Deep in the night.
"Speaking of which—"
"You still haven't told me about your mother, what kind of a person is she?"
Poking her head out from under the covers, Artoria looked at Ian on the other bed and asked.
"I'm very curious."
After all, Ian already seemed so strange.
So, just how immensely tolerant must his mother be to have allowed him to become like this?
"My mother—"
Following Artoria's question, Ian carefully recalled Tiamat.
"Mm..."
"She is very powerful."
"I can tell," Artoria said, nodding thoughtfully.
"You're very impressive yourself, after all."
"She also tastes very good."
"That's right, her taste and all..."
"Hm?"
Artoria was about to agree with Ian when she suddenly realized she had just responded to something extraordinary.
"Taste?"
"You mean to say!"
"Your mother, was she actually the first one..."
"Mm."
"..."
Artoria shrank back a little.
"She doesn't dislike it?"
"She doesn't."
"She actually likes it a lot."
"..."
Sensing no lies in his words, Artoria relaxed a little.
"Then, the reason you acted like that... was it because you were used to it?"
"Yes."
"This..."
Artoria rubbed the spot where Ian had bitten her.
Even though he had broken the skin, after just one day, it had already mostly healed.
It seemed that not only did he possess a powerful self-healing ability, but he could also transfer that ability to places he came into contact with.
"So that's how it was."
"Then on that day, why did you suddenly fall from the sky?"
The question that had been weighing on the young woman's mind was finally asked.
All signs pointed to the fact that the Ian before her was by no means a simple existence.
"I was running away."
"Running away?"
"Yes."
"My mother didn't want me to see the outside world. She felt... that as long as I could stay by her side, it would be enough."
To this day, Ian could still remember the almost obsessive look on his mother Tiamat's face before he left.
If I had tried to leave while she was awake, I probably would have been stopped in an instant, right?
"That..."
"So you don't like your mother?"
"No."
Ian shook his head.
"Of course I like her very much."
"But—"
"I don't like the kind of life where you spend your entire existence in the sea."
"So, I escaped."
"..."
Although many things were still unclear, like what the "sea" represented, and what that had to do with him falling from the sky.
But Artoria could feel the determination in his words.
She clutched her blanket, looked at the ceiling, and replied.
"I understand."
"In that case, you should experience more of the life you're pursuing."
"I'll find a way to help you!"
"Eh—"
He was asleep.
They had just been talking a moment ago, yet in the blink of an eye, he had fallen asleep.
Artoria suddenly felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her.
However, she quickly accepted this reality.
To be precise, she realized what the problem was.
Ian didn't seem to be adapted to the land and rivers of Britain.
In that case, it was only natural that he would feel tired.
Artoria sighed helplessly and then closed her eyes as well.
Only—
The next moment, what appeared before the young woman was a miserable scene.
The land was cracked, and the seeds that had been sown had no possibility of growing;
The lakes had dried up, and homeless fish lay there motionless, eventually turning into skeletons.
Sallow and gaunt Britons leaned against collapsed buildings, their hands holding empty sacks.
Endless despair flowed from everyone's eyes, and even speaking seemed to have become a luxury for them.
Artoria had never witnessed such a scene.
Her legs went weak, and she nearly collapsed to the ground.
"Where is this?"
"The Britain of the future."
A reply came from across the deathly silent land.
"A land without a king is destined only for ruin."
"..."
Artoria's eyes widened.
If she hadn't truly grasped the prophecy of choosing a king before...
Then—
Now was the moment she understood its importance.
"Is this our future?"
"It is."
The voice in the dream grew clearer.
"Isn't it terrifying?"
"A future where no one has any hope."
"..."
Artoria felt her heart tighten.
At her core was a kindness that could not be erased.
"Then, as long as there's a new king, it will be alright, won't it?"
"Isn't that what everyone thinks?"
"Mm—"
"Then who will become such a king?"
"I don't know..."
"But, surely there's someone who can do it!"
Artoria said anxiously.
"There must be!"
"Then, what if I were to say that person is you—"
"What would you do?"
"Eh?"
Artoria was stunned for a moment.
Only after confirming she had heard the information correctly did she continue to answer.
"I can't do it, can I?"
"You can, Artoria."
"You are the most suitable king for Britain."
Several flower petals flew through the air.
The cracks in the land gradually disappeared, and the sown seeds sprouted tender green shoots;
The dry riverbeds were once again filled with clear water, and the dead fish regained flesh and bone, swimming leisurely.
The collapsed buildings stood tall once more, becoming even grander than before.
Bells chimed.
The empty sacks in people's hands grew fuller and fuller.
It was the harvested grain, plump and firm.
"Our great king—"
"Our noble king—"
"The king who saved Britain—"
The calls rose and fell, one after another.
Joy was written on everyone's face.
Hope was woven into this very moment.
That mysterious voice slowly began to speak.
"Look—"
"As long as you become the king of Britain, everything will be alright."
"Everyone needs you, Artoria."
"Go—"
"Go and become the hero who saves everyone."
"You would be willing to do that, right?"
In the air, an ethereal hand appeared.
It was an invitation extended to Artoria.
"..."
"I... can save everyone?"
The young woman murmured, her green eyes already tinged with a different color.
Little by little.
Artoria reached her own hand towards the one in the air.
Hope, it seemed, was right before her eyes.
Only—
At the very moment she was about to touch it.
A burst of flame erupted from behind her, interrupting the ritual.
"ROAR—"
A terrifying roar shook everything.
A giant dragon had appeared behind Artoria