The skies of Britain fell into a deathly silence.
Artoria's declaration was akin to dropping a bombshell on all the citizens present.
"Wh-what?"
"The King is a woman?"
Barghest was stunned.
"When did she change?!"
"..."
Regarding Barghest's slow reaction, Mélusine, who had long since been put back on the ground, said nothing.
She knew this day would come.
It was just—
She didn't expect it to be so soon.
If Barghest reacted like that, the people of Camelot naturally had plenty to say as well.
They put their heads together, discussing Artoria's confession in a flurry of whispers.
"How can she be a woman?"
"How can a woman be the King of Camelot!"
"How long have we been deceived?!"
"..."
Faced with these voices of doubt, Ian reacted at once.
His hand rested on the Excalibur Morgan at his waist, looking as if he might draw it at any moment.
"Don't act just yet, Ian,"
Artoria said softly.
"It's perfectly normal for everyone to have this kind of reaction."
She, who had blossomed into a figure with an impressive physique, quickly continued:
"Well then, everyone—"
"Since you all have objections, you might as well speak them now."
"I will answer them one by one."
"..."
"..."
The citizens, who had just been murmuring amongst themselves, all looked at each other when they heard this.
There were definitely problems.
But—
No one dared to be the first to speak up.
"When did you start deceiving us?"
Suddenly, a voice rang out.
It was Morgan, who had mixed into the crowd at some point, walking to the very front.
She looked directly at Artoria on the castle wall, questioning her in a serious tone.
"You ought to make it clear, shouldn't you?"
What Morgan asked was what the people wanted to ask.
In that moment, everyone's gaze was fixed on Artoria.
The air itself seemed to grow hotter from their stares.
However, Artoria did not feel afraid.
She just silently drew the already broken Caliburn.
"From the moment I drew the sword."
"The deception had already begun."
"..."
The crowd was in an uproar.
No one had expected Artoria to answer this question so directly.
Least of all Morgan.
"From your tone, it seems you don't think this is a problem at all?"
"No."
Artoria shook her head.
"Of course I think it's a problem."
"Deception, in the end, is not a good thing."
"But—"
"That doesn't mean my becoming King was wrong for Camelot."
Artoria threw Caliburn with force.
Falling from the castle, it spun several times in the air before hitting the ground of Camelot and shattering into several pieces.
"In fact, I have done better than my father, the king."
"Can anyone deny this?"
"..."
"..."
The people looked at one another.
No one denied Artoria's words.
After all, what she said was true.
The land was becoming fertile;
The rivers were flowing stronger;
The poverty of the past had all gradually vanished without a trace after Artoria took the throne.
If Camelot during King Uther's reign was a land of devastation,
Then—
The Camelot now in Artoria's hands was a kingdom where anyone could find happiness.
"But it is still a deception, Artoria,"
Morgan continued relentlessly.
"If your ascension was just a fraud, couldn't a more outstanding person have ruled more perfectly than you?"
The gazes of the people were once again drawn to Artoria by Morgan's words.
Only this time—
There was much less doubt among them, replaced by a curiosity to know how Artoria would respond.
How could one prove that no one was more outstanding, more suited to rule Camelot?
No matter how you looked at it, it seemed like an impossible claim to prove.
But the answer Artoria gave was unexpectedly simple.
"There is no one."
"I guarantee that no one in Britain can do better than I."
"With what kind of resolve do you say such words?" Morgan frowned. "You are just a fraud. Can you bear the lives of everyone in Camelot on your shoulders?"
"Don't make promises you can't keep."
"But what if I say I can?"
Artoria's hand rested on Ian's shoulder.
Under Morgan's gaze, she, who had blossomed into a mature beauty, placed a kiss directly on his cheek.
"I'm counting on you, Ian."
"..."
Though it was just a simple phrase, Ian completely understood Artoria's meaning.
She wanted him to turn into a dragon for her.
Nothing could be more persuasive than this.
Under the gazes of the people, the giant black dragon carried Artoria and soared into the sky, casting a vast shadow that enveloped the crowd below.
The King of Camelot stood upon the dragon's head, her eyes sweeping over everyone present with a gaze that looked down upon all creation.
"Sister."
"Everyone."
"The reason I am King is not because I drew Caliburn."
"It is because—"
Artoria materialized a shimmering golden spear and gripped it in her hand.
"I possess the power to be King."
"Therefore, the deception was invalid from the very beginning."
"I am the King of Camelot, and the King of Camelot can only be me."
"You need only accept this fact, and then live your lives happily under the protection of the dragon."
"For this, I will stand upon the throne forever."
"..."
The scene fell silent once more.
Because what Artoria said was so bold, so fantastical.
So much so that—
Even Morgan hadn't processed what a terrifying promise her younger sister had just made.
But in this silence, applause suddenly rang out.
It was Mélusine.
She clapped all by herself, her eyes shining with the light of trust.
One person.
Two people.
Countless people followed Mélusine and began to applaud.
That's right...
If she could do something like this, did it really matter what gender Artoria was?
"I've said it—"
Artoria looked at the clamoring crowd before her and let out an imperceptible sigh of relief.
"As I thought, with Ian by my side, I can do anything."
"Let's go—"
Artoria knelt down. She gently stroked the intricately patterned head of the dragon.
"We're going out for a bit."
"Roar—"
The great dragon once again soared into the sky.