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Approximately half an hour ago, in a gloomy hall, a woman sat quietly on a throne. "Are the preparations complete?" she asked the man standing before her.
The man, clad in armor, with slicked-back hair and a handsome face, maintained a gloomy expression. He bowed slightly and said, "They have been placed in the room."
"Very good, you may withdraw, Sir Agravain," Artoria, or rather, the Lion King, said.
"Yes." Agravain turned and left the palace. Before leaving, his steps paused slightly. "My King, may I presume to ask a question?"
"Speak."
"...Who exactly do you intend to summon?" He looked at the Lance of the Forefront, which symbolized kingship.
"Is there still a need to ask?" The Lion King smiled, raising her emerald eyes. "Of course, it's King Arthur."
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Asher sat quietly on the head of the bed, resembling a bride waiting to be wed. Although he had just fought an enemy like a descending god, he was now as listless as a dried fish, his gaze slowly surveying the surroundings, looking utterly idle.
Asher was certain that this was a very enclosed room. When he opened his eyes, he saw nothing, just complete darkness, probably due to magic or some other means blocking out the light. Undoubtedly, the other party must have summoned him as a White Dragon or a divine being. Logically, divine beings should be difficult to summon, but if it was a divine being with a normal spiritual foundation, it seemed there would be no problem.
"What exactly is going on now?" Asher couldn't help but murmur. He had originally wanted to commit suicide and return, since what was summoned now was just his clone. As long as the clone died, his main body would naturally awaken. However, after careful consideration, he abandoned that plan.
Currently, the one holding him in the room was Artoria, known as the "Lion King," but she seemed to have no past memories, probably due to the influence of the Holy Lance, her personality having become a new entity. If nothing unexpected happened, this was likely a possibility derived from a future Britain, meaning Artoria fully deified under the influence of the Holy Lance, becoming the goddess named Rhongomyniad. He felt it was necessary to understand the ins and outs of the situation. Perhaps by resolving this singularity, he could also preemptively rewrite such a future, preventing Lily from becoming the Lion King in the end.
But... what exactly did the current Lion King want? It couldn't possibly be that she really intended to make him her Queen, could it? It was impossible to think so; there must be some other purpose. He had to figure out her purpose first before implementing the next step of the plan. For now, he would just wait for her to arrive here. Asher closed his eyes, and his vision returned to darkness.
At this moment, in the capital of Britain, Artoria stood quietly at Asher's door, her thoughts swirling. The Holy Lance had been put back. She was now wondering whether to enter the room, but also feared waking Tiamat.
"Lily?" At this moment, Uathach's voice suddenly came from behind. Artoria's body trembled, then slowly relaxed.
"Oh, it's you. Next time, don't approach so silently, it's dangerous," Artoria said. Under normal circumstances, if someone approached her like that, she would instinctively counterattack, as she wouldn't know if they were friend or foe.
"I know, but I already called you twice, you just didn't hear me because you were spacing out, right?" Uathach said, pushing the purple hair off her shoulder. "Mom told me that Ash is back?"
"Yes, but he was just taken into the room and hasn't come out yet," Artoria said.
"Taken in... you mean that woman? The one called the Genesis God?" Uathach said. Seeing Artoria nod gently, Uathach mumbled, "I really don't know what my brother is doing. The women around him are getting older and older, and this one is the most exaggerated. I don't even know how old she actually is."
"They have a very ordinary mother-son relationship," Artoria explained.
"You actually believe that?!" Uathach widened her eyes, sighing softly. "Lily, do you really think so? Do you really think Tiamat and my brother have just an ordinary mother-son relationship? Does that woman just simply treat him as a child?"
"...I think so, right?"
"You're wrong," Uathach shook her head gently. "Let me ask you, what is the relationship between Ash and my mom?"
"Shishou and apprentice."
"Are there any other special relationships?"
Artoria: "..." Why did Uathach's pointing this out make her feel that every woman around Asher was unsafe? And now they were even sleeping in the same room. Tiamat was making Asher sleep with her?
"Let's go in and take a look?" Uathach tempted. "Maybe we'll see something interesting?" Artoria immediately felt there was some truth to this. Her earlier hesitation about secretly opening the door to look immediately solidified. Her hand rested on the door, about to open it.
Just then, a ghostly voice drifted from behind. "What are you two doing?"
Artoria turned to look. The white-haired mage was standing behind her, leaning on his staff. "Merlin?!" Artoria was stunned. "Why do you look so out of breath? Did something happen?"
"Nothing, nothing, just a bit tired from running all the way back. Let me catch my breath and rest for a bit," Merlin said with a smile. "By the way, what are you two doing?" He asked, looking at Asher's door.
"We're about to go in and see what the Genesis Mother Goddess looks like, and if she's secretly doing anything to Ash."
"Oh, I see!" Merlin looked enlightened. "I'll go in with you two." So, the three of them pushed open the door and quietly walked into the room.
Tiamat was currently hugging Asher. Although covered by the quilt, it was easy to imagine that Tiamat was probably gripping one of Asher's legs with her soft thighs, her chin resting on Asher's head, so that Asher's face was nestled against her chest. It truly looked like a mother coaxing her child to sleep.
"It seems they really are just sleeping," Uathach whispered softly.
"Mm," Artoria also nodded gently, her initial worries easing. It seemed her earlier concerns were unnecessary. After all, she was the Genesis Mother Goddess; how could she possibly have any romantic feelings for her own child? This was just a pure expression of a mother's love for her child, although their current sleeping posture was indeed quite ambiguous.
Meanwhile, Merlin, after observing for a moment, suddenly murmured to himself, "Hmm... how strange."
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