When King Arthur was crowned in Rome, the spot where Lucius last stood welcomed a new visitor—Aslan.
A magic sword, etched with vine patterns, was still embedded in the earth—but its owner was gone.
After a moment's thought, Aslan drew the magic sword free and tucked it into his magical costume.
With all believers in the Roman pantheon gone, no one else could wield the sword. Better to keep it safe, rather than let it vanish into the dust of history. Perhaps one day, he would find a worthy new owner.
Perhaps because King Arthur's victory over Lucius was fresh, no one dared approach the battlefield—especially not Roman citizens or soldiers.
Knights from Arthur's Round Table guarded the site vigilantly. Even for Aslan, getting here wasn't easy—though the knight on guard was one he had rescued during his battle against his own disgraceful father.
Aslan no longer recalled their faces clearly, but these knights had become his followers. When he requested entry to the ruins, they eagerly repaid his kindness.
Moreover, the knights knew the blond youth before them had a close—if unclear—relationship to their king. Even if Aslan took the Roman emperor's sword, the king would say nothing.
Opinions about Aslan's connection to Arthur varied, but one thing was clear: the two looked alike, like relatives.
Aslan placed a flower where the sword had stood and remained silent a moment, then smiled softly.
"Well, now that you've fallen into eternal sleep, you can finally look for Estee Lauder in your dreams—after all, Estee Lauder is a man you could never have in real life."
Standing, Aslan brushed off his clothes.
"See you again someday, Roman Sword Emperor."
For his return to Britain, Aslan didn't plan to ride Melusine or pilot his masterpiece. Instead, he intended to hitch a ride with Artoria—strictly speaking, on a boat—and maybe find a chance to knock her out and send her to a utopia.
As for Mordred... well, beat her up and toss her into a utopia. How the mother-daughter relationship would be repaired afterward was someone else's nightmare. After all, his flawed education had led Altria to this point, so he owed her some compensation.
After stowing the magic sword and paying tribute to Lucius, Aslan greeted the guards and arranged to be taken to Artoria. It had been two or three years since they defeated his disgraceful father.
In those years, Aslan wandered the continent, writing a travelogue of the Paladin's journey and fulfilling his ultimate wish. Now, his cousin's legendary chapter was nearing its close.
"King, we have guests."
Belvedere and Kay—no longer full-time Round Table civil servants—turned as a few knights followed Artoria. Gawain remained in Britain, nursing a serious injury. Perhaps his presence gave Artoria peace of mind as she led the eastern assault on Rome.
Yet none expected Mordred's courage.
Altria's face showed surprise upon seeing Aslan. At least to her, they could be considered friends, though she had long known from Merlin that Aslan was journeying the mainland.
When Artoria set out for Rome, she never imagined meeting Aslan during the campaign—after all, the continent was vast, and Merlin had said Aslan pursued a cherished wish.
"Aslan? Has your wish come true?"
Suppressing emotion, Aslan gave a slight wave. "My wish has been fulfilled. I'll show you someday."
Altria nodded. Time and years had left little trace on either of them. It brought back memories of their first meeting—ten years gone in a blink.
Aslan yearned to reminisce, but before he spoke, a wounded soldier rushed into the tent.
"Knight Gawain! Urgent intelligence!"
Handing a lacquer-sealed letter to a nearby knight, the messenger collapsed, mission done.
Kay ordered men to carry the fallen soldier for aid, then broke the seal and read. Within moments, his calm cracked, veins bulging with rage—his hands clenched the letter like he wanted to shred it.
"How dare he?! How dare he betray the king's trust! Mordred!!"
Altria took the letter, brows furrowed.
The letter branded King Arthur a sinner blocking the people's happiness, and declared Mordred's rebellion—using his own strength to subdue Camelot's remaining knights.
Kay inhaled deeply, regaining composure though veins still bulged.
"King, though we want to consolidate Gaul, it seems we must forgo returning to Britain—for now."
Altria glanced toward Britain and commanded firmly, "Prepare to return home!"
-End Chapter-
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