"Yes, your findings are the same as mine." Back in the village, Artoria, having completed her own investigation, nodded with a serious expression. "The land of Britain... it's broken." Recalling the villagers' descriptions, Artoria sighed. "The land's output began to dwindle several months ago. And we only just discovered it now." As she spoke, a look of guilt crossed Artoria's face, even though at that time, she had not yet drawn the sword and bore no kingly duty.
"You don't need to blame yourself so much, Artoria," Morgan said. "No one can perceive everything, and you are no exception. If we start working now, it's not as if there's no chance of a remedy." "A chance of a remedy?" Artoria caught the hidden meaning in Morgan's words. "Sister, do you know what to do?" "Not exactly. But—" A sharp glint flashed in Morgan's eyes. "We can try something." "Then I'll go get Ian! He's still outside helping distribute the food—" Sensing a glimmer of hope, Artoria was overjoyed. She completely failed to notice the hatred concealed in Morgan's eyes.
"No," Morgan said, stopping Artoria just as she was about to leave the hut. "There's no need. We two can handle this. Not everything requires his presence. Artoria, you are the future King of Britain. You must start thinking like one." Already feeling pressure from their earlier conversation, Artoria naturally became even more mindful of her role after Morgan's words.
"Well then—let it just be the two of us."
One after the other, they went out to the barren fields. Looking at the scene that could only be described as a disaster, Artoria bit her lip. "Sister, what are you going to do now?" "It's simple." Morgan extended her hand. A blue light materialized upon it. Upon closer inspection, one could see faint traces of blood-red mixed within. The light quickly expanded, forming a huge, circular magic circle. Complex patterns were carved upon its surface, creating a dazzling, intricate display.
Without a hint of hesitation, Morgan slammed the circle into the ground beneath her feet. The unbelievable happened. The land, which had been on the verge of death, gradually began to radiate with life. Seeds that had been sentenced to death sprouted. The small river, which had long run dry, had a new source of water flowing through it.
Everything came alive!
"Sister, what did you do?" Artoria stared at the scene, her pupils trembling. "Just applying the right medicine to the illness," Morgan said, suppressing the joy she felt from showing off in front of Artoria. "Artoria, since we know the land became this way because it lacks magical energy, then—if we pour magical energy back into it, we should be able to get the results we want, right?"
"This..." Not expecting the solution to be so simple, Artoria's confidence began to waver. This was exactly what Morgan wanted. "I know this might displease you, but—you should understand what it truly means to become the King of Britain. You must feel it, don't you? The preparations you've made... are far from enough." "Yes."
No longer refuting Morgan's words as she had before, Artoria earnestly admitted her own inadequacy this time. "I understand. But Sister, I won't give up. I promised Ian I would become a king that he can acknowledge!" After saying this, Artoria felt a bit embarrassed. She quickly added, "I mean, a king that can satisfy everyone, including Ian. If possible, could I ask you to help me as well?!"
Looking at the hand Artoria extended to her, Morgan's feelings were incredibly complex. Of course, she didn't want to agree. She even had the impulse to slap her hand away. But—for the sake of her plan, she forced down her emotions and took Artoria's hand.
"Of course I will help you. You are the one chosen by the sword, and you are my sister. It is only right that I help you properly. But before that, Artoria, I hope you can realize one thing." "What is it?" Artoria now held a considerable amount of trust for Morgan. "Hmm, I think the problem might lie with Ian." "Eh?" The topic suddenly shifted back to Ian, catching Artoria completely off guard. "What does this have to with Ian?"
"My dear sister, of course it has something to do with him," Morgan said, luring Artoria step by step. "Don't you think you spend a bit too much time on him? You two are always attached at the hip, only separating when absolutely necessary. Do you truly think this is behavior befitting a king?" "Of course," she continued softly, "you may have shared a strong bond in the past. But—" Morgan took Artoria's hand and placed it on the hilt of the Sword of Promised Victory, Caliburn, which was hanging at her waist. "If you only remain attached to that kind of feeling, is it not a disservice to this sword?"
"A disservice to this sword..." Artoria was silent for a long time. "Sister, do you think I shouldn't be spending so much time on Ian?" "I didn't say that," Morgan replied, releasing her hand. "I just think that since you have the will to protect everyone, the vision to make all of Britain a better place, then you cannot simply cling to the past. You must make sacrifices, must you not? Perhaps my words have been too harsh—"
Morgan turned away. "Artoria, think about it yourself. I won't disturb you." With that, Morgan walked out of the fields. She knew Artoria would be convinced. After all—she had secretly used Tiamat's magical energy to cast a persuasion spell on her. She would certainly come to believe that her relationship with Ian was wrong. Although it was the complete opposite of her initial plan, Morgan felt this suited her much better.
Taking things from Artoria, what a wonderful thing! Well then— Morgan looked over at the "Strange Knight" Ian, who was still helping the villagers. She knew that the next few words she would say to him would be the final move.
"Ian." "Tonight is the perfect time to confess." The plan to drive a wedge between the Knight and the King was about to reach its conclusion.
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