"Leaving you alone still isn't entirely safe. How about this I'll have Melusine and Gawain accompany you."
After some consideration, Morgan decided that sending Galahad alone wasn't the most prudent choice. So, she resolved to assign two more people to join him.
With the three of them working together, their combined strength would be nothing short of terrifying.
Even without his triple-speed enhancement, Gawain's current power was still formidable.
Whether it was Mordred or even Vortigern, neither would stand a chance against them.
Morgan was still somewhat curious.
What exactly was the deal with this Servant?
And why hadn't Mordred come to her aid?
Wasn't she, after all, his birth mother?
Instead of helping his own mother, he was assisting others against her.
How utterly filial of you!
You little!
Hmph!
Morgan thought to herself.
Then, she turned back, wanting to check on how Lot was doing.
He had drunk so much earlier she needed to make sure nothing was wrong.
Even though their earlier conversation about Mash had revealed why Lot had referred to Lancelot as "father-in-law."
That guy…
But even so, he was still the horndog she loved, and she wouldn't allow him to suffer.
She had already arranged for maids to tend to Lot, but perhaps it was better if she took care of him personally.
With that in mind, Morgan made her way back to Lot's chambers.
Lot had sobered up slightly.
And now,
He was feeling rather unwell.
[I should've known better than to drink so much. I didn't expect that even though my physical abilities have improved, my alcohol tolerance hasn't increased at all.]
He mused internally.
At the same time,
He recalled what had happened earlier.
His wife had come to see him, hadn't she?
She had asked him some questions, and he had answered them.
But those answers… probably hadn't been in his best interest.
[Or rather, I might've said something incredibly reckless.]
Hearing Lot's thoughts from outside, Morgan's lips curled into a cold smile.
Indeed, you did say something incredibly reckless.
But since I know it was just thoughtless rambling, I'll let it slide.
Morgan thought to herself.
Then, she stepped into the room.
Looking at the still-dazed Lot, she smiled and said, "Horndog, how are you feeling? Sobered up yet?"
"Mostly." Lot nodded lightly. Then, remembering the earlier incident, he quickly added, "Ah, right I might've said some nonsense while drunk. Just pretend you didn't hear any of it, okay?"
"Don't worry, I'll act like I heard nothing."
Morgan replied with a soft laugh.
Then, she walked over to Lot and poured him a cup of warm water.
"Mmm, as expected of my wife."
Lot's courage had grown considerably. Feeling Morgan's attentive care, he didn't suspect any ulterior motives and simply accepted her ministrations without question.
Once Lot had finished the water, Morgan, seeing that he was now mostly fine, continued, "Alright, Lot, let's discuss our children now."
"What are you planning?"
Lot scooted backward slightly.
"After drinking, it's better to hold off on that."
He muttered quietly.
Post-drinking conception was terrible for the fetus Lot remembered this very clearly.
[When having children, it's best to conceive under normal circumstances. Conceiving after drinking is far from ideal. And let's not even mention Mordred, who was entirely created through magecraft.]
…Huh?
Hearing Lot's internal monologue, Morgan's eyes widened.
Wait
What was this pervert saying?
Mordred was entirely created through magecraft?
That was absurd!
Morgan had been planning to slowly coax information about Mordred out of him, but she hadn't expected him to drop such a bombshell.
Mordred was a homunculus created using magecraft?
What in the world was going on?
Morgan pondered this, then smiled and said, "You think I'm like you, with nothing but that on my mind all day? We still need at least two more children. Only then will it be enough."
"Of course."
Lot nodded in agreement.
But internally, he continued:
[Hmm, compared to history, Morgan and I will have three children one more than before. Maybe the last one should also be named Mordred? In the previous world, Mordred was a homunculus Morgan created out of jealousy by magically altering Artoria's gender.]
Hearing this, Morgan couldn't help but widen her eyes further.
So that's how Mordred came to be.
Just how much had she done out of spite in that other world?!
And here she'd thought Mordred was also her and Lot's child.
Sigh…
It seemed she'd have to take proper care of this sudden Mordred.
But what exactly was a Servant?
This was something she'd need to think about carefully.
If she couldn't figure it out, she might have to consult her husband again.
With that in mind,
Morgan glanced at the still-tipsy Lot, wiped his face with a towel, and said, "Alright, get some rest. I still have matters to attend to."
"Got it."
Lot nodded lightly.
At that moment, Morgan added with a smile, "Who knows? Maybe tomorrow, I'll have a surprise for you."
"A surprise? As long as it's not a nightmare."
Hearing his wife's words, Lot couldn't help but retort.
Faced with her husband's lack of faith, Morgan reached out and flicked his forehead.
"Scram!"
With that, she turned and left.
All that remained was Lot, who could only shrug helplessly before collapsing back into bed.
Meanwhile, after their battle with Galahad, Fujimaru Ritsuka and the others hastily retreated to their temporary hideout. There, Lancelot was already waiting.
Seeing them enter, Lancelot asked, "What happened? You look like you've been through something."
"We ran into Galahad."
Mordred answered.
"And then?"
Lancelot pressed.
Hadn't the three of them gone specifically to find Galahad?
To investigate Morgan's situation?
And yet, they'd returned in such a sorry state?
Noticing Lancelot's expression, Mordred paused, then explained, "When we tried talking to Galahad, he tried to force us to go back with him. There was no way we could let that happen, so we fought and barely got away."
In Mash and Fujimaru Ritsuka's eyes, this was a Singularity no matter how unique, it still needed to be corrected. Once the Singularity was resolved, everything before them would vanish.
At the very least, these memories would disappear.
Lancelot glanced at Mash and said with a smile,
"Well, it seems Galahad also relied on instinct to sense something was off about you."
Then, in a teasing tone, he added,
"Yep, your luck really is terrible."
Hearing this, Fujimaru Ritsuka couldn't help but roll her eyes.
"I know our luck is bad. But we still have to deal with what comes next."
"Dealing with it is simple."
Lancelot thought for a moment before replying.
"How?"
"Just charge straight in from the front."
Lancelot grinned.
"If you have the strength, then change things directly. If not, how else do you plan to alter this history? I doubt anyone in Britain right now can help you with this. The kings of Scotland are trembling under Lot's attacks they're in no position to resist."
"We believe that as long as this timeline needs correction, we'll find a way to fix it."
Fujimaru Ritsuka met Lancelot's gaze, her expression resolute.
"I hope you can."
With that, Lancelot pointed outside.
"Because right now, we have enemies to face."
No sooner had he spoken than a squad of Camelot soldiers appeared around their hideout. At the front stood one man and two women.
One of them was Galahad, whom Mordred had fought earlier. The other two were armed young women.
"How did you find us so quickly?!"
Fujimaru Ritsuka exclaimed in shock.
"In Camelot, no one can hide from us."
Galahad replied matter-of-factly.
Of course, he didn't elaborate on the specifics not out of secrecy, but out of sheer embarrassment.
Who would've thought that random vegetable-selling aunties roaming the streets could be such effective informants?
All they had to do was ask around about Mordred's appearance, and the aunties led them straight here.
At that moment, Galahad noticed Lancelot standing off to the side. Seeing him, he spoke solemnly:
"You shouldn't have come."
"I'm only doing what I must."
Lancelot replied uneasily.
Though he knew he was in the right, facing the son he'd abandoned still filled him with guilt.
Seeing his discomfort, Galahad understood.
He knew the truth of his origins now.
But it didn't matter.
As Lancelot had said,
He would do what he must.
Galahad stepped forward to intercept Lancelot,
But Melusine moved ahead of him.
"Sir Lancelot, leave this to me."
She said softly.
"Very well."
Galahad nodded obediently to this woman who, in a way, could be considered a mother to him.
Melusine approached Lancelot, raising her twin swords.
"Come. Our duel remains unfinished. If you can defeat me in swordsmanship, I'll let you leave."
"You chose to side with Morgan?"
Lancelot asked.
"Yes."
Melusine tilted her head slightly before answering.
"Why?"
"Because here, my worth is recognized."
Lancelot knew there was no avoiding this battle.
"In swordsmanship, I refuse to lose to anyone."
He gripped his sword and charged at Melusine.
His blade descended in a fierce slash.
Melusine responded with rapid, precise strikes.
Meanwhile, Mordred, staring up at Gawain who towered over her felt a pang of insecurity.
Why is she so tall?!
Then, her gaze dropped to Gawain's chest.
And why so big?!
So unfair!
"Hey! Your opponent's me!"
Mordred shouted.
"Gladly!"
Gawain, never one to back down from a challenge, immediately drew Galatine.
Seeing the sword, Mordred's eyes widened.
"That sword… You're Gawain?"
She blurted out.
"My name is Gawain."
Gawain replied.
"WHAT?!!!!"
Mordred's voice was thick with disbelief.
Gawain, unfazed, swung Galatine at her.
"You doubt I'm Gawain? Then let my Galatine prove it!"
With each strike, her strength intensified.
Mordred blocked desperately.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Their holy swords clashed repeatedly.
But with each exchange, Mordred grew more strained.
This world's Gawain though now a woman was even stronger than the Gawain of her past.
This was pushing her to her limits.
"But I'm the Knight of Treachery, Mordred! I won't lose to any other Knight of the Round Table!"
Hearing this, Gawain's strikes grew fiercer.
"Knight of Treachery? You'd betray your own king?"
Finally, Galahad turned to Mash.
"Miss Mash, forgive me I must attack. I hope you'll defend well with your shield."
He spoke gently.
"Understood, Sir Galahad. I'm ready."
Mash nodded solemnly, raising her shield to meet his assault.
Galahad began his attack.
The remaining soldiers surrounded Fujimaru Ritsuka.
Their spears pointed at her.
This girl was Fujimaru Ritsuka not some "Gudako."
Against armed foes, she stood little chance.
Faced with Camelot's soldiers, Fujimaru raised her hands in surrender.
"Don't mind me! Just watch the others fight. Whoever wins their battles will decide my fate."
The soldiers nodded in unison.
They encircled Fujimaru, observing the ongoing duels.
Soon, the results became clear.
The original couldn't defeat the imitation Lancelot lost to Melusine.
In the sisterly duel between Gawain and Mordred, the elder sister emerged victorious.
Mordred lay on the ground, unable to move.
As for Galahad and Mash's battle…
Well, it could hardly be called a battle.
More like a spar.
Galahad swung his sword, and Mash blocked with her shield.
Their clash was almost harmonious.
Seeing the other fights conclude, Galahad spread his hands.
"It seems our battle is over. Will you continue resisting?"
"Very well. I hope you'll treat us fairly."
Mash lowered her weapon.
Galahad nodded. "Rest assured, we only wish to uncover the truth. King Lot and Queen Morgan are not the type to mistreat prisoners. You have my word."
"And what if you encounter troublemakers?"
Fujimaru asked curiously.
"Oh, we hang them."
Gawain chimed in.
"…"
No one knew how to respond.
But with the battle decided, Galahad and the others escorted Lancelot's group back to Camelot.
…
In the castle, Morgan had already begun making preparations.
Since this was her first time meeting her youngest child, Morgan had prepared a banquet.
She quickly woke the chefs and ordered them to prepare a late-night feast.
"Your Majesty Morgan, we have accomplished our mission and brought back Mordred and his companions."
Just as the midnight meal was being prepared, Galahad entered with the captives.
Upon seeing Morgan, Galahad immediately reported their success.
Hearing this, Morgan replied, "Good work. You've done well. Come, join us for the meal later."
"Understood."
Galahad was no stranger to dining here. Faced with Morgan's invitation, he naturally agreed.
Then Galahad ordered Fujimaru Ritsuka to be brought in.
Since they had surrendered peacefully, the prisoners weren't shackled as they entered.
At this moment, Fujimaru Ritsuka and Mash finally saw Morgan in person.
Looking at her, they simultaneously sensed both the majesty of a monarch and the warmth of a mother.
As for Mordred, her gaze at Morgan carried unusual emotions.
This is my mother?
She feels... different!
Though their faces were similar, their auras were completely dissimilar.
This version felt genuinely affectionate!
Seeing Mordred hesitate, Morgan smiled and said, "Come now, Mordred. Remove your helmet. Isn't it disrespectful to keep it on when meeting me?"
"Huh?"
Hearing Morgan's words, Mordred's eyes widened in shock.
Morgan...
She knows about me.
And she's treating me with unexpected kindness.
Since when did I deserve this?
Mordred thought to herself.
"Is something wrong? Now that you're here, don't you wish to speak with me?"
Seeing Mordred's hesitation, Morgan pressed the question.
"No, nothing's wrong."
Mordred shook her head quickly.
Internally, she was astonished:
This Morgan knows far too much.
Gritting her teeth, Mordred removed her helmet, revealing her face.
Observing her features, Morgan thought:
Hmm, she resembles both me and Artoria, but she's nowhere near as handsome as that husband of hers. In this world, that husband of hers is truly the most beautiful.
Outwardly, however, she maintained the stern expression of a strict matriarch in her forties or fifties.
"That's better," she remarked.
Then she gestured to the table.
"Let's eat," Morgan declared.
"Great! I'm starving," Fujimaru Ritsuka said, patting her stomach.
"Don't worry, you'll be thoroughly satisfied. I've had the chefs prepare the most authentic British cuisine of this era."
Seeing their hunger, Morgan smiled and ordered the servants to bring out the dishes.
There were many dishes, and the variety was impressive:
Soup dumplings with paper-thin wrappers so translucent one could see the filling. A single bite released a burst of savory broth, followed by tender, perfectly balanced meat that melted in the mouth.
Salted duck with snow-white, delicate skin rich yet not greasy, fragrant and crisp with a tender texture.
Shumai with emerald-green wrappers as thin as parchment after steaming. One gentle bite pierced the surface, revealing a filling of shrimp, chives, and egg refreshing and light. The lingering aroma of shrimp left the palate thoroughly satisfied.
Roasted meat with golden-brown, crispy skin glistening with savory juices under the light. The tantalizing aroma made mouths water and fingers twitch with anticipation...
"Wait a minute."
While Lancelot showed no reaction to the tableware and food, Fujimaru Ritsuka and Mash immediately noticed something odd.
"Um... isn't this Chinese cuisine?" Fujimaru asked Morgan.
Hearing this, Morgan's smile didn't waver.
She maintained an expression of complete incomprehension, as if she had no idea what they were talking about.
That husband of hers... I don't know where he got these Chinese recipes, but now we've been found out. This is awkward.
Internally, however, Morgan was grumbling.
Meanwhile, Fujimaru and Mash exchanged glances, realizing the situation.
This Morgan possesses knowledge spanning over a thousand years into the future.
And not just about Britain.
Given how little British cuisine had improved over a millennium...
She must have acquired extraordinary knowledge, altering Britain's history.
Now they understood the unusual things they'd seen in Camelot's castle all creations of Morgan's making.
Because everything bore Morgan's influence, they'd assumed the anomalies were her doing.
As for Lot? Fujimaru's group hadn't suspected him at all.
They began eating.
Everyone, including Fujimaru, dug in enthusiastically.
Mordred struggled with the chopsticks, clearly unused to them.
Fujimaru, however, had no such difficulties she was accustomed to these utensils.
Still, she ate with great relish.
Though Fujimaru had tasted similar dishes in the future, they couldn't compare to Lot's recipes perfected by chefs over years of research.
Moreover, having just saved humanity and immediately encountering this Singularity without a chance to rest, they were particularly eager for this meal.
Even Lancelot ate heartily.
His table manners weren't refined either.
Though he'd spent considerable time in Camelot's court, he'd been imprisoned for most of it.
Such delicious food was a rare treat for him.
Watching their enjoyment, Morgan felt pleased.
Once they'd finished, she turned to Mordred and asked, "Now, will you tell me your true purpose? Are you here to help me build Camelot... or to cause trouble?"
"Huh?"
The cheerful atmosphere instantly froze at her words.
Cause trouble?
Hearing this, Fujimaru immediately set down her utensils.
No matter how delicious the food, her principles remained unchanged.
She met Morgan's gaze and answered solemnly:
"We're here to correct the Singularity in this world. History has been altered, and we must restore it."
Morgan tilted her head. "Oh? So you're saying my actions are wrong?"
Her expression darkened with anger.
This was understandable no one would be happy to have their life's work dismissed.
Fujimaru hesitated, unsure how to respond.
Objectively speaking, this Morgan had treated them exceptionally well.
Unlike previous enemies who attacked on sight, Morgan had captured them peacefully and even served them a feast.
But...
After a moment's thought, Fujimaru replied, "Your rule may not be problematic, but certain changes simply can't be permitted by this world. If left uncorrected, they could drastically impact the planet's history."
"Is that so?" Morgan's voice turned steely. "Then let me make one thing clear: Everything I've done is for humanity's better future. If you seek to undo that, I won't allow it."
I must protect everything I have now.
Especially my life with Lot.
This is my reality.
Even if it exists only because of that husband of hers influence.
The atmosphere grew increasingly tense.
Even Mash instinctively raised her shield, preparing to defend against Morgan's potential attack.
To Mash, the situation seemed on the verge of exploding into violence.
Mordred stepped in front of Fujimaru and said to Morgan, "There's something I need to discuss with you."
"Very well," Morgan agreed.
Then she glanced at Mash, Fujimaru, and oh yes Lancelot behind them.
"As our prisoners, you should know what's expected of you without my saying it."
She paused meaningfully.
"Especially you, Sir Lancelot."
"Cough, cough! Of course I know..."
Lancelot broke into a sudden fit of coughing.
Please, not that dark chapter of my life! I don't want anyone finding out!
But clearly, this embarrassing history had just been exposed to the three from Chaldea.
"The rest of you may leave now," Morgan said to the others.
"Understood," Melusine replied, preparing to depart.
Just as Gawain was about to follow, Morgan added, "Oh, Gawain? Meet Mordred. She's your younger sister."
"What?! My sister?!"
Gawain's face registered shock.
She eyed Mordred suspiciously and asked, "Is she older or younger than Agravain?"
"Agravain's older than me," Mordred grumbled.
Ugh, why must I always be the youngest?
"What?!"
Gawain gave Mordred a strange look before quickly exiting.
Only Morgan and Mordred remained.
Watching Gawain's retreating figure, Mordred couldn't help asking, "I am younger than Agravain, so why did Gawain look at me like that?"
"Because Agravain was just born," Morgan said quietly.
"..."
Mordred fell silent. Then a thought struck her. "Wait, that can't be right. I remember Agravain being less than two years younger than Gawain. How can he have just been born?"
"Gawain isn't even three yet."
"You call THAT a three-year-old?!!!!!"
Mordred stared in disbelief.
"Ehe~"
Morgan flashed a mischievous grin.
Faced with this expression, Mordred didn't know how to react.
After a moment, Mordred said seriously, "You know about my origins, don't you?"
"Of course. You're my daughter," Morgan nodded.
That husband of hers already told me everything.
I know it all.
Seeing Morgan's confirmation, Mordred pressed on: "Then tell me if things proceed normally in this world, will I be born again?"
"Yes... and no."
Morgan pondered before answering.
"Huh? What does that mean?"
Mordred looked confused.
"It's simple. There will be a Mordred born in this world but she won't be Artoria's offspring. She'll be my child. Mine and Lot's."
Morgan spoke with absolute certainty.
"What?! You two are that close?!"
Mordred gaped at the revelation.
"Obviously. He's my husband," Morgan retorted, rolling her eyes.
She then reached out and rapped Mordred sharply on the head for emphasis: "And remember he's your father too. You will show him proper respect. I don't care if you choose to keep trying to 'correct history' or decide to help me instead. But you will treat Lot with respect."
Strangely, though this was her first time striking Mordred, Morgan found the motion came naturally.
Mordred's height similar to her sister's made the gesture particularly satisfying.
"Ow, ow, ow !"
Mordred clutched her head in protest.
Yet despite the pain, she felt something unfamiliar an emotion she'd never experienced before.
My original mother would never have done this.
Still, she voiced her doubts:
"But... I remember Lot... Dad wasn't particularly remarkable?"
"What do you mean 'not remarkable'? He's the most remarkable of all " Morgan caught herself mid-rant and quickly composed her expression. "Ahem. He has many talents you simply haven't witnessed yet."
"Oh."
Mordred studied her mother suspiciously.
That first part sounded weird.
Better not dwell on it.
I feel like learning the truth would completely shatter my image of her.
"I still don't believe it," Mordred insisted.
"Believe what you want. Just know that when I give birth to little Mordred here, she'll adore Lot."
Morgan's gaze turned threatening.
Mordred hastily covered her head, peeking through her arms as she warned:
"Mom, let's be clear we're enemies here! You can't use this tactic on me! I've fought back against elders before, you know!"
"Oh really?"
Morgan's voice dripped with menace.
"Y-yes..."
Mordred's voice faltered under Morgan's glare.
Something terrible will happen if I keep talking.
At that moment, a drowsy Lot wandered in. Seeing Morgan with an armored figure, he studied Mordred curiously.
"Huh? Morgan, who's this knight? Wait Mordred?! What are you doing here?"
He stared at Mordred in shock.
Meanwhile, Mordred scrutinized Lot.
After hearing her mother praise him so highly, she had to evaluate him properly.
Her assessment?
Disheveled robe, messy hair, unremarkable except for his face.
And reeking of alcohol.
This guy?
What's so special about him?
She conveniently ignored that Lot had recognized her instantly.
"What's going on?"
Lot wondered if he'd drunkenly slept for decades.
"Oh, just someone we caught spying on Artoria tonight."
"Her?"
Lot looked genuinely surprised.
[I haven't been fishing recently, so Mordred didn't get summoned like Paimon or Galahad. How did she get here?]
Morgan continued, "And she's not alone. I've had the others detained too."
"Who else?"
Lot vaguely recalled his earlier drunken conversation with Morgan.
"Lancelot."
[Again? How many times has he been arrested now?]
"Also Mash and Fujimaru Ritsuka."
Lot thought silently: [...So we've captured Chaldea's Master. Wait why are they even here?]
The mystery troubled him.