The rain stopped.
Crystal clear droplets hung from the flowers and grass on either side of the road.
Inside a tavern somewhere in Camelot.
Artoria pushed open the window.
She cupped her cheeks, looking out at the street below, which had been washed clean by the heavy rain.
"This rain, it's been falling for so long..."
It was just as Artoria said.
Yesterday, right after she had used the sound of the thunder to properly "scold" Ian, the rain had started to pour down not long after.
And it had continued to fall until the next day.
"Mm."
"It has been a long time."
"..."
Artoria turned her head and looked at the boy sitting on the bed behind her.
Yesterday, in a rare display, he hadn't made a move on her when the two of them were alone.
But this, in turn, made Artoria a little worried.
"What's wrong with you?"
"You've been like this since yesterday."
"Are you not feeling well?"
Artoria sat back down beside Ian.
"If you are..."
"How about we go see a doctor first?"
"Is this what's called concern?" Ian suddenly blurted out.
"Artoria, are you concerned about me?"
"..."
His gaze, so close she could almost touch it, made the young woman's cheeks begin to feel hot.
However, she quickly nodded.
"That's right!"
"Is there a problem with me being worried about you?"
"You said we were friends, didn't you!"
"Friends... of course have that kind of obligation!"
"..."
"..."
The atmosphere became silent in that moment.
Artoria didn't feel she had said anything wrong, but she couldn't find a way to break the silence.
"I heard my mother's crying."
Ian suddenly said.
"She... seems to be crying."
"Should I not have left her?"
"Eh?"
When the thunder had first started, Artoria had actually heard Ian say something similar.
She had originally thought it was just a fleeting feeling of his, but she hadn't expected that not to be the case.
After thinking hard for a while, Artoria took Ian's hand.
"That's not it at all."
"First of all, who knows if that was really her crying?"
"Didn't you want to see the outside world?"
"Then, it's impossible to stay by your mother's side forever, right?"
"Although I don't know what kind of being your mother is, but—"
"If she really loves you, she would surely understand your actions, wouldn't she?"
"Mm! She definitely would!"
After Artoria finished speaking with a serious expression, she realized that the situation seemed a little off.
Ian was staring intently at her.
"What... do you want to do?"
"I have my limits!" The young woman covered her chest with both hands.
"You smell so good—"
Ian hugged Artoria.
"Every time after I talk with you, that feeling of wanting to eat you becomes even stronger."
"You..."
"That's not..."
"This..."
Artoria didn't know how to respond.
If someone else had said that, she felt she would definitely have slapped them across the face.
Only with him, there was this very subtle feeling, one she didn't know how to describe.
And besides...
Eating...
It felt like he had done quite a bit of that already...
"Can you eat later?"
Artoria turned her face to the side and said cautiously.
"Today, I want to go and see that sword."
"..."
"Okay," the boy nodded.
"Eh?"
Ian's prompt reply was a little surprising to Artoria.
But on second thought—
It seemed there was no problem.
He had always cared a lot about her, hadn't he?
"Mm, let's go!"
A dozen or so minutes later, in the square of Camelot.
"Um—"
"So many people."
Artoria looked at the knights who had impenetrably surrounded the Sword of Selection and stopped in her tracks.
Artoria was not the only one with designs on the throne of Britain.
After all, becoming king just by pulling out a sword was obviously a very tempting prospect.
Of course.
The failures, naturally, came one after another.
However happy they were on the way up, was however dejected they were on the way down.
That, more or less, affected Artoria's state of mind.
"You are different from them."
"Hm?"
Artoria looked at Ian beside her.
"Different?"
"Mm," the boy nodded.
"They smell very faint."
"But Artoria, you smell so good—"
"So, you are different."
"This..."
A strange feeling of being touched rose in Artoria's heart.
However, she quickly shook her head.
"There's nothing different about us."
"We..."
"Are all Britons."
"But, thank you anyway, Ian."
"You..."
The young woman's face blushed slightly.
"Your scent, to me, smells very good too."
"..."
Ian stared at Artoria, until their noses were almost touching.
"Then you—"
"Then I..."
"Then are you going to eat me?"
"..."
"Who wants to eat you!" Artoria grumbled.
But, thinking that this was also Ian's normal way of communicating, the young woman sighed helplessly.
Looking at the packed scene of sword-pulling, she felt even more that she had come at the wrong time.
"There are so many people."
"Why don't we come back tomorrow instead."
"No."
"Your wish, if it's to become king, then even if it's just for one day, you should strive for it, right?"
"..."
Artoria sensed that something was amiss.
But it seemed to be a little too late.
Ian grabbed Artoria's hand and then began to stride forward.
"Excuse me—"
He said to the knights in front of him.
Of course, such a request would naturally not be accepted.
But when the knight Ian had asked to move aside turned his head, what he saw was a pair of blood-red eyes.
No more words, only a terrifying gaze.
It was as if it was saying:
"Death, or moving aside, pick one."
The answer, of course, was self-evident.
"Please, go ahead."
The knight made way.
And Ian, without any politeness, pulled Artoria forward through the crowd.
Leaving the extremely embarrassed latter to leave behind an apology:
"Um, my Ian doesn't know any better!"
"I'm really sorry!"
The dragon's deterrence was on full display at this moment.
Artoria, who had originally been on the absolute outskirts, reached the front in just a few minutes.
The Sword of Selection, forged from gold, having been washed by the rain, was now shining brilliantly under the sunlight.
Dream and reality, intertwined in this moment.
Mustering her courage—
No longer hesitating—
Artoria reached her hand towards the Sword of Selection.
She could feel that between herself and it, there was some kind of inseparable connection.
The blade, it was moving.
However...
Zzz—
Zzz—
The moment the young woman touched the sword, a sinister black light flashed and vanished.
Something's wrong!
Something is pulling on this sword!