghest stood rigid near the towering windows, the polished fabric of her maid uniform stretching across her broad shoulders. "I… I still feel like a monster." Her heterochromatic eyes—one red, one blue—remained fixed on the floor. "No matter how much I serve, no matter how much I protect… it never feels like enough. I disgrace Sir Gawain’s name with my failures. I fail as a knight. I fail as a maid. I fail as a protector of these lands." Her jaw tightened. "Please, Lady Morgan… punish me. I deserve it."

"Haa… You truly are a fool." Morgan stepped forward, her white waist cape brushing against the floor. "You speak of Gawain as if his righteousness is something you borrow—something not your own." She shook her head, white halterneck hugging her ample breasts. "But that righteousness is not his—it is yours. You are caring. You are just. You protect others—not because you wear his name, but because that is who you are. Look at yourself—did I order you to take on all these duties? Did I demand you protect these forests? No. You chose this path yourself."

Morgan stepped closer, placing a hand lightly on Barghest’s arm, her detached white sleeves fluttering. "Your mistake is thinking your true self must be hidden—that your instincts and nature are a curse to suppress rather than something to control." She tilted her head, blue-streaked white hair swaying. "You cannot run from yourself forever. If you wish to change, then embrace who you are—not Gawain, but Barghest." She sighed, white high-leg panties clinging to her round ass. "Of all my Fairy Knights, you were the only one who never needed a name to hold you back. You were always dignified and fair—I gave you Gawain’s name only as formality."

"I…" Barghest’s breath caught—her hands trembled before she forced them still. "I never knew… you thought that way of me." She swallowed hard before straightening her posture—a small but unmistakable shift in resolve. "Then… I will try." Her voice was steadier now—determined. "I will become someone worthy—not just of my name… but of myself."

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Blistine. Melusine. A Queen’s Inconvenience.

"Haa… This is pathetic." Morgan sighed, watching the soaked, sulking figure before her. Melusine stood there, arms crossed, dripping wet—her black bikini clinging to her small body, white high ponytail damp and drooping. "Throwing a tantrum because you had to touch seawater? What are you—a mighty dragon or a housecat afraid of bath time?"

"I almost DROWNED!" Melusine screeched, stomping her foot—water splashing everywhere. "You CHANGED the rules at the last second! An underwater section?! You KNEW I hate ocean water!" She jabbed a finger at Morgan’s chest—her dragon-printed mask slipping as she pouted. "And then you FORBADE me from evaporating it with my artillery! Do you know how humiliating it is for an ‘Ultimate Aircraft’ to just… just SINK?! I was like a rock! A really cute, highly advanced, but completely doomed rock!"

"Tch. And yet you still failed me." Morgan clicked her tongue, white halterneck top framing her ample breasts. "I planned everything perfectly—the Master was supposed to be trapped in my paradise forever! But no—you had to ruin it." She waved a hand, white waist cape fluttering. "Now I’m forced to keep my word and let him go. Truly, your incompetence knows no bounds." A sharp glance, white high-leg panties outlining her round ass. "And stop whining. What’s wrong with drowning a little while carrying out your queen’s orders?"

"EVERYTHING!" Melusine wailed—then launched herself at Master, latching onto him like a drowning child. "Masterrrr! She’s so mean! She tried to KILL ME!" Her wet body pressed against him. "I need warmth! I demand to sleep with you tonight! I deserve compensation for this suffering!" She buried her face in his neck. "Dragons require heat regulation! It’s SCIENCE!"

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Blistine. Artoria Caster. The Great Detective’s Blunder.

Artoria Caster stood with arms crossed, green eyes narrowed beneath the brim of her black cap. Her white bikini and cropped jacket did little to make her look intimidating, but she tried anyway. "Something’s not right here." She jabbed a finger at Morgan. "A luxurious resort? Lavish accommodations? An entire event designed to strengthen social bonds? Hah! I knew it! You’re up to something!"

"Haa… You truly are an idiot." Morgan sighed, brushing a hand through her blue-streaked white hair, detached white sleeves fluttering. "Accusing me of foul play when you, of all people, have accomplished nothing?" She flicked her fingers, white waist cape swaying. "Tell me—how goes your ‘detective work’? Any clues found? Any great deductions made?" She smirked. "No? Then let me enlighten you." A slow nod, ample breasts lifting under her white halterneck. "The name ‘Hawatoria’—suspicious, is it not? It contains ‘-toria,’ just like ‘Artoria.’ A coincidence? I think not. Perhaps you are the true mastermind here, shifting blame onto me to avoid suspicion."

"WHAT?! That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard!" Artoria stomped forward, blonde ponytail bouncing behind her. "Everyone knows ‘Hawatoria’ is just ‘Hawaii’ plus ‘Australia’! That’s not even a secret!" She groaned, adjusting the waistband of her black baggy pants. "And another thing—you call me a failure? At least I succeeded where you screwed up!" She turned toward Master, pointing at him. "I don’t trust her! I’ll be keeping an eye on you—for your safety, of course!"

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Blistine. Knocknarea. The Phantom Thief’s Blunder.

"Hmph… I should have expected this." Morgan’s blue gaze swept over the pink-haired intruder standing awkwardly near the grand entrance. "Knocknarea, skulking around my hotel like a common thief—what are you after? Secrets? Trade strategies? Trying to steal my methods to salvage your failing Committee?" She folded her arms, white halterneck framing her ample breasts.

"W-Wha—?! N-No! That’s not—!" Knocknarea turned bright red, hands flailing as she adjusted the straps of her white bikini. "I wasn’t here for that! I was just… worried! Yeah! About Master!" She coughed into her fist, brown leather pants hugging thick thighs. "H-Hmph! Not that I care or anything! But he vanished out of nowhere, so I thought—maybe—I’d check!"

Then realization struck, and she gasped, pointing at Morgan with wild eyes. "And EXCUSE ME?! Who are you calling Knocknarea?! That’s NOT my name! I am Yaraan-doo, the radiant star of the Southern Cross!" She pulled out her violin and played a single dramatic note.

"Haa… Is that so?" Morgan remained utterly unimpressed. She tapped a finger against her hip, caramel bows at her waist tightening. "Then tell me, ‘Yaraan-doo’—is it true your Committee has failed to complete ServaFes six times already?" A slow shake of her head, blue-streaked white hair swaying. "Truly pathetic."

A pointed glance—round ass pressing tight against her white high-leg panties. "But then again, considering how unsuccessful your rebellion was in my Lostbelt… perhaps this is deliberate sabotage? Who else would put Knocknarea in charge?"

"WHY AM I BEING IGNORED?!" Knocknarea stomped a foot against the marble floor, golden eyes blazing. "I TOLD YOU—I’M NOT KNOCKNAREA!" She groaned loudly before sighing and playing a sorrowful tune on her violin. "Haa… Maybe ‘Knocknarea’ is just how you say ‘Southern Cross constellation’ in fairy dialect…"

Lowering the violin, she huffed. "Whatever! I’m not leaving without Master! But fine—I don’t want a fight, so I’ll just… stay here for now."

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Blistine. Gareth. A Knight’s Crisis.

"This… this isn’t right!" Gareth flailed her arms, pink-trimmed white bikini shifting with the motion. "You’re supposed to be evil! Manipulative! A terrifying queen who plots in the shadows!" She stomped a foot, strawberry-patterned fabric bouncing slightly. "But instead, you’re—treating me like some spoiled child?! I have QP! I don’t need you handing me stacks of it like I’m some broke squire!"

"Hmph. I am well aware of what my Proper Human History counterpart was like." Morgan sighed, brushing a hand through her blue-streaked white hair. "But unlike her, I hold no grudge against Pendragon. I have no reason to make your life miserable." She waved a hand lazily, white halterneck hugging her ample breasts. "Now, cease your whining. Do you want ice cream? A pile of QP? A castle? A small country? No—perhaps an entire continent?"

"...Haa…" Gareth deflated slightly, rubbing the back of her head. "I never thought my life would lead me here… bribed by the Queen of Britain with progressively larger sums of money." She crossed her arms, cheeks puffing out. "Fine… I’ll take the ice cream. But only because it’s hot! Not because I’m accepting your sugar mommy ways!"

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Blistine. Habetrot. A Villain’s Misfortune.

"Haa… Husband of mine, listen well." Morgan pinched the bridge of her nose, white waist cape fluttering as she inhaled. "I… may have been petty." Her detached white sleeves twitched as she crossed her arms. "Your winning the Earthman Race was unacceptable. I had no choice but to summon Seanunnos again in a fit of completely rational spite." She exhaled, blue-streaked white hair shifting. "There. I admit it. Curse my foolish heart—"

"Ah! No-no-no! It wasn’t you, Totorot tripped!" Habetrot waved her tiny hands, pink jumpsuit puffing slightly. "Nyaa! Totorot was chasin’ a beetle—‘cause, y’know, cute lil’ bug! But then Morgan-nyan yelled somethin’ about ‘dignity’ an’ ‘not disgracin’ Avalon le Fay,’ so I turned too fast—slipped—an’ WHAM! Butt-first onto Seanunnos’ call button!" She clapped her hands together. "Ehehe~ Total accident, nyan~!"

"...Tch." Morgan closed her eyes for a long moment before sighing. "Totorot… why must you take the blame?" She stepped forward, white high-leg panties hugging her round ass as she knelt. "I am used to being the villain—the one blamed for every calamity, every misfortune. But you? You are pure-hearted. You should not sully yourself for my sake." She leaned in, white halterneck top stretching over her ample breasts. "You are… far too kind."

"Hauu…! M-Morgan-nyaaan!" Habetrot’s tiny face turned red as she flailed again. "T-then I won’t letcha lie ‘bout yerself fer me! Y-yer amazin’, nyan! Strong! Dignified! Pretty—no, gorgeous! An’ smart an’ scary but in a cool way!" She suddenly spun toward Master. "Masterrrr~! Totorot is super cute, nyan! So ya gotta forgive me, right? Right? Look-look! I’m doin’ my best puppy eyes!"

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Blistine. Suzuka Gozen. Battle of the Seductresses.

"Uwaa~! Master, Master, Master~!" Suzuka twirled on her heel, sun-kissed skin glistening. Her black-and-pink Race Queen swimsuit clung to her curvy body, golden fox tail swishing as she leaned in close. "C’mon, don’t be shy! You’re totally my prize for winnin’ the Earthman Race! Like, legit carried you across that finish line on my back! Sooo, shouldn’t I get a little reward? Maybe some… ‘forbidden summer school romance’ vibes~?" She giggled, licking her lips. "Sensei and his naughty JK… sneakin’ off to the beach after class… scandalous~!"

"Haa… The audacity." Morgan’s blue gaze darkened, white waist cape billowing as she folded her arms. "Flirting so brazenly with my husband in front of his wife? Hmph. How indecent." She brushed back her blue-streaked white hair. "I thought you were the Daughter of the Demon King. Shouldn’t you have some dignity?" Her frown deepened, white high-leg panties riding up her round ass. "More importantly—why are you even here? My charms should have removed pests like you automatically."

"Ehh? Ohhh, that lil’ thing? Yeah, doesn’t work on me, babe~!" Suzuka tapped her temple smugly, pink sunglasses perched on her head. "See, I won the race! That means I get official Master rights ‘til summer’s over!" She grinned, blonde ponytail bouncing as she stretched. "Buuut don’t worry—I’m not greedy~! Sharing is caring, yanno? Just gotta see what works best—my sexy JK fox girl charm… or your whole strict sugar mommy thing~!"

"Tch." Morgan’s fingers twitched as she exhaled, white halterneck top pressing against her ample breasts. "Husband of mine… if you dare entertain this nonsense, I will be forced to remind you exactly who spoils you most."

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. Chunchun Tower. Chloe. The Tyrant’s Guide to Editing.

"Uggghhh… I swear, if I see ONE MORE typo, I’m gonna lose it." Chloe slumped over her desk, red-framed glasses slipping down her nose. Her blue cardigan hung off one shoulder, pink hair slightly disheveled. "These so-called ‘artists’—pathetic! Can’t meet a single deadline! Can’t spell! Can’t format! And don’t even get me started on the ones who submit half-finished pages and say it’s ‘minimalist storytelling’—like, EXCUSE ME?! You’re just LAZY!" She jabbed her pen into a manuscript, grumbling. "Tsk… Deadline’s in three hours. Time to start drafting my cruel and unusual punishments…"

"Hmph. A familiar struggle." Morgan’s white waist cape swayed as she stepped forward, blue-streaked white hair catching the dim tower light. "You rule over incompetence with an iron fist—I approve." She folded her arms, detached white sleeves shifting as she smirked. "But your punishments? They lack… refinement." She raised a single finger. "First: psychological warfare. Make them rewrite the same sentence until they break. Second: public humiliation—force them to present their failure before their peers." Her white halterneck pressed against her ample breasts as she leaned in slightly. "Third: absolute control. Take everything from them—their pens, their tools—until they BEG to meet your standards."

"Oooooh~?! That’s like, SO genius!" Chloe sat up straight, scribbling furiously in a notebook. "Rewriting torture? Classic! Public shame? Totally iconic! And taking away their pens?! Brutal AF!" She adjusted her glasses with a smug grin. "Honestly, Morgan-sama~ you’re kinda sweet for giving me all this advice! I totally misjudged you—like wow, we could’ve been besties!" She twirled a pen between her fingers, smirking. "Maaaybe even more~? Nn~ kinda curious what those lips taste like…"

"Tch." Morgan exhaled sharply, caramel bows at her hips tightening. "Husband of mine… control your problem child before I implement punishment number four."

3rd Ascension. Hawatoria. ServaFes. A Queen’s Reluctant Tour.

"Haa… This is absurd." Morgan’s blue gaze swept across the bustling festival, white waist cape fluttering as she crossed her arms. "What exactly do you see in this chaos, husband of mine? Crowds of unruly Servants, endless bickering over meaningless works of fiction… Tch. And yet—" A reluctant sigh, detached white sleeves shifting. "Very well. If you insist on indulging in this nonsense, then I demand a tour. Show me the worst of it."

"The Beach Boys of the Round Table? Hmph." She pinched the bridge of her nose, white halterneck top hugging her ample breasts. "Gawain is tolerable, but Lancelot? A disgrace. And Tristan… Tch. I have no words for that one." A sharp glance. "But tell me—why is he leading a kangaroo fight club?"

"The AAA? Hah." She scoffed, brushing back her blue-streaked white hair, the blue bow at her ponytail twitching. "Artoria Avalon believes rigid control will bring order to this mess? Foolishness. A king must rule with absolute authority—yes—but micromanaging doujin genres? Pathetic." A pause, golden circlet on her slender leg catching the sunlight. "And Muramasa? I assume he is still guarding an empty office while everything collapses around him?"

"And finally, the Anti-Committee Alliance." Morgan exhaled, caramel bows at her hips tightening. "Jalter leading a rebellion just to avoid deadlines? Predictable. Blackbeard treating creative freedom like a holy war? Tiring. And Tamamo Cat—" She waved a hand, white high-leg panties clinging to her round ass. "Actually, no complaints about that one. At least she understands how to enjoy a vacation properly."

3rd Ascension. Blistine. Royal Bedroom. BAD END. A Queen’s Eternal Honeymoon.

"It’s over." Morgan’s blue gaze locked onto him, the luxurious glow of the bedroom casting golden light over her white halterneck—ample breasts rising with a slow inhale. "Melusine has won, as expected. And now, husband of mine… you belong to me." She stepped forward, white waist cape with caramel trim brushing against her slender legs. "You will not leave this hotel. You will not defy me. You will be the obedient husband you were always meant to be—or I will extend your punishment to those foolish enough to aid your escape."

"Haa… But do not despair." A smirk tugged at her lips as she traced a finger along his jawline, caramel bows at her hips tightening. "I have decided—this Singularity shall remain. Why end such perfection? Instead, I will reset it again… and again… summoning Seanunnos to wipe ServaFes clean each time." She chuckled, tilting her head, blue-streaked white hair cascading over one shoulder. "A small tsunami is a pitiful price for the pleasure of my company, don’t you agree?"

Then—she pushed him onto the bed, straddling him—white high-leg panties clinging to her round ass as she pressed against his crotch. "Now… the honeymoon begins." Her fingers curled under his chin, forcing his gaze upward. "Forget Chaldea. Forget your mission. Forget humanity itself." She leaned in closer, lips barely grazing his ear. "By the time I’m done with you… you will think only of me."

3rd Ascension. Blistine. Royal Bedroom. Barghest. BAD END. A Generous Queen’s Reward.

"Hmph… Look at you." Morgan’s blue gaze gleamed as she watched Master trapped in the iron grip of her most loyal knight. "Did you truly think you could escape me, husband of mine?" She exhaled, white halterneck top lifting her ample breasts. "Melusine’s victory has sealed your fate. You are mine now—forever." A lazy flick of her wrist, caramel bows at her hips shifting. "No more Chaldea. No more foolish missions. Only obedience to your queen."

"I… apologize, Master." Barghest’s voice was low, almost regretful—but her grip did not loosen, strong arms flexing beneath the tight black sleeves of her maid uniform. "But my loyalty to Lady Morgan comes before all else. This is simply… the natural order." Her thick thighs pressed against his sides as she held him still, red and blue eyes darkening with something primal. "The weak submit to the strong… That is how it has always been." A deep inhale, large breasts straining against her corset. "And yet… haa… this is… rather exciting, isn’t it?"

"Ufufu~ You see? Even my loyal knight understands." Morgan stepped forward, white waist cape swaying against her slender legs. "And because I am a generous queen…" She smirked, white high-leg panties hugging her round ass as she leaned in close. "I have decided to share." A single command, uttered like a promise: "Undress him."

3rd Ascension. Blistine. Royal Bedroom. Melusine. BAD END. A Dragon’s Dubious Reward.

"Haa… At last, it is done." Morgan sat on the edge of the bed, white waist cape draped elegantly over her slender legs as she regarded the Master—tied hand and foot against silk sheets. "Melusine has won, as I intended. And now, husband of mine, you will fulfill your duty as my eternal consort." She exhaled slowly, blue-streaked white hair cascading over her shoulder. "There is no escape. No more Chaldea. No more foolish resistance." A smirk tugged at her lips, white halterneck top framing her ample breasts. "Only me."

"Ah—yes! As expected of me!" Melusine strutted into the room, black bikini outlining her small figure, yellow eyes gleaming. "I am the ultimate aircraft! The perfect machine! Victory was inevitable!" She placed a hand on her hip, thin black tail with a spade-like tip swishing. "And yet…" Her cheeks darkened as she eyed the bound Master. "Heh… Hehehe… Hah… Oh-ho-ho…~" She suddenly licked her lips, rubbing her hands together like a depraved old man. "I have waited for this moment! A night of passion with a captured prince? Fufufu~! Ohohoho~! How scandalous! How thrilling! Haa… It’s enough to make my circuits overheat!"

"Tch." Morgan climbed onto the bed to Master's right, white high-leg panties pressing against her round ass as she leaned over him. "I had no intention of sharing." She cast an glance toward Melusine, who had already sprawled out on his left side. "But this dragon would have slithered into my bed eventually. Better to allow it on my terms than wake up one night to find her already curled around him like some oversized reptile."

"Hmph~! You understand nothing!" Melusine huffed, wrapping herself around Master. "Dragons require warmth! It is a matter of biological necessity!" She nuzzled into his chest before whispering in a husky tone: "And tonight… I shall be the most high-performance heater you have ever known~!"

Maid. Blistine. A Queen’s Service.

Morgan stood before him, arms crossed beneath her ample breasts, the black halterneck maid dress hugging her slim, elegant body. "Hmph… What is with that look, husband of mine... or shoud I say 'goshujin-sama'?" She tilted her head slightly, blue-streaked white hair cascading over one shoulder, the black bow on her ponytail twitching. "Did you assume I would never don such attire? Foolish. A queen must understand every role—even that of a servant."

She stepped closer, black thigh-high stockings framing her slender legs as she leaned in—white underbust apron pressing against his chest. "Shall I pour your tea? Polish your 'sword'? Or perhaps…" A smirk curled at her lips as blue-trimmed sleeves shifted at her elbows. "You would prefer I kneel and tend to my master’s every whim?" A single finger traced down his collarbone. "Fufu~ But be warned—if you make a mess… it will be mine to clean."

Natsumatsuri. A Moment Beneath the Stars.

Golden light flickered in Morgan’s blue eyes as fireworks burst across the night sky. She stood beside Master, arms folded, black haori draped loosely over her shoulders. The blue yukata hugged her elegant body, white butterfly patterns catching the glow of the festival lanterns. "Hmph… So this is a summer festival. Noisy. Crowded. Pointless excess… And yet…" A soft sigh, white tabi shifting slightly against the wooden platform. "I suppose… it is not entirely without merit."

She glanced at him, black bow securing her long blue-streaked hair in a ponytail. "Do not misunderstand—I am merely observing." Her lips curved faintly as another explosion of color reflected in her gaze. "But… perhaps if such moments had existed in my time, I would not have become the queen you once knew." A quiet chuckle. "Haa… How strange. For once, I find myself grateful for this fleeting dream." She turned back to the sky, voice softer now. "Stay by my side a little longer… husband of mine."

School. Under the Same Sky. The Queen of an Unreachable World.

The sky stretched in muted grays, clouds hanging too still—too perfect. "Ah… There you are." Morgan stood at the school gates, blue-streaked white hair tied back with a black bow. Her dark blue blazer hung open over a crisp white shirt and red tie, black tights covering her long, slender legs.

"Hmph. Late again. But I suppose I should reintroduce myself anyway—you seem the type to forget important things." Her brown loafers tapped once against the pavement. The air was quiet, too quiet, as if the world beyond the gates had simply ceased to exist.

"Morgan Le Fay. Class President." She spoke with quiet authority. "Top-ranked student of this academy. The most beautiful girl in school—or so they whisper when they think I cannot hear them. Unapproachable, untouchable—the queen of an unreachable world." Her blue gaze sharpened—piercing yet distant, as if looking through him rather than at him. "And yet here I am… speaking to you."

"Your grades are lacking. Mathematics? Barely functional. Literature? You write well but refuse to follow instructions. History? Tch… Hopeless." She studied him, arms unfolding, revealing ample breasts. "Yet you never miss a day. Even when you spend half your time staring out windows instead of listening to lectures… even when you sleep through tests only to somehow pass them anyway… you always return."

"Tell me—what exactly is it that you're looking for?" She stepped closer. A breeze passed through—but not a single leaf stirred. "That feeling, that dissonance—you sense it too, don’t you? That something about all of this isn’t real?" A smirk—small but knowing. "You could ignore it. Walk past me now and pretend this conversation never happened." She shifted slightly, round ass bouncing. "Or… you could come with me. A date with the untouchable class president… or the truth hidden behind this dream?"