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

The first thing she did after drawing her sword was this.

"Mr. Ian, thank you for coming."

"I...it seems I really succeeded."

No one around heard this.

You realize this is a secret message from Artoria, one that only you can hear.

But this is a huge irony for someone who has just figured everything out.

Your hand slowly moved to the blade of the sword at your waist.

"Father."

Gawain's call interrupted Ian's anger.

You seem to be—

Gawain looked at the boy, Artorius, who was hugging his father.

"What was it like when you first met him?"

Before Ian could answer the question, Artorius spoke first.

However, unlike her gentle demeanor in Ian's arms, her tone was noticeably colder when facing Gawain.

If we had to describe it in a certain way—

That is the wind that surges forward, and it will not linger for even a moment longer after touching the branches in the forest.

In their hearts, there is only the sea they want to return to.

This analogy may be too complex.

So--

It would be easier to understand if we simply interpreted it as Artorias retaining only girlish feelings for Ian.

Because they lack empathy for others, even their way of speaking becomes somewhat cold and impersonal.

“Yes, he is an important person to me,” she said.

Gawain was stunned.

He hadn't expected that this boy, who was clearly much smaller than him physically, could possess such an aura.

He seemed to have vaguely touched upon something.

However, he knew this wasn't the time for him to speak.

[He looks at you. 】

"..."

Ian calmly withdrew his hand from the hilt of the sword.

He realized he had acted impulsively.

In this situation, there's simply no way to take action against Artorius.

This wasn't because she was afraid of paying a heavy price after she did it, but because she didn't want Morgan to be implicated because of her.

Revealing her female form is also not an option.

Merlin's magic was clearly still in effect—even Gawain hadn't noticed anything amiss.

Then the only path left is to endure.

Ian suppressed all his anger and forced a fake smile as he looked at Artorius.

He pulled away from her embrace, then smiled and said:

"This has little to do with me; it's your own hard work that made all of this possible."

"Artorius, congratulations."

"You are the first knight to draw your sword."

Ian's recognition as the nominal King of Loth had a clear encouraging effect.

The atmosphere, which had been one of whispers, was instantly transformed into something entirely different.

Atolis became the focus of everyone's attention—the people on Camelot Street were all watching the boy who had drawn his sword.

They were unaware that Britain's fate had begun to take a sharp turn for the worse.

They didn't even notice Ian's clenched fist.

You quietly left the scene that had attracted so much attention.

You ran towards the royal court.

You've arrived at Morgan's private workshop, where she researches magic.

Only you know how to get in here.

"Princess."

"Ok?"

Morgan turned around and, upon seeing Ian, his furrowed brows relaxed slightly.

“Foolish knight, you’d better put your proud lance to rest.”

"What if something unexpected happens one day—"

Morgan's fingers lightly traced across Ian's chest.

"That would be a loss for us all."

"Your Highness, I am very grateful for your concern."

"but--"

"but?"

Morgan, noticing something amiss in Ian's tone, looked up at him.

“Ian, you should know I don’t like people who procrastinate.”

Ian's expression was somewhat serious.

He tried to find words that would make his report sound less offensive, but found it impossible.

There is no other choice but to be honest.

"Princess."

"Atoris... pulled the sword out of the rock."

"..."

Morgan paused for a moment.

Her normally elegant blue pupils had lost their original color, replaced by unfathomable doubt.

"Ian, what did you say?! I order you to repeat yourself!"

Now that the conversation had begun, Ian knew he absolutely couldn't back down now.

"Princess."

"Atoris... pulled the sword out of the rock."

“I witnessed it all.”

Time seemed to stand still around Morgan.

There wasn't a trace of red on her fair skin, as if all the blood in her body had been drained in an instant.

A silent stillness enveloped the entire room, extinguishing any potential source of communication.

After a long silence, Morgan finally spoke in a trembling voice:

Why her?

"How was she able to pull out that sword?"

"This is unreasonable!"

“Your Highness.” Ian looked at Morgan, who was trembling with anger, and felt a pang of sadness.

"Artorius, perhaps, is the heir we were unable to find back then."

"..."

Morgan froze once again.

Her eyes were empty, and even her blue pupils had fallen into darkness.

“Ian, you should have killed her on the city wall!” she roared.

"Yes, Your Highness, you are right."

Ian lowered his head and knelt down in front of Morgan.

“It’s my fault.”

"Please punish me."

You decide to take all the blame upon yourself, hoping to make Morgan vent his frustrations.

But she's not so easily guided by you.

She quickly realized something was wrong.

"No, Ian."

Morgan's hands were trembling.

"Merlin would never let you do that!"

"You can't kill her."

Paper can never truly contain fire.

"..."