[The anticipated revelation of your identity has yet to arrive, and your life remains as tranquil and stable as ever.]

[As you exhale a sigh of relief, curiosity about the enigmatic Merlin intensifies within you.]

[This grand magus, scorned by Morgan and labeled as the scum of humanity, leaves you wondering whether he has failed to recognize your true self or is simply keeping his knowledge concealed. Could he possibly be engaged in trivial pursuits while neglecting significant matters?]

[For each additional day spent by Artoria's side, the influence from the son of the White Dragon deepens subtly. If Merlin remains indifferent, allowing his disciple to be taken away would be an irreversible mistake.]

[Nevertheless, whatever schemes he may be plotting, the magus's absence aligns more closely with your intentions.]

[Choosing a fertile plot from Sir Ector's fields in the outskirts, you embark on the preparations for your botanical research.]

[With thoughts of your own elderly and lonely father back home, your visits to Londinium become more frequent. Often, you bring carefully crafted gifts for Morgan. However, before each encounter, you discreetly remove the ring from your left hand.]

[The ring engraved with your name, intended as a gift for the witch, is meticulously packaged and concealed in the shadows.]

[Following British customs, reaching adulthood occurs at the age of fifteen. It seems the time for that has not yet arrived.]

[Pretending to be oblivious to Morgan's caring gestures during your journeys, the witch also feigns ignorance about the pledge ring you have carved for her.]

[In this unspoken ambiguity, the distance between you and Morgan draws closer.]

[However, your father, Vortigern... Every time you make a deliberate effort to visit him, he rarely stays within the castle.]

[Recently, the frequency of the Vile King's military campaigns has been escalating, yet they are not aimed at conquest. It appears he is urgently searching for something.]

[Upon inquiring Morgan, she seems to have vague suspicions.]

"I guess..." Morgan furrowed her brows slightly, "he wants to find the coordinates to the Anchor of the Planet."

"Anchor of the Planet..."

Hearing a concept he had never encountered before, Alvin couldn't help but ask, "What is that?"

"The laws of the world are not fixed but evolve with the ages," Morgan spoke softly.

"Since the beginning of the Common Era, the connection between humans and gods has been severed, marking the decline of the Age of Gods. The true ether on Gaia gradually receded back into the Inner Sea of the Planet. You are familiar with this knowledge, Alvin."

Alvin nodded.

Since his birth, Morgan had taught him many aspects of the Age of Gods' magical knowledge that he had never heard of at the Clock Tower.

In a universe where symmetry is considered beautiful, just as there is light, there is shadow, the world also has its reverse.

This reverse is the Inner Sea of the Planet.

It shares the same coordinates as reality but is an entirely different realm, said to be vibrant and picturesque, like a blooming garden.

It is also known as the Reverse Side of the World.

Rather than a division like the Earth's crust, mantle, and core, it is closer to a spiritual or soul-like dimension within the realm of consciousness.

Utopia, Eden, Avalon, Supreme Heaven, Promised Land...

In different civilizations, the Inner Sea of the Planet has many other names.

According to Alvin's personal understanding, this thing is more or less what people call... Subspace.

"Furthermore, the laws of the world are not naturally occurring but, like a thin fabric, they cover the entire world, forming the various environments and rules we are accustomed to."

Saying this, Morgan lifted her skirt, gently rubbing the delicate fabric between her fair fingertips. Then, she slightly punctured it.

"To prevent this fabric from drifting away, the laws were fixed to the surface like nails, and that is the Anchor of the Planet."

Alvin was amazed.

So, the physics of their moonlit world was like a piece of modesty cloth.

This worldview is as fragile as glass...

Alvin marveled at the low level of the moonlit world's setting. No wonder they often have some kind of world-ending crisis.

The witch's explanation was straightforward and easy to understand. She was indeed a genius among geniuses. However...

"Why does that old man want to find the Anchor of the Planet?"

Although the bottom structure of the moonlit world was interesting, this was the question Alvin was more concerned about.

"As the secluded haven of the isolated islands, Britannia is the last piece of untainted land left from the Age of Gods."

Standing at the top of the tower.

Morgan's azure eyes gazed towards the endless coastline of the mainland.

"There is no legacy of the Age of Gods beyond the islands. Therefore, I guess he wants to pull out the Anchor of the Planet, loosen the world's laws, and halt the decline of the Age of Gods in Britannia."

"Isn't it a good thing to bring back the Age of Gods?"

Alvin frowned in confusion.

If that were the case, why didn't Vortigern and Uther discuss it properly at the beginning? Why create the current situation of discord and reverence?

The rich resources of the Age of Gods and the abundant magical energy would undoubtedly greatly accelerate the world's development.

Magecraft is also a form of productivity.

Although most magus were crazy for trying to chase the elusive Root, resulting in a bunch of lunatics.

From Alvin's modern perspective, technology is inherently neither good nor evil, only lacking effective guidance.

Magus are crazy, so just keep beating them until they become normal! Keep hitting them until they become ordinary people!

Magecraft is not such an inconvenient thing.

The ease and freedom of casting magecraft in the Age of Gods made Alvin feel a bit uncomfortable at the thought of returning to the Ether-poor environment of the Clock Tower.

From a moral and logical standpoint, if Vortigern wants to bring back the Age of Gods, it should be a good thing...

If Uther wants to make Britannia great again, there is no reason to oppose it.

However, the Vile King prefers to be cursed by his own people, bringing in the foreign Saxons, risking the world's great dangers just to seize the throne...

Why does Vortigern hide his intentions?

It would be better to announce the decline of the Age of Gods to the world, and people would work together for its return.

Alvin believed that there must be hidden factors in this matter.

"Who knows what my uncle is thinking... Well, I don't care at all."

Morgan shook her head gently.

"Anyway, as long as Vortigern has a dispute with my 'dear father,' I am willing to assist him."

Facing her disciple, the witch's words were very sincere.

She didn't care about what Vortigern wanted to do, she just wanted revenge against Uther, the stepfather who showed favoritism.

How her mother, Igraine, became the vessel for the new king, and what kind of gloomy scene was her childhood...

Morgan couldn't forget those pains, and no one had the right to ask her for forgiveness.

And now, her vengeful attitude was somewhat fading, still remaining in the Vile King's camp... or more precisely, mostly because of Alvin.

Alvin Pendragon...

Embarrassed to admit it, but she really couldn't do without this disciple.

"Moreover, Vortigern has no way to succeed, he knows it's nonsense, an utterly futile path..."

Recalling her conversation with the Vile King.

The witch couldn't help but feel emotional.

The dream that the Vile King pursued throughout his life was nothing more than a mirage, with a minuscule chance of realization.

The so-called... Futile Path.

Vortigern was moving steadily toward the desperate cliff.

This was one of the reasons she didn't want to intervene.

Morgan knew her uncle's temperament, and it was meaningless to dissuade him from pursuing that moth-to-flame journey.

He was, after all, the White Dragon born for Britannia.

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