"It doesn't hurt to tell you."
As Artoria spoke, small flames flickered at her fingertips—the power of runic magic, which she occasionally practiced when she was alone.
She looked at the flame at her fingertips and continued, "Lately, some ghosts have been wandering through the palace, some of them even taking human form and causing harm to many people."
"A ghost…?" Arthur repeated.
"You find that strange?" She turned to look at Arthur.
"No… or rather, I'm already used to it," Arthur said.
There were undead near the Land of Shadows. Some of them were conscious, while others were merely wandering spirits without awareness. At first, Arthur had been frightened when he saw these undead, but now he was already accustomed to them.
Scáthach had told him before that some of these undead were warriors who, after death, became undead in order to protect their homeland.
Although their combat strength was not as great as it had been in life, if they were to form a legion, they would still be a force to be reckoned with.
"Did these ghosts only start appearing recently?" Arthur asked.
Artoria nodded. "To be precise, they began appearing about two days ago."
"At that time, there weren't as many apparitions as there are now, and at first my father didn't pay much attention to it… or rather, because of my uncle's restrictions—" Artoria shook her head and fell silent.
It wasn't good to let Arthur know too much. This was a matter of her country, and it would be troublesome if Arthur became involved.
"Uncle…" Arthur murmured, and a certain person immediately came to mind.
The embodiment of Britain's White Dragon—Vortigern.
He was King Uther's brother and Artoria's uncle, the incarnation of a will that sought to reject the Age of Man. Born because Britain itself interfered with his conception, he became something more than human.
Arthur shook his head and stopped thinking about it.
This was something neither he nor the current Artoria could deal with.
As for the undead Artoria had mentioned, he found it somewhat intriguing as well. Why would undead suddenly invade Britain?
Did it have something to do with the king? Or with Morgan?
To be honest, Arthur really didn't want to associate Morgan le Fay with the ghosts appearing in Britain. After more than four years of contact with Morgan, he truly didn't think she was an evil witch.
After all, the one inhabiting Morgan was the Goddess of Death—both Artoria's elder sister and Death itself. Although she always did things that were difficult to understand and frequently teased him, he couldn't sense any malice from Morgan.
If she were truly that good at acting and had managed to hide her true nature for four years, then he had nothing to say.
"Are you listening to me, Arthur?" Artoria frowned, fixing her gaze on him.
"Huh? What is it?" Arthur asked, snapping out of his thoughts.
"You didn't hear?" She sighed. "Sorry, forget what I just said. The people at the palace will handle it; it's not a particularly serious issue."
"Mm." Arthur simply nodded.
"Now that I've explained things, shouldn't you tell me about your situation today?" Artoria asked.
"Me?" Arthur was startled. After thinking for a moment, since it wasn't a secret, he briefly recounted what had happened over the past two days.
"Essence blood of a black dragon?" Artoria's eyes widened. "You and that girl you mentioned went to a dragon's nest to steal its essence blood?!"
Arthur nodded.
"And you were discovered?" Artoria asked in disbelief.
"Yes, and chased the entire way," Arthur said. "But in the end, we managed to escape back to Dun Scaith."
"You're incredibly bold," Artoria said softly, "trying to steal something from a dragon's nest."
It was important to note that dragons were no less intelligent than humans, and they valued their own essence and blood far more than gold or silver. For someone to steal their essence and blood and then appear alive and well before others was nothing short of a miracle.
"The dragon was injured, so I only went secretly because I knew it had left the nest. I didn't expect to be discovered the moment I stole its essence blood," Arthur said, shaking his head helplessly. "If we hadn't escaped in time, and with my master's help, I would've ended up as dragon food," he joked.
"What do you want the Black Dragon's blood for?" Artoria suddenly asked.
"Didn't I already say that my physical strength is naturally weak? Even with the help of the magic cauldron, it would take about a year for me to reach someone like you. But if I had the Black Dragon's essence blood, that time could be shortened."
"Integrating it into your body will be extremely painful," Artoria warned. "Be very careful. If something goes wrong, you could end up crippled for life instead of improving your physical condition."
Merlin had once foretold how the White Dragon, representing the Saxons, and the Red Dragon, representing Britain, would battle one another, and how Britain would then be unified by a great king who would defeat the Gauls and Romans.
As the incarnation of the Red Dragon, Artoria had been raised to oppose the incarnation of the White Dragon—Uther's brother, Vortigern—who resisted the coming Age of Man and sought to destroy Britain and reduce it to ruin.
Artoria was well aware of the terrifying power contained within a dragon's blood essence. The power of the Red Dragon was so overwhelming that even the slightly inferior essence blood of the Black Dragon should by no means be underestimated.
"I'll be careful," Arthur said. "Besides, with my master around, there shouldn't be any problems."
Artoria nodded lightly and said nothing more. However, seeing Arthur's confident expression, a faint smile appeared on her face. "You trust your master a great deal."
"Of course. My master is very capable, and I trust her completely," Arthur replied naturally.
Yesterday, he had handed the Black Dragon's essence blood over to Scáthach. This had been at her suggestion, as she needed to confirm the power contained within it and harmonize it to a certain extent before he could use it.
As the two talked, the water in the pot came to a full boil, and the aroma of fish spread through the air.
After Arthur served himself a bowl of fish soup, he poured one for Artoria as well.
Artoria took her bowl and, with elegance, took a small sip of the fish soup before picking up her spoon.
Seeing this, Arthur smiled knowingly. However, the moment he picked up his own bowl to take a sip, he realized that the girl beside him had already finished her soup.
With a strange expression, he served Artoria a second bowl of fish soup. After he took a sip himself, she had already finished again.
Arthur: "…"
"What is it?" Artoria asked, looking at him with a puzzled expression.
"N—nothing…" Arthur said.
How could she eat so elegantly and so quickly?! And she was only fourteen! How could such a small body hold so much food?
"Never mind." Arthur sighed and slid the entire pot over to Artoria.
The two looked at each other for a moment before Artoria frowned and asked in confusion, "What are you doing?"
"Here," Arthur said. "Eating one bowl at a time is too slow. I'm only going to eat this much anyway. You can finish the rest of the pot."
Artoria was clearly displeased. She frowned slightly and looked at Arthur. "Are you mocking me?"
It was asking too much for her to eat an entire pot of food by herself.
"No. You train every day, so it's natural that you eat a bit more. Go ahead, eat," Arthur insisted.
Then, under Arthur's gentle gaze, Artoria lowered her head and began eating the pot of fish soup.
(End of Chapter)