The Throne Room.
Artoria had summoned all her Knights of the Round Table here.
Morgan sat to one side, playing the part of a 'military advisor'.
"Everyone, your handling of the dragon disaster today was excellent."
Artoria said from her throne, her voice filled with admiration for the three of them.
Faced with Artoria's praise, despite feeling her mother's terrifying gaze from the side, Barghest did not flinch.
Instead, she accepted the King's commendation quite directly.
"You praise us too much, Your Majesty."
"It was merely our duty."
"No."
Artoria shook her head.
"While it is indeed a knight's duty to protect Camelot, not all knights are capable of such a fearless display as yours."
"Especially you, Sir Mélusine."
Artoria looked at the petite knight.
"Despite one of your blades being broken, you were still able to charge forward so bravely. That is not the kind of courage an ordinary person possesses."
"Well done."
"..."
Unlike Barghest, faced with Artoria's praise, Mélusine did not show the slightest bit of happiness.
She just stared at the King before her for a long time before finally speaking:
"Your Majesty, those dragons... they all turned back into people in the end, didn't they?"
"..."
"..."
As if by magic, Mélusine's words silenced the throne room in an instant.
The one who broke the silence was Barghest.
"Are you kidding me, shorty!"
"Those were obviously dragons! Didn't you fight them yourself?!"
"I'll say it again, they were people!"
"Flesh-and-blood people!"
Without another word, Mélusine stared hard at Barghest.
The petite knight usually wouldn't so proactively provoke Barghest, who was much larger than her.
And so—
Her uncharacteristic intensity successfully conveyed her seriousness.
"I'm serious."
"..."
Barghest was at a loss for a response for a moment and could only turn to Ian for help with a slightly wronged expression.
Ian readily reached out and patted her head.
"It's alright."
"Mélusine wouldn't lie."
"Something must have happened."
Seeing Ian's hand on Barghest's head, Morgan's expression was as complex as could be, but she knew this was not the right time or place to make a scene.
"Your Majesty."
"You said the same thing to me earlier."
"Isn't it time you told us what you're thinking?"
Artoria glanced at Morgan, then rose from her throne.
"Everyone, Sir Mélusine was not mistaken."
"Those—"
"Were indeed living people."
"But at the same time, they were also living dragons."
Hearing this description, Barghest subconsciously glanced at Ian, then realized something.
"Your Majesty, you mean..."
"They are beings just like him?"
"Similar, but definitely not the same."
Artoria patted Barghest's shoulder.
"If they were all as powerful as Sir Ian, then you would have been the ones to fall."
"This..."
Barghest gradually realized the gravity of the situation.
Mélusine, however, thought of something deeper.
"Why would people like this appear?"
"Logically speaking, shouldn't dragons be exceptionally special beings?"
"I cannot explain that, Sir Mélusine."
"But—"
Artoria looked towards Morgan.
"I know someone who can."
In that instant, everyone's gaze focused on Morgan.
Including Ian's, of course.
"I want to know what's going on."
He said, a hint of expectation appearing in his eyes.
"..."
Morgan knew this was another one of Artoria's tactics.
If it were just the two of them, she would never say a thing.
But—
If it were framed differently.
In front of everyone, especially in front of Ian.
Then, no matter how much she didn't want to explain, she would have to say at least a few words.
She was no longer the naive country sister who was easy to fool.
However—
This wasn't something particularly difficult to speak about.
Morgan took the conversational cue from Artoria and quickly began to speak:
"Everyone."
"You've all felt the land of Britain becoming more fertile recently, haven't you?"
"I don't know about fertile."
Barghest picked up where her mother left off.
"But the trees have certainly been growing much faster."
"Mhm."
Morgan nodded with a smile.
"Actually, this is no coincidence."
"Our Britain is reviving in some way."
"Mélusine is perhaps a product born of this revival."
"..."
"What are you talking about!"
Suddenly becoming the center of the topic, Mélusine instinctively retorted.
"What do you mean, I'm a product of this!"
"I am a swordswoman who flew here from across the sea!"
"And before that?"
Morgan said unhurriedly.
"Do you have any memories from before you flew across the channel and came to Camelot?"
"Of course I do, the people over there called me Lancelot, I—"
Her voice came to an abrupt halt.
Because Mélusine found that she really couldn't say anything more.
She remembered that she also had a name, Lancelot.
But she didn't know why she had that name.
She remembered flying across the channel.
But before that, she had no idea why she had such an impulse.
Am I... really just a product of Britain's revival?
Mélusine felt the meaning of her existence suddenly become strange.
If she wasn't a swordswoman at all—
Then wasn't her so-called chivalry a bit of a joke?
In her confusion, the petite swordswoman felt her hand being held.
"But Mélusine is still Mélusine."
"Even if she symbolizes something else, she is still Mélusine."
"Ian, you..."
Mélusine suddenly felt very shy.
She never expected that he, whom she always called an idiot, would be the one to affirm her existence the most at a time like this.
The next moment, feeling the gazes from both Morgan and Artoria fall on them almost simultaneously, the petite swordswoman immediately pulled her hand back.
"I understand."
"So—"
"Your Majesty, your intention is..."
"Mélusine is still Mélusine." Watching their separated hands, Artoria's tone softened considerably. "But you do now represent a brand new possibility."
"A possibility?"
"Yes."
Artoria nodded.
"A possibility for everyone to become a dragon—"
"Thus, Camelot can truly become a kingdom of dragons."