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

千,寻.免.!费;小'说?:裙!2?'5;;5.;5!9?;5!3!!0!.0: ?"千;寻,:小;"说!中?"转?;裙..5.;5?4."7'!0.7;?5"5!,5鸟儿的叫声在树上回响。

Normally, Mordred would be out catching those birds by now.

But not this time.

Because her birth mother, who was also the Queen of Camelot—Morgan—ordered her to come to her side as quickly as possible.

If she finds out I was stealing birds on the street, I'm sure I'll get a scolding later.

But stealing birds' nests is much more interesting than listening to people talk!

With these complaints in mind, Mordred started jogging.

Morgan's room is still the same room she lived in when she was a princess.

Although this place is somewhat dilapidated and no longer befits her status as a queen.

But Morgan still insisted on staying there.

dong dong dong.

Mordred knocked on the door.

"Your Majesty, it is I."

Although she knew she was Morgan's biological daughter, Mordred dared not be too indulgent in front of her.

"The door's unlocked, come in," came the reply from inside.

Mordred pushed open the door and found Morgan standing by the window.

Those eyes, as blue as the ocean, were now gazing at the sea of ​​flowers outside the window—a place she had ordered to be carefully protected.

"king……"

"Don't be so formal. There's no one else here but us. Shout whatever you want."

"Mother."

"Hmm." Morgan smiled with satisfaction.

"come on."

"Oh……"

Mordred came to Morgan's side as Morgan had instructed.

"Mother, why did you call me here in such a hurry? It's because..."

"Don't rush yet."

Morgan pointed with her slender fingers to the sea of ​​flowers outside.

Even though she has been around for some time, she is still so beautiful, as if she has remained young forever.

Do you think they are beautiful?

"what?"

Although he didn't understand why Morgan asked the question, Mordred still thought about it very seriously.

Finally, she received an excellent answer.

"Mother, I don't know!"

"But since you've asked, I think it should be pretty!"

"is it?"

Morgan's eyes showed a hint of sadness.

"If it's such a beautiful flower, why can't it keep the people who should stay?"

"Huh? This..." Mordred scratched his face. "Maybe it's because he just doesn't like flowers?"

"..."

Morgan was taken aback at first, then laughed.

"is it?"

"What you said does make some sense."

“Mother, please stop with the riddles!” Mordred said anxiously. “You know I’m terrified of these things.”

"If there's anything you need, it's better to tell me directly!"

"Right."

Morgan pointed to a box to the side.

"Mordred, go and get the things out of there."

"Oh!"

Mordred, following Morgan's instructions, opened the large box that was lying quietly to the side.

The contents of the box surprised her a little.

It was a longsword with a cross shape, made entirely of silver.

"Mother, what is this?"

Mordred looked at the sword in front of him, somewhat puzzled.

“It’s a gift from me to you,” Morgan replied.

"By taking this sword, you will have the right to inherit all of Britain."

"..."

Mordred felt like she wasn't fully awake.

After patting her face several times, she was finally sure it wasn't a hallucination.

"Mother, is this the sword that symbolizes the king?"

“Yes, my child,” Morgan said with a smile.

"You are now qualified to take over all of this."

"No no no!"

Mordred, holding the sword, waved his hands repeatedly.

"Mother, you must be joking! How could I possibly be worthy of doing such a thing?!"

“Aren’t all of Gawain’s brothers more capable than me? Even if it’s about inheriting the throne, shouldn’t it be them?”

“No,” Morgan shook his head.

"Only you can pick up this sword."

"Mordred, I won't allow you to refuse it."

"But--"

Mordred looked at the gleaming silver blade in his hand, his expression one of great difficulty.

"Mother."

“Although I am your daughter, I have never coveted the throne... Your approval is enough for me.”

"I absolutely cannot accept this sword as a sign of the 'King's' approval."

“I will always be a knight of Britain, and that will never change.”

Upon hearing this, Morgan seemed to recall some deeply cherished memories of the past, and her eyes widened slightly.

But she quickly calmed down.

"Well, if that's the case—"

"Mordred, what if I attribute other meanings to it?"

"Other meanings?"

“Hmm.” Morgan reached out and tidied Mordred’s slightly messy hair.

"I named it 'future'."

"It will be the key to you seeing your father."

"You must take good care of it—because I might need it at some point."

"This……"

Mordred in her memory and Ian in reality said the exact same things.

"Did your mother really say that?"

"Yes."

Mordred, dressed in men's clothing, nodded.

"My mother said I must protect this sword well."

"so--"

"I would never want that person named Ophelia to touch that sword."

"..."

Ian reached out and tidied Mordred's slightly messy hair.

"Thank you so much for your hard work."

“Nothing of the sort,” Mordred said, wiping his nose.

"My mother wasn't lying to me!"

"At least now, I've actually seen you, Father!"

Mordred's words made Ian realize that their "reunion" might not have been a coincidence at all.

Thinking about it this way, even the idea of ​​transforming Mordred using Artoria's data from the simulation battle might start to seem a bit suspicious.

After thinking it over carefully, he continued to ask: