Naturally, what Morgan referred to as "sincerity" simply meant allowing her to understand Chaldea's current situation.
Since there was no sign of hostility—and Habetrot, accompanying Morgan, had openly identified herself as a diplomatic envoy—Sakura, though hesitant, led Morgan through the Shadow Border, explaining their circumstances and how they had entered Britannia. That was enough to satisfy Morgan's request.
Fortunately, Morgan showed no interest in heading to the offshore area to board the Storm Border, a decision that let everyone breathe a sigh of relief. It wasn't secrecy they feared, but rather the question of how to explain all this to the crew still on board.
"I see. For now, I'll assume you bear no ill will." Morgan turned her gaze toward Sakura. "Your name is Sakura Shiomi, correct?"
Sakura blinked. "Yes, that's right—"
She hadn't introduced herself, yet Morgan already knew her name.
"As for your current communication issues, I can't resolve them—not here, at least," Morgan said. "If you intend to act within Britannia, it would be best to come to Camelot and meet me first."
Habetrot then grinned proudly. "This might surprise you, but the Morgan you're seeing now is just a duplicate—a copy almost identical to the original!"
However, instead of shock, everyone merely exchanged knowing looks—as if they had expected as much.
"If we go to Camelot as promised, will Her Majesty the Queen provide us with aid and support?" Scáthach asked, her tone edged with mild irony.
Morgan didn't answer right away. "What happens after that," she said evenly, "depends on whether you bring calamity to Britannia—or become my enemies."
Her answer fit well enough with the group's values. And given that she was Morgan—and, more importantly, showed no hostility—they agreed there was no avoiding a visit to Camelot.
"But this coast is covered in a cursed fog," Scáthach pointed out. "If we're to reach Camelot, we'll need to circle around and land somewhere the curse doesn't reach."
Morgan glanced back at the dense mist. "That's true. This fog carries a curse unavoidable for ordinary fairies. Among you, perhaps only a few could safely pass through the 'Nameless Forest' and the 'Fog of Oblivion.'"
As she spoke, she raised one hand. A mirror-like portal appeared in midair, large enough for the Storm Border to pass through.
Gracefully taking a seat atop the armored vehicle, Morgan gestured for them to depart. Da Vinci returned to the cockpit, set the controls, and drove forward. Once the vehicle passed through the water-like mirror, they found themselves on a plain with a road stretching ahead.
The armored car rumbled across the desolate grasslands at forty kilometers per hour.
Standing in the driver's compartment without sitting down, Morgan watched the scenery through the onboard instruments. It reminded her of the wooden all-terrain Magecraft vehicle they had once used during their journeys long ago.
So this concept came from Proper Human History, she mused silently.
Despite having only just met, Habetrot had already warmed up to Mash and Ritsuka, chatting cheerfully with them.
"Is it just me," Artoria asked, "or does Britannia's land... look like it's been scarred by war?"
"Your instincts are correct," Morgan replied, glancing at her. "This land has only just emerged from a war that lasted two thousand years. It's now in a peculiar period known as the 'Seventeen Years of Peace.'"
"Two thousand years?" Even Scáthach looked astonished.
Not even she could imagine a war lasting that long without pause. By all logic, Britannia should have been reduced to barren earth ages ago.
"And yet," Artoria continued, "you, who lived through it, don't seem particularly moved. As if this outcome was... inevitable."
Morgan didn't answer. She simply watched the passing scenery on the monitor, her expression calm and unreadable.
It was clear she had no intention of revealing more until they reached Camelot.
"Forget it. Understanding this Britannia's situation is part of our mission anyway. As long as you don't oppose or obstruct us, that's enough, Queen Morgan," Scáthach said. "Before that, though, I—or rather, we—want to ask you about someone. We're not sure if he's here in this Britannia."
"Someone, you say?" Morgan's eyes narrowed slightly; she already had a suspicion about who Scáthach meant.
"His name is Tenkei Shiomi," Artoria said after a short pause. "He's... well, an extraordinary man." She hesitated for a heartbeat before choosing simple honesty over flowery praise. "He's our comrade from Chaldea—and Sakura's father."
Morgan's brow arched almost imperceptibly. More than the mention of Shiomi, what caught her attention was the subtle emotion that colored both Artoria's and Scáthach's voices when they spoke his name.
That emotion was something she understood all too well.
Because it was the same as her own.
Could it be—
"What? Shiomi is your comrade? Seriously?" Habetrot exclaimed in disbelief. "That guy's been by Morgan's side for six thousand years! Are you sure you're not mistaken?"
"Six thousand years?" A soft smile crossed Scáthach's face, a hint of fondness behind her composure. "Then there's no doubt."
No matter how he came to this world six millennia ago, the sheer span of that time left only one possibility in her mind—her disciple, the one she cherished above all others.
"Tenkei... he's really here." Artoria exhaled, her long-held tension easing at last.
She had feared that Shiomi might not be in this Lostbelt at all—that he might have been taken by the Alien God or the Crypters to another world, perhaps somewhere even harder to reach.
"Yes," Morgan said slowly, "Tenkei Shiomi is indeed here. But he isn't with me right now."
"Right now?" Scáthach caught the nuance immediately, connecting it to what Morgan had said earlier. "Don't tell me—the other side of this two-thousand-year war you mentioned... is my disciple?"
"...Truly worthy of being my husband's master. You see through things far too well," Morgan replied, her tone laced with faint irony and something more complicated beneath it.
She flicked her wrist lightly, the soft fabric of her sleeves and veil swaying with the motion.
"Did you two have a fight?" Sakura asked, unable to hide her concern.
"It's... more complicated than that," Morgan answered.
"Then where is Tenkei now?" Artoria pressed at once.
"What difference would it make if you knew? Do you plan to go see him immediately?" Morgan's tone carried a hint of irritation.
"If we were to split up—one group following you to Camelot, and the other going to meet your enemy—would that count as playing both sides?" Scáthach countered sharply, throwing the question back at her.
Morgan gave a faint, knowing smile. "A fine question... and one that sounds far too much like something he would say."
Then, lowering her gaze, she let out a quiet, almost inaudible sigh.
...