"As long as someone can pull the sword, they'll become king?"
Hearing Kay's words, Artoria looked just as surprised.
"Wouldn't that mean…"
"Anyone could become king?"
"You think it's that easy?"
Kay glanced at his "little brother."
"That sword can only be drawn by the one who's been chosen!"
"You think it's some random stick?"
"But…"
Kay stretched a bit.
"The prophecy didn't specify any restrictions on who could try."
"Anyone who wants to can give it a shot."
"Hmm—"
Artoria blinked as if something clicked in her mind.
She looked over at Ian and saw him already looking at her.
Their eyes met, and an unspoken understanding passed between them.
"Brother Kay, I'm heading out!"
"…"
"I'm going too."
Whoosh, whoosh.
Artoria and Ian bolted off, one after the other.
Only Kay was left behind.
Watching them go, Kay frowned.
"Couldn't they at least pretend they weren't obvious?"
---
Meanwhile…
Along the village road…
"Ian, did you hear?"
Artoria asked excitedly.
"If you can draw that sword, you become king—"
"Yeah, I heard."
"You want to try, right?"
"Hehe~"
Artoria scratched her cheek shyly.
"Was I that obvious?"
"You were." Ian nodded.
"You really just said it straight out!"
Artoria pouted.
"So you mean—"
"Go."
"I'll go with you."
"…"
She had planned to ask him, but hearing him say it first still touched her.
"You're not even going to think it over?"
"No need."
"If you want to go, I'll go with you."
"…"
Such a simple answer.
Artoria's face turned slightly red.
"Got it."
"Then let's head out as soon as we can!"
"Okay."
A short exchange, yet it carried a clear and honest emotion.
Artoria felt full of energy.
However—
The journey wasn't that simple.
At least when she tried to get Kay's help, it was hard to come up with a convincing enough reason to make him agree.
But Kay didn't seem to care at all.
"Oh, you're heading out?"
"Then go."
"Doesn't matter where you go."
Despite his harsh words, he still provided a carriage and food for the road, enough for both her and Ian.
It was like he knew everything… or nothing at all.
—
Late at night. Campfire crackling.
It was already the second day since they had left the village.
Reaching the capital city of Camelot, where the Sword of Selection lay, wasn't a quick trip.
By the fire, Artoria nibbled on rye bread, her eyes glittering like gemstones.
"Ian, do you think I can do it?"
"You mean draw the sword?"
"Yeah!"
She nodded.
The firelight danced in her golden hair.
"It just sounds like it's not going to be easy."
"I don't know."
Ian took a bite of his own rye bread.
"So I can't say."
"You're not even going to encourage me?"
Artoria pouted.
"That's kind of harsh, you know?"
"But I think you don't need my encouragement. Artoria, you've always been determined from the very beginning, haven't you?"
Ian looked her in the eye.
"So, even though I don't know if you can do it—I believe you can."
"…"
"…"
"If you want to say something like that, just say it straight."
Artoria glared at him.
"Saying all that before expressing what you want just makes you sound fake."
"I really do want to... but I also truly believe in you."
"...You..."
Artoria sighed helplessly. She glanced around to confirm they were alone in the quiet night, then nodded.
"Just for a little while... We have to travel again tomorrow."
"Okay."
By the fire, the girl's shoulder slipped from her plain tunic. It was a sight that, once seen, was hard to forget. But even though it was beautiful, it wasn't the focus of this moment.
Sip—
Sip—
Artoria looked at Ian, who was at her chest. A month ago, she would never have imagined she'd be doing something like this. But now... it had started to feel almost normal. Dragons seemed to have a natural advantage in this kind of thing. If before it could be called biting, now it was clearly an act of affection.
Of course, Artoria wouldn't say that out loud. If Ian found out, he'd be insufferably smug. Come to think of it... did he actually have a tail?
"Alright. I feel much better now."
Just as Artoria was still drifting in her thoughts, she heard Ian's voice.
"That fast...? Why did you..."
She cut herself off, realizing it sounded like she was disappointed he had stopped.
Ian, however, was direct.
"We have to get going tomorrow. I want you to rest properly."
Artoria understood the weight of his restraint. He had stopped himself, suppressing his desire.
"You didn't have to..."
Before she could finish, Ian scooped her up in his arms.
"Let's get back to the wagon."
"Wait—hold on..."
Artoria tried to resist a little but quickly realized she was no match for his strength. She gave up. After all, he was doing this for her. At the very least... she should fix her clothes.
She hastily tried to fasten her tunic, but then noticed Ian had stopped mid-step.
"What are you doing?"
"Don't tell me you changed your mind and want to keep going?"
"If you do, I'll be mad!"
A gust of cold wind blew through.
"Shh. Don't make a sound."
Ian suddenly covered Artoria's mouth. His demeanor had shifted—from gentle to forceful.
Once everything around them had gone quiet, his eyes flashed crimson red.
Artoria could feel it: his body had suddenly grown stronger—visibly so.
She was immediately on alert.
"Ian, what is it?"
"Something unpleasant is nearby."
"What?"