Subconscious habits are actually a very scary thing.
For example, right now.
Looking at Morgan and Artoria in front of him, Ian felt like he just couldn't move his gaze away from their chests.
This wasn't to say it was out of pure desire.
But rather—
He was used to doing it.
Just like how his mother, Tiamat, would always let him see her magnificent chest without any reservation.
Ian didn't think this was anything terrible.
It's just that the understanding in the human world didn't seem to be completely the same as his mother Tiamat's gentleness.
This kind of behavior, to them, seemed to be very difficult to accept.
As expected—
The outside world was completely different from the inside of the Sea of Life.
The descendant of the dragon, at this moment, grasped a bit more experience that he couldn't have obtained in the past.
It's just that...
At the same time, Morgan felt a bit puzzled.
She considered her perception to be quite sharp.
So when she discovered Ian's attention was constantly on her and Artoria's chests, Morgan's damn competitive spirit shot right up.
In any sense, her own chest should be far more alluring than Artoria's.
She was just a girl from the countryside, how could she have the charm of Camelot?
But reality gave Morgan a slap in the face.
To be precise, it was more like a slap followed by a kick.
That's right.
He did indeed look at both Artoria's chest and her own.
But!
The time ratio between them was actually seven to three.
Does this guy not understand beauty at all?!
How could he not look at the big and good ones, and instead look at the small and inferior ones?
Are his eyes broken?!
"Sister?"
Sensing the immense resentment emanating from Morgan, Artoria, in her knight-princess guise, carefully touched her hand.
"What's wrong?"
"..."
"Nothing."
Morgan immediately reined in her emotions.
"You, did you need something?"
"Um—"
Artoria took out the scroll of parchment that King Uther had given her.
It was like a map.
"The places recorded on here are where we should go, right?"
"Yes."
Morgan nodded.
"We just need to circle Britain and finally return to Camelot."
"You will definitely learn a lot along the way."
"Mm!"
Artoria nodded seriously.
"I will carefully record the things I encounter on the road!"
"..."
The more diligent Artoria appeared, the more Morgan felt a sharp pain in her heart.
That journey should have been hers, but now it had become the witness to Artoria's ascension to kingship.
What a tragic thing this was.
"This is for you."
Ian's voice interrupted Morgan's bitter thoughts.
He was seen handing a flower to Artoria.
"Eh?"
Taking the flower, the young woman was both a little happy and a little curious.
"Ian, where did you get this flower—"
"From the roadside."
"Because I thought it was very pretty, I picked it for you."
"Is that so?"
Artoria lightly sniffed the flower in her hand, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks.
"I didn't expect you to be so romantic sometimes. It seems you're not a complete idiot who only knows how to eat, eat, eat in bed—"
As soon as the words left her mouth, Artoria realized something was terribly wrong.
Because she was so happy to receive the flower, she hadn't realized at all that Morgan was right beside her when she spoke!
"Um, Sister, what I mean is..."
"You two seem to get along really well."
Before Artoria could finish explaining, Morgan spoke up first.
It was a slightly envious tone.
"Seeing something pretty and wanting to give it to the other person."
"That's not a habit that can be formed in just a couple of days."
"I..."
Morgan stopped halfway through her sentence.
Because she found that Ian's gaze had, at some point, shifted to her.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"For you."
Ian held another flower out to Morgan.
"..."
Morgan was stunned for a moment.
"I... have one too?"
"Mm."
"You, don't you like it?"
"..."
"It's alright—"
Morgan turned her face slightly, but her hand took the flower even more quickly than Artoria's had.
"But, it's not like I can't accept it."
"So everyone gets one."
Artoria looked at the flower in her hand.
"I thought you were..."
"Was what?"
"Nothing!" Artoria's cheeks flushed.
"Let's get going!"
The situation seemed to undergo a subtle change at that moment.
Morgan realized this was the first time she had ever received a flower.
Although it was just a wildflower from the roadside...
...it didn't feel cheap at all.
This guy, although he didn't really understand beauty, wasn't completely clueless either.
However—
Happiness was one thing.
Morgan had not forgotten why she had come along on this trip.
To complicate the relationship between Artoria and Ian, so that she could logically make this sister who had stolen her throne an enemy of Tiamat.
And the reason would be...
"The bad woman who seduced your son."
Such opportunities would definitely not be few.
Morgan could feel that the way Ian looked at Artoria, and the way Artoria looked at Ian, were not as simple as one might imagine.
They were just missing a little something.
She just needed to give them that final push.
Thinking of this, looking at the flower in her hand, although Morgan felt it was a bit of a pity, she still tucked it into her clothes and didn't look at it again.
Compared to so-called admiration, the Britain under her feet was more important.
After that, they traveled in silence.
Occasionally there were a few words of conversation between Artoria and Ian, but they ended quickly.
Following the map on the parchment, at sunset, the group arrived at a village.
It's just that...
Looking at the scene before her, Artoria couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath.
Although it was a village, not a blade of grass grew, and not a single thing that could be called food was in sight.
Everywhere, one could see villagers lying by the roadside, waiting for death because they couldn't get enough to eat.
They didn't seem to even have the strength to lift a hand, letting them hang limply.
The air seemed to be filled with an aura of despair.
"How could it be like this..."
The smile on Artoria's face vanished in an instant.
She had never expected that the first stop of her journey would be such a tragic situation.
The girlish thoughts of bickering with Ian over small gains and losses had now completely disappeared.
All that remained was a heart that pounded fiercely with worry over this matter.
That's right.
This was not some pleasure trip.
But rather—
The bitterness of teaching her to recognize the current state of Britain.
"Ian!"
"Come over here, quickly!"