Artoria's Parenting Class is now in session!
What should you do if your child's grades are always poor?
Just use Merlin-brand Excalibur! One Noble Phantasm, guaranteed results forever—moms, be sure to remember this!
Huh? You say even mom doesn't know how to teach?
Hmm... Can't be helped. Just wait for death then. Goodbye.
Without even a moment of guilt for being caught, the onlookers' enthusiasm immediately rushed to the scene and began firing questions.
Question One: The legendary King of Knights—does she really not know how to teach a child?
"—It's not that I don't know! It's just that Merlin taught me too much, so I don't know where to start!"
Artoria waved her hands, dispelling the images forming in Sakatsuki's mind, desperately trying to salvage her dignity. "For me, elementary school arithmetic and advanced calculus are about the same difficulty—meaning I genuinely don't know where to begin teaching!"
As everyone knows, though Merlin lacks the emotions befitting a human, he holds a special fondness for Artoria. During the thousand years her ahoge spent in Avalon, how could he possibly have taught her nothing? The dream-walking incubus, who has observed the mortal world through his Clairvoyance, could impart profound wisdom even through casual storytelling.
To put it bluntly, the current Artoria could easily obtain multiple Ph.D. degrees without breaking a sweat. But precisely because of the excessively long accumulation of knowledge, she has mastered everything to perfection. Even when teaching "1+1=2," she might inadvertently segue into the Fibonacci sequence.
The real question is—can a student who needs to be taught "1+1" even comprehend what a mathematical sequence is?
"Truly, that old bastard Merlin is the most useless of all," Sakatsuki remarked as he curiously flipped through an encyclopedia. Beside him, Jeanne d'Arc's eyes brimmed with envy.
Ah, the legendary Kingmaker—how wonderful. I wish someone had taught me like that too...
So prayed a certain village girl who couldn't even solve Laeticia's math problems.
"Haah—so you were watching outside the church the whole time, Master?!"
Meanwhile, Mordred grabbed Kairi by the collar, baring her teeth, her face red as an apple. "You bastard! Have you no conscience?! I got locked up here to protect you, you know! Let's go, hurry up and leave!"
"But I think you were having fun..." Kairi raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Seriously though, knowledge is just as crucial a weapon for a ruler. And right now, your father—despite her busy schedule—has carved out time to teach you. Are you really going to walk away from this?"
Kairi, ever the seasoned father figure, expertly avoided Mordred's triggers while striking right at her heart with just two sentences.
This was her father—not the one always at war or stuffing her face with food! This was Artoria, who during her reign wouldn't even spare her a second glance (and in Chaldea, it wasn't much different). Yet now, on the eve of the decisive battle, she had cast aside their factional conflict to seriously attempt educating her!
Once this realization sank in, Mordred nearly burst out laughing. But interestingly, she didn't storm off. Instead, while doing her best to raise Artoria's blood pressure, she obediently stayed put in the church, refusing to leave no matter what.
As for Artoria, she was even more amusing—before Sakatsuki and the others arrived, she had gripped Excalibur five times, swung Avalon three times, and attempted to use her released form or Rhongomyniad over a dozen times... Yet even now, she remained visibly furious, without ever actually landing a single Noble Phantasm on Mordred.
"It's just like a parent-teacher conference..." Sakatsuki overheard Jeanne—or rather, Laeticia—muttering under her breath, and couldn't help but twitch his lips.
"Feeling disillusioned? The legendary King Arthur and Mordred from ancient tales—they aren't locked in a deadly standoff upon meeting, nor are they harmoniously reconciled. Instead, they're just bickering over trivial matters—yes, just like any rebellious teenager and a father whose love, though delayed, eventually arrives."
This didn't sound like something Sakatsuki would say. His tone should have been far more sarcastic and merciless.
Laeticia turned back in surprise, only to find Artoria puffing her cheeks as she grabbed the scruff of the young man's neck, dragging him toward the confessional.
"Hurry up, Laeticia!"
"Huh? But, Holy Maiden..."
Out of the corner of his eye, Kairi noticed Artoria and the others leaving, so he abruptly shifted the topic.
"So, what do you think, Saber?"
Reika clapped her hands, signaling Sieg and Astolfo to come over, clearing a space for Kairi and Mordred. Under the sharp gaze of her Master's sunglasses, Mordred felt as if she had been seen through entirely. After fidgeting for a while, she finally spoke.
"It's nothing... Master, do you remember last night?"
"Last night? We left the Fortress of Millennia and drove all the way to Sighișoara overnight." Kairi recalled, puzzled. "What does that have to do with today?"
"Sort of. I figured it out on the way." Mordred's eyes grew distant as she stared at Kairi's confused face, yet her gaze reflected a hazy scene.
It was on a desolate country road, with the car stereo playing some melancholic country music. Yet, amid the silence, Mordred didn't feel the slightest awkwardness.
This situation struck her as almost unbelievable. In her past life, she had never experienced such silence with anyone other than herself. Either the other person would flee, or she would walk away, or they would hate each other to the point of nearly killing one another—most of the time, it was one of these three outcomes.
She had never let her guard down around anyone, nor had anyone ever opened their heart to her. She had always believed that this was simply how life was meant to be—how a knight, how someone named Mordred, was supposed to exist.
"...Hey."
"Hm? What is it?" She wasn't even particularly annoyed by her Master's gruff response. The road was nearly empty, and even the once-noisy music now only emphasized the silence.
"...Oi, I'm asking what's up with you?" Kairi sounded baffled. After all, she had only called out to him without actually asking anything.
So, what had she been about to ask?
"Ah... What was I going to say? I forgot."
"Humans often act this way, but do Servants do the same?"
"Probably. After all, this is our second life—though we don't need to eat or sleep."
"Yet you seem to eat an awful lot—"
"Shut up. It's not because I'm hungry, but out of curiosity for the taste."
"Truly fitting for someone born on the dark isle of food."
"Please don't say such things I can't even argue against, Master."
Boring. Utterly boring. And yet, they continued to talk about such trivial things.
It was genuinely enjoyable—enough to make him think, "This would be even better with some wine." Why had he never engaged in such carefree conversation in his previous life? The answer was obvious: because his father hadn't.
Thus, as the heir to his father's legacy, he naturally avoided what his father had rejected.
But the things his father had never done were so joyful. Had his father refrained from conversation because it was joyful? Or because it wasn't? Or perhaps he deemed it unnecessary? Maybe—it was all of the above.
His father's vision was simply too distant. To build a peaceful nation, he had devoted every ounce of his strength. The knights under his command had also given their all, but their perspectives were far too narrow.
They couldn't break free from the notion that letting the villages in their territory wither was cruel and heartless… They couldn't see the victory that lay beyond. Of course not—because "losing if the villages aren't sacrificed" was merely a hypothetical future. Who was to say victory couldn't be achieved without such measures? Once that thought took root, distrust in the king would fester.
…And it was none other than himself, the traitorous knight, who had stirred them with such words.
The king was noble. The king was alone. That was an undeniable truth. But… perhaps things could have been better if they had simply talked. If they had opened their hearts and deepened their understanding, maybe a different path could have been forged.
"What's wrong? Why the sudden silence?"
"Shut up. A king naturally has worries others can't comprehend."
"Fine, fine. This court magus will obediently keep his mouth shut."
Hearing Kairi say that, Mordred pictured him draped in a suspicious robe, hunched over like an old man, and burst into laughter.
"That doesn't suit you at all! No way, Master! You'd need a complete makeover, starting with that face of yours."
"Hey now. Don't go insulting people's looks. Believe it or not, I'm actually quite self-conscious about this face."
Hearing that, Mordred was slightly taken aback. Though a trivial detail, it deepened her understanding of Kairi just a little more.
After just a few days of living together, she had learned so much about him. How much more could she have known in her past life if she had simply been willing to talk to others?
If only I could speak with the King—would I be able to understand them better?
Even though it was a past long since left behind in the distant horizon, she couldn't help but dwell on this thought.
As if the Fates had glimpsed her tangled emotions, now she stood here, witnessing her father's serious demeanor, his anger, even his helpless and somewhat doting expression...
During her knightly days in Britain, Mordred had never seen Artoria display such a wealth of emotions. Precisely because of this, she clung to these feelings, reluctant to let go.
Meanwhile, Artoria remained completely unaware of Jeanne d'Arc quietly following behind. She dragged Sakatsuki into a corner, clasped her hands together, and pleaded in a near-desperate tone:
"I know you're not in the right state, but please help me, Lord Sakatsuki!"
The meaning behind the ahoge was that Sakatsuki's Assassin persona had undergone changes, while the guilt-ridden Sakatsuki mistakenly thought his affair with Atalanta had been exposed... inexplicably feeling a pang of conscience.
He didn't have to help. As an Assassin, this wasn't his true self—he could easily remain uninvolved, leisurely watching this father-child drama unfold, perhaps offering a comment or two at most. Besides, with the decisive battle tomorrow, aiding in something unrelated to the war went against an Assassin's principles.
Yet, faced with Artoria's rare display of 'desperation' and 'pitiful' expression, Sakatsuki unknowingly followed in Mordred's footsteps.
After all, who could resist an ahoge acting spoiled toward you?
"Understood... I'll help you. Or rather, we will."
"Huh?" Laeticia, hiding by the door, froze as Sakatsuki suddenly appeared before her, casting a shadow over her trembling form with a kind smile.
"Miss, surely you wouldn't want your teacher to think you've forgotten everything you've learned, would you?"
Such an unfamiliar address—had they been discovered?!
Both Laeticia and Jeanne d'Arc were startled internally before being dragged outside by Sakatsuki. Helplessly, she heard him call out:
"Reika, contact Amakusa! How could we pass up this kind-hearted saint's expertise when it comes to education?"
And so, with Sakatsuki deliberately escalating the situation, on the eve of the decisive battle, both the Red and Black factions found themselves unwillingly pulled into a father's re-education of his child.