"He actually fell asleep?"
In an inn somewhere in Camelot, Mélusine looked at Ian, who was sleeping on Artoria's lap.
Ian, now back in his human form, was draped in the King's cape, sleeping on her thighs.
"He was so active when he was in the sky earlier."
"Because that was the form he took using all his strength—"
Artoria said this while stroking Ian's head.
"Mélusine, that's no simple feat."
"..."
The petite swordswoman could not deny this.
After all, she had seen what Ian looked like when he transformed.
His whole body steaming with heat, it was indeed not something an ordinary person could do.
However—
Mélusine, on the other hand, became a little curious.
She sat down next to Artoria and asked softly:
"My King, you seem very familiar with him."
"You don't need to address me like that in private, Mélusine."
Artoria smiled faintly.
"There's no difference between you and me."
"Is that so..."
"Then, Artoria—"
Mélusine glanced at him, still resting on her lap.
"How did you meet Ian?"
"Eh, well..."
At this, Artoria immediately blushed.
It was a look completely different from the usual valiant and heroic King Arthur.
Mélusine was already curious, and seeing Artoria like this, she naturally wanted to know the answer even more.
She raised her Arondight, speaking as if swearing an oath of fealty:
"I swear on this sword, I will never tell anyone!"
"Artoria, Ian is the first friend I made after coming to Camelot. I really want to know about his past."
"I don't mean anything else by it! I just want to know!"
Mélusine's attitude was so resolute and sincere.
Artoria nodded.
"I understand."
"Since that's the case, I'll tell you."
"Mélusine, he's actually a little similar to you—"
"Similar?"
The petite swordswoman looked at the unmoving Ian.
"Um, if you're talking about personality, please allow me to refuse such an evaluation."
"I... still think his personality is a bit strange."
"Of course I don't mean that."
Artoria laughed.
"I mean the way he came to Britain."
"You flew here from across the sea, right?"
"He..."
Artoria looked at the sky outside the inn window.
"He fell from the sky."
"Huh?"
Mélusine had imagined many kinds of outrageous explanations, but she had never anticipated a reason as simple yet as unbelievable as falling from the sky.
But it seemed Artoria had long since expected this reaction from Mélusine.
"Surprising, isn't it?"
"I was very surprised at the time, too."
"But, the days I spent with him were certainly very interesting."
"I... still miss that time occasionally."
"I see..."
Mélusine nodded.
"No wonder even though he seems—no, I should say, is so strange, you still chose him as your Knight of the Round Table."
"But speaking of which—"
Mélusine smelled the scent of blood in the air.
Even though a large number of soldiers had been organized to clean up the dragon corpses that Ian had torn to pieces, the oversized chunks of flesh and skeletons inevitably began to emit a stench under the scorching sun.
Even this inn, far from the center, was like this, to say nothing of the places around the impact sites.
"My King, where do you think those dragons came from?"
"When I arrived in Britain, I didn't see any other existences like them, besides Ian—"
"That is indeed a question worth pondering."
Artoria's expression grew complicated.
"According to Sir Merlin, it should be impossible for new dragons to be born in Britain."
"But now... it seems that's not the case at all."
"I feel that perhaps something unknown is happening on the lands of Britain."
"..."
Sensing Artoria's worry, Mélusine did not hesitate.
She drew her other sword as well.
"Then if that's the case—"
"Do you need me to start patrolling all of Britain?"
"As soon as I find such enemies, I will use Arondight to mercilessly destroy them!"
"No."
Artoria shook her head.
"If you do that, you'll collapse from exhaustion sooner or later."
"Mélusine, I don't want to see that happen. You are a Knight of the Round Table whom I value, are you not?"
"But we can't just do nothing, can we?"
Mélusine, her request to volunteer denied, pouted.
"I don't like sitting around waiting for doom."
"I already have an idea, Mélusine," Artoria reassured her other knight. "I will go find my sister. She knows so much about Britain, she must have thought of something."
"Eh, about that..."
Mélusine began to stammer.
Although a battle had just passed, she hadn't forgotten the sounds she'd heard coming from Morgan's room!
"What's wrong?"
Artoria looked at the Mélusine before her in confusion.
"Is there something you feel is wrong?"
"You can tell me."
"N-no!"
Mélusine quickly waved her hands.
"Whatever Artoria thinks is definitely for the best!"
"How would I dare to have an opinion!"
"Is that so?"
Mélusine's slightly flustered appearance made Artoria even more concerned.
"Speaking of which, you and Ian met before those dragons arrived, didn't you?"
"Would you mind telling me what you talked about?"
"..."
Now Mélusine was even more at a loss for words.
If she let Artoria know about the experience where she had intended to teach Ian how to please her, but ended up on the receiving end of what could or could not be considered a confession...
She would definitely be put in the same boat as Morgan!
"I can't!"
"I really can't!"
"..."
Artoria was about to say something, but Ian, who had been sleeping silently, turned over at that moment.
"So thirsty..."
"So thirsty..."
Artoria heard him immediately.
"Ahem." She coughed lightly.
"Mélusine, could you leave us for a moment?"
"I... have some things I'd like to say to Ian alone."
"Okay!"
Mélusine couldn't have been happier. Without a second word, she picked up her two Arondights and fled.
But the moment the door closed, she felt a sense of familiarity.
Eh?
Isn't this just like that time with Morgan?
Should I listen...?
Inside the room, Artoria wasn't thinking about anything else at all.
Her attention was completely focused on Ian.
She undid the armor on her body.
A sight completely different from before popped out from her clothes, then jiggled up and down a couple of times.
"It's okay." Artoria's face was red.
"I've... found something even tastier, you know."