In that moment, Morgan finally understood the source of her persistent unease.
There was only one king, so naturally, there should only be one person drawing the sword. That was why she had felt so uneasy when she saw the boy standing next to Artoria. Because he was standing with her.
One person could not break the curse on the sword. But what about two?
Morgan now fully realized the flaw in the spell she had laid with the black crystals. But it was too late. The girl's and the boy's hands were joined.
"Ian, you..." Looking at him behind her, Artoria's eyes were filled with bewilderment. "Are you going to..."
"You want to draw that sword, don't you?" Ian met her gaze. "In that case, I want to draw that sword too. Let's do it together. We'll draw the sword together."
"..."
Artoria's expression became resolute. "Yes, let's draw it together!"
The girl's and the boy's hands clasped tightly. The hilt of Caliburn became the proof of their shared will. The resplendent blade had been waiting. It had been responding to Artoria's call all along. And now, the vicious curse was heard by the boy.
Deceitful—Artoria is not a deceitful person.Lies—Artoria is a very sincere friend.Incompetent—There is no one with more kingly talent than her, who dares to embrace the future of Britain.
"These words are so fragile."
Bearing the malicious words that should have flooded towards Artoria, Ian's arm tensed. The power of the dragon, in that moment, was displayed for the girl.
CRACK—CRACK—
Fine cracks appeared on the ground. They quickly spread, eventually becoming a spiderweb-like pattern that covered the entire square.
"What is this?" "What's happening?"
The knights had never witnessed such a shocking scene. Only Morgan knew what was going on. The vicious curse was like a shackle, firmly binding Caliburn. Even now, with the two of them together, it still held a powerful grip. And that boy, the one drawing the sword with Artoria, was using the simplest, most brutal, yet effective method to break through this restriction.
That's right. He was simply pulling the "shackle" apart with his pure, physical strength.
The cracks in the square were the traces left behind by the breaking curse. What kind of monster is that... Morgan's pupils reflected utter disbelief. In her entire life, she had never seen such a powerful being. Am I not the only one blessed by fate?
While the Princess of Britain was having an existential crisis, Ian had already broken all the restraints for the girl in his arms.
"Artoria."
"I know—Come forth, Caliburn!"
Artoria's green eyes were dyed gold by the brilliant light. The ground of the square shattered completely, followed by a violent tremor. When the shaking subsided, the Sword of Selection was pointing towards the sky.
Held by the two of them as one.
"..." "..."
In that moment, the square fell into a dead silence. No one had ever thought Caliburn would be drawn in such a way. But the silence didn't last long. Ian's roar echoed across the post-rain Britain.
"Raise your heads! Greet your King!"
It was a voice that didn't match his appearance. Even Morgan felt a twinge of fear.
However, it was this silence that made her realize a new problem. Who, exactly, was the king the knights should acknowledge? No one had expected two people to draw the sword together. And yet, both Artoria and the nameless boy had played an indispensable role. To only acknowledge the former's courage to reach out and deny the latter's action would be a desecration of his aid. But to only accept the latter and deny the former who had stepped up first would be an abandonment of courage.
It seemed to be a completely unsolvable dilemma. No matter what, one of them was destined to be denied. Morgan realized this, and the knights realized it too. They looked at each other, not knowing what to do.
But Ian didn't understand any of this. All he knew was that these knights, who had spoken ill of Artoria just moments ago, now showed no signs of apology.
Hiss—Hiss—
Artoria felt him stirring beside her. She quickly grabbed him. "Ian, don't—Everyone just doesn't know which of us to acknowledge."
Artoria looked at Caliburn in her hand. It held both his and her warmth. It was a witness to the moment they joined their strength. "So, don't be angry."
"..."
"I understand," the boy, who had been on the verge of rampaging, calmed down considerably at the girl's simple words. "As long as they know who to acknowledge, it's fine, right?"
"Y-yes..."
"Give me the sword."
"..."
Without hesitation, Artoria handed Caliburn over to him completely. She knew he would never do anything to her disadvantage. But when the next scene unfolded before her eyes, she realized she had still underestimated him.
After taking Caliburn, Ian deliberately raised it high, drawing the gazes of all the knights. Then, under countless pairs of eyes, he turned to look at Artoria. No more words. No flamboyant gestures. The boy performed a knightly salute he had learned from somewhere, kneeling on one knee.
He offered up Caliburn like a treasure. Then came a simple word.
"My King—"
In that instant, all the knights understood the result of this selection.
Silence. Then an uproar.
Though there was some reluctance, the knights still offered their loyalty. "O, new King of Britain—We will follow in your glory."
And in that moment, Morgan finally realized what she was missing. That's right. It was a knight who would dare to take the lead and offer his loyalty to her in a situation like this.
Jealousy. Distortion. Madness.
And it was also in that moment that she heard a distant voice.
"Ian—Where are you—Don't leave Mama behind—"
The black crystal... was speaking?
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