In the world of Type-Moon, it all begins with becoming Morgan's husband!

Once Vortigern is defeated, Camelot's future will begin anew.

But having endured so much hardship to get here, you don't feel excited; instead, you taste a faint bitterness.

This isn't quite the feeling you expected.

After much deliberation, before the decisive battle with Vortigern began, you still wrote a letter to Morgan.

But you don't know that this letter, which expresses your feelings, will have an irreversible impact on her.

“Ian—!”

"I command you to return to my side!"

With a gasp, Morgan sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for breath.

The room was empty, with only light streaming in through the stained glass windows.

Everything was bathed in the pure white light of the moon, as if one had fallen into an ethereal sea of ​​stars.

Sweating profusely, the princess looked at the empty seat beside her and instinctively reached out to grope around on the round table by the bed.

She finally breathed a sigh of relief when she found two letters that had been opened dozens of times.

One of the letters was Ian's previous request for forgiveness from Argentine.

And one of them is a new letter that I just received today.

What was it again?

I remembered.

Was it Ian who said he finally had a chance to let that woman defeat Vortigern?

Soon, he would ascend the throne that symbolized power, just as he had promised.

but--

Morgan looked at the letter written in neat handwriting in his hand under the moonlight, his hand trembling uncontrollably.

Why am I so uneasy?

Everything was going exactly as he wanted—that woman would soon be ousted from the throne.

But deep down, I felt absolutely no joy.

The haughty princess put the letter back in her hand.

Her slender fingers slowly slipped into the blankets, playing a solo nocturne in the darkness.

She was trying to derive pleasure from him, but the result was that her body showed absolutely no interest.

Morgan stopped—she was starting to question the meaning of life.

Is pleasing yourself really that difficult?

I don't think I've ever noticed this before.

That's it.

When he comes back, lock him in the room.

Use the most powerful magic to keep him trapped for life, severing his connection with everyone.

Then use your own body to turn him into a complete waste.

Every day, my mind is completely blank except for the person standing in front of me offering pleasure.

In that case, there's no need to worry anymore.

Morgan pondered this, but unsurprisingly, he suffered from insomnia.

She began to miss the feeling of someone holding her waist and whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

You have no idea how Morgan is feeling right now.

You only feel a dull ache in the wound on your back.

Artoria noticed this.

But you know this isn't the time to tell her—because it would make her immediately halt Camelot's advance once again.

That's not the outcome you wanted.

"Mr. Ian, are you sure it's okay?"

The naked king nestled in the man's arms, his emerald eyes reflecting only the man's image.

Your forehead is covered in sweat.

"..."

Ian forced a smile and gently wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"It's nothing, I probably just didn't get enough rest."

"is it?"

Artoria looked up and gently kissed Ian.

"Then I'll do it all by myself today."

“Mr. Ian…you just need to enjoy yourself.”

Looking at the girl who sat down with a happy expression, Ian felt incredibly conflicted.

He felt as if he were facing a fork in the road leading to different futures.

At the end of the war, what choice should I make?

Ian touched the girl's waist, but he felt no basis for his choice.

The march of conquest will not cease.

After crossing the river, you encountered Vortigern's army.

Like you, these armies, composed of invaders from other races, also possess exceptionally high military skills.

You can no longer defeat the enemy as easily as before; you need to handle each encounter more carefully.

However, this does not mean you cannot achieve victory.

The French reinforcements that Lancelot received provided you with considerable assistance.

You're increasingly glad you didn't see him as an enemy.

You proceed steadily and cautiously, gradually penetrating deeper into the heart of Vottigan.

[The final honor + has been replaced with Eternal Knighthood +: Your textbook military exploits will be recorded in history, and future generations will sing the praises of the Knights of the Round Table in epic sagas.]

Time passed slowly in this tense atmosphere.

It's time to formulate the final battle strategy.

"Both of you."

Lancelot moved his finger lightly across the map, pointing out three locations in succession.

"How about we launch an attack simultaneously in these three locations this time?"

“Hmm.” Artoria nodded, looking at the spot Lancelot pointed to.

"I think this is a good idea."

"then you?"

Lancelot looked at Ian.

"The king will decide," Ian smiled slightly. "I'll just carry it out."

"Then it seems there are no objections."

Lancelot removed his finger from the map and glanced at Ian and Artoria who were present.

"Since we share the same idea, let's also make a small bet."

"How about we see who sees Voodoo first?"

"..."

"..."

Although no one answered, the fact that all three of them simultaneously reached for their sword hilts spoke volumes more than any reply.

You have begun to proceed according to the established strategy.

This was the most difficult time—because Vortigern's troops knew that if they didn't fight to the death, their fate would be dire.

But this is nothing more than a death throes.

The swords Excalibur, Excalibur Galatine, and Aroundight provide powerful enhancements.

You advanced with unstoppable momentum, triumphantly and triumphantly.

Vottigan's last troops gradually crumbled.

Artoria was the first to meet Vortigern, albeit slightly faster—she always seemed to have an extra stroke of luck when it came to gambling.

Under the blazing sun, you were the second to arrive.

While Lancelot was the last to arrive, he wasn't actually that much slower.

However, none of you are in the mood to worry about the outcome of this gamble right now.

For Vortigern is sitting on the great rock before you, as if it were his own throne.

There were no knights or guards with him.

He stared at you with such a piercing gaze, as if he were the one who had driven you to this dead end.

"Ha, it's even faster than I expected."

As Vortigern sat atop the boulder, a sword blade was stuck in the ground beside him.

The aging King looked at the three people who had arrived with his usual calm gaze.

"But it's a pity."

“It doesn’t matter—arriving here a minute earlier or a minute later won’t change anything.”