W–What… what am I thinking!?
Mordred was startled by the wild thought that suddenly flashed through her mind.
She carefully glanced at the blonde girl sitting quietly in the living room.
Her face faintly resembled her father's, yet she carried none of that kingly presence. And on top of that—well, her chest was just about as flat as a board.
If that had been her father instead, then the friend beside him would've been the very incarnation of human evil!
Mordred lowered her voice.
"You seem to have a guest at home?"
"Oh, don't mind her," Kirina replied casually. "Just a shameless freeloader—one of Sanjiro's childhood friends."
At the mention of that "freeloader," Kirina couldn't help but feel a swell of resentment.
Ever since that bottomless-pit of a girl started coming over for meals, all the snacks in the house had been vanishing at record speed.
Even a landlord's pantry would run dry at this rate!
The worst part was that, when they first met, the girl had shyly said, 'My appetite's really small, I'll just eat a little.'
Yeah right. A little, as in, a universe at her fingertips?
She looked small and dainty, but her stomach could easily out-eat both Kirina and Sanjiro combined.
At this point, Kirina wasn't worried about anyone trying to "steal Sanjiro"—she was more concerned about being eaten out of house and home!
"Childhood friend, huh…"
Mordred finally relaxed.
Nothing to worry about then.
Her father had only been in Fuyuki City for about a month, and the "guardian" of this friend was just an ordinary local high schooler.
She'd already investigated everything thoroughly while searching for Nameless.
But still—
No matter how much she searched, there'd been no trace of him.
She'd thought he'd continued wandering through history, fighting all manner of terrifying foes.
Yet now, after seeing him appear in those battles against Zeus and the Vanguard… he was clearly here, in the present world.
While Mordred was lost in thought, Kirina called out toward the kitchen:
"Sanjiro! I brought a friend over for dinner. You made enough, right?"
"Oh, don't worry. There's plenty," Sanjiro replied without turning around.
Since that spiky-haired king had come over to mooch food again, of course he'd made extra.
After all, she had the stomach of a Red Dragon.
Without looking up, he asked, "Who's over this time? Illya or Miyu?"
Those three little lolis often played together—and often mooched dinner, too.
Too bad.
Other people's lolis were always better.
His own gave him nothing but headaches and trouble.
Kirina tiptoed up to his ear and whispered, "You're not gonna believe this—but it's the Knight of the Round Table, Mordred!"
"???"
Sanjiro froze. Did he just hear that right?
So today the King of Knights came over… and you somehow managed to bring Mordred home!?
"Hehe, she and I are like sisters! I invited her to come eat!"
Barely suppressing her excitement, Kirina whispered again,
"Surprised? Shocked? Come on, this is a real living Heroic Spirit! You can brag about this for life!"
Her little face shone with pride.
After all, for ordinary people, even meeting a Heroic Spirit up close was like a miracle.
In this modern era where Heroic Spirits walked among men, they were the true idols of humanity—each with millions, even billions of adoring fans.
Even the richest corporations couldn't hype their celebrities enough to compete; Heroic Spirits crushed them all effortlessly, with strength and charisma alone.
And now, one of those top-tier stars was right here, in her home—instantly making this humble apartment shine with glory!
"..."
Sanjiro took a deep breath.
Looking at Kirina's smug little grin, he nearly couldn't resist giving her his famous "snack-thieving brat" smack on the head.
Unbelievable. He'd raised this girl himself—and now she'd gone and brought another problem child home!
Two little disasters under one roof—and with Artoria also in the picture?
He was so, so done for.
Back when he'd defeated Attila, he'd told Mordred that he was busy fighting in secret, protecting human history.
Seventeen years.
Seventeen years of peaceful, ordinary life—no battles, no chaos, just a quiet existence as a normal high schooler in Japan.
If Mordred found out about that now, she'd explode on the spot!
The Battle of Camlann—the one that destroyed Camelot—was about to be replayed right here in this house!
Kirina patted his shoulder comfortingly.
"Relax, Mordred's really nice! She's super friendly with normal people like me, no Heroic Spirit pride at all."
"Nice… huh."
Sanjiro's expression went blank.
Mordred—the girl who'd been spoiled by him since childhood, only to later stab her father in rebellion—
Yes. Truly "nice."
Oh, right.
From one world-ending brat's perspective, the rebellious knight would seem well-behaved and adorable.
Sanjiro fell silent.
One troublemaker was bad enough.
Now there were two.
Yeah… this was the end.
No—stay calm. I can bluff my way through this.
Sanjiro took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He remembered the first time the King of Heroes had come to his house—Gilgamesh, with his all-seeing clairvoyance, had almost failed to recognize him. If not for a deliberate trick on his part, his identity would've stayed hidden.
Compared to that, what could Mordred possibly see through?
Putting on his best poker face, he said evenly, "Why don't you take her to your room for a while? I'll call you when dinner's ready."
"Okay!"
Kirina walked out of the kitchen and called over cheerfully, "Come on, Mordred, let me show you my room! I've got a little surprise waiting for you."
"Oh? What kind of surprise?"
Mordred followed her, stepping into the small, cozy bedroom—
—and froze.
One entire wall was covered with shelves full of Heroic Spirit figures and posters. And right in the center, displayed in pride of place, were figures of herself and her father.
The poses were… painfully familiar.
It was the scene of her kneeling on the ground as her father placed a crown upon her head.
Next to them stood Gawain, watching with his usual sunny grin.
Kirina beamed.
"I know you've always worked hard for your father's approval, so I saved up to buy this limited-edition figure set! Super expensive, but totally worth it!"
She'd actually wanted the whole Round Table set, but… well, her wallet had declared bankruptcy after just these three.
"…Thanks."
Mordred's expression turned complicated.
That very scene had become infamous online after Alaya released the Sacred Round Table domain. The "Lion King" was being criticized everywhere, and to calm the public outrage, and her father had staged the coronation—symbolically "passing the crown" to Mordred.
Except… everyone knew what it really was.
That wasn't a crown—it was a green hat!
To make matters worse, Gawain had been right there watching!
Mordred's brows twitched.
This scene… it's way too accurate.
Don't tell me—
Could this girl have the same clairvoyance as that rotten Merlin?!
Her eyes drifted across the room again—until they landed on a scrapbook next to the display.
"What's this?" she asked, pointing curiously.
"Oh, that? A photo album—mostly pictures of me and Sanjiro," Kirina said with a bashful smile, walking over to open it.
Inside were photos documenting the years they'd spent together.
The very first one showed a tiny five-year-old Kirina standing inside a garbage bin, looking up at a boy.
"Ahem, that jerk kept saying he picked me out of the trash, so he took that photo for 'proof,'" Kirina explained, blushing in embarrassment.
She'd once asked where she really came from, but his only answer was always: the trash bin.
And if she pressed him further, he'd spin elaborate nonsense about "finding her after saving the world," claiming she was a "sealed demon god" he kept by his side to prevent future disasters.
"Can you believe that? I'm supposed to be some world-ending villain? Me?!" she huffed, puffing up her cheeks.
No way!
Absolutely impossible!
Mordred flipped through the album in silence. Each page showed small, ordinary moments — the quiet happiness of two people growing up together.
From when ten-year-old Sanjiro first took in five-year-old Kirina, to the present day—eight years of memories captured in photos.
"Childhood friends, growing up together… That's nice," Mordred said softly, a faint envy in her tone.
"Yeah," Kirina murmured, eyes warm. "You know that feeling when the whole world abandons you, but one person still stays by your side?"
She remembered that day so clearly—standing alone on the street, then being taken home by the boy who'd changed her life.
He was her family. Her home. The one person she'd never let anyone steal away.
Not even a Heroic Spirit.
"…I understand," Mordred said with a faint, wistful smile.
Her own story began in the shadows—born from Morgan's schemes, sent to infiltrate Artoria's court as a weapon.
It was Nameless who had trained her, who'd cooked for her, who'd made her laugh.
He had been her hero.
But in the end, she lost everything.
Her father never acknowledged her. Her hero, taken away.
And in that despair, she'd raised her blade and brought down the kingdom her father loved most.
Maybe… that was what it meant to grow up.
That faint kinship in pain made her look at Kirina differently—more fondly, even protectively.
"Then," Kirina said brightly, "I hope you find Nameless soon—and that you two can be together."
Mordred chuckled. "I hope so too… though it's not easy. If only I had the clairvoyance of the King of Heroes or that annoying Flower Magus."
She sighed. Wishful thinking.
—
Meanwhile, outside the neighborhood—
Gilgamesh stood atop a streetlight, gazing toward the apartment complex.
Beneath him, basking dramatically in the sun, stood Gawain—the so-called Knight of the Sun.
"So?" Gawain asked eagerly, eyes sparkling. "Did they start fighting—cough, I mean, is everything fine in there?"
Gilgamesh smirked.
"Truly, you pursue pleasure as purely as any beast of instinct."
"I—absolutely not!" Gawain said righteously. "I'm merely concerned for Britain's future! Those two represent the kingdom's present and future! A clash between them could shake the very nation!"
If I had clairvoyance, I wouldn't need to sneak around with you to watch the show! he thought bitterly.
Praise the sun—but seriously, could someone please bless him with clairvoyance already?!
"No need to explain," Gilgamesh said with a lazy smile. "Your heart's written plainly on your face. For now, everything's calm—no conflict yet."
Gawain sighed. "No fight… cough, I mean, good. Good."
He'd been ready to dash in and "rescue Mordred" (totally not for the drama).
After all, she'd never beaten the King once—and now that the King had ascended to Grand Saber, the odds were worse than ever.
Even if Artoria were to kiss that man right in front of her, Mordred probably wouldn't even notice… or worse, she'd cheer them on!
Wait—why did that thought make him happy?!
No, no, I'm the Knight of the Sun, symbol of goodness and virtue! I don't enjoy this kind of chaos!
…It's all Mordred's fault anyway!
She's the one who started the rebellion and doomed Britain!
Gilgamesh ignored his rambling.
His clairvoyance hummed in operation, trying to perceive what was happening inside.
Unfortunately, his clairvoyance could only see the future, not the present.
At times like this, that lazy nightmare's "present-seeing" clairvoyance would've been far more useful.
That perverted watcher probably spent all day peeping at other people's drama.
Gilgamesh sighed.
I'll have to beat her up when I see her next time.
He glanced back toward the apartment.
If I stole that damn magus's Grand Caster seat… maybe I'd finally get clairvoyance like that.
—
Inside the apartment—
The dining table was already full of delicious dishes.
Sanjiro, ever the picture of calm, said, "Nothing fancy—just a simple home-cooked meal. Please, enjoy."
He was confident in his cooking skills.
But this situation—Arthur and Mordred sitting at the same table—
This could easily turn into the next world-famous painting:
"The Last Supper."
"Come sit next to me, Mordred!" Kirina called warmly.
She cast a side glance at the other blonde quietly taking her seat—
if only that gluttonous freeloader weren't here…
That girl ate like a black hole. Did she think she was King of Knights or something?
"Sure," Mordred replied calmly, sitting beside her. She looked around the table—and saw the golden-haired girl, so much like her father, already lowering her head in silence…
…and beginning to eat.
Her every movement was elegant—
But her eating speed was terrifying.
While Mordred was still sizing her up, the girl across from her had already finished an entire bowl of rice.
She handed the bowl over and said softly,
"Another bowl, please."
"Sure thing, take your time. I made plenty this time," Sanjiro replied, filling the bowl to the brim — and even adding an extra scoop so it was slightly heaping.
He then gestured to the table. "You all, eat as much as you like. Don't be shy."
"Thank you."
Mordred nodded slightly.
She could clearly see that despite his calm exterior, the boy seemed a little uneasy — clearly informed by her friend about her true identity.
That was understandable.
After all, he was just a normal high school student.
To have a Heroic Spirit sitting across from him and still manage to stay composed — that was already impressive.
Although… perhaps that was only because it was her.
If it were her father or the King of Heroes sitting here, he'd probably have fainted already.
Mordred picked up her chopsticks.
She had been here long enough to get the hang of using these two little sticks.
She picked up a piece of meat and put it in her mouth.
She hadn't expected much — just wanted to "experience the common folk's life" — but her eyes lit up the moment she tasted it.
This ordinary high schooler's cooking skills… were way too good, easily on par with professional chefs!
Before she knew it, the bowl in front of her was already empty.
Just as she was wondering whether she should ask for seconds, the girl beside her spoke first, handing over her own empty bowl without hesitation.
"Another bowl."
"Uh… I'll have one too, please," Mordred said a little awkwardly, handing hers over.
"Alright, eat plenty," Sanjiro said, quickly filling both bowls again, each one overflowing just to make sure there was enough.
He was the exact opposite of those stingy cafeteria ladies whose hands trembled every time they served food.
And then—
Kirina stared in astonishment at the two girls.
The phrase "Another bowl!" echoed over and over again as if they were competing to see who could eat more.
By the time she realized what was happening, the dishes on the table were completely wiped clean.
"???"
Kirina's little head filled with question marks.
Where did all that food go? There were so many plates and bowls of rice!
Sure enough, hesitation leads to defeat — she hesitated for just a moment, and the two of them devoured everything.
Artoria put her hands together, a faint blush tinting her cheeks.
"Thank you for the meal."
"Thank you for the meal," Mordred followed suit.
It had been such a simple dinner, yet it stirred a strange nostalgia within her—
No, not her mother's cooking…
It was Nameless's.
The meals Nameless made for her back then were never this delicious.
Of course, back then there weren't any seasonings at all — being able to eat was good enough.
After the hearty meal and a brief rest, the two guests from Britain prepared to leave.
Kirina suddenly said, "Wait a sec, Mordred, I'll go get the stuff I prepared for you earlier."
She quickly dashed upstairs.
Earlier she had promised Mordred she'd lend her some manga, novels, and games — something to help pass the time when she got bored.
Sanjiro, seeing the dinner come to an uneventful close, finally relaxed a little.
For a meal that should've been simple, it sure had felt nerve-wracking — like his last supper.
If Mordred had figured out his and Artoria's true identities, she would've exploded on the spot.
Luckily, everything went smoothly. There was nothing left to worry about—
Or so he thought.
Mordred smiled faintly.
"You must be European, right? From Britain, perhaps?"
Her features were clearly European, but with a hint of Asian softness — a charm unique to someone of mixed heritage.
"Yes."
Artoria replied quietly.
"I heard from Kirina that you two are… childhood friends?" Mordred pressed on.
She knew her friend harbored feelings for her guardian, so she asked on purpose.
After all, the two of them were quite similar — both in love with someone they shouldn't be.
And looking at this beautiful blonde girl… could she also have feelings for the high school boy beside her?
"Yes," Artoria said calmly.
Then she walked over to Sanjiro, gently fixing his collar.
And then—
Under Sanjiro's wide-eyed, frozen stare—
She wrapped her slender arms around his neck, rose slightly on tiptoe, and kissed him.
It was a bold, unrestrained kiss — as if she wanted to melt completely into him.