Lot had Morgan lie down to rest first while he went to check on Agravain.
"Come, let me take a look at little Agravain."
He took Agravain from the nurse's arms.
Gawain, at this moment, wanted to hold him as well, but Lot stopped her.
With her complete lack of experience and her strength enough to crush steel barehanded if she were to hold Agravain, even the slightest carelessness could lead to the little one's untimely demise.
For the future of Britain, for someone to share the burden of governance in the years to come
Agravain had to be protected carefully.
Since Lot had prior experience holding baby Gawain, he handled little Agravain with practiced ease.
Looking at the newborn in his arms though not exactly pretty at first glance
[At least he looks better than that bitter, resentful version of himself later!]
Lot thought to himself.
Morgan, hearing this, quietly took note.
If both she and that husband of hers were still alive, and Agravain still ended up like that, then the fault wouldn't lie with Agravain himself but with her.
That was absolutely unacceptable.
Morgan thought firmly.
Then, she stretched out her hand and beckoned to Lot:
"Come, bring Agravain here. Let me see him."
"Mm."
Lot carried Agravain over and handed him to Morgan.
"Even seeing it a second time, I still think newborns are truly ugly!"
Morgan couldn't help but frown slightly as she looked at Agravain.
"Come now, all babies are like this. If he were born already handsome, he'd be Nezha," Lot said helplessly.
Just then, Artoria walked in, immediately asking Morgan with concern:
"Big Sister Morgan, how are you feeling?"
"Relax, Mom's fine, Auntie," Gawain said casually to Artoria, reaching out to pat her aunt's shoulder.
However, misjudging the distance, she stumbled forward and nearly lost her balance.
Watching this, Artoria's expression twisted slightly.
Even though it's Gawain who tripped… why do I feel like I'm the one being mocked here?
Artoria felt an inexplicable sense of humiliation.
But
This feeling wasn't so bad either.
Artoria looked at Morgan lying on the bed and smiled brightly.
Now,
her family had grown even larger.
Before, there was her foster father and her sworn brother. Now, she also had her birth sister, her brother-in-law, and two nieces and nephews.
What more could she ask for?
As for becoming king…
"If I were to become king, I'd probably just lead the armies in endless conquest. Even if I achieved the same victories as Big Sister Morgan, I wouldn't be able to build the nation to this state. So, it's better left to her."
Artoria thought to herself.
That holy spear she would only draw it when truly needed.
Being a king wasn't about relying on a weapon, but on the ability to rule a nation.
Meanwhile, in the northern reaches of Scotland, a lone figure trekked through the dense forest.
It was Lancelot, the same man who had once met Melusine and directed her to seek out Morgan.
Back then, he had watched as the fairies clashed with Camelot's army, stepping in to slay a few fairies himself. But when the war escalated, he had no desire to aid Lot and Morgan in Camelot, so he simply headed north into Scotland.
Compared to southern England, the people here were fiercer, more battle-hungry, and obsessed with strength.
And the land teemed with even more Phantasmal Species.
Lancelot loved it here.
This was the perfect place to temper his strength.
And so, he began his trials anew.
Facing all manner of phantasmal beasts, he fought relentlessly.
With each monster slain, Lancelot grew stronger and his reputation spread.
In the wilds of Scotland, his name became known far and wide.
Even kings sought him out, hoping to enlist his aid.
But he refused them all.
Lancelot sought only redemption and the truth.
He would defeat every challenger,
and he would find proof of Galahad's identity.
If there were no doubts, then he would shoulder his responsibilities without hesitation.
"There shouldn't be any powerful magical beasts left in this forest, right? Or rather, have I already challenged every strong warrior in Scotland? Well, except for that woman."
Lancelot thought of the legends surrounding the Queen of the Land of Shadows, his expression tinged with wariness.
During his time in Scotland, he had heard countless tales of her.
And he knew that, a few years prior, she had appeared by Morgan's side, instructing Lot, Galahad, and others in swordsmanship.
"I wonder how I'd fare against her if we met."
He pondered.
As he mused, he realized he was nearly out of the forest. He gripped his sword, ready to cut through the remaining foliage
But just as he moved, a sudden gust of wind rushed toward him.
Except
It wasn't coming from around him.
But from above?
The sky?
Lancelot looked up.
"Ah !!"
"Mister below, watch out!"
Two girls were descending rapidly atop what looked like a shield or perhaps a dining table used as a makeshift landing pad.
His face twisted in bewilderment.
What the hell?
Since when did girls fall from the sky?
Seeing that their only concern was whether they'd hit someone below and not their own safety Lancelot deduced they'd be fine. So, he sidestepped slightly.
Letting them land undisturbed.
BOOM!
They hit the ground.
A cloud of dust erupted.
Then, one girl helped the other out of the settling debris.
"Hello, good sir wait, you're !"