The battle was over.
Even as Alvin left the training grounds, Scáthach was still standing there, mentally shattered by what had happened.
Only after an unknown amount of time did she finally snap out of it.
She twisted her head sharply toward the exit of the training field, toward the boy who was just about to leave as a suffocating frustration simmered inside her.
If it weren't for her pride and her own standards, anyone else in her place would have definitely asked Alvin one thing:
'Are you fucking kidding me?'
Who the hell calls for external help during a duel?!
Even if that Tiamat wasn't her true body, even her manifested copy was already overwhelmingly powerful.
Add Alvin standing there, watching her like a hungry predator… calling it a "solo duel" was pure nonsense. I
It was absolutely a 1v2.
But she couldn't even complain—because technically, he really did "call Mom" with his own power. That was part of his authority.
Just then, the boy who had reached the doorway suddenly stopped and turned around, giving her a warm, dazzling smile.
"You'll keep your word, won't you, Miss Scáthach?"
"You really are the most shameless man in all of Britain, Alvin!"
Scáthach spoke through clenched teeth, suppressing her rage.
The latter only chuckled in response.
After all, the White Dragon was literally the "Despicable King."
Being a little underhanded fit the title perfectly.
Besides, calling "Mom" was just one of his powers.
It wasn't against the rules.
Leaving the training grounds, Alvin followed a small path back to the Hall of Kings.
The Round Table meeting had ended not long ago.
It was late at night, yet Artoria was still alone in the hall, working.
Perhaps due to the lack of proper rest lately, she had fallen asleep on the table.
Her proud, full chest was pressed directly against the desk.
Her long golden hair was tied up, a few locks falling around her noble and beautiful face.
Under the warm lamplight, her pale, delicate skin seemed to glow faintly.
Alvin approached quietly and glanced at the documents on the desk.
The writing detailed the recent escalation of tension between the Huns and Britain along the border.
Clearly, after learning of Attila's connection to the "Star Soldier," Artoria had begun sensing abnormal movements from the Hun Empire.
While conflict between the two nations wasn't unusual, it had never been this frequent… nor had the Huns ever been so active in provoking Britain.
All of this was likely tied to the starship that descended from beyond the sky.
Its owner, "the Hunter of Civilizations"—was also the current king of the Huns: Attila.
She was testing Britain's limits, inch by inch… because her purpose was to eventually devour Britain's civilization.
Thinking this, Alvin couldn't help but complain inwardly.
'This little dark-skinned Attila sure thinks a lot… She's probing Britain's overall strength. If Britain keeps enduring it, the next move the Huns make might be a full-blown invasion.'
Sensing a presence nearby, Artoria furrowed her brows slightly and slowly opened her eyes.
She lifted her head, and her saintly blue-green eyes reflected the young man standing before her.
For a moment, her expression was dazed, then surprise flickered across her face.
"When did you come in?"
"Just now. The guards recognize me already. I told them not to disturb your rest."
Alvin said, giving her another quick look.
Even with the Red Dragon's formidable regenerative power, the fatigue on her face was obvious.
The Red Dragon could heal the body, but mental exhaustion couldn't always be solved through sheer physical strength.
"You look really tired. Is it because of the 'Star Soldier' matter?"
Alvin asked softly.
However, Artoria shook her head and said, "You don't need to worry about this. I talked it over with the others today. After this, I'll send someone to the border to confirm whether the leader of the Hun Empire is really the 'Star Soldier,' and to find out what their intentions are."
Easier said than done, meeting Attila wasn't something just anyone could do.
After a brief moment of silence, Alvin spoke up. "Let me go to the border."
"No!"
Artoria immediately rejected his proposal without hesitation.
Alvin had already left once before, and she was deeply afraid that if he went to the border again, he might never come back.
"But right now, in all of Britain, the only ones who can go to the border and be confident they'll return alive… are you and me, right?" Alvin said with a faint smile.
"You're King Arthur. You can't leave the royal capital so easily. That makes me the best choice."
Artoria frowned slightly, still hesitant. "But if you leave, we might not have enough manpower to keep things stable within Britain…"
"I just invited someone to join the Round Table today,"
Alvin said casually. "With her strength, maintaining order in Britain shouldn't be a problem."
Artoria blinked, taken aback. "Who?"
"Scáthach," Alvin replied with a smile.
Artoria's eyes flickered with surprise...after all, she remembered that name.
The Queen of Shadows...to be honest, she was indeed qualified but, why would someone like Scáthach agree to join the Round Table…?
Before she could ask, Alvin continued, "Then it's decided. And you should really get some rest, too. With me and your elder sister both here in the palace, you don't need to carry everything on your own anymore."
As he spoke, he extended his hand toward her. "It's already late. Come on, go get some rest first."
"Remind me again, am I the King, or are you?"
Artoria gave him a helpless look.
She was King Arthur, after all, yet there were so many times when Alvin simply refused to listen to her.
In moments like this, it almost felt as if he was the one making the decisions.
But Artoria knew how stubborn he was, once he made up his mind, there was no changing it. So, after a short silence, she gave a quiet nod.
"…Be careful when you get to the Hun Empire."
As she spoke, she reached out and clasped his hand.
For a heartbeat, she froze, looking at his warm, gentle, unwavering gaze.
Feeling that steady look on her, her calm and dignified face flickered with a trace of panic.
She turned her head aside, pretending to ignore it, yet didn't pull her hand away as he gently led her out of the Hall of Kings.
By the lakeside within the royal palace.
A young woman in shining silver armor sat by the edge of the water, her elegant figure reflected on the still surface.
One hand propped against her cheek, the other idly tossed small pebbles into the lake with a bored expression.
Not far behind her stood a brightly lit magic workshop.
"Why does Mother love making all these strange potions so much…?"
Mordred muttered to herself with a sigh, glancing lazily toward the workshop.
She had been cooped up in the palace for so long that she was beginning to feel like she might actually get sick from the boredom.
To this rebellious knight, the royal palace felt no different from a gilded cage.
If it had been just a short stay, she could have tolerated it but lately, she hadn't stepped outside the palace at all.
Either she was standing guard for Morgan, or holed up in her own quarters chatting idly with that little girl Rin Tohsaka.
Beyond that, she had absolutely nothing else to do.
It was unbearable.
Just as she flicked another pebble into the lake, her eyes caught two figures walking along the path by the water.
Her gaze sharpened slightly, and a strange look flickered across her face.
Father and Mother…?
At this hour?
Were they heading back to rest together?
"Little Mo."
A soft, lazy, and alluring voice drifted from the direction of the workshop.
Mordred stiffened slightly.
At once, she turned and entered the workshop, where she saw Morgan le Fay.
The witch of Britain looked as stunning as ever—dressed in an exquisitely designed gown, her long platinum-gold hair cascading over her shoulders.
She held a vial of freshly mixed potion in one hand.
Seated elegantly on a chair, one long and shapely leg crossed over the other, the heel of her high shoe tapped gently against the floor, making a crisp, rhythmic sound that filled the quiet workshop.
Mordred's eyes instinctively drifted toward the potion in Morgan's hand. "That's what you've been working on these past few days?"
Morgan responded with a soft hum. "It's something similar to an Assassin's 'Presence Concealment.' The stronger the user, the higher the level of concealment it grants."
Mordred frowned slightly. "Why are you researching something like that all of a sudden…?" Then, she hesitated and asked, "Did you call me here for something?"
"The Round Table meeting today, what was the conclusion?"
Morgan's voice remained calm and melodious, but there was a weight to it...a subtle pressure that made even the defiant Mordred unconsciously straighten up, sitting as if she were a well-behaved student.
Mordred lowered her head slightly. "King Arthur believes we should first confirm whether the leader of the Hun Empire is really the so-called 'Star Soldier.' So she plans to send someone to the border to investigate."
"Has the candidate been decided?"
Morgan asked lightly.
Mordred hesitated, then said, "Not yet… but I think Father and Mother might decide tonight…"
The moment she finished, her expression froze, and she instinctively shut her mouth.
But Morgan had already caught the hint in her words. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she turned her gaze toward her daughter, lips curling into a knowing smile. "So… he's at Lily's place tonight, hm?"
Gulp—
Mordred swallowed nervously.
Though she wanted to say something to cover for herself, the calm yet penetrating look in her mother's eyes made her give up and simply nod.
The instant she nodded, Morgan rose gracefully from her chair and walked straight out.
Mordred panicked. "Wait—where are you going?!"
But before her words could even reach, Morgan was already out of the workshop, her elegant figure heading decisively toward Artoria's chambers.
Mordred stood frozen in the doorway, watching her mother's silhouette fade into the night, muttering weakly, "Crap… I really didn't mean to…"
.
.
.
Artoria's bedchamber.
The air was dim and warm, the lighting soft and intimate.
Armor lay scattered messily across the floor… along with a golden crown.
The golden-haired woman reclined on the bed, her white silk nightgown draped loosely over her body, hem stopping just above her knees, revealing smooth, flawless legs.
The top button of her gown was undone, her neckline exposing a generous, regal curve, the very embodiment of what it meant to be a "king."
Her gaze softened as she looked at the young boy in her arms — Alvin.
Because he had drawn the Sword in the Stone, he had reverted to his fifteen- or sixteen-year-old appearance, far more youthful than the mature and noble King of Knights before him.
Yet at this moment, she allowed his hands to wander freely.
Her cheeks were flushed, eyes flickering with both shyness… and an excitement she could not hide.
Alvin's hands rested on her shoulders, about to guide her gently back onto the white bed.
"Wait…" She suddenly reached out, stopping him.
Lily are you playing hard to get now? Alvin blinked at the thought. "What's wrong?"
Artoria stole a glance at him, then whispered softly, "I've been working all day… I should at least take a bath first."
"You smell fine… really, there's no need," Alvin sighed helplessly.
He didn't have any special fetishes but he really wasn't lying.
To be fair, perhaps because of her Red Dragon constitution, or something more divine, Artoria carried a faint, natural fragrance.
Even without bathing, she still smelled divine.
But seriously… I'm ready to go, and now you say that?
"Still… wait for me, okay?"
After saying that, she slipped off the bed, bare feet padding quietly toward the bathroom.
Lily really is shy about this stuff, huh…
Alvin thought, smiling faintly as he watched her disappear.
Though, that might just be one of the things that made her adorable.
He lay back, mind wandering through recent chaos... the Holy Grail War, Beast's invasion, and now the matter with the Huns.
If the Hunnic Empire's leader truly was "the Giant God Attila"… that'd be trouble.
No wonder Gaia wanted to pull me in. It probably knew something about what's coming.
As he thought so, a soft, warm body suddenly embraced him from behind.
"You're back already? That was fast."
Alvin chuckled inwardly, amused.
I didn't expect Lily to be this impatient… so she's got a hidden side after all.
Smiling, he turned and wrapped his arms around the figure behind him—
—and then froze.
Wait… that feeling isn't right.
And she's still wearing clothes?
A dozen thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant.
Alvin lifted his head sharply....and was greeted by a woman in a luxurious gown, a thin veil covering her face.
Her eyes, bright and sharp, gleamed with amusement as she teased, "Looks like my potion worked perfectly… You didn't even notice me, did you?"
The sound of running water still echoed faintly from the nearby bathroom.
Alvin's expression grew wonderfully complicated as he stared at the veiled enchantress before him.
"…Sister Morgan?!"