A Villainess pulled out the Sword instead of the Hero.

  

Morgana sought out Raon’s tavern as soon as the sun rose.

 

After drinking and playing all night, she was greeted by a scene that somehow resembled her first visit.

 

Morgana gazed at the tower of mercenaries sleeping in layers again and asked Raon.

 “How’d it go?” “Hmph. Lady, it’s been less than an hour since sunrise.” “Did you find out anything?” “Well, I did get someone yesterday after you went, but…” 

Raon wiped a hand across his face, exhausted.

 “Lord Caradoc is fine during the day, and I’m pretty sure this has been cross-checked, but the night must be the problem.” “At night?” “I asked the servant, and he said it only happens at night. Only when he sleeps.” “Hmm…” 

Morgana tilted her head at the vague answer.

 

Raon scratched the back of his head in amusement at how useless that sounded.

 “Sounds like it’s pretty bad. They’ve tried everything, including medication, but it doesn’t work, so maybe it’s just something that happens at night, and he’s fine during the day.” “So, if there’s a medication, does he take it?” “I’m guessing, but Lord Caradoc doesn’t seem to think so, and his son’s so young, and he’s so frightened.” 

He pondered Morgana’s question, scratched his chin, and answered dryly.

 “So if there’s a medicine, will the son be… interested?” 

Before Raon could finish his sentence, the tavern door swung open.

 

Arthur, breathing raggedly, checked Morgana and bowed his head heavily.

 

He looked surprised that she’d left the letter at the manor.

 

Morgana pointed at Arthur, then at Raon.

 “Do you have any bandages?”  

Raves doubted his eyes.

 

Surely his boss was out, so why did I see him sitting at his desk in his office?

 

Wondering if it was really time to quit, he covered the corner of his mouth with one hand.

 “I’m not hallucinating, though I realize it doesn’t look very real.” 

He clicked his tongue slightly at the clarity of Kellive’s voice.

 “If you’re leaving, why are you here so early?” “I was worried about Avalon.” “Well… I don’t know whether to be happy about that or sad…” 

Raves took a step, a small, incontinent trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth as he approached Kellive.

 

He deftly pulled a handkerchief from his bosom and wiped it away.

 “Did you use your sword?” “I see I cannot fool you.” 

Kellive looked up from his neatly organized papers and asked dryly.

 “What do you consider the standard of acquaintance, Raves?” “Ugh, you’re asking me something abstract again. If I know their name, recognize their face, and have had tea with them a few times… that’s an acquaintance.” “She’d run away if she knew my name.” “Then we’re just acquaintances.” 

‘Know the face, drink the tea.’

 

Keeping the powers at my side was more tricky than I thought.

 

Despite my repeated attempts to convince her that Avalon was better than Britain, she wouldn’t even consider it.

 

He considered offering her a large sum of money to come to Avalon, but he doubted she’d take it, seeing as how she was already running around screaming her heart out.

 

He tilted his head and frowned, not quite understanding.

 “Raves, how is Avalon?” “What can I say if you ask me how it is, I’m having a hell of a time filling in for the King when he’s away.” 

In contrast to his cocky answer, he looked at Kellive with a wry smile.

 

What a mismatched appearance.

 

Kellive flicked his fingers across the papers.

 “Not what you see about Avalon, but what you think. I’m asking where you would stand if war came.” “In front of the king, where would I say, Avalon.” “Why?” “I don’t know when I’m going to die anyway, so what’s the point of selling my country? I should defend the place I’ve lived all my life, so I have something to honor.” 

Raves replied, his eyes moist and his voice thin and quivering at the edges.

 

Kellive smiled brightly as he clasped his hands together and placed them on his desk.

 “That’s why I like you.” “Don’t be gross.” “Gross?” “Then what’s the point?” “Then I’ll tell you a tantalizing story.” 

Kellive pulled one out of the papers and tossed it on the desk, under his chin.

 

On it was the seal of the Guild.

 “Someone helped the Guild. A letter of introduction to House Britain has been granted. Find out who it was.” “Ah, how thrilling…” 

As he looked at the papers, Raves’s face looked as if he might burst into tears at any moment.

  

Lennon stopped picking at the meat and opened his mouth in surprise.

 “Wow, you have that?” 

The man who’d brought the lamb spoke up as he set down the bowl.

 “You still believe in this stuff, Morgana. Where are the herbs to heal a wounded arm?” “Why, you saw it yourself, mercenary.” 

At Lennon’s words, the owner glanced at Arthur, who sat with one arm bandaged.

 

The mercenary was well known among the raiders.

 

He’d heard the name, but hadn’t expected it to be the man Morgana had brought.

 

Emptying his cup and setting it down on the table, he asked bluntly.

 “Rumor has it he’s dead.” 

Morgana raised her voice, bouncing her spoon lightly off the table.

 “Yes. Dead and alive, with only minor injuries, as you can see from the herbs!” 

Morgana nudged Arthur’s leg under the table.

 

He stiffened and awkwardly held up his bandaged arm.

 

Morgana pointed to it and spoke confidently.

 “There’s more, and you can get it all at Raon’s ‘Drink and Die’ tavern!” “Oooooh…” 

Lennon clapped his hands, mesmerized.

 

At this point, the owner headed for the kitchen, his eyes on Arthur’s arm to see if he’d like to join in.

 

Morgana spun a tale as she made her way around the store.

 

Sadly, Arthur was not a good liar.

 

For some reason, he developed a tendency to ignore words, which was for the best.

 

Of course, Morgana wasn’t lying.

 

Although Morgana had the power to heal anyone who came to her, there was no point in being discovered.

 

So they were disguised as herbs.

 

Of course, some herbs actually worked, but they were more for show than actual power.

 

Morgana slurped her lamb soup again.

 “Anyway, that’s what I’m saying.” “Interesting. Is that what you were talking about when you asked me to try the herbs?” “Well, maybe…” 

With Morgana’s personality, it probably wasn’t a good herb.

 

But to protect Morgana’s innocence, he kept his mouth shut.

 

Lord Caradoc wouldn’t mind a cure for his ailments.

 

More importantly, he would be the one who would help her save Guinevere from the assassins later.

 

‘I’ve baited the hook, will he bite?’

 

Lord Caradoc’s son, he said, was a boy who had just turned 16 years of age.

 

He had watched and admired his father since childhood, and, having lost his mother at an early age, he was devastated by the state of his sole family.

 

‘It’s a bit mean, but I need to find out how they got the letter of introduction in exchange for the herbs.’

 

If it was a minion of the Duke of Fay or a mole from Avalon, it had to be dealt with.

 

If it turned out to be a mole, Morgana’s story would play out just like the original.

 

A Fay bastard who helped kill Guinevere, and there would be no place for her in Britain again.

 

Morgana waved her hands in the air, repeating the same pattern over and over again as she traveled to all the different places.

 

Along the way, she bumped into some of Arthur’s gossipers and explained the same thing.

 

It was so convincing, they fought back tears.

 “I know it’s tough being a mercenary, Arthur, with nothing to help you if you get hurt.” “…Yes.” 

Arthur’s words grew shorter and slurred with weariness.

 

Now he just had to wait for the word to spread.

 

Exactly two days later, Raon summoned him to the tavern.

 

The signal had come from Count Equator.

 

When they arrived at the tavern, they were greeted by Raon, who had lost a few pounds.

 “He’s waiting upstairs.” “Raon, what’s wrong? Why do you look so…” “He came to see if I could save him because of the rumors. Quite the bastard.” 

Looks like the propaganda worked. After a modest thanks, Morgana led Arthur upstairs.

 

Sure enough, the door opened and a man in a robe stood there.

 

He was still a child, with red hair and eyes that looked as if they were on edge.

 

It was Cadric, the only son of the Count of Equator.