Chapter 88: Sucker's Feast -1-

After dealing with Maduan in the Valley of Despair and safely emerging from the forest, the party returned to the capital, Camelot, after several days of marching.

"Ooh, King of Logres! And Sir Kay! Spain shall never forget this favor until the very day its lands run dry!"

King Clarice, with his beloved wife Lidoine and comrade Laris tucked under each arm, bowed deeply to Artoria and Kay.

"As soon as we return home, I shall send vast amounts of gold and Spain’s finest warhorses as a reward! And should Logres ever fall into peril, I, Clarice, will be the first to lead my army to your aid!"

"Well… I’ll take the sentiment. Safe travels on your way back."

Artoria replied with her usual indifference, but beside her, Sagremore grasped Clarice’s hand, shedding the passionate tears of men as they shared a heartfelt farewell.

After King Clarice and his entourage departed.

Kay gathered his younger siblings and the Servants in the inner chambers of Camelot to recount the series of events that had unfolded in the Brocéliande forest.

He left nothing out, especially the encounter with Morgan—who had approached them under the alias Tonerico—and the subjugation seal he had branded onto her abdomen.

A heavy silence fell over the room once he finished his tale.

"…Ha. Unbelievable."

The first to break the silence was Artoria Alter, who was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. She frowned, shooting a scolding look at Kay.

"Not content with seducing us into rolling around in bed every night, now you've gone and branded our sister to add her to your collection? Big brother, isn’t your 'defense zone' getting a bit too wide? At this rate, every woman in Britain will end up in your harem."

"Hey! 'Add her to my collection'? That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? I simply reflected that witch’s advances back at her!"

Kay shouted his excuse, sounding genuinely aggrieved.

"Besides, I have no interest in taken women. She has a husband, after all—King Lot of Orkney."

Artoria Lancer, who had stopped by Camelot briefly on diplomatic business, took a sip of tea and corrected him.

"Morgan divorced King Lot over four years ago. They formed a political alliance in Orkney, but she eventually discarded him without mercy, claiming the man's capacity was insufficient for her. She is, after all, a witch who has turned her back on love."

"I know she's divorced, but she still has four kids… And Gawain is barely any younger than I am. He's the same age as you. No, wait, his birthday is actually earlier."

"…Daddy?"

"What are you talking about, Gareth?"

Kay waved his hands frantically, trying to steer the conversation away from Morgan.

In the midst of this, Gareth smirked, teasing Kay relentlessly. Perhaps, he thought, this was actually a good sign. Maybe?

However, Artoria, who had been listening quietly, felt differently.

*Sister Morgan…*

Artoria harbored complex emotions toward Morgan. Though Merlin had manipulated them into a cycle of hatred and misunderstanding, Morgan was the only true family she had who shared the blood of King Uther.

Not a distant relative, but immediate family.

Furthermore, after hearing the details of Morgan’s past from Kay, she found she could no longer simply hate her.

*Brother says he doesn't want her… but with his kind nature, he might eventually end up embracing Sister Morgan as well. Just as he did for us.*

Artoria made a secret resolve within herself.

*If the day comes when Sister Morgan is completely conquered by Brother and enters Camelot… it wouldn't be a bad idea to prepare a spot for her. She hasn't caused us any direct harm yet. Of course, she'll have to take the position of a concubine, below us.*

It was a bold reorganization of the harem hierarchy—one that would have likely caused Morgan to cough up blood from sheer humiliation had she ever found out.

Afterward… time flowed by, marked by periods of peace interspersed with the ongoing war against Botigan's forces.

Several months passed in the blink of an eye.

While Kay's "Culinary Normalization Project" was still in progress, the soldiers' morale had soared thanks to the significantly improved quality of their meals.

However, Kay had recently developed one major source of anxiety.

"Daddyyy!! Peek-a-boo!!"

"Gah?!"

As Kay walked down the corridors of the inner keep, a little girl with shimmering golden hair dashed forward and clung tightly to his back.

With a mischievous smile, the child looked exactly like the Artorias of fifteen years ago. Only a few months ago, she had been a tiny infant in a baby carrier, nursing from a bottle. This was Mordred.

"When did you get so heavy…!"

Kay groaned as he hoisted Mordred up. In terms of physical build and intelligence, she already looked and acted like a five or six-year-old.

A homunculus artificially cultured by Morgan using the genes of the Pendragon sisters, her growth rate was unnaturally fast, far beyond that of a normal human.

"At this rate, by next year, she'll be insisting we be drinking buddies."

Kay stroked Mordred’s hair, unable to hide his bittersweet worry.

"Heehee! Because I'm amazing!"

Unaware of the implications of her rapid growth, Mordred simply laughed with innocent delight.

"That is the fate of a homunculus."

Artoria X Alter approached, adjusting her glasses as she stated the fact dispassionately.

"As far as I am aware, Mordred's expected lifespan is… between thirty and fifty years."

"Thirty years…?"

Kay’s eyes wavered.

Considering the average lifespan in this era of constant warfare in Britain, fifty might be considered a long life, but for someone with the blood of dragons and fairies, it was far too short and fleeting.

"No matter how well I feed her or train her, there's a chance she'll die before me or the others. That Morgan… if you're going to create a child, at least do it properly."

"She is a homunculus, after all. And that is actually quite long. It is only the infancy that is accelerated; after that, time will flow relatively slower. Though puberty will arrive slightly faster, that period will be prolonged. Many among the Pendragons have halted growth. Aging likely won't occur until the moment of death. She will never become a grandmother. We, too, will age and die while maintaining a youthful exterior."

"Like a demigod…."

In the Age of Gods, it was common for humans to maintain a youthful appearance for a long time even as they aged. Only those who lived exceptionally long lives eventually showed visible signs of aging.

For demigods, the length of their life and the preservation of their youth depended on the density of their divine blood.

Among them, Gilgamesh—the Wedge of Heaven—was said to have looked exactly as he did in his youth until the day he died.

Dying while looking young might seem like a blessing, but it also meant drifting away from normalcy. It meant one could never live a truly ordinary human life.

As Kay muttered in distress, Tamamo-no-Mae approached, fluttering her tail as she touched up her makeup with a mirror.

"Do not be so disheartened, husband. If you look after her health with the delicacies of the Mystic Realm, she should easily last until fifty, provided there are no special illnesses or battle wounds. Furthermore, there is always the option of taking her to Avalon to preserve her body before her time runs out."

"Hmm."

"Or perhaps……."

Tamamo added meaningfully, covering her mouth with a fan.

"If you give her a powerful Noble Phantasm, like a Holy Sword or Holy Lance—similar to Lady Artoria or Lancer—that overwhelming mystery might forcibly halt her physical growth and prevent aging entirely."

"A Holy Sword or Lance… No, that's way too dangerous. I've already had enough worries regarding those things."

Kay rubbed his chin.

Indeed, Artoria's physical growth had stopped completely around the age of fifteen, once she had drawn Caliburn and Excalibur.

If Mordred were given such a weapon, she would effectively become immortal in body as long as she held it. Though, of course, it wouldn't stop the aging of the soul.

"But… doing that just to extend a lifespan is too inhumane. That's not something a parent should do. Let's research other methods."

"Kyahaha! Daddy! Your beard is all prickly!!"

"That's because I didn't shave this morning…."

Unaware that her life was short, Mordred simply laughed brightly while touching Kay's stubble. Swallowing his heartache, Kay lifted the child up and gave her a piggyback ride.

Kay was spending a leisurely afternoon playing with Mordred.

Suddenly, a tremendous crash echoed, followed by the sound of frantic footsteps.

"B-B-B-Big Brooooooo!!!!"

"What is it?! An enemy attack?!"

Kay hurriedly set Mordred down and reached for his axe, but the person who burst through the door was a pale, terrified Artoria.

Tears welled in her eyes, and her entire body was trembling.

"What's wrong? You're white as a sheet! Are you hurt?!"

As Kay stepped forward and grabbed her shoulders, Artoria, with shaking hands, untied the scabbard from her waist and thrust it toward him.

"L-Look… look at this, Brother…!"

"What's wrong with the scabbard? It's Excalibur..."

The moment Kay instinctively drew the sword halfway from its sheath,

he stopped mid-sentence.

The blade that emerged did not radiate the sacred, dazzling golden light characteristic of Excalibur.

It wasn't just that it lacked light… it was a crude fake, painted to look identical on the surface, but utterly devoid of even a single drop of mana.

"……Huh?"

Kay stared in bewilderment, looking back and forth between the fake sword and Artoria's face.

"I… I lost it……."

Artoria confessed in a tiny, fading voice, her expression suggesting that her entire world had collapsed.

"Yesterday, while training by the river, I set it on a rock for a moment… and when I came back from drinking some water… the real Excalibur was gone, and this cheap fake was stuck there instead… Waaaaah!"

"……."

"And the scabbard, Avalon, is a fake too! It's just a counterfeit with a tiny bit of mana in it!"

The prophesied King who would save Britain.

The great King of Knights who wielded the strongest holy sword, forged by fairies from the core of the planet.

It was an unbelievable bombshell: she had left the symbol of her nation and her own alter ego by a local riverbank and had it swapped for a toy.

Exactly like Gilgamesh losing the Elixir of Immortality to a snake while taking a bath.

"……Haaaaah."

Kay slapped his forehead and let out a sigh so deep and colossal it felt as if the walls of Camelot might crumble.

He had worked so hard to fix Artoria's mental state and help her put on some weight, only for her to do something this stupid—getting her holy sword stolen right under her own nose.

"You absolute brat!!"

Camelot's peaceful afternoon, courtesy of the foolish king's absurd loss, once again descended into a chaotic scene of madness.

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