Fate:Trained By God Slayer and Witch

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"Why do I feel like you're a completely different person today?"

The next day, Artoria couldn't help but look puzzled at the refreshed Asher.

She was a bit confused about the situation. Originally, for the past two days, Asher had been looking dispirited because he had to process a large amount of information daily, coupled with the imminent attack on the outsiders. But today, his complexion looked much better, which was truly strange.

"It's nothing, let's continue with today's training," Asher lightly deflected the topic, not intending to dwell on it.

Artoria nodded gently, no longer thinking about it, just smiling faintly, "It's good that you have so much energy to learn. Let's start today's training."

Calling it training was really just a rough explanation of military strategies and what needed to be done after becoming king, followed by daily sparring sessions after Asher took notes.

In addition, they had to repeatedly discuss the advance to drive out the outsiders. In short, the entire day was almost fully scheduled. It was at this time that Asher truly understood why Morgan le Fay was so unwilling for Artoria to become King Arthur.

It was indeed quite heartbreaking to put such a young girl through so much.

...Though he felt he was having a pretty tough time himself now.

But at least during his reign, Morgan le Fay and Artoria were helping, so it was still acceptable.

Unconsciously, two days passed. According to the plan, tomorrow Asher would lead a group of knights and tribal chiefs' forces to repel the first occupied territory of the outsiders.

That night, Asher had another dream... this dream was identical to the one he had two nights ago.

It was still Morgan le Fay, and she was still pressing down on Asher.

However, this time she had transformed into Scathach, with her tight-fitting clothes and vaguely visible beautiful skin, and the two soft mounds pressing against his chest made his heart pound.

It was so real that for a moment, Asher thought he wasn't dreaming.

"Why don't you like Sister Morgan? You know, if you just get her, you'll have all the women you like. She can turn into any woman," Morgan le Fay's voice whispered in Asher's ear, sounding incredibly alluring.

So why do I always get sleep paralysis when I have these kinds of dreams?!

Asher roared in his heart.

Although he dared not do anything to his Shishou, if it was a dream...

However, he still couldn't move at all, only able to look at "Shishou" but remaining completely motionless.

Asher simply closed his eyes.

Since it's a dream, if I relax now, the sleep paralysis should disappear on its own.

Yes, relax... relax... What the hell!

Asher suddenly opened his eyes, looking at the woman with a gentle smile in front of him, roaring in his heart: So what exactly is going on?!

Am I really in love with Sister Morgan?

Why do I dream of her every three days??

---

Vortigern's Plans

It was night.

Campfires illuminated the darkness.

In a military camp, a man's fingers rhythmically tapped the edge of the throne. His expression was indifferent, his gaze seemingly passing through the camp directly to the Camelot royal city.

The man's armor shimmered in the firelight, and a dragon-emblazoned cloak was on his back, giving an invisible sense of oppression at first glance.

Vortigern, a man who should have been a formidable figure, was imprisoned years ago for underestimating an opponent. Even his powers were entirely given to others by Morgan le Fay. Yet, even so, Vortigern was still a king not to be underestimated.

This was evident from the gazes of the few generals around him.

They were all leaders of their respective territories, none subservient to the other, but when facing Vortigern, they were utterly respectful. Even if his identity was King Uther's brother, it didn't diminish their respect for this man.

"Menasen," Vortigern spoke. His voice was calm, but carried an invisible pressure that made it hard to breathe.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Menasen was a middle-aged man, his expression solemn, bowing slightly to show respect for the King of the Outsiders.

"Notify the local leaders to withdraw two-thirds of their forces from their respective territories and concentrate them all here."

Menasen was stunned. "Your Majesty, wouldn't that mean giving all the territory we painstakingly conquered back to the enemy?"

"Giving it to them doesn't matter. Compared to that, I need you to do something else now," Vortigern said slowly.

"What?" Menasen asked instinctively.

"Find at least three druids and have them calculate the location of the Otherworld."

"The Otherworld...?" Menasen looked shocked. "Your Majesty, that's where souls are reborn. Only the dead and some great mages can reach it. Why do you want to go to such a place?"

Vortigern glanced at Menasen.

Just that one glance made Menasen quickly lower his head. "My deepest apologies, I will follow your command."

Vortigern withdrew his gaze and slowly spoke, "Menasen, I understand your feelings, but you must remember... this era changed long ago."

"Excellent command and combat abilities alone will not win us victory... so I must seek a way to become stronger. For that, it doesn't matter if I cede all territories to the enemy."

"When I return, everything will be repaid in full!"

As he spoke, he unconsciously clenched his fists, the indifference on his face largely receding.

Instead, his eyes burned with a terrifying, heart-stopping rage.

As long as I find the Otherworld, there must be a way to return to my peak.

As for these people...

Vortigern narrowed his eyes, looking at the several leaders in front of him.

I'll just use them as stepping stones. There are so many outsiders anyway; losing these few won't hurt much.

Seeing that Menasen still seemed troubled, Vortigern continued, "Oh, and one more thing."

Menasen looked up and saw Vortigern speak coldly: "If you encounter King Arthur, bring him back at all costs, dead or alive."

Menasen was startled. "Kill King Arthur? But wouldn't that only enrage the Knights of the Round Table? And that witch..."

"No need to worry. He is merely a puppet emperor pushed forward by Morgan le Fay; killing him won't matter," Vortigern's tone softened considerably, as if stating an insignificant trifle.

"Yes, rest assured. Even if he dies, Morgan le Fay won't be angry. So, if you see him, even if it means losing most of our forces, you must bring him back at all costs."

"Yes!"

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