What happens when a dragon obtains a weapon of its own?
The knights currently participating in the selection for the Round Table could now perfectly answer that question.
They couldn't win.
They couldn't win at all.
Ordinary weapons were no match for the Sword of Promised Victory (Excalibur Morgan).
Some even claimed to have seen a dazzling black light during their duels.
But regardless, Ian, whom almost no one had dared to question in the first place, was now even more beyond reproach.
"That is the knight I have chosen."
After witnessing Ian claim his eighteenth victory, Artoria spoke with a hint of pride.
"Merlin, surely no one dares to doubt him now, right?"
"..."
"Perhaps."
There was something Merlin did not tell Artoria.
He had recognized the Sword of Promised Victory (Excalibur Morgan) in Ian's hand.
It was not a weapon that person should have possessed, yet it was now firmly in his grasp.
It seemed that everything was different from his original predictions—
What on earth had caused all of this?
Merlin couldn't help but feel a little curious.
But he certainly did not dare to ask any more questions.
That person named Ian was clearly also a dragon, and it wouldn't be worth it to have another two teeth knocked out.
At night, by the King's Round Table.
Under the pretext of offering congratulations, Artoria summoned Ian to her side.
"You are very skilled, Ian-kyō." (TN note: kyō 卿 is a sort of title that is for those who are below a king or important person, like a knight. It also can be seen as a title of endearment, so I felt like "sir" doesn't fit and it should remain like so)
"So far, you don't seem to have lost a single match."
"If you continue like this, you will surely become the First Knight very soon, won't you?"
"Mm."
Ian nodded.
"You are correct, my King."
"..."
"..."
The atmosphere was somewhat awkward.
Although they were both sitting here now, they could not, no matter what, return to the way things were before.
Artoria felt she had so much she wanted to say, but in the end, all that was left was a somewhat pale and feeble, "Would you like me to reward you with something to eat?"
And then, came the routine unfastening of her armored skirt.
How strange...
I used to be so happy when we did this.
But now, my mind is filled with 'what if he doesn't like doing this anymore?'
And the more she thought like this, the more speechless she became.
The final result could only be sinking, time and time again, into that unspeakable pleasure, and then collapsing in exhaustion on the throne.
And this was but a microcosm of Artoria's life during this period.
When Kay left the village where they had lived and came to Camelot to see his younger sister.
His very first words left Artoria stunned.
"Why do you look so exhausted?"
"You seem to be in worse shape than when you were in the village."
"Do I?"
Artoria replied to her brother this way, but in her heart, she already knew the answer.
But she understood she could not say it out loud.
"Perhaps it's because there are so many things to do after becoming King."
In contrast to Artoria's immense pressure, Morgan was considerably happier than before.
This was especially true after she discovered that, aside from going inside, the gluttonous dragon would unconditionally accept and fulfill any kind of play.
On rainy days, she would stand on the balcony with him behind her, then, with a very wicked sense of humor, clamp her slender legs around something.
"Come on."
The princess stretched her fair hands upwards, as if she were dancing.
Her face held a smile full of charm.
"Let's see if the rain comes down harder—"
"Or if you do—"
Pitter-patter.
Rainwater flowed through the streets of Camelot.
Morgan felt that her life was no longer just about getting revenge on Artoria.
"It seems the rain was harder after all."
"But—"
"I still have to reward you."
"You didn't bring shame upon my face."
Pain and joy intertwined in Camelot.
Ian's name also gradually became accepted by the populace.
Because of Artoria's favor, no one dared to speak ill of him;
And because of Morgan's tutelage, he behaved like a perfect gentleman.
Finally—
After Ian defeated the thirty-seventh knight with the Sword of Promised Victory (Excalibur Morgan), Artoria found a suitable opportunity.
Under the watchful eyes of countless citizens of Camelot, she extended her hand to him.
"Ian-kyō, are you willing to swear your allegiance to me?"
"I am."
Ian knelt on one knee and left a kiss on Artoria's hand.
"I am always willing."
"..."
Artoria was in a bit of a daze.
She found that in this moment, she wished that what he held in his hand was not a sword, but a ring.
Because... this was a hand that only he could kiss.
But—
Such a thing would not be permitted.
At least, not while she was the King of Britain.
But...
At least he was still by her side for now.
Artoria comforted herself with this thought, but she did not feel much relief.
And in the shadows, watching this public ceremony, Morgan knew that Artoria had arranged it on purpose.
However, she found that she was not opposed to this scene either.
To be precise:
She was not opposed to Ian kneeling as part of the knightly ceremony.
If there were ever a chance for him to do this in front of Artoria, for me, wouldn't that be incredibly satisfying?
She thought this, and even began to imagine what such a scene would look like.
Having become the First Knight of the Round Table, Ian had even more things to do.
Patrolling the city.
Guiding the training of the knights.
Occasionally helping to resolve some disputes among the citizens.
Although everyone's opinion of him was still strange, his overwhelming strength very cleverly masked these issues.
Those who had been helped by him, on the contrary, began to defend him.
"Powerful people always have their quirks."
"At the very least, Lord Ian hasn't done anything bad, has he?"
However, Britain did not seem to have become any more peaceful because of this.
Turmoil, unbeknownst to all, was enveloping the land, and it would be a situation that surpassed all imagination.
After all—
No one had ever anticipated that Tiamat's sorrow could actually cross time and space to arrive here.
It was another day of heavy rain.
Ian, on patrol as usual, happened to arrive at the city gates.
"Thank you for your hard work."
Using the polite phrases he had learned from Morgan, Ian spoke to the guards.
"For the King, it is no trouble at all!"
The soldiers replied.
However, before Ian could say another word, a person came tumbling and crawling from the heavy rain in the distance, arriving at the city gate.
The moment he saw the First Knight Ian, he pointed back to where he had crawled from, his fingers waving up and down, looking utterly terrified.
His voice was frantic. He said it several times before Ian finally understood what he meant.
"H-Help!"
"There's a dragon!"
"There's a white dragon in the forest!"