A Villainess pulled out the Sword instead of the Hero.

 “Morgana, you came?” 

Lennon spotted her first and came running.

 

He put down the boxes he was carrying and came bustling toward them.

 “What’s up, do you need another scythe?” 

He asked cheerfully, but then his face hardened when he saw Kellive beside her.

 

He crept to Morgana’s side and whispered, covering his mouth.

 “Who’s that brown-haired guy?” “…Brown hair?” 

Morgana swiveled her head to look at Kellive again.

 

Dark hair, no doubt. Black hair, even in the sun.

 

No matter if she woke up in her sleep or hung upside down from a saddle, it would be black.

 

Morgana glanced at Lennon, her eyes widening in disbelief.

 “What are you talking about?” “No, I’m just saying, it’s a common, ugly brunette, and I haven’t seen him around here before, so who is he?” 

A very personal and self-serving assessment, perhaps.

 

She couldn’t tell if Lennon’s standards were high or if Britain’s aesthetic was different from hers.

 

As she studied the weapons on the wall, their eyes met, and she smiled wryly.

 “You might get the wrong idea if you look at them like that in front of the weapons.” “Oh, no! There was never any impure intent. Not one gram of murder, blackmail, extortion, or any other heinous crime!” “Well, if you say impure, I’m even more curious.” 

Morgana nudged Lennon, who glared at him warily.

 

He wasn’t shrewd enough to comment on his appearance in front of her.

 

She quickly made her way inside the store.

 

The owner looked at Morgana warily when he saw her.

 

He gripped the cashier’s desk with both hands as if trying to pull himself up.

 “…What is it, what is it, tell me your purpose.” “I’m buying a dagger, for self-defense.” “You’re buying one, right?” “Yes!” 

He was less agitated than before, but he still didn’t fully believe me.

 

He showed me a case with a row of daggers.

 “It’s usually these types that sell well…” 

Before he could explain, an arm from behind held up a single black dagger.

 

Turning around, Kellive looked at the blade.

 “I’d prefer something with a segmented grip than something like this. This one is literally for everyday use.” “You know swords?” 

At the man’s question, Kellive gingerly held up the dagger.

 

It was so small that it felt like a toy to him.

 

He twirled the dagger lightly in his hand, and then, with a clang, he hurled it toward the door.

 

It was a clean, unobtrusive motion.

 

The two distracted guests who had entered the room embraced each other in surprise, their eyes wide.

 “Wha— what’s going on?” “Oh, sorry. My hand slipped.” “Aww, you scared me. You better watch that hand. I thought I was going to die.” 

At the door. Arthur watched the two men trudge in, silent as they entered.

 

At Morgana’s request, he followed them at some distance.

 

Apparently, the man called Confucius was still aware of his presence.

 

He even tossed his dagger in his hand as a signal.

 

After purchasing the dagger on Kellive’s recommendation, Morgana left the weapons shop and wandered the streets.

 

It was no different from the streets Morgana had traveled before.

 

Except a little dramatically enough.

 “How much for the dagger? I’ll pay.” “Since you’re giving me a tour, why don’t you consider it a gift?” “No. I’m very particular about the price.” “Then it’s not a gift, it’s a haul, and I’m dropping it now.” “I have a hobby of putting money up other people’s sleeves.” “Giving, that’s a healthy hobby.” 

Morgana pretends to hold out the money and refuses to take it.

 

Confucius’ golden eye flashed briefly across Arthur’s face.

 

So much was different than when he’d only ever taken.

 

Morgana forced the pouch into his chest pocket.

 

It wasn’t easy with the way his coat draped over him.

 

Here and there she found a place to shove it up to the nape of his shirt, when she found a space in the sleeve.

 “It’s a little hot in Britain.” 

He said, taking off his coat and draping it over his arms.

 

Tsk, the sleeve tuck fails.

 “More so because there’s a lot of people, so the night market is pretty crowded at night.” “It’s pretty at night over there, as well.” “What?” 

Morgana’s eyes narrowed for a moment, not sure what he was talking about, but then she realized he was describing Avalon.

 “They have fireworks at night on festival days, because the sky is high and clear, and the wizards in the towers cast spells while chanting oaths.” “Oh, I’m curious about that.” 

It’s a place where magic thrives. It was a different atmosphere from Britain.

 

Morgana browsed the various shops, pulling out a demon mask from a stall and showing it off.

 “There’s a lot of weird stuff here, stuff you don’t see back home!” “Have you ever been to a masquerade ball over there? It’s fun to hide your identity and have fun, and then when you recognize each other, sometimes you grab each other by the hair.” 

He has a point. I couldn’t resist watching a fight… or not!

 

Apparently, he asked to be introduced to Britain.

 

For some reason, she felt like she was being introduced to Avalon.

 

Was it an illusion…?

 

Morgana, who had gotten nauseous, led him at a brisk pace.

 “Here, look, this is a desert lizard, the kind you can only see in Britain!” “White foxes, they’re popular over there because they have round eyes and rub their noses at people.” 

Ears, that sounds cute. Nope. Don’t curl them.

 

Morgana rubbed her eyes and strode on.

 “There’s a fountain show here in the square!” “There’s one over there, too. Bards are a bonus.” “It’s warm out, so there’s plenty of street food!” “How about a giant indoor wizard’s street. They keep the area warm 24 hours a day, and there are all sorts of strange magic paraphernalia.” 

Oh, that bastard…

 

Morgana caught her breath in the corner of the plaza.

 

There was no winning this. She didn’t know Avalon, and he knew her too well.

 

Even about Britain, he knew better.

 

This was what they called an information battle.

 

Even she was burdened by the things she’d bought on the pretense of being good.

 

Tightening her grip on her ladybug antennae braids, Morgana glared behind her.

 

When he saw the fountain in the plaza, he grinned and held up his hand.

 

He watched her trudge away and asked, “Where next? I’m looking forward to it.”

 

A faint glimmer of excitement could be seen in his eyes.

 

Morgana tried to sit on the fountain.

 “No, I give up, end of story.” 

Raising her hands, she cut off his expectations with every fiber of her being that she had indeed led him away.

 

He held Morgana’s hand for a moment, then pulled out a handkerchief and placed it on her hand.

 

It’s hard to believe he’s from the countryside.

 

He sits down next to her, and she sits down, watching him warily.

 

Staring out the side at the children wandering around and the landscape, Morgana spoke up.

 “So, how’s it been over there?” she asks. “Not so good. No acquaintances, people eyeing me.” “Acquaintances and eyes…” 

Well, that wasn’t a very nice thing to say, she muttered to herself.

 

Instinctively grumbling, Morgana snapped her head around to glare at him.

 

Then he smirked and asked,

“May I ask how you came to have a maid?” “Oh, I was completely tricked.” 

Morgana stomped her foot on the floor, replacing her anger with a light kick.

 “Well, there was definitely a letter of introduction.” 

It wasn’t as if Raon hadn’t been a mercenary for a day or two, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t tell the real thing from the fake.

 

It bore the seal and signature of the Count of Equator.

 

‘If the Duke of Fay sent them, there would be no connections in Britain…’

 

It was unlikely that the new king of Avalon would have helped him.

 

He thought of the Duke of Fay, who had been pointing him in the direction of the royal palace at every turn.

 

‘If the Duke of Fay was so cooperative, I doubt he would’ve been swearing so much.’

 

In the original, the final villain sent people directly. Morgana was one of them.

 

I wonder if an assassin has already infiltrated Count Equator’s household with the intention of targeting Guinevere.

 

Why the letter of introduction would be from Count Equator was beyond me.