Clang!
Arthur gripped his spear tightly and drove it into a giant serpent. At the same instant, he created an illusion of himself to deceive the creature.
Taking advantage of that, he circled behind it and swiftly advanced along its scaled body. As the serpent opened its jaws to bite the illusion, Arthur raised his spear, and a sudden flash of light burst forth.
His spear pierced deeply into the giant serpent's body.
The creature hissed violently, writhing frantically as it turned its head to bite the human daring to mount it. However, Arthur had already slid down its body, reaching the ice blocks formed by the runes.
His movement was elegant—almost beautiful to watch—but as he touched the ground, he nearly lost his balance and fell.
The serpent twisted again and lunged toward Arthur. Remaining calm, he raised a finger, and a wall of ice formed in midair. Though it wasn't as impressive as the one Scáthach had conjured during their battle, it was more than enough to withstand the attack.
The creature opened its jaws and bit into the ice wall with violence. A strong, unpleasant fishy odor filled the surrounding air. Arthur stepped back a few paces, his hair fluttering in the wind, revealing eyes that now shone with intensity.
Against a creature like that, he wouldn't hesitate to activate Berserker Mode.
Only then could he guarantee his own safety.
The serpent raised its massive tail and slammed it down toward Arthur. He remained calm and lifted his spear to block.
— Boom!
The spear collided with the creature's tail, generating a violent gust of wind. Arthur was sent flying backward by the impact, sliding across the ground as he shouted:
"Lily, switch!"
Artoria, who had been waiting for the perfect moment, drew her longsword. The power of the runes erupted instantly—ice spread across the ground while flames suddenly surged, engulfing the giant serpent in a coordinated assault.
From a high branch, Scáthach watched the battle in silence.
"So? Watching your disciple work so hard—doesn't it give you a great sense of accomplishment?" Morgan stretched slightly as she looked at the woman beside her.
"Or do you feel sorry for them?" she added with a faint smile.
Scáthach kept her gaze fixed on the battle. "Every disciple has to go through this sooner or later. He merely brought that moment forward."
"Well, you've certainly matured a lot in your way of thinking, being able to teach so many exceptional students," Morgan remarked.
Scáthach shook her head slightly. "That's nothing unusual. If he wants to survive in this era, he will inevitably face situations like this once he leaves the Land of Shadows."
"Are you already prepared to let him go?" Morgan turned to her. "If that's the case, why not take the opportunity and hand him over to me? I could make good use of him."
Scáthach shot her a direct look.
"He is Nessa's fiancé."
"He's only a fiancé—they're not married yet," Morgan replied casually. "In this world, power speaks louder than any verbal promise."
Scáthach shook her head once more.
"He must make that decision himself."
"Then he'll certainly say he wants to stay with his master forever." Morgan smiled provocatively. "You're cunning… you knew very well he'd say that. You claim it's for your daughter's sake, but in truth, you just want to keep your disciple by your side."
"I don't have that kind of thought," Scáthach replied calmly. "I only hope that, in the future, he will gain enough strength to defeat me… and then kill me."
Her tone was completely composed, as if she were commenting on something trivial.
"Well, in that case, he can stay with me after he kills you," Morgan said suddenly.
Scáthach: "…"
If that woman hadn't been completely unprepared and clearly without any intention of fighting, Scáthach might have tried to stab her on the spot.
Why does this conversation always end up going in that direction?
"Will you keep your word from before?" Scáthach asked.
"Don't worry—I already said I wouldn't hurt him," Morgan replied with a gentle smile. "After all, I took care of him for so long… how could I harm him?"
"And besides…"
"What?"
"I'm a witch—you know that, don't you?" Morgan asked.
"I've heard," Scáthach replied.
"When I'm with him… I'm not a witch."
---
Another week passed in the blink of an eye.
During that time, they didn't leave the forest, except to change clothes.
In addition, Arthur discovered that Artoria had a surprisingly low sense of self-preservation.
For example, when she bathed in the river, she seemed completely unconcerned about the possibility of him watching. Arthur ended up scolding her for it. To make her understand the danger, he even went as far as playing the villain.
Thanks to that incident, Artoria finally developed a bit more awareness of self-protection and stopped being as careless as she had been at the beginning.
Over the following month, the two gradually adapted to that lifestyle.
"Why do you seem so distracted?" At noon that day, Artoria observed Arthur and noticed that he was visibly unfocused during the battle.
"It's nothing… I just miss home a little," Arthur replied vaguely, staring at the campfire in front of him.
"You miss your master and the girl named Nessa?" Artoria tossed a piece of dry wood into the flames.
"Something like that," Arthur answered.
From time to time, he began to miss his life in the Land of Shadows.
Although the daily training was tedious, at least he had his nightly conversations with his master… well, it wasn't exactly psychological counseling, but for him, those casual talks had the same effect.
And what about Nessa, who used to tease him every day?
What could she be doing now?
Thinking about it, Arthur lifted his gaze to the sky and became momentarily lost in thought.
"I really wish this training would end soon."
"If you don't mind… you can think of me as your older sister too," Artoria said suddenly.
"You?" Arthur turned to look at her but remained silent.
Artoria frowned slightly.
"It's rude to stop talking like that all of a sudden."
"You're more like a younger sister," Arthur replied.
"You're fourteen, and I'm fifteen," he continued. "No matter how you look at it, I can't treat you as my older sister."
"But you can't beat me," Artoria immediately countered.
"But I turn fifteen this year—"
"But you still can't beat me."
"…."
Arthur turned his face away in silence.
Can we keep this conversation pleasant?
I've been risking my life here for over a month… can't you at least be a little nicer to me?
Artoria observed Arthur's sulking expression and, for a brief moment, couldn't hold back a smile.
But when Arthur looked back at her, he found only the same serious and impassive expression as always.
"What is it?" she asked, confused.
"It's nothing…" Arthur replied, staring at her silently.
That change in expression is way too fast…
"Actually… I wish these days would last a little longer," Artoria said softly after a moment of silence, lifting her gaze.
"Are you afraid?" Arthur asked.
She shook her head.
"It's not exactly fear… it's just that I'm not fully prepared yet."
"That is fear," Arthur said with a sigh. "The moment you pull the sword from the stone… you'll become king."
In about two months, the time for the king's selection would arrive, followed by the ceremony of drawing the sword.
It seems… she's still a bit uncertain.
Arthur looked at the now-silent Artoria and felt a faint ache in his chest.
In the end, no matter how determined she was… she was still just a girl.
The atmosphere remained quiet, illuminated only by the flickering light of the campfire and the occasional sparks rising into the air.
"Actually… you don't need to worry so much," Arthur said suddenly. "If you feel lonely, you'll still have me as your knight, right?"
"You?" Artoria snapped out of her thoughts and turned to look at him, her eyes filled with doubt.
"I'm a knight apprentice, remember?" Arthur said. "If you become king, how about granting me a title as a Knight of the Round Table? After all, we're good friends."
He spoke lightly at the end, as if joking… but it didn't sound entirely like one.
"That depends on your own efforts," Artoria replied bluntly.
"How stingy…" Arthur sighed.
But before he could continue, her voice softened slightly.
"However… I believe you have the ability to become a Knight of the Round Table on your own."
By the end of those words, the sadness on her face had eased considerably.
If this person can become a knight by my side… and protect me after I become king…
That… doesn't sound bad at all.
(End of Chapter)