North Wales Castle, private chamber.
Inside, Artoria Lancer and Artoria Alter were sipping tea, their expressions grim.
Their worries had nothing to do with the safety of the realm or the threat of the Saxons. Theirs was a grievance far more personal and primal.
"...I simply don't understand. Ever since Brother returned, we have coupled so fiercely, day and night, pouring everything into it—so why is there still no news from my womb?"
Artoria Lancer frowned, stroking her flat lower abdomen. Artoria Alter, propping her chin on her hand, nodded in irritable agreement.
"I feel the same. There is no way there is an issue with Brother's seed. Did we push him too hard? Or perhaps the frequency is still insufficient? Tonight, I shall be the one on top; I'll wring every last drop out of him until morning."
Tamamo, listening to this savage and primal conversation, scoffed behind her fan in sheer disbelief.
"My, my~ truly, ignorance is bliss. Do you really not know the reason?"
Tamamo swished her tail seductively, delivering a cold dose of reality to the two.
"You two are not fundamentally ordinary humans. Your hearts are dragon cores, and your bodies are closer to transcendents brimming with mystery. No matter how human you appear on the outside, there is a biological chasm between you and a mortal."
Tamamo savored a sip of tea before continuing her explanation with a serious face.
"Your husband is undoubtedly strong. He is like a monster. However... that is merely martial power achieved through blood, sweat, and training. By birth, he is a perfectly ordinary human—no divine blood, no innate reservoir of powerful mana."
Tamamo was, of course, speaking of his "ordinariness" only in comparison to them.
"It is no easy feat for the ordinary seed of a mundane man to take root in the soil of superhumans with dragon blood. He may not be a divine spirit like Scáthach, but you will likely need to strive daily for several years before you even stand a chance of conception."
"Wh-what?! We have to wait for years?!"
Artoria Lancer leaped to her feet in horror. Artoria Alter’s mouth hung agape, her face a mask of shock.
Tamamo snapped her fan shut and added with a cynical sneer.
"In the first place, Servants like me have bodies made of ether; no matter how much love we share, pregnancy is fundamentally impossible! And here you are, possessing such sturdy, vibrant bodies, whining just because it takes a little time? You really are spoiled, aren't you?"
Faced with Tamamo's outburst—fueled by the bitter jealousy of a Heroic Spirit who could never bear a child—Lancer and Alter could only fall silent, dumbstruck.
Of course, since Tamamo's sorcery was world-class, she could technically achieve incarnation if she had enough mana.
But even in Britain, gathering that much mana was no simple task. Especially since the ley lines of Britain were effectively dying due to Vortigern, making them nearly impossible to touch.
Just then, the door to the chamber opened and Medusa entered quietly.
"Everyone, the Master has returned with guests. He says there is an urgent matter to discuss."
Guided by Medusa to the audience chamber, they found Kay, Artoria Lancer Alter, and the newly arrived party—Artoria X, Artoria Caster, and Britomart—already waiting.
Before Artoria Lancer could even greet her long-absent sisters, she turned her attention to the news Britomart had brought regarding the tyrant of Ireland.
"Ho. An envoy sent by Fairy Queen Gloriana. I see. And this tyrant's name is Grandotte, was it?"
At Lancer's heavy inquiry, Galehaut, who had been listening silently with his arms crossed, finally spoke.
As a former king of the Irish isles, he knew the bloody history of that land better than anyone.
"Indeed. Grandotte is a man who cannot be measured by the standard definition of a tyrant. He is an exceptionally dangerous and horrific individual, Your Majesty."
Galehaut, bowing his massive half-giant frame of over two meters, began his explanation in a voice laced with deep caution.
"He is of the giant race. However, standing at only 2.5 meters, he was despised as the smallest of his kind. Yet, that very trait made him an outlier—a mutant. Do not be deceived. Within that small frame, all the muscle and strength of a giant are compressed to an abnormal density."
Galehaut clenched his thick fist and added,
"It is humbling to admit... but in terms of pure physical strength and destructive power, even I, a half-giant, cannot hope to reach that monster's level. If we were to clash head-on, my bones would shatter first."
A declaration of defeat from Galehaut, one of Britain's most formidable warriors. His heavy testimony caused the air in the room to turn cold instantly.
Britomart nodded with a somber expression, continuing the report.
"Sir Galehaut is correct. His martial prowess has long since transcended the realm of tactics or strategy. There are widespread rumors that he is a descendant of the gods."
Britomart's eyes trembled slightly as she recounted what she had heard from Gloriana.
"He is clad in thick black iron armor without a single gap, and he wields a massive poleaxe—the kind used to smash castle gates—as if it were a light feather. Queen Irena's regular army formed a line on the plains to stop him, but... before the axe of that single monster, hundreds of knights were turned into blood, and the army was annihilated like autumn leaves. Neither rain of arrows nor cavalry charges could stop him."
The vivid description of an entire army wiped out by one man.
Artoria Lancer leaned back in her throne, rubbing her chin as her eyes sharpened.
"A compressed giant capable of ravaging an army single-handedly... Indeed, if Ireland were to be completely unified under such a monster, it would eventually become a terrifying dagger pointed at North Wales. Queen Gloriana must have sensed this danger, which is why she dispatched you."
In contrast to Lancer's grave analysis, Kay's reaction was entirely different.
"Ho... a compressed-muscle giant. Clad in iron and wielding a poleaxe, with the blood of a Celtic god."
Kay smiled involuntarily, genuinely intrigued.
He hadn't always been fond of fighting, but perhaps it was because he had spent five years in the Abyssal Realm being trained to the point of bone-breaking by the absolute martial genius Scáthach.
Hearing of a true powerhouse made the warrior's blood in his veins boil.
"Now that sounds appetizing. I've been feeling a bit restless since arriving in North Wales. Don't you agree, Alter?"
Standing beside him, Artoria Lancer Alter also wore a predatory smile, fingering the shaft of her holy lance.
"Hehe. Guarding Brother's back while punching a hole through that arrogant giant's heart... that sounds like a wonderful date."
Seeing their reactions, Artoria Lancer gave a faint smile and made a firm decision.
"Very well. It is a king's duty to crush any threat to the peace of North Wales before it can grow. We shall deploy to Ireland."
"Then, what about the ships?"
"Brother, there is no need to endure seasickness while crossing the rough ocean. We possess a far faster and more overwhelming mobile fortress."
"A mobile fortress?"
"Yes. Back when we fought King Rience, Morgan cooperated and handed me a very special Mystic Code. A massive flying warship: Ehangwen."
Artoria Lancer added proudly,
"The interior features a grand banquet hall capable of housing hundreds and luxury cruise facilities, allowing the soldiers to travel in peak condition. Most importantly, the bow is equipped with a massive mana-beam cannon capable of obliterating enemy walls in a single strike. It is a perfect flying fortress. I wanted to give you a ride the moment you returned... but it seems our maiden voyage will be the expedition to Ireland."
"What?! You had something that awesome?! Why didn't you tell me sooner!"
"Hehe, I originally intended to use it for leisurely cruises on the sea, but this is not a bad alternative."
Kay's eyes sparkled with excitement. The operation to subjugate the tyrant of Ireland was taking shape as a grand and lavish expedition, centered around the flying cruise ship, Ehangwen.
As the plans were settled smoothly, a sense of relief filled the room. However, that peace was short-lived.
Artoria X, who had been watching the situation in silence, stepped forward, her hands trembling as she adjusted her hat.
"...Excuse me. Now that the official business is finished, I have one personal question."
Artoria X's gaze began to burn fiercely as she looked back and forth between Artoria Lancer and Artoria Lancer Alter.
"Why... why have you all been clinging to Brother and acting like his wives? Am I seeing things?"
At X's icy interrogation, Artoria Lancer Alter snorted and proudly puffed out her chest.
"Hmph. You aren't seeing things. Including myself, we have already been recognized as Brother's official lovers. Although I haven't made it to the bedroom yet... receiving Brother's seed is only a matter of time."
"...W-What did you say?!"
The sound of Artoria X's sanity snapping echoed through the audience chamber.
"You... you beastly harlots!! I spent five years suffering outside, working myself to the bone to find Brother, and you lot just stay in this warm castle, shaking your chests and living the high life?! I will not forgive you!!"
With a sudden lunge!
Having lost all reason, Artoria X flew forward at light speed, grabbed Kay by the collar, and began shaking him violently.
"Brother!! Kick them all out right now! And take me as your wife! You must take responsibility for my five years of lonely chastity—right noooooow!!"
"Hey, hey!! X! Calm down!! I can't breathe—*ack*!!"
Kay's neck swayed as if it were about to snap under the grip of his unstable sister. In the midst of the chaos, the other sisters merely clicked their tongues or sneered; none of them moved to help Kay. Tamamo tried to restrain her, and Medusa eventually wrapped a chain around X's neck from behind to pull her away.
And in the center of that disaster, only Artoria Caster, leaning on her staff, wore a bright, pure, and innocent smile.
Hehehe. Such foolish people.
Artoria Caster cheered inwardly, perfectly concealing the sly, sticky intentions typical of a fairy.
X, with her blatant collar-grabbing tantrum, and the others who were already sated, were mere amateurs.
Rather than a messy love quarrel, it's much better to approach Brother quietly and make the first move, right? Hehe.
Even Artoria Caster, who appeared the most harmless, was sharpening a dark blade of ambition to monopolize Brother.
It was clear that the Ireland expedition would be a hellscape of competition for Kay's affection, far more dangerous than any war with the Saxons.
Regardless, as everyone dispersed to prepare for the departure,
"Sir Britomart."
"Ah, Sir Kay. Yes?"
Kay approached Britomart, having something he wanted to ask.
"By the way, did you come alone? Is there no other support?"
"Ah~ there is one. A knight named Arthégal. Queen Gloriana mentioned that he is my destined partner."
"Destined partner, huh? Sounds romantic."
"Hehe, right?"
"But he's not with us. Is he moving separately?"
"Yes. He headed for Ireland a step ahead of me. Don't worry; I've heard Sir Arthégal is very strong. He is a hero raised by the Goddess of Justice, Astraia."
A hero raised by a goddess. Kay showed great interest at first, but then his enthusiasm suddenly cooled.
"Tsk. Wasn't Diarmuid—the one Scáthach tore apart—also raised by a god?"
"Oh, you mean Sir Diarmuid? I don't know much about him, but Sir Arthégal is definitely powerful. The Queen guaranteed it. Moreover, the weapon he uses is quite special. He wields the Golden Holy Sword, Chrysaor."
"Pfft!!!"
Medusa, who had been drinking tea, spat it out the moment she heard the familiar name. Across from her, Jeanne d’Arc Alter wore a disgusted expression as she wiped her face with a handkerchief.
"Chrysaor? That name sounds familiar."
"Yes. He is the father of the Greek monsters. He sired Echidna, Geryon, and Ladon, and Echidna in turn became the mother of countless beasts. Because of this, Chrysaor is called the Father and King of Greek Monsters. It is said the sword is identified with that very Chrysaor."
"Heh~"
Medusa coughed, listening intently to Britomart's story.
"Furthermore, he uses a weapon that once belonged to Zeus!"
"What."
"The Keraunos—the Thunderbolt. He is a knight who masters both sword and spear; the Keraunos was the spear and lightning Zeus used to fight the Titans. It was later stolen by Typhon. After Typhon was sealed, its whereabouts became a mystery, but it eventually drifted into Britain."
"I have no idea why Greek weapons and goddesses are just appearing in Britain."
"Who knows? Perhaps it's because the environment here is relatively close to the Age of Gods?"
"I suppose so."
Medusa, being from Greece, was trembling. Jeanne d’Arc Alter indifferently tossed her a handkerchief.
Meanwhile, while the sisters were engaged in a blood-splattered love war inside the warm castle of North Wales,
Artoria X Alter, who had stolen the baby and fled through the sky, had crash-landed in a deep forest on her way to North Wales.
"Haa... haa..."
Having deactivated her Armored Suit, Artoria X Alter panted heavily, wiping away the sweat.
Her Alter Reactor spewed immense energy, but its fuel was not mana—it was the combustion of pure calories she consumed.
In other words, she suffered from a fatal fuel-efficiency problem: if she didn't eat, she had no power.
"Waaah... waaaaah!"
To make matters worse, the small baby in her arms was wailing at the top of its lungs from hunger. To a girl with zero knowledge of childcare, a crying baby was a more terrifying monster than anything in the world.
"Ah, please, just stop. I'm starving to death too!"
Flustered, X Alter scoured the forest and hunted a wild goat. With trembling hands, she fed the baby warm, freshly squeezed goat's milk. Fortunately, the baby began to suckle and soon fell fast asleep.
In the meantime, she roughly grilled the goat meat over a fire and began shoving it into her mouth frantically.
"Munch, munch... *ptui*. No salt, and it's so tough it feels like chewing leather. I miss Brother's cooking..."
Swallowing the dry, choking meat, Artoria X Alter looked up at the sky sorrowfully.
She had thought she could fly straight to North Wales in one go, but with this wretched fuel efficiency—requiring her to stop and hunt beasts to recharge—she would be suffering like this for several more days.
Contrary to the grand scale of smashing a witch's workshop and making a daring escape, the exhausted and hungry flight of Artoria X Alter and the baby continued, marked only by a lonely campfire in the depths of the forest.
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