Nuclear Sword Immortal Starting from Type-Moon

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Fate of the Container

The witch named Morgan Lefebvre had never before experienced anyone being so close to her.

There was no disgust, contempt, or sarcasm in those clear eyes, only unreserved, heartfelt sincerity.

It is a sincerity that a dark witch cannot face.

My heart is beating so fast.

She had absolutely no idea how to respond to this sudden surge of emotion.

I felt a strange sensation welling up inside my body, making my chest feel tight and uncomfortable, yet also carrying a sense of indescribable panic.

Some emotions seemed about to overflow.

The witch was overcome with emotion, and her posture became somewhat unsteady.

I never expected to react this way to so many younger men.

It must be because he's been lonely for too long.

Morgan felt a little ashamed for a moment.

"Hmm? What's wrong?" Shirou asked curiously.

"Ah...no, it's nothing...!"

Morgan looked away in a panic, not daring to look at the red-haired boy's face again.

From Shirou's perspective, Morgan suddenly had an emo expression, and finally turned her face away arrogantly, refusing to look at him anymore.

"This is amazing, this woman's emotions change faster than turning the pages of a book."

By the way, how old was she at this time?

Shirou couldn't help but start to seriously consider this question.

Judging from her charming face and mature, voluptuous figure, she is definitely not a naive girl of fourteen or fifteen.

However, her current reaction gives people an unexpectedly innocent feeling, like a girl in her first love, at a loss for words.

"Ms. Morgan, are you married now?" Shirou suddenly asked.

“€? No, no…”

Morgan didn't know why the child suddenly asked such a question, but he answered him anyway.

"How old is your younger sister now?"

Shirou frowned slightly and continued to press for answers.

"She should be around fourteen or fifteen years old now."

Morgan gave a somewhat uncertain answer.

She really didn't pay much attention to things like age.

After all, according to the prevailing views of that era, a woman of her age who was still unmarried was already considered an old woman.

"Is that so...?"

Shirou was somewhat bewildered by the situation.

"Do you know Gawain, Gareth, and Agravain?"

Who is that?

Morgan tilted his head, looking puzzled.

"..."

Shirou was completely speechless.

It seems I've arrived in a unique divine age, different from the general history of humankind...

However, Morgan, at this age, was still unmarried.

He's so cute that he's completely flustered by such an incredibly charming younger man's smile, and even shy enough to avoid eye contact.

The stark contrast between that mature appearance and that youthful heart immediately made her seem even more "sour"!

Just like for leg fetishists, the sight of fleshy thighs is an irresistible temptation.

This kind of direct attack from a younger woman is clearly a good target for someone like Morgan, who seems strong but is actually lacking in love.

Just as Shirou was having these slightly impolite thoughts,

Morgan, seemingly to hide his embarrassment, had already gotten up from the luxurious bed as if nothing had happened.

Then, accompanied by the sound of fabric rubbing together, she actually started changing her clothes openly in front of Shirou.

The black silk robe slid down her rounded shoulders, and her snow-white skin shimmered in the dim candlelight.

The alluring curves were partially concealed, and the air seemed to be filled with a delicate orchid fragrance.

"Hey, you really don't treat me like an outsider?"

Shirou raised an eyebrow. Although he said that, his eyes honestly didn't look away. Instead, he openly admired the scenery in front of him.

“€€? It’s okay if you see this, Shirou.”

Morgan turned her head, put on an innocent, dazed expression, and blinked her icy blue eyes.

But the sly smile she couldn't hide at the corners of her mouth, and her wandering eyes, completely betrayed her.

Without a doubt, she did it on purpose.

This wicked witch wanted to use this bold method to turn the tables on him and see the composed Shirou show an embarrassed expression.

That scene was undoubtedly very appealing to Morgan at that moment, allowing her to regain some of her dignity as an elder.

Besides, she wasn't sleeping naked; she was wearing a thin slip underneath, which was just a bit see-through and close-fitting.

"It seems you don't know that we have a saying there..."

Shirou looked at her voluptuous curves, which were faintly visible under the thin veil, and made a meaningful remark.

Morgan fastened her belt, accentuating her incredibly slender waist, and spoke with an air of confidence, completely oblivious to the deeper meaning behind it.

"You mean a carriage? The biggest carriage in all of Britain is right here in this town," Morgan said confidently.

"It really is..."

Although the two were chatting across servers, the conversation went surprisingly smoothly.

After Morgan changed into a dark blue dress, the two finally got down to business.

"You said you came from the future?"

The layers of her skirt spread out like roses, and Morgan, sitting on the edge of the bed, looked at Shirou beside her with some surprise.

"Whether you believe it or not, it's true."

Shirou, feeling the softness of Morgan's couch, answered calmly.

"If that's the case... what kind of image will I have in people's minds in the future?"

Morgan suddenly realized this and asked somewhat nervously.

As she awaited the answer, her fingers unconsciously gripped the silk bedsheet beneath her, her knuckles turning slightly white.

"Hmm... an evil witch or something..." Shirou replied.

In any case, in the records of pan-human history, there has never been any positive evaluation of this witch.

"Ah... just as I thought."

Morgan lowered his eyes and a self-deprecating bitter smile appeared on his lips.

Her long, slender neck seemed to have lost its support, and her whole body hunched over slightly.

In that instant, she was no longer a proud princess, but a pitiful woman abandoned by fate.

Her thick eyelashes drooped down, casting a shadow under her eyelids and concealing the loneliness in her eyes.

"Then... what about my 'sister,' Artoria?" Morgan asked curiously.

"The legend of King Arthur is a very famous story in the entire European civilization."

Shirou looked at her, his tone tinged with emotion.

"Her name, whether as the Knight King or King Arthur, will be a glorious symbol known to all in the future."

At this point, Shirou paused slightly.

However, she did not find happiness.

"On her deathbed, in order to save Britain from destruction, she made a contract with the Counter Force Alaya, becoming a Servant and going to the future to participate in the Holy Grail War, hoping to obtain the Holy Grail and fulfill her wish."

Having known all of this since he was an infant after transmigrating, Shirou now felt a rare sense of relief after recounting what he knew.

He was about to burst from suffocation.

Finally, someone can give us a spoiler.

"She wanted to rely on the so-called omnipotent wish-granting machine, the 'Holy Grail,' to use miracles to correct history and save Britain."