Morgan currently couldn't think of a particularly good solution.
Neither could Lot.
To be fair, the situation had taken too drastic a turn today.
Just earlier, it had been a battle between humans.
But now?
Vortigern had transformed into a demonic dragon?
Lot could clearly see that many people were gripped by fear today.
But that wasn't their fault.
After all, this seemed like an utterly unwinnable fight.
If Vortigern were still human, well, so were they. Sure, he could cut them down with a single strike but likewise, their blades could wound him too.
Even if they had to throw bodies at him, they could still wear him down.
Right?
But now?
Vortigern had become a colossal dragon.
Towering over ten meters tall, even at his full height, Lot would only be able to slash at its ankles.
And a dragon's body was covered in impenetrable scales.
What good would their swords do?
They might as well be trimming its toenails for all the damage they'd deal.
That was what the ordinary soldiers were thinking.
So, at this moment, none of them had any idea how to face Vortigern.
Throwing lives at it wasn't an option anymore.
With this new development, they needed a new strategy.
...
Morgan looked at Lot, hoping he could come up with something.
But instead, Lot had a completely different idea.
When faced with difficulty?
Sleep it off.
[Well, it's not like we have to solve this immediately. Vortigern may be powerful, but right now, it's still severely wounded from my attack. I'll use this time to fish up something useful. Maybe what's troubling me now won't even be an issue later.]
Lot thought to himself.
Hm?
Hearing her husband's inner monologue, Morgan's face twisted in confusion.
Wait.
You're going out to fish, right?
What exactly are you planning to bring back besides fish?
Ah
Hold on.
Thinking about it, Morgan suddenly realized something.
Come to think of it…
Her husband had been fishing for so long, yet he'd hardly ever brought back any actual fish.
They'd been married for nearly two years now.
In all that time he'd spent fishing, he'd only returned with fish once that time he'd carried a red bucket (made of some strange material) filled with them.
Every other time?
Nothing.
You're really bad at fishing, aren't you?
But then…
Morgan recalled the things Lot had brought back from his fishing trips.
That metal weapon he called a "gun," which could fire projectiles.
Those explosives he'd used to blow up King Rience back in Scotland.
Not to mention the sword Joyeuse he'd pulled out recently a blade worthy of being called a divine artifact.
So…
Could he fish up even more things?
Morgan's eyes sparkled with anticipation.
Well then, keep at it.
Go fish up more treasures for me.
Gungnir, Mjölnir bring them all back.
Don't worry about space if we run out, I'll just convert little Gawain's bedroom into an armory and have her sleep cuddling weapons.
That's what Morgan thought.
As for where Lot was fishing these things from…
She didn't need to know.
Everyone was entitled to their secrets.
Just like any ordinary Celtic wife, she only needed to wait for her husband to go out, work, and bring back the rewards. If she pried too deeply into his secrets, it would only undermine his dignity.
She might be the queen,
but her husband was also a king.
A king must maintain his majesty.
As his wife, it was her duty to uphold that dignity.
"Besides, it's not like he'd act like a pervert toward anyone but me."
With that thought, she watched as Lot stretched, her face softening into an affectionate expression.
If Lot could eavesdrop on Morgan's thoughts like she could his, he'd probably ask her to dress up in a maid outfit and greet him with a proper "Good evening, master" in a thick London accent and she'd likely agree without hesitation.
"Tired?" she asked him, reaching out to massage his hands.
"I can manage, but I could use some rest," Lot replied with a slight nod.
Then he gave Morgan a suspicious look.
[What kind of mischief is my wife planning tonight?]
Hearing this, Morgan immediately scowled.
But then, she thought of a move that would both please Lot and not seem out of the ordinary.
Grabbing his collar, she declared:
"Come. Accompany your queen to bed."
"At your command."
Lot's eyes gleamed with anticipation.
A twenty-year-old man was at the age where even sleeping on hardwood could leave an imprint.
Now that the battle was won,
what better way to celebrate?
As for Morgan's earlier question about whether he was tired?
Lot took it as her testing whether he was still up for it.
And could a man ever admit exhaustion at a time like this?
Hell no.
This body of his?
It was a damn shame he wasn't in the adult entertainment industry.
A little missy in her late teens like her?
She couldn't possibly wear him out.
I, Lot, am extraordinarily brave!
Come at me tonight, I won't let you rest.
Morgan heard every single word of this inner monologue.
Her expression shifted
a mix of fear and anticipation.
(Though mostly the latter.)
...
The next day, while everyone else was busy clearing the battlefield, King Lot and Queen Morgan took the day off.
Nobody thought much of it.
"They must be exhausted from yesterday's battle. Unlike us, who only fought with our bodies, Their Majesties had to command the entire war effort. And now, with Vortigern transforming into a demonic dragon, the pressure on them is even greater. Since the situation isn't urgent right now, we should let them rest."
"We can handle cleaning up the battlefield ourselves."
That's what Artoria and the others thought.
Not that they could be blamed.
After all, whether it was Artoria, Galahad, or the others, they were all untouched virgins.
And in this era, there was no such thing as that kind of education.
So these people genuinely had no idea what was going on.
Yes, Lot and Morgan were exhausted from yesterday's battle.
But the kind of battle they'd fought?
Not exactly the conventional sort.
And the physical exertion?
Far more intense.
They didn't feel like getting up today.
Or the next day.
By the third day, Lot and Morgan still hadn't left their chambers.
"Hmm… still understandable."
Artoria remained oblivious.
The cleanup could still be managed.
Yeah, it's fine.
Artoria patted her full stomach as she thought this.
The more she ate, the more work she had to do.
By tomorrow, King Lot should be back to work, right?
That's what she assumed.
But then, on the fourth day
Lot finally emerged from his room.
Only to grab a fishing rod and immediately head out of the city.
Earlier, he'd been eager to activate his cheat ability.
And now, on this fourth day of rest, he felt the call of the River of Time once more.
So, early in the morning, before anyone else was awake,
he slung his fishing gear over his shoulder and set off.
Time to fish.
He strode out with his head held high.
Artoria watched him go, her mouth slightly agape.
Your Majesty… what are you doing?
You're a diligent ruler!
King Lot, we just finished a war!
Do something productive!
She wanted to rush over and stop him.
But just as she was about to move,
Morgan noticed and quickly stepped in, tapping Artoria's shoulder armor.
"Hm? Queen Morgan, look King Lot is…"
Artoria turned, only to see Morgan standing there. She started to speak but was immediately cut off.
"I know. He's going to take care of something important."
Are you kidding me?
Him going fishing is important business.
Sure, it'd be great if he stayed in the castle to handle political affairs.
But right now, with the focus being on how to slay a dragon,
locking himself in his room to brood wouldn't accomplish anything.
Better to see what he can reel in this time.
So, go on.
Bring back some good loot.
Seeing her little sister about to interfere,
Morgan absolutely would not allow it.
Artoria stared at Morgan's serious expression, wide-eyed and speechless.
Queen Morgan, I know you and King Lot share the most loving relationship in the world.
But this?
This is just lying to his face!
He's clearly going fishing.
How is that important business?!
Artoria recalled a phrase Lot had once taught her during a casual conversation:
"Calling a deer a horse."
That's the only thing she could think of right now.
Morgan saw Artoria's expression and smirked.
"You don't believe me?"
"Ah… well…"
Artoria hesitated.
Saying she didn't believe it would be disloyal to her king.
But saying she did would be a betrayal of her own conscience!
"I see you're skeptical. How about a wager, then?"
Morgan grinned.
"If, when he returns, Lot brings back something that proves he wasn't wasting time, you lose. And if I'm right, you have to eat standard soldier rations for an entire week."
"But if I'm wrong, you can ask anything of me."
Artoria nodded firmly.
Though Morgan's bet was harsh,
she knew she wouldn't lose.
"Looks like our army's food supplies will last a bit longer, then," Morgan mused.
But inwardly, she fretted:
Lot, you better not let me down.
I refuse to lose to my little sister.
...
Lot had no idea of Morgan's expectations.
Carrying his fishing rod and tackle, he headed outside the castle.
There weren't any good fishing spots nearby.
In fact, Lot's whole getup looked downright bizarre.
But Lot wasn't actually planning to fish.
As a true angler, he knew the golden rule:
Never actually catch fish.
Scanning his surroundings, he confirmed no one was watching.
Then, he activated his system and stepped into the River of Time.
The river's waters seemed deeper than before.
With each victory, as Lot and Morgan's territory expanded,
the River of Time grew more profound, its currents stretching further.
This meant the treasures he could fish up would be even greater.
"Come on, give me something good. Antimatter cannons, black hole generators, megaton-yield nukes I'm not picky."
Lot grinned eagerly.
Setting up a small stool by the riverbank,
he cast his line with all his might.
"Here goes!"
Once the hook sank into the shimmering currents,
he began his usual ritual praying to every deity he could think of.
"Jesus Christ Messiah, Satan Judas Lucifer, Bubble Goat Nyarlathotep…"
As he chanted, he suddenly felt a powerful tug on the line.
"Heh. Big one this time."
Weight didn't always mean quality,
but it was rarely bad.
"Up you go!"
With a mighty heave, Lot yanked the rod upward
And dangling from the hook were two exquisitely crafted swords.
"Holy shit!"
Lot couldn't help but swear.
Not out of anger,
but sheer exhilaration.
Because this time,
he'd truly landed a legendary catch.
The two swords on his line
he recognized them instantly.
Unlike Joyeuse, which only appeared in an obscure Fate game,
these blades were iconic.
Excalibur.
Excalibur Galatine.
The holy swords meant for his sister-in-law and daughter.
And on Excalibur's blade?
Its sheath was still attached.