38. Morgan: Aren't I the Perfect Match for Wine?

Artoria's journey to kingship accelerated. Anyone could see that she wanted to complete her tour as quickly as possible. With Morgan's help, she did indeed save one village after another, earning the praise of the local populace. "How great our King is—" "How excellent our King is—" The ballads echoed along the coast of Britain, yet no one noticed the emptiness in the young girl's eyes. Including Artoria herself.

"It's alright," a voice like a hypnotic suggestion whispered in her ear. "This is the kind of King the people need..." And all of this was seen by Morgan, who was not stingy with her own praise. "Artoria, you truly are the perfect choice for Caliburn. After we return, you will surely be able to properly inherit the throne." "Perhaps..." Artoria managed to squeeze out a smile.

And so, the journey unknowingly came to its end. When Camelot appeared before them, Morgan knew it was time to make her next move. The moonlight spilled into the royal court. As previously instructed, Ian arrived at the door to Morgan's room. He could still see the marks from the last time the door had been repaired. Looking at it, Ian knocked. "Big Sister Morgan, I'm here." This was not a form of address Ian would have used before. It was Morgan who had taught him. "Call me Princess in front of others, and Big Sister in private. As for the future, hmph... we'll see how you perform."

A reply soon came from within the room. "Right on time. Well then—come in." "Okay." Once again, he returned to the same room. But the Morgan who greeted him was completely different. Her voice was gentle, and she was dressed in light, airy clothing. Her impressive stores of nourishment were half-exposed by the deep V-neck of her top; if she moved just a little, it would likely fail to conceal anything at all. Her previous royal attire had been replaced with a short skirt, revealing her long, slender legs. Her fair skin was like polished jade, delicate and smooth.

This Morgan was now sitting on the edge of her bed. With one leg slightly raised, her fingers were twirling a lock of her hair. It was the perfect angle, allowing one to see some things, but not others. "..." Having never seen Morgan like this, Ian's breathing grew heavier. The flow of magical energy in the room seemed to quicken. The dragon's directness gave Morgan a sense of accomplishment. She knew she was beautiful on a normal day, but that didn't mean she couldn't become even more alluring.

"Are your eyes glued to me?" Morgan smiled faintly, then extended a leg towards him. Her toes wiggled slightly. "Would you like to try tonight? You're always welcome—my greedy little dragon." The princess's unbridled indulgence once again showed the boy the meaning of "bewitching." However... he still shook his head. "Big Sister Morgan, not yet."

"..." Morgan was not surprised by Ian's answer. After all, this boy was a beast; he didn't know how to hide his true feelings. If he really wanted to make a move, he probably would have that first time... Hmph. Is it still not enough? But no matter. He's merely a beast. I can definitely tame him.

"Alright then. I won't force you." Morgan retracted her leg and stood up. She walked to the table in the center of the room, where a bottle of wine with a cork stopper sat. "Come, have a drink with your sister." "What is that?" "Wine," Morgan introduced simply. "Oh, Artoria hasn't had a drink with you yet, has she? Then you simply must try it. However, for you, there should be a more... special way of drinking—" As she spoke, Morgan uncorked the bottle with a pop, tossing the cork aside. Instantly, a decadent, sweet aroma filled the room.

This was only the beginning. Under Ian's gaze, Morgan gently fiddled with the collar of her top. The stores of nourishment that the dragon so liked soon saw the light of day again. The princess of Britain smiled, lifted the wine bottle, and began to pour its contents over her neck. The liquid soon flowed everywhere, tracing a path over all the places it was meant to reach, finally staining Morgan's white clothes a pale red. But she didn't seem to mind, instead beckoning to Ian with a soft voice. "Come."

"Let your sister teach you how to drink wine—you'll definitely like it." "Hahh..." A sound escaped the boy's throat. In the next moment, the princess was pounced upon and pushed down onto the table. Facts don't lie. Morgan felt she had Ian completely figured out. As long as she could get his emotions slightly agitated, he would turn into his dragon form like this. His body and strength would be enhanced beyond imagination; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he was invulnerable. Just like now—Morgan felt she couldn't move at all. Her hands were pinned, her legs were basically immobilized. The only thing she could do was watch him feast before her, tearing and pulling with abandon, leaving teeth marks behind. Yet, amidst this beastly behavior, he could still maintain a sliver of reason, not going so far as to actually bite off and swallow what he saw as his nourishment. What happened in his past to make him maintain this exact boundary? Could it be Tiamat's education? Never mind, that's not the point. Watching Ian drink large mouthfuls of the wine from her body, Morgan gently blew out a hot breath. This perfectly calibrated ravaging was a rare kind of pleasure for her as well. Bounce— Taking advantage of a moment when Ian released her, Morgan asked softly, "Well? This way of drinking suits you, doesn't it? Aren't your sister and this wine a perfect match?"

"..." Ian nodded, then shook his head. This displeased Morgan. "What do you mean by that? Why nod and then shake your head—" "Nodding because this way of drinking is great," he explained. "Shaking my head because you and the wine aren't a perfect match. Sister—" Ian's eyes flashed with red light. "You're a thousand times more delicious than the wine."

"..." Morgan's smile widened. If her earlier words were seductive whispers, then this was an indulgent answer. This boy... he might unexpectedly know exactly how to devour a girl completely. Is this to be expected of Tiamat's son? As she thought this, Morgan completely failed to notice the necklace around her neck begin to vibrate. VMMMM—

"MORGAN!" a voice boomed from the necklace. "WHY DO I SMELL MY SON?!" "Huh?!"

Join my patreon For Early access to Chapter : patreon.com/TheWorldGod

Tiamat 200 Chapter (Final)

Honkai 110 Chapter

Lobotomy 110 Chapter

MushokuTensei 40 Chapter

'Pure Evil' Simulator 50 Chapter

MushokuTensei 40 Chapter