Chapter 174: Morgana Le F*ck (R18)

"Holy sh*t, is that Hell Wine?" Ricky's attempt at playing it cool shattered the moment he laid eyes on the bottle Morgana retrieved from her cellar.

The (Legendary Skill) Toxic Immunity granted Ricky an unparalleled resistance to an absurd range of poisons, so extensive that it would baffle anyone who truly understood its scope.

Yet, the only thing Ricky cared about was the fact that, despite his already superhuman vitality making it difficult for him to get drunk, this skill had now made it outright impossible.

It was the main reason he had started switching to cigars as alcohol had lost all effect on him, reducing drinking to nothing more than a social formality.

The one and only time Ricky had ever managed to get drunk was during his trial, when he tasted the illustrious Hell Wine, Mephisto's own concoction.

It had been potent enough to bypass even his superhuman vitality and later, even with Toxic Immunity, it remained the only drink that could affect him. 

The problem was that he had a limited supply and Ricky didn't like the demon enough to reach out again.

Yet, he had been tempted, so f*cking tempted that he had seriously considered making another deal.

And then, out of nowhere, Morgana pulled out a bottle.

"It is." Morgana chuckled, watching Ricky all but drool as his eyes locked onto the swirling liquid pouring from the bottle into one of the two wine glasses.

"Am I to assume you've met Mephisto?" Morgana asked, amusement dancing on her tongue as Ricky let out a heavy sigh, running a hand down his face that only made Morgana chuckle more.

"Much like this hell wine, he is an acquired taste," Morgana said with a smile, filling Ricky's glass before pouring her own.

"Well, unlike this f*cking delicious hell wine, I have yet to enjoy Mephisto," Ricky muttered, taking a sip as the bitter yet demonically sweet flavor swirled across his tongue, a taste both intoxicating and infuriating in its rarity.

Gulp

"Oh, sweet baby Jesus, that is better than sex~" Ricky sighed in relief, already feeling the warm rush flood through his body as he downed the entire glass in one gulp.

Morgana's eyes lifted at his statement as she swirled the wine in her glass, a smirk playing on her lips. With a flick of her fingers, glowing with a soft purple hue, five bottles suddenly lined up perfectly in front of Ricky's now-empty glass.

There were many ways to a man's heart, and for Ricky, one of them was really, really good booze.

"I shouldn't-"

"I insist-"

"I mean, if you insist." Ricky didn't even let her finish, hungrily grabbing a bottle and ripping off the cap as Morgana stared at him for a long moment, her smirk widening with amusement.

Gulp

Gulp

Watching Ricky down the entire bottle of hell wine like a sailor starved for years, Morgana leaned back on the couch, her gaze distant and thoughtful. 

She swirled the wine in her glass, watching the deep, purplish-red liquid swirl with a pensive smile playing on her lips.

Her eyes fell to the reflection in her glass, focusing on her own image, distorted in the liquid. 

This wasn't just a drink, it was liquid courage, a means to cast aside her pride and reach for the very thing she had wanted most.

The last time she rejected the hand of a powerful man, she'd found herself chained for centuries and Morgana refused to make that mistake again.

Morgana knew exactly what kind of man Ricky was and what it would cost for him to give her his full support. 

She understood the price, and she was willing to pay it since people had given up more for less.

With that thought weighing heavily in her mind, she closed her eyes and drained the entire glass, savoring the warmth that spread through her. 

She wiped her lips with her thumb just as Ricky, about to reach for the next bottle, suddenly froze.

"Woah, look at you." Ricky chuckled, his eyes wide as he watched Morgana grab another bottle to pour herself another glass.

"I took you for someone who'd nurse their drink through the entire night, but here I am, slack-jawed and wrong." Ricky said, tipping the bottle toward her, ripping off the cork with a swift motion, all while Morgana smiled, amused by his reaction.

"What kind of host would I be if I didn't keep up with my esteemed guest?" Morgana asked, raising her glass with a playful smirk.

"A sober one!" Ricky laughed, tipping the wine bottle to his lips and enjoying another stream of hell wine flushing down his gullet.

Morgana laughed, joining in on the festivities and drinking her fill, though slower than Ricky, who reluctantly released the bottle from his lips.

"Alright, I gotta ask you something that's been on my mind," Ricky suddenly heaved, forcefully plucking the hell wine bottle away from his longing lips. 

Morgana opened one of her eyes, savoring her second glass, her curiosity piqued while staring directly at him.

"If it is in my power then please, ask away." Morgana assured, closing it and savoring the taste as the armor filled her nose.

"What happened with you and Percival in that throne room?" Ricky asked, his words causing Morgana to freeze, the liquid about to pour onto her lips halting mid-air. 

His question was loosely referring to a memory that had been on repeat in his mind when he was younger. 

However Morgana knew the exact moment he was referring to as she sort of sat there for a second before opening her eyes.

"Ah, you're referring to Camelot's civil war," Morgana said, her gaze dropping along with her glass that she slowly sat down.

"Uh, I guess," Ricky replied, unsure where that memory had come from but simply going with the flow as Morgana spoke.

"Do you know what's funny about the fall of the storied kingdom of Camelot?" Morgana suddenly laughed, swirling the wine glass around in her hand as Ricky raised an eyebrow.

"It all started when it was exposed that Sir Lancelot was engaged in an affair with Queen Guinevere." Morgana said, smirking a little at how the chain events all started at that specific moment as Ricky laughed.

"No f*cking way."

"Yes way."

"Did you, like, manipulate them into betraying Arthur so they could be together?" Ricky asked, his eyes curious as he watched Morgana shake her head slowly.

"No, at that time, Camelot had reached its peak of prosperity, but the lands were surrounded by enemies, everyone wanting to carve out a piece of its glory for themselves." Morgana replied, a faint sigh escaping her lips at remembering the highest reaches her kingdom climbed.

"So you joined their enemies and then laid siege to Camelot?" Ricky guessed, pointing the already half-empty third bottle at her as she smirked.

"No, I had come to Arthur, my brother, in hopes of an alliance against the growing number of enemies surrounding not just the lands that belonged to me, but lands that I had ruled on my own." Morgana smiled, remembering the times when Gorre was still within the human realm.

"Before Merlyn had destroyed it." Morgana then shrugged, knowing that the only living residents on Gorre were probably the scorch worms that thrive in such environments.

"Well, after Arthur caught them in the act, he-" Morgana was about to say only for Ricky to lean forward, already knowing where she was going with this conversation.

"No, don't tell me-"

"Yes, Arthur, my kind brother, forgave them." Morgana finished his interruption with her own, properly acknowledging it.

"The f*ck, why?" Ricky asked, watching Morgana shrug, since she didn't understand half the things he did.

"Who knows, but he forgave them both." Morgana genuinely, for the life of her, couldn't understand why Arthur did the things he did, since they were two sides of the same coin. 

One was willing to do everything for others, while the other only did things for herself.

"So did that Lancelot guy kill him?" Ricky at least asked, thinking that's how the civil war had to start, but Morgana chuckled.

"No, it was actually my aide and Arthur's bastard son, Mordred, who stabbed him and wounded him before all the kingdoms surrounding him invaded." Morgana revealed, watching the man with many bastards of his own sip on the hell win with a brooding expression.

"Damn, I suck at guessing." Ricky said, licking his lips and setting down the second empty bottle of hell wine before picking up his third.

"I want to ask if the other invading kingdoms killed him, but I'm guessing it's not that simple." Ricky was about to say, only to double back on himself, realizing that two double negatives meant a positive.

"Unfortunately, no. If things couldn't get any more dire, a Nethergod invaded Earth." Morgana said, her words causing Ricky to stop drinking and look back at her.

"But I thought the Starlight Citadel—"

"The Starlight Citadel isn't what stops the Nether Gods and all those in other dimensions from invading Earth," Morgana interjected, her voice steady. 

"It merely stops those who leak out." Morgana words ensnared Ricky in yet another web of history, pulling him deeper into a truth he hadn't even considered.

"I swear to God, if it's the power of friendship keeping them at bay, I'm gonna lose my sh*t," Ricky said, fed up with all the make-believe nonsense and just wanting something simple, something straightforward for once.

"Hahahahaha~" Morgana suddenly burst out laughing at Ricky's joke, genuinely finding it hilarious as she wiped her eyes.

"No, Ricky-hahahahaha~" Morgana tried to speak, but she couldn't stop laughing, her buzz amplifying the humor of the lukewarm joke as she doubled over with laughter.

Ricky, feeling the buzz kicking in, poured himself a generous helping from his third, well, technically fourth, bottle of wine. 

Morgana wiped her eyes, the tears forming from laughter still fresh as she composed herself.

"When all the forces invaded, war erupted, changing England forever as every side clashed on a single battlefield. I remember looking up at the sky that day, standing beside my half-brother, Arthur." Morgana said, her gaze drifting upward as if lost in that memory, remembering the moment when she fought side by side with Arthur.

"It-"

Morgana's Narration:

It wasn't just two sides fighting, it was utter chaos, an eight-sided war where everyone fought for their own claim to victory.

But as the minutes bled into hours, and the hours stretched into days, only two figures truly stood out amidst the bloodshed was the Nether God known as Necromon and the supposed king, Arthur Pendragon. 

The rest of us, Merlyn, the knights, myself, we were drowning in battle, fending off endless armies. 

And yet, had I known, had I truly understood, I would have stopped him.

That day, Arthur was like a shining star. 

You couldn't look away from him; even if you wanted to, something about him held you spellbound. 

Even as I fought, my eyes would catch glimpses of him, drawn to his presence like a magnetic pull. 

Every movement, every gesture, seemed to command attention, and for a fleeting moment, I'd forget everything else, consumed by his aura.

But stars that shine the brightest, often burn the fastest.

And Arthur burned himself down to his very last drop, pushing Necromon back into the void, sealing him away, only for Mordred to drive a blade into his back.

No one ever tells you how stars die, only that they stop shining. 

But that day, the brightest star in Camelot was snuffed out and with it, everything fell apart. 

I think that's when Merlyn finally snapped, when he became the man he is today as Arthur had always been his weakness. 

He could never refuse him, never deny him and when Arthur died before all our eyes, before his eyes, nothing could stop him.

Nothing could stop his wrath.

And I-.....I underestimated his wrath. 

I was foolish enough to believe I could take control without any proper preparations, that I could claim power amidst the chaos. 

I started a civil war within the city, and Sir Percival tried to stop me, until Mordred killed him. 

But I thought, if I could just get my hands on the Ebony Blade, I could stand against Merlyn. 

Of course, like every time before, I was wrong. 

The first thing he did when he entered that throne room was rip Mordred to pieces.

I-…I couldn't even stop him. 

I remember how desperately I tried to hold him back, but he tore through my spells with ease, unraveling them into nothing. 

Mordred twisted before my eyes, morphing into a grotesque monster as I stood powerless. 

Even as Arthur took his dying breath from Mordred's hands, he forgave him.

But Merlyn tortured him into an existence that shattered his mind. 

I couldn't stop him, I couldn't stop his wrath, I couldn't stop his power, I couldn't stop not when he laid waste to Gorre, I couldn't stop when he set the innocent aflame. 

I failed Arthur. 

I failed everyone. 

Over and over, I watched as his cruelty grew, his brutality more feral, until there was no one left to challenge him. 

And in the end, he silenced every last obstacle in his way, with no mercy, no hesitation. 

I think, deep down, I was both jealous and disgusted by the truth, the real reason I had been allowed to survive, time and time again. 

It wasn't because I could, it was because they let me, that Arthur let me. 

But now, with him gone, Merlyn had taken control.

First, he created the barrier, a master spell held in place by the Sorcerer Supreme, one that strengthened the boundaries between Earth and other dimensions, preventing any outside force from invading again. 

Then, he hunted down every single person who had wronged Arthur and turned them into monsters.

"And finally, he locked me away in this castle and burned them all. And made me listen through seven days and seven nights." Morgana finished, her drunken confession leaving her all but shattered under the flow of her own truth.

"Aye, you don't have to talk about it if it's too much to swallow." Ricky said, suddenly stopping her from continuing as he watched as Morgana immediately downed her glass of wine.

"I apologize for-"

"Nah, don't do that," Ricky said, suddenly stopping her, waving his hand as she looked up at him.

"Do what?" Morgana asked, staring back up at Ricky swirling the bottle of hell wine in his grasp.

"Do the thing where you apologize for literally doing nothing." Ricky revealed, knowing this back and forth all too well.

"But I got carried away and-"

"And my pops gets carried away when talking about the 1919 Chicago White Sox, but it's like I always tell him, 'It's in the past,'" Ricky said, rolling his eyes at the memories of Lucky freaking out whenever he brought it up.

"Is it now?" Morgana said, laughing and feeling a little better as Ricky shook his head.

"Of course not, I still hear BS about how Shoeless Joe would have wiped the league with his cum sock if he still played today." Ricky scoffed, knowing that the old man will literally never let it go.

"Then why do you say it's in the past?" Morgana asked, wondering why he would claim something was over when it never truly is.

"Because sh*t like that doesn't go away, it sticks with you." Ricky said, his gaze meeting Morgana's as she slowly lowered her eyes.

"It's just that it doesn't mean he won't move on if I keep saying it." Ricky revealed, knowing it might be pointless but that didn't he'd ever stop.

"What?"

"Well, one day my pops has gotta let it go, and although I wanna say he's a lost cause, I just can't give up on him like that." Ricky said, shrugging since it sounded stupid but if someone had to be the voice of reason, then he could probably be that if he just kept saying it.

"Really?"

"Yeah, the guy still rants about it whenever he gets drunk on whiskey. One of these days, he's either gonna let it go, the world's gonna run out of whiskey, or I'll just sit here by the side constantly assuring him that it's in the past." Ricky shrugged, taking a sip of the hell wine as Morgana looked back at her wine.

"Does it bother you, having to constantly assure him?" Morgana asked, watching Ricky as he was about to take a sip, but instead, he laughed.

"Nah, I already know he's over it." Ricky chuckled, knowing full well his pops had already moved on. It surprised Morgana, who hadn't expected that answer.

"If it's over and you know it, he knows it, then why-"

"Cause he's torturing himself, making sure to remind himself to never bet on the White Sox again." Ricky said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, the wine swirling down his throat.

"Ah~" Ricky let out a refreshed sigh, his words leaving Morgana speechless as she suddenly turned to him.

"I don't know, I think he knows it's over, but he just reminds himself because he knows that if he lets go, then he has to let go of the ten grand he lost all those years ago." Ricky rubbed his nose, swirling the last drop of the hell wine in his glass before tossing the remainder back.

He reached for the last bottle, already feeling the buzz settling in, knowing he was about to get completely drunk off his ass in a couple moments.

"Y'know, now that I think about it, he's a real money grubber." Ricky muttered, the buzz of the wine settling in as he shrugged his shoulders, feeling the weight of the alcohol begin to take over.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have such an interesting way with words?" Morgana asked, her smile thoughtful as she regarded him, her gaze lingering for a moment longer than usual.

"Depends on if it's in a good or bad way," Ricky said, a half-smirk tugging at his lips as his words caused Morgana to laugh, the sound light and genuine as she tilted her head, eyes glimmering with amusement.

"A good way Ricky, a really good way."

4 hours later after the author also got drunk to really add authenticity,

"And then, I smashed his face into the table!" Ricky laughed, drunk off his ass with Morgana not sitting across from him, but to the side.

"Hahahahahaha!" Morgana's regal demeanor completely wasted away with the hell wine, her childish side sprouting as she actually laughed at that piss poor joke of Ricky's.

When she leaned down to hold her stomach, Ricky's five hell wine bottle deep eyes saw two vertical scars tracing down her back, rubbing his eyes as if he was seeing double only to confirm there were really two.

"What's-"

BURP

"What's that?" Ricky slurred, poking at her back as Morgana jerked her head up.

"What's what?" Morgana also slurred, reaching behind her back to get it before her finger tips grazed her scar.

HICCUP

"Oh, that." Morgana hiccuped, smacking her lips together as if to prevent them from getting dry.

"That wicked bastard ripped off my wings," Morgana drunkenly said, reaching for her wine glass as she had already gone through five bottles of hell wine, while Ricky had downed four of his own.

It was safe to say Ricky was completely smashed, but Morgana was only slightly tipsy but still, the fact that she was letting her guard down like this, talking so openly, said a lot.

"No way~" Ricky said, baffled beyond belief but Morgana immediately assumed wrong.

"You had wings?" Ricky said, laughing as if she were joking only to see her completely serious.

"Wait, you have wings-"

HICCUP

"Wait, which wings are you referring to? My fairy wings or the chicken wings you Americans have?" Morgana asked, watching Ricky, who was about to respond, only to freeze with his hand on his forehead.

"Oh my god, I can't remember," Ricky muttered, his words slurring as the alcohol took its toll.

9 minutes later and four beers deep,

"No, NO!" Ricky laughed, standing up while shaking his head at Morgana's absurd statement.

"Why would I make up such an absurd statement-"

"Because that's crazy, no one, NO ONE, says barbecue wings are better than lemon pepper wings. Nobody-"

"I say that-"

"Well, you're wrong." Ricky scoffed, wobbling to the side as Morgana rose to her feet, meeting him with an almost amused glare.

"I have never been wrong about anything in my life-"

"Until now, you're wrong." Ricky shook his head, unable to concede on this simple fact as Morgana scoffed at this outlandish statement.

"Such a childish way of-YOUR WRONG!" Morgana was about to take the high ground until her childish side burst forward, yelling at Ricky, who laughed uncontrollably at her fiery retaliation.

"I ain't wrong-"

"YES YOU ARE, BARBECUE WINGS ARE BETTER BECAUSE THE RICH SMOKY FLAVOR MIXED WITH THE SWEET SAVORY BARBECUE FLAVOR IS WAY BETTER THAN STUPID SPICES SLATHERED ON A CHICKEN WING!" Morgana stomped on the ground, her face flushed with passion, clearly unwilling to concede. Ricky's jaw dropped in disbelief.

"You did not, YOU DID NOT JUST F*CKING SAY THAT LEMON PEPPER WINGS ARE SIMPLY SPICES SLATHERED ON A WING!" Ricky yelled, his eyes wide with disbelief as he staggered back, hands thrown up in the air in dramatic shock.

"HOW IS IT STUPID TO COAT CHICKEN WINGS WITH A MIXTURE OF OLIVE OIL, LEMON ZEST, SALT, AND BLACK PEPPER, THEN FRY THEM UNTIL THEY'RE COOKED THROUGH AND CRISPY!" Ricky yelled, his passion for lemon pepper wings clearly showing as he gestured wildly, catching Morgana completely off guard.

"Wha-" Morgana could barely respond as Ricky slowly stepped forward, his intense gaze sizing her up, looking down at her.

"Chicken wings, separated into drums and flats," Ricky began, his voice smooth, almost hypnotic. 

"Two tablespoons of olive oil and lemon pepper, the perfect combination of lemon zest, salt, and black pepper, with optional seasonings: a teaspoon of salt, one teaspoon chili powder, garlic powder, onion powder, and a quarter teaspoon of black pepper." Ricky's words rolled off his tongue sensually, each syllable hanging in the air, making it feel as though the room itself had become charged, the temperature rising between them. 

Morgana was left speechless, caught off guard by the intensity of the moment.

It was strange, almost surreal, but the liquid courage had somehow propelled them into an unexpected connection, one bound by an unlikely love for chicken wings. 

Neither of them expected this, this weird, almost absurd bond over something so simple.

And yet, as they exchanged playful banter about sauces and seasonings, the air between them thickened with a strange tension. 

The intensity in their voices, the shared enthusiasm, it wasn't just about food anymore. 

They were getting caught up in something much more charged, something more intimate. 

Both of them were slowly realizing, with a mix of surprise and something else, that this odd connection had sparked a heat neither had anticipated.

"You think that's good enough, huh?" Morgana asked, grabbing his collar and yanking him closer to her face as he laughed right before her eyes.

"I f*cking know it is-"

Ricky didn't even have a chance to finish his sentence before Morgana suddenly pressed her lips onto his. 

The kiss was intense, unexpected, and charged with the strange energy that had been building up between them. 

It was as if all the playful banter, the tension, and the shared laughs had culminated into this one impulsive, heated moment.

For a split second, Ricky was caught off guard, but then he kissed her back, the urgency and electricity between them escalating as everything around them faded. 

The heat of the moment, the wine, and the shared madness over something as simple as wings had brought them to this unexpected crossing of lines.

The world outside of their small bubble ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the tangled mess of desire and emotions that had suddenly ignited between them.

Their hands slowly traced each other's backs, a frenzied, tangled dance as they fiercely gripped one another, their bodies pressed together in the heat of the moment. 

Breaths came ragged and shallow against each other's tongues that clashed fiercely, each of them determined to hold their ground, not letting the other take control. 

The intensity of their struggle spiraled out of control, a whirlwind of passion that seemingly sucked everything around them into their self-made disaster of an entanglement.

CRASH

BAM

Their bodies collided with tables, bookshelves, the floor littered with shattered vases and debris and yet, through the wreckage, neither one would yield. 

Each refused to break, their will locked in a brutal tug-of-war, unwilling to surrender to the other.

"Do you even know who I am?" Morgana broke the kiss, her voice low and seductive as she whispered into his ear. 

Her fingers threaded through his slicked-back hair, pulling his head back as a soft to allow her more control as a teasing chuckle escaped his lips while looking up toward the ceiling.

"I'm-MEEEEEEP!" Morgana first started out her sensual whisper only to squeal. 

Her words cut short as Ricky, in one swift motion, lifted her by the thighs, causing her to sound like some sort of muppet before she was thrown onto the bed.

"Did-...did you just say 'Meep'?" Ricky laughed, looking upon the drunken and blushing Morgana who hid it under her regal form.

"What of it-"

HICCUP

"What of it? Your brutish strength surprised me," Morgana hiccuped, her gaze unfocused as she looked up at Ricky, her eyes hazy and half-lidded from the alcohol.

HICCUP

"Now, pull down your pants and let me see if you're full of them~" Morgana teased, her laughter light but laced with something darker as she dragged her bare foot along the bulge in his pants.

"Oh, sh*'s gonna be full alright." Ricky drunkenly shot back, a smirk tugging at his lips as his fingers worked on his belt. 

His eyes never left Morgana, the tension between them thick as he slowly unzipped his pants.

"If anything-" Morgana was about to drunkenly retort to his smirk, her voice slurring slightly, but her words faltered as the sudden sight of his cock flopping out of his pants. 

Her eyes widened for a moment, the fog of alcohol clearing just enough for her to catch her breath.

However, before she could even attempt to compose herself, Ricky's hand brushed against her skin, sending a shiver through her. His smile widened, a knowing glint in his eyes.

'Wet to the touch-' Ricky muttered, activating his skill, but before he could even finish, Morgana's body flushed, her breath catching in her throat at her insides lubricating just at his mere touch.

"Mmmmmmh~" Morgana bit her lip, trying to fight the urge to give in, determined not to let Ricky hear the soft moan that threatened to escape her.

Trembling, her body quaked ever so slightly as the effects of his skill reverberated through her, a soft shiver running down her spine as his hand continued to slide down her leg.

Even as her body betrayed her, succumbing to his touch, her eyes remained sharp, deadly and unwavering. 

She refused to bend, her gaze fixed with an unspoken challenge, as she clenched her teeth, fighting back the moans that threatened to escape. 

She bit down fiercely, unwilling to give him the satisfaction, though the strain was evident in her jaw.

"Your body is even better than my memory of it," Ricky said, slowly hovering over her as she made fierce eye contact with him, all while he leisurely started playing with her body, his hand slowly trekking up her leg, taking his sweet time.

"Man, I just remember how torturous it was to dream of you every f*cking night and all I could ever do was look." Ricky muttered in frustration, his wine riddled breath steaming against her skin as he leaned down.

"But now, all I'm gonna do is touch." Ricky finished, biting her earlobe as his hand slid up, slowly making its way to her most prized possession. 

His fingers gently traced the thin material covering her folds, teasing the delicate fabric as he began to move, savoring every inch.

His thumb pressed down, finding the sensitive spot most men could only dream of discovering, the clit. 

His pointer and index fingers slowly traced the delicate folds, each movement calculated, while his middle finger caressed the covered seam, gently exploring the crevice that promised untold pleasure.

"Y-You heathen~" Morgana hissed, her eyes rolling back to the bed frame as she tried to punch him. 

Before she could, his hand shot out, gripping her tiny wrists and pinning them above her head as her hair cascaded behind her, flowing upward like a red carpet.

"I know, I'm the worst~" Ricky laughed, reveling in the moment, feeling a sense of satisfaction no one else could understand as he had wanted to know this body more than anyone.

Though he had experienced it once before, puberty had been hell the second time since hge would literally get hard just from staring at a sign for too long. 

It only got worse when his dreams of Morgana in that throne room became a perfect scenario to vent his pent-up frustrations. 

But the reality was far crueler: he could never touch her.

It was torture, pure and unrelenting torture but now, it was different. 

It was as though fate had gifted him this moment, wrapped in a neat bow, and he wasn't going to rip it open. 

No, he was going to undo every layer, savoring the gift before truly receiving it.

His breath lowered, ghosting across her skin, leaving a trail of heat as it caressed her most sensitive areas. 

His hand followed, gently tracing the curve of her body before moving to her most intimate place, each touch purposeful and slow, building the tension between them.

He wanted to stir the pot, to push the boundaries, to see just how far he could go before everything boiled over.

Ricky's fingers slowly seeped into her crease hidden between her folds all while his breath trailing down toward her chest. 

At the same time, he used his teeth to slowly tug at the delicate tassels holding her breasts beneath the thin fabric, each knot loosening with a deliberate pull. 

Morgana watched, her breath coming in shallow, almost desperate gasps, unable to pry her gaze away from his eyes that locked onto hers.

Pulling his head upward, the tassel clenched between his teeth, the final binding of her corset-like dress loosened. 

With a soft, deliberate release, her full, round breasts burst free. 

No longer constrained, they expanded, becoming the mountains they truly were, swaying outward with a gentle droop beneath their weight.

"If it's too much, you can always tell me to stop," Ricky said, his voice low, using her pride against her as the hesitation in her mind disappeared, replaced by the clear sting of her weakness.

"Do-mmmmmmh~" Morgana tried to respond, but the words faltered as Ricky slid his middle finger deeper into her tight, wet crease before she eventually opened her green eyes, locking gaze with him.

"Do your worst~"

It felt almost like a declaration of war, as Ricky tore off her tight, black dress, revealing the stunning body he had long ogled in his mind but what stood before him was beyond anything he could imagine.

Smooth, that was the first word that came to mind, as not a single trace of hair marred her flawless, fair skin.

For all the wickedness that surrounded Morgana, her body held a vibrant, lifelike hue and instead of pale white, her skin carried a soft pinkish glow, making her seem ripe for the picking.

Her breasts, as large as the mountains separating Gorre from Camelot, stood proudly, their two pink peaks pointing directly into the sky. 

Ricky's gaze then shifted downward, focusing on the crown jewel below. 

Contrary to her ample, busty form, what lay at her waist were two small lips, pressed together so tightly it resembled the delicate curve of a peach.

Everything that befitted a queen was embodied within Morgana's form, a beauty so intoxicating it would drive any man mad, Ricky included.

"Wait~" Morgana tried to command, but the words escaped her in a soft, breathy murmur as she watched Ricky trail kisses down her beautiful skin, each one leading to her soaking wet core.

"Wait-Mmmmmmmmmmh~" Morgana tried to command, but her eyes widened, her breath hitched, and her moan was stifled as she bit down on her lips. 

Her hands reached out instinctively, grabbing at the disturbance of Ricky's tongue, which had slid between her pressed lips, seeking to taste the divine.

Suddenly, Morgana's hands gripped his oily black hair, pulling it tightly as her body shuddered, feeling his tongue explore the depths of her wet, eager cave.

Everything buzzed in Ricky's ears, the dull ringing of his drunkenness clouding his senses. 

Sloppy, closing his eyes, the world fading away as he surrendered to the intoxicating taste of Morgana. 

Each brush of her slick, warm folds, his numbed tongue tasting the faint hint of metal on his palate, adding a uniqueness to the flavor. 

He felt every subtle shift of her body, his tongue moving with her, as though he were riding a wave instead of crashing into it. 

It pulled him deeper into the moment as he wasn't thinking anymore, only doing, completely consumed by the sensation of her, as if everything else had ceased to exist.

It was as if Ricky were painting on a rocking boat, his brush swaying with the rhythm of the movement, tracing each curve and edge with the momentum he had gained.

"Stop doing that, stop~" Morgana almost whined, her queenly demeanor slowly chipping away as his tongue chiseled away at her walls.

"Your-ha-.....haaaa~" Morgana tried to stifle her words, to quiet his efforts, but they fell on deaf ears as her moans slipped out.

Morgana was no stranger to pleasure; her fingers had often done the same work that Ricky's tongue now carried out. 

She had traced her walls, indulged in her own desires, but it was different when someone else took control. 

Even if every painting seemed the same, the way it was created would always be different.

And every work of art leaves someone breathless the first time they gaze upon it.

"Ah~" Morgana finally let out a full moan, the sound escaping her despite all her efforts to hold it back.

It felt involuntary, instinctive, something even a queen couldn't control, a raw, natural impulse.

Her naked body writhed under the caress of Ricky's tongue, the slimy pleasure radiating from every touch. 

His fingers dug into her thighs as they squeezed around his head, while Morgana gripped his hair tightly.

"God, oh god~" Morgana moaned drunkenly, looking down at the embarrassing action unfolding before her, before slamming her head against the bed in helpless surrender.

It was utterly frustrating for Morgana, the way it felt so good to be under Ricky's touch, his hold, and as the feeling blossomed within her, the pleasure only intensified.

Ricky's tongue wasn't aggressive, but powerful in its pursuit, swishing and swaying in rhythm with Morgana's body as the sound of her reluctant moans was like applause, echoing in the air.

"Ha-a-"

"A-A-A-A-"

"Mmmmmmmh-"

"Ah~" 

Morgana was so indecisive about how to express her pleasure, interrupting her own moans as if erasing them before redrawing and rephrasing her reactions in a cycle of overwhelming sensation.

A build-up began to form, and Morgana knew what it entailed but once it reached a certain point, she thought her body would explode, only to feel him delve deeper, as if controlling her very being, pushing her beyond her limits. 

The pent-up sensation surged, suffocating her in a sense of stillness that made her almost whimper.

"Ha-AHH~" Morgana's whimper escaped first, soft and cute, before a towering moan burst forth, accompanied by the trembling of her body.

Her body spasmed with the overwhelming surge of pleasure, erupting from deep within her core and flooding her senses with its tantalizing effects, before washing over its source, Ricky.

Huff

Huff

Huff

Morgana felt almost numb in the moment, her breath escaping in shallow gasps from her black-painted lips, as every part of her body tingled, except the one where Ricky's tongue had so thoroughly explored. 

Sweat began to bead on her smooth, beautiful skin, and just as it felt like she was reaching her peak, Ricky's figure slowly rose into her view, blocking her view of the ceiling.

Licking his lips, Ricky swept his disheveled hair back, the root cause of his satisfaction standing before him at the woman he was now staring down at

He grabbed her legs, guiding them to bend in response to his desire, pulling her closer as her back slid against the silk sheets. 

Only halting when her lips, already wet and drooling out small thin streams of her nectar, pressed against his already swollen, veiny cock.

Her lips, wet with anticipation, pressed against the tip of his erect, veiny cock.

Morgana lowered her hazy gaze to him, her eyes locked on the obscene sight that no queen should witness. 

Instantly, she turned away, her face flushed a maddening red as Ricky's drunken eyes lingering on not her expression, but her folds.

Curious, he gently tugged at one of her folds, pulling it to the side as if it were a curtain with his thumb to reveal the perfect pink hue that hinted at the depth of her desire.

Literally needing no other motivation, he immediately aligned himself with gates, saying a quick prayer before entering this holy site.

It was then that Ricky pushed forward slowly, letting out a soft laugh as he drew in a deep breath, his head tilting back.

"Fucking hell~" Ricky groaned, feeling the tightness embrace the tip of his cock, inching deeper with a slow, deliberate push.

It felt as though her insides were collapsing around his cock, enveloping him in an intense, warm sensation, soft yet heavy, pulling him deeper into the dizzying haze of pleasure.

"AHHHHH~" Morgana cried out, her hands reaching back, fingers clawing into the sheets like sharpened fangs sinking into flesh.

The soft, gushing sounds of her insides parting to make way for his cock filled the air, a wet, rhythmic squelch that slithered into their ears like thick, warm slop being stirred in slow motion.

Then, as if their bodies were perfectly aligned, the last inch of his cock slid into her, and everything seemed to merge as their bodies reacted to one another, instinctively.

As if clicking into place.

"HA~"

"Woah~"

Slowly, their breaths began to sync, each inhale and exhale adding to the growing tension between them. 

They sat there in stunned silence, both trying to process how perfectly they fit together, as if their bodies were always meant to align this way.

Ricky felt an irresistible pull, almost compelled to lose himself in the depths of the sensation, surrendering to Morgana as she opened her longing eyes, watching him descend toward her while hoping he would surround her in a feeling of security.

Then, as if two atoms had collided, they erupted into a fiery passion the moment their lips met.

It was different this time, their drunken haze wasn't set on merely battling one another but now delving into this numb feeling as if trying to understand it.

Their naked bodies writhed against each other, moving with a rhythm all their own as Ricky's hands slid down, guiding her legs to wrap around his waist, while her hands traveled to his back, her nails digging into his flesh, pulling him closer, urging him deeper.

Then, as if their lips were pulled away by an unseen force, their eyes slowly opened, meeting each other's gaze. 

For a brief moment, they stared, locked in silent understanding, before continuing.

But this time, instead of merely locking lips, their bodies surged into motion as Ricky's hips slowly pulled back, only to thrust forward again, their lips colliding once more in a round of fiery passion.

The faint echoes of moans escaped with each movement, their bodies pressing together, flesh against flesh, skin on skin. 

Nothing could stop the rhythm they'd fallen into, each movement pushing them closer, binding them in their growing passion.

It was as if fate itself couldn't pull them apart, their bodies colliding and rising together in a slow, undeniable rhythm.

His hips slowly pulled back, her tight folds clenching as if to hold him in, slick with her desire. 

The sensation of her longing engulfed him, making his cock slick as he propelled himself back inside.

They locked into place once more, both of them gasping as they drove deeper, bodies instinctively connecting with each thrust, their breaths hitching in unison.

The bed sheets contorted beneath their movements, caught in the rhythm of their dance, swirling through the room filled with the sounds of pleasure. 

They moved together, repeating the same motions, each one building on the last, until it culminated in something intense and unforgettable.

The same process repeated, pulling away from her clutches as a slow drip of moisture slipped from her folds, the wetness releasing him before he slowly pushed back inside.

It was boring, completely the same with no change in their movements yet their hearts pounded in their chests with every iteration. 

That same steady routine sent waves of electricity through their bodies, leaving them defenseless against each other, sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss of overwhelming pleasure.

It was as if they couldn't exist without one another, as if Ricky needed this connection with her, to be right next to her.

His hand slowly traced along her exposed body, his hips moving with emphasis, each thrust deepening the bond between them. 

His cock stirred her insides, creating a concoction of pleasure that had ensnared them both, pulling them deeper into each other.

Then, his hand found hers, gently prying it from the flesh of his back and pinning it down against the bed.

He wrapped his fingers around hers, anchoring her to the mattress beneath them as he drove his hips forward, his cock plunging deeper into her. 

She seemingly squeezed back, holding him tightly, pulling him further into the depths of their connection.

"Why~" Morgana moaned, her eyes slowly opening, revealing a gaze filled with loneliness, a deep, aching void that Ricky was slowly filling with his presence.

"Why you?" Morgana asked, her voice trembling as she looked up at him, her body responding to his movements, the question spilling from her lips in a haze of intoxication.

"Does it matter?" Ricky murmured, pressing his forehead against Morgana's. 

No one in the world could have guessed how perfectly they fit together, how their bodies, their very beings, locked into place. 

And maybe he was right, maybe it didn't need some deeper meaning, and maybe some things worked out the way it was supposed to from the very start.

"No~" Morgana almost laughed, her eyes watering at how stupidly simple he always made things out to be, but for some reason, her heart beat like a drum to this side of him.

"It doesn't matter." Morgana cupped his cheek, her touch soft yet certain as she gazed at him as Ricky bit her lower lip before capturing her mouth in another kiss.

This time, it was different. 

His hips still melted into hers, their flesh still ground together in a fevered rhythm, but something had shifted and it was that single moment of acceptance. 

For once, Morgana's walls crumbled, yielding to the relentless force of Ricky's pace and this time, she didn't fight it.

Their grips tightened around one another, their bodies shifting in a sloppier yet more urgent pace.

Both of them quickened their movements, neither willing nor able to stop, as if their collision was inevitable.

Then it was as if his rhythm melted as the heat between them became molten as his thrusts grew wild, his cock plunging in and out of Morgana's drenched heat, each withdrawal leaving her juices clinging to his shaft before he drove himself back in with a wet, obscene squelch. 

Their bodies no longer just ground together; they slammed, slapped, and smeared against one another, their sweat mixing as Morgana's walls clenched around him, desperate and greedy, milking every inch he gave her. 

The room filled with the mess of their union, ragged breaths, needy moans, and the wet, sloppy symphony of flesh meeting flesh in untamed, reckless abandon.

Slap

Slap

Slap

His hips crashed against her waist, each thrust plunging his cock deeper into mushy insides that clenched deeply as if it were involuntary. 

Their bodies trembled, locked in a desperate, fevered pace, reaching their fevered pitch yet neither of them spoke, no words could capture the raw, unrelenting need driving them closer, tighter, as if they could melt into one.

However, all it took was one action to fully encapsulate the perfect culmination of what their bodies had been trying to say, trying to scream out with their fevered movements, their clashing hips, and the sheer, unrelenting intensity of their union.

Bam

Their bodies collided with a violent, desperate crash, the heat of Ricky's skin burning through the thin barrier between them. 

The veins in his neck bulged, straining under the pressure as he gripped Morgana harder, their breath coming in ragged gasps within their own hot breathes that swirled around each other in their locked hold of their lips. 

Morgana's body trembled uncontrollably, muscles tightening as the overwhelming force of their union sent shockwaves of pleasure spiraling through them. 

They both lost themselves, teetering on the edge of madness as their release came crashing down in a wild, frenzied explosion, each of them falling apart in the swell of burning ecstasy.

His cock throbbed, balls tightening as a fierce surge of cum erupted, flooding deep inside her.

The sensation was a brutal release, a wave of heat that swirled through her, flooding her senses in his white, thick cum. 

Morgana's body trembled violently, her nerve endings being forced to squeeze out every drop of a reaction as she was overwhelmed by the tidal wave of pleasure that burst through her. 

Her pussy clenched, each contraction a deep, relentless pulse, pulling every ounce of pleasure from the depths of her climax as she melted into him, unable to escape the consuming force.

It felt as though her pussy eagerly swallowed every pulse of his cum, his throbbing tip releasing a final, intense sputter as she took it all, her body trembling with satisfaction as she absorbed every drop into her womb that sprouted at his fertilization.

"What the fuck was that?" Ricky gasped, his breaths sharp and uneven as he finally broke away from her lips, collapsing his head into the hollow of her neck, feeling her stil trembling from the force of it all.

"I-I don't know." Morgana stammered, her voice breathless, unable to form a coherent thought as her wide eyes stared up, lost in the moment.

Their hands remained gently locked, fingers clutching each other as if they were hanging on for dear life. 

Slowly, they turned their gazes back to one another, the unspoken connection lingering in the air. 

Ricky's lips brushed against her neck, tender but insistent, sending shivers down her spine as his kisses trailed along her skin.

"Ha~" Morgana moaned, her hand slowly tracing up his back and gripping down onto the back of his head.

Lost in a haze, Ricky selfishly focused on his own desire, his hand sliding over her smooth skin, finally grabbing and squeezing the soft, yielding flesh of her right breast, the pressure sending waves of heat through both of them.

Honestly, Ricky was practically simmering in the afterglow, his mind drifting as he let the warmth of his release envelop him, tuning everything else out. 

But as he began to settle into the comfort of that haze, his body stirred again, instinctively drawing Morgana's with him, he would suddenly pull back.

It was as if Ricky was unknowingly pushing Morgana toward the edge, each subtle movement stirring her deeper, only to pull back at the last moment, his focus shifting elsewhere, leaving her teetering between anticipation and the ache for more.

That childish side of hers, which had been dissuaded from the simmering heat of her climax, began to rise up, poking at her subconscious, a subtle yet insistent urge to push past it.

"Are you going to-....you know~" Morgana whispered in Ricky's ear, her voice laced with frustration, the tension in her body palpable. 

Unlike Ricky, who was teetering on the edge of his drunken stupor and fatigue, her words seemed to cut through his haze. 

His ear twitched in response, a subtle sign that her impatience hadn't gone unnoticed as his smile raised with it.

"What was that?" Ricky asked, trying to keep his tone steady, but the teasing edge slipped through despite his best efforts.

"Are you-.....going to continue?" Morgana asked, her irritation flickering in her eyes, but it quickly vanished as Ricky's charming gaze locked onto hers.

It was as if the alcohol had completely stripped Morgana of her resistance, making her incredibly susceptible to his every move. 

The first shift in their connection left her almost pliable, like putty in his hands, as the force of their bodies intertwined.

"Continue what?" Ricky laughed, his face settling between her breasts, a satisfied grin on his lips as if content with how things were unfolding.

 But Morgana's face continued to flush, her lips painted in black trying to part as she breathed out a quiet sigh, only to press them together once again. 

She wanted to feel it, crave that fulfilling sensation once more, the pull of it deep inside her.

"Continue making love to me~," Morgana whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of frustration and yearning, her body pressing closer to his, silently pleading for more, for that connection to deepen.

If Ricky had been soft, those words whispered in his ear reignited something primal within him, causing him to immediately pull her body back against his.

Caught off guard, a rush of adrenaline surged through Morgana as her eyes widened, her body suddenly thrust into an upright position. 

She found herself straddling Ricky, impaled on him, and he held her firmly, like a flag on display.

His face buried between the mounds of her breasts as if unwilling to let go and compromising like this.

"You're like a baby~" Morgana slurred with a playful chuckle, her gaze softening as she looked down at his face buried against her chest. 

But just as she was about to wrap both arms around his neck, her hand paused mid-air, a sudden memory flickering through her mind.

How it had felt, Ricky's hand clasped so deeply in hers, that shared connection from the very beginning. 

As she gazed at their entwined hands, an involuntary smile tugged at her lips.

In that quiet moment, she rested her head on top of Ricky's, her cheek pressing against his hair. 

With a soft kiss, she stroked the back of his head, her free hand caressing him gently as a sense of tenderness washed over her.

Closing her eyes, Morgana's breath hitched as she slowly lifted her hips, a soft twitch of her lips betraying the sensation. 

But she didn't hesitate for long, gently easing herself back down onto him, the movement slow and deliberate as the connection between them deepened.

"Ha~" Morgana let out a deep breath, hearing her slick folds envelop his cock with a slimy pulse ringing throughout her ears.

The hellwine had fully soaked into Ricky's system by now, its effects nearly incapacitating him.

His body felt heavy, drunk on the intoxicating combination of alcohol and Morgana's touch. 

Every movement was sluggish, his mind hazy as he clung to her, the weight of his own body a distant memory.

Morgana's body slid relentlessly against him, slow at first, but then growing more erratic as she moved up and down. 

His cock pulsed, wet and throbbing, trapped between her slippery motions, and he could hardly keep himself upright. 

His hands gripped her desperately, the alcohol spinning his thoughts into a blur. 

Every sensation felt like it was crashing into him all at once, the only thing grounding him being the steady rise and fall of Morgana's body. 

She mounted him slowly, her ass pressing upwards, her two cheeks giving a faint jiggle before she brought it downwards in a heavy motion.

Clap

Squelch

Slamming herself down onto him with a wet, slippery friction that numbed his ears.

Every drop of their skin meeting sent a shock of pleasure through him, the sensation all-consuming. 

"AH~" 

And everytime, as if it were on queue, Morgana would seep out a sultry moan from her black painted lips.

They held each other so tight, their bodies locked in an almost desperate embrace, humping together with a frantic, clumsy rhythm as they tried to figure out the perfect combination of movements. 

Every slam of her hips sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body, rippling out pleasure through her insides that trembled around his cock that twitched with each hard, slick movement.

The wet, sloshing sounds filled the room, drowning out everything but the rush of sensation coursing through them both. 

It was as if they were both drowning in the overwhelming heat of their naked bodies, the world shrinking to nothing but the space between them. 

Every touch, every brush of skin felt magnified, as if their bodies were the only things that mattered. 

The weight of their desperate movements, the slick glide of their connection, consumed them both entirely, until nothing else existed outside of their touch.

Her ass bobbed atop his cock, over and over again, each motion steady but almost dull, lacking in subtlety.

Yet, with every repeated motion, jolts of pleasure surged through both of them, each shift of her body sending waves of heat crashing into his senses. 

They adjusted their stances, finding their place within one another until they slowly morphed into a perfect sync as they neared the edge of their own release. 

The sounds of their flesh meeting, wet, desperate, and it all blended into a sensual symphony of their bodies slapping, grinding, and morphing into one another.

"You can't ever leave me~" Morgana whispered softly into his ear, the words slipping past Ricky's drunken haze without him fully registering. 

Her possessive green eyes glinted with a dark intensity, catching the reflection of his lost expression.

"Never, you can never escape me~" she murmured again, her voice sweet but edged with a dangerous desperation. 

Her childish side, unable to bear the thought of sharing him with anyone, clung to him fiercely.

She wanted him close, wrapped up in her arms, and she vowed silently that he would be hers forever, no one else's.

"I won't ever let you go, never~" Morgana reiterated, her voice dripping with a possessiveness that echoed deep within her chest. 

She vowed in her heart to never let this man escape her clutches, her grip on him tightening with every passing second. 

Her words seemed to carve themselves into his subconscious, repeating over and over in time with the movement of her hips, as if she was branding him, marking him as hers. 

With every slow, deliberate thrust, she whispered her vow again, her breath hot and urgent against his ear, her body moving like an unrelenting force that would never let him slip away.

No one could ever truly understand the depth of Morgana's loneliness, the ache that had gnawed at her for centuries. If only she had adjusted properly to her freedom, perhaps things could have been different. 

But the reason her difficulty was medium was simple: she hadn't touched another man in ages. 

When she finally did, it was Ricky, and from that moment, she became ensnared, caught in his grip as much as he was in hers.

Yet, Morgana wasn't the type to simply indulge in fleeting pleasure. 

No, she would drag this into the abyss, if necessary, ensuring no one else could ever claim what was hers. 

She'd bind him to her with every ounce of her being, pulling him deeper into her world, until they were both lost in it, together, and forever.

"Our children will rule the world~"

CLAP

Morgana slammed her hips down, impaling herself on his throbbing cock, her womb flooded with a scorching heat that made her body tremble with overwhelming pleasure.

The intensity of the position snapped her fully awake, arching her back, her head tilted toward the sky, a dark chuckle escaped her lips as she licked them, feeling every inch of her body pulse and respond to his touch.

Ricky slammed into her one final time, his body stiffening as he spilled inside her, the heat of his release mixing with the slickness between them. 

His head dropped, heavy and unresponsive, his breath shallow as the world seemed to slip away from him, falling into a drunken unconsciousness.

Morgana, however, remained grounded. 

She lowered her gaze to his limp form, her fingers gently trailing the back of his head as she caressed him, her touch almost tender despite the mess they'd made. 

With a slow, satisfied smile, she pressed a kiss to the top of his head, soothing him into a deep, peaceful sleep.

"I'm not like those other bimbo's Ricky, I'm a queen~" Morgana whispered, her voice smooth and husky as she pressed her forehead softly to the top of his head.

A satisfied smirk played on her lips as she leaned back, her eyes darkening with a mix of desire and command. 

"And you've shown me I'm ready for another." Morgana purred, her voice low and throaty.

She watched as they both collapsed onto the bed, her gaze never leaving his sleeping form. 

Her chest heaved, still flush from their wild, messy encounter, but her mind was already plotting, already wanting more.

"You've shown my I'm ready for a king~"

DING

Meanwhile at the Starlight Citadel,

"There all dead~"

Kitty's voice crackled through the intercommunication device, trembling with grief. 

Her words reverberated all throughout the control room, hanging in the air with thick miasma of sorrow as she sobbed uncontrollably, holding Kurt's disfigured, lifeless body in her arms.

The scene unfolded in its entirety, the battle, the devastation, playing out before them as Saturnyne stood motionless, her gaze fixed, silently observing from the sidelines.

At the forefront stood Lady Roma, bearing the weight of not only Saturnyne's scrutiny but the countless gazes pressing down upon her. 

Not just from those present in the room, but from the silent judgment of the moment itself.

Her head hung low, strands of hair veiling her expression as the haunting images of Ricky utterly dismantling Team Excalibur swirled around her.

And through it all, her grief, her silence, Merlyn sat at his desk, a quiet, satisfied smile playing on his lips.

He watched through the orb, a one-way monitoring device, as his plan clicked together, piece by piece. 

Every moment unfolded exactly as he had anticipated, each step falling seamlessly into place.

Merlyn had deliberately withheld the crucial detail of how he knew exactly where Ricky would be to purposely divide her teams.

By sending them on a wild goose chase, he ensured that only one team would be left to face Ricky directly since all the others would be at the other portals scattered around England.

It was a calculated maneuver, designed not only to strengthen Ricky but also to ignite the fires of defiance within Lady Roma, his daughter.

It was perfect, minimizing overall losses while maximizing her guilt and self-righteousness.

So as he sat in the shadows, plucking one string after another, he finally tuned in to his communication orb, its faint glow casting an eerie light on his face. 

The pieces were already in place. 

He could see it all unfolding in his mind asLady Roma would inevitably come to Camelot, leading her forces as they defended against the imminent onslaught that was Ricky. 

Every move, every tactic, had been orchestrated with precision, and this moment was no different. 

Merlyn's plan was almost complete, and it was only a matter of time before the chaos he had carefully constructed would come to a head.

"My dear."

The words echoed through the air, soft yet commanding, surrounding Lady Roma like an ominous shadow. 

She kept her head bowed low, her long black hair cascading over her face, as if it could shield her from the weight of her father's words.

"Did he-"

"Yes, father. He killed them all." Lady Roma's voice was hollow, tinged with sorrow and an undercurrent of something darker. 

The silence that followed was thick with the regret that came from this loss, but also with the looming sense of the chaos that Ricky had unleashed if left unchecked.

"My darling daughter, I am so sorry." Merlyn's tone carried the weight of sorrow, as if his heart ached not only for her but for the fallen souls.

All around Lady Roma, the others lowered their heads, closing their eyes in solemn acknowledgment, granting the dead a moment of silence.

"He's coming-....that Ricky Luciano." Merlyn hesitated mid-sentence, only to spit out his name with utter disdain, as if the very syllables left a foul taste in his mouth.

"And I think the problem with our approach is how we simply threw things at him one by one," Merlyn continued, guiding Lady Roma toward his inevitable conclusion. 

The others slowly nodded, their expressions shifting as his words took hold, the realization settling over them like an inescapable weight.

"What I need to do-" Merlyn paused deliberately, his voice measured, calculated and then, with a slow breath, he corrected himself. 

"What we need to do is unite."

The shift in his words was intentional, a carefully crafted moment meant to present the illusion of humility. 

He let the silence settle once more, allowing the weight of his supposed concession to sink in, as if lowering himself to the notion of joining forces was a sacrifice in itself, to allow for Lady Roma's subconscious pride to understand that it was okay to lower itself to this idea.

"What we need to do is join forces under the last stronghold of Camelot and stop this wicked fiend, this wicked man." Merlyn's voice swelled with passion, each word carrying the weight of urgency and righteousness. 

The room, once subdued by grief and silence, slowly stirred and one by one, heads lifted, eyes drawn to the figure of Merlyn as he clenched his fist, as if grasping at straws, as if holding onto the last hope they had.

The energy shifted, the despair turning into something else, something dangerously close to conviction.

"We are strong on our own, but mighty as one!" Merlyn's voice thundered through the chamber, reverberating with conviction. 

The others felt it, that small swell of pride, the embers of determination reigniting in their chests as their despair was being molded into resolve, their mourning into purpose.

But amidst the growing fervor, Lady Roma remained still. Her head hung low, her shoulders trembling. 

Droplets of silent grief fell from her chin, staining the table beneath her. For all of Merlyn's rousing words, the weight of failure still pressed upon her, heavier than any rallying cry could lift.

"Saturnyne, order all teams to withdraw into Camelot, immediately." Lady Roma's command cut through the charged air of her failure.

Unlike Merlyn, who viewed his soldiers as mere tools to be used and discarded, she valued each individual under her command. 

Their lives, their loyalty, were precious to her, and it pained her to know they might suffer because of her earlier decisions.

She didn't want them to pay the price for her lack of judgment, for the gaps in her strategy. 

But Merlyn, standing at the heart of his own machinations, couldn't help but smile. 

His gaze was one of cold satisfaction as he had anticipated this moment. 

His manipulations had pushed her to a breaking point, and now he knew that his influence was subtly guiding her toward the place by his side.

In the end, it was never about the victory, it was about control and he had it.

Or at least, he thought he did.

Even though Merlyn had carefully planned for so long for such events to unfold as he intended, sometimes, not all the pieces clicked together the way he wanted them to.

Because unlike her father, Lady Roma was naive.

She still believed in the possibility of goodness, in the idea that things could be undone, that redemption was possible through sheer will.

This idealism, this weakness, was something Merlyn had long ago abandoned. 

To him, the world was about power, control, and sacrifice. 

But Roma, despite her strength, still clung to notions of right and wrong, of loyalty and fairness.

And that made her unpredictable, a variable that only now Merlyn would take notice of.

"Saturnyne, take charge of the escort and evacuation while I buy time." Lady Roma words suddenly formed a slight crack in Merlny's smile and shock in the others.

"My dear-"

"Gather my personal guard, we shall buy time whilst everyone evacuates into Camelot!" Lady Roma said selflessly, throwing herself into the flames to allow her compatriots time to escape.

However, Ricky wasn't headed to the Starlight Citadel at all. 

In fact, he didn't care one bit about their organization, their purpose, or how they operated since Ricky only cared about one thing, kicking Merlyn's ass.

What Merlyn failed to account for was that by positioning Ricky as a threat to Otherworld, he had inadvertently propped him up in the mind of Lady Roma. 

Ricky wasn't trying to destroy the realm, nor did he care about the political schemes unfolding within. 

All he cared about was tearing down the one person who'd been a consistent force against him, Merlyn.

Yet, Merlyn's plan had an unexpected success in one regard as he knew that his daughter would never abandon her post unless it was for the greater good, and so he cleverly set the narrative in motion. 

By framing Ricky as a dire threat to their people, he knew it would force Lady Roma into a position where she would feel compelled to take responsibility and supposedly ensure the safety of her people by coming to his side.

While Ricky's only goal was to engage in battle with Merlyn, the provoked reaction now caused Lady Roma to play directly into the trap her father had set, putting herself in harm's way without even realizing it.

Originally, he had worded Ricky as if he was coming to the Starlight citadel, but in doing so, Merlyn hadn't accounted for one unforeseen variable, Lady Roma's unwavering sense of duty.

Lady Roma had been raised in the ideal image to stand by the side of Arthur, with the echoes of her father's influence subtly shaping her character. 

But Merlyn's love had blinded him to the fact that, in his effort to control and manipulate, he had unknowingly cultivated a hero in Lady Roma, one whose heart, full of devotion and sacrifice, would ultimately prove to be both her greatest strength and her greatest vulnerability.

And it was only now that Merlyn truly realized the depth of his mistake.

"No, you-"

"I'm sorry, father, but I must do this." Lady Roma's words were resolute, her conviction unwavering as she turned away. 

Her golden guards, her personal force separate from the rest of the teams, slowly appeared at the entrance, awaiting her command.

"ROMA-" Merlyn's voice broke with frustration, but before he could say another word, Lady Roma swiped her hand across the air, cutting the communication as she turned, walking down the hallway with determined steps.

"You're walking towards your death, you understand that, right?" Saturnyne's voice cut through the silence, her arms crossed as she spoke with a tone of both warning and concern.

Lady Roma paused, glancing back toward Saturnyne, her features softening as a heartfelt smile curved her lips.

"I know."

"But how can I ask others to die for a cause that I cannot die for myself?" Lady Roma's voice was steady, laced with the weight of leadership and sacrifice.

"Don't be an idiot, come to Camelot." Saturnyne's words were sharp, laced with a mix of frustration and care.

"I know it is foolish, but I must try." Lady Roma shook her head, her expression resolute. 

"Tell my father, I'm sorry."

BAM

BAM

Merlyn, in a fit of frustration, hurled his desk aside, the heavy thud echoing through the room as he stormed towards the swirling black artifact, a key piece in his carefully laid plan that was still in the process of being assembled. 

His mind raced as he realized he couldn't leave Camelot just yet, there was still more to be done.

Turning back to his desk, he scrambled toward the blackened orb, his fingers brushing over it as the tide of Chimera's forces slowly made their way toward the land of Gorre as the image flickered before his eyes.

"Yes, m-"

"Speed up your attack," Merlyn said, his voice sharp and filled with urgency as he knew the final steps needed to be taken quickly, but as long as he achieved the intended result, nothing else mattered.

"The Chimera horde will split, it w-"

"It doesn't matter, you were never supposed to win in the first place," Merlyn scowled, his eyes hardening with disdain as he cut off the orb as his gaze shifted to the other orb, which now displayed the image of his daughter leaving.

For all intents and purposes, Merlyn could have left right then and there to save her, his beloved daughter. 

But as he reached out toward the orb, something inside him stopped him as he slowly clenched his fist, the weight of his decision pressing down on him.

The thought of saving her, of abandoning his plan, felt foreign, almost impossible. 

He had always known the cost of this plan, but now, faced with the reality of his daughter's sacrifice, the bitter irony hit him. 

She had become the very thing he had never intended to create, as if history was repeating itself, a force that threatened to unravel everything he had built.

And yet, in that moment, Merlyn realized something he hadn't anticipated: the depth of his own blind spot.

"I suppose I should take a page from my foolish daughter's book." Merlyn muttered under his breath, his voice bitter.

"How can I ask others to sacrifice for a cause that I cannot sacrifice for myself?"

Author's Note: Ik what I said about posting earlier but I was just playing CK3 and watching Game of thrones, again.