"The King does indeed need her own knights."
"I absolutely support this point."
"The knights must be strong enough to be able to protect the King."
"I support this point as well."
"But the problem is—"
In the King's castle, Merlin, who had assisted Artoria with King Uther's funeral just a few days prior, spoke thus:
"Why must it be this person who becomes the First Knight?"
Merlin had not forgotten being ruthlessly beaten by this person the moment they first met.
It was something that could no longer be explained by normal reasoning.
The boy, who had met him in the dreamscape, seemed to feel a physiological revulsion for him.
"Do not ask about things that are not for you to ask."
A slight blush was on Artoria's face.
But she gave Merlin no explanation.
"In any case, what must be done for him to logically become one of my Knights of the Round Table?"
"Then perhaps—"
"It cannot be as the King wishes."
"What do you mean?"
Artoria looked at Merlin.
"Do you not support it?"
"My King, my opinion is not important at all," Merlin answered.
"You must understand."
"Ian's reputation in Camelot is not very good."
"If you want to recruit him as a Knight of the Round Table, I'm afraid it won't be something that's easily accepted."
"..."
Artoria recalled the illicit affair on the throne.
It was with great difficulty that she got him to nod in agreement.
How could I possibly give up just like that...
"Then what if I insist on him becoming the First Knight of the order?"
"No one will oppose you, my King."
"But whether this is a good thing for him, that is not certain."
Merlin shrugged.
"My King, you must decide for yourself."
"..."
"What you say also makes sense."
Artoria grasped Caliburn, the Sword of Promised Victory.
"Then—"
The young King's gaze grew sharp.
"For now, spread the news of the formation of the Round Table throughout all of Camelot."
"Consider it a chance for everyone to step out from the shadow of the former king's passing."
"Very well."
Merlin nodded.
However, a thought was nagging at him internally.
If the Artoria he had first met in the dream was simple, kind, and very easy to deceive...
Then the Artoria before him now was clearly much more opinionated.
No.
It was beyond just being opinionated; one could say she had a rather unique way of thinking now.
I have a feeling...
A king that surpasses all expectations may be born in Camelot.
Artoria's words spread throughout Camelot within a few days.
For the knights, this was undoubtedly a morale-boosting message.
The reason was simple:
To become a Knight of the Round Table was to be personally acknowledged by Artoria as being more outstanding than the other knights.
It was an honor, something to be proud of.
"I will become a Knight of the Round Table!"
Even the children playing in the streets and alleys would wield wooden swords, mimicking the actions of the adults and shouting such words.
It was as if Camelot was boiling with excitement.
It was a situation just like when the prophecy of the Sword in the Stone first appeared.
Camelot Castle.
A certain room.
After personally hearing her sister Artoria and Ian engage in that illicit affair in the throne room, Morgan had no intention of standing idly by.
First, she moved out of the room she had been staying in from the beginning.
Her new residence was right next to Ian's.
Incidentally, it was also directly across the hall from Artoria's room.
That's right.
Morgan admitted she was doing it on purpose.
But—
Who would dare say there was a problem with it?
She was indeed the eldest daughter who had been abandoned by King Uther, but in any case, she still held a status far higher than that of an ordinary person.
She hadn't dared to do this before because she lacked the confidence, understanding that if a conflict truly arose, she would not be the one who was protected.
But now, things were different.
She had something she had to fight for.
That was the source of her courage.
Once she understood this, Morgan found that aside from Artoria, there was almost no one in Camelot who dared to stand in her way.
Heh.
I really have that guy to thank for this.
Otherwise, I'd still be living a bitter life.
Feeling her mood lighten somewhat, Morgan, after finding out where Ian was, set off without hesitation.
She prepared to give him something.
Or perhaps...
To retrieve something for him.
The training grounds of Camelot.
The soldiers were looking at Ian with fear on their faces.
"Th-this is the how many-th sword he's broken?" someone asked.
"The one hundred and fourteenth, isn't it?!"
Just as the soldiers lamented.
This boy, who was rumored throughout the city to be a violent maniac, had already broken an unknown number of blades.
A light sword could not survive a single blow from him;
A heavy sword was merely a toy that could endure one hit more.
If this continued, the weapon supply, which was originally enough to last for several months, would probably be used up by this guy in a few days.
"..."
After once again easily biting through a broken sword with his teeth, Ian tossed the remaining fragment aside.
He stood up and looked at his colleagues(?) whose eyes were filled with terror.
"Can I fight without a weapon?"
"You all can use them—"
"I feel like... they're not very useful."
If anyone else had said this, it would have contained some element of showing off, but Ian was truly just stating a fact.
However—
No one dared to answer Ian's words.
Whether or not to use a weapon was not a rule the knights could decide for themselves.
Besides...
According to the rumors in the streets, this strange fellow named Ian was a knight that Artoria valued extremely highly.
There were even rumors that this so-called selection was being held for him and him alone.
Who would dare tell him not to use a weapon?
What if King Arthur got angry?
The training ground suddenly fell silent.
The knights looked at each other, not a single one daring to answer Ian.
But just at this moment—
"These weapons are indeed rather inadequate."
Morgan spoke as she walked out.
Her gaze swept over the knights present, and then she said with a smile:
"Those are all weapons for ordinary knights."
"How could they possibly be worthy of you?"
"..."
These words were a bit of a slap in the face to the others, but the knights were angry and did not dare to speak out.
Because what Morgan said was indeed the truth.
He was different from the other knights.
But the princess paid no mind to the reactions of the others.
Or rather, their reactions were worthless to her.
"Let me get you a weapon that suits you."
Morgan took Ian's hand as if no one else was there.
She said softly:
"As long as—"
"You come with me to the lake, right now."