Scáthach watched Arthur yawn sleepily and then close his eyes. She ran her fingers through his hair as her mind replayed her apprentice's words.
Aife...
If you count the years, it has been a very, very long time since her sister left and became Queen of Alba.
During that time, there were many clashes between the soldiers on both sides, and even a small-scale war broke out.
She had never imagined that her apprentice would ask such a question.
Could it be because he met Aife that day?
It seems we need to find time to put an end to this pointless conflict.
Scáthach gazed into the darkness ahead, lost in thought.
Arthur, lying on her lap, scratched his stomach, turned over, and fell back asleep.
Scáthach looked at him, feeling his breathing gradually steady. Her fingers gently caressed his face, a faint smile on her lips.
This child truly likes to depend on others.
Five years ago, Arthur seemed to develop a special reliance on her. Although he often complained during training, he never once gave up.
It could be said that Arthur is the complete opposite of Nessa; one is diligent, while the other tends to be lazy.
The reason he worked so hard was simply because he did not want to disappoint his master.
Talented and hardworking—aside from Cú Chulainn, Arthur is the second person she has ever met with such qualities.
Logically speaking, relying on others should be a sign of weakness, yet surprisingly, she did not dislike the feeling.
Recalling the past, Scáthach gently laid him down on the pillow and quietly left the room.
The moonlight was beautiful. She gazed at its soft glow.
"After spending so much time together, have you ever wondered whether it is family or love?" she murmured, as if speaking to herself.
Is this a subtle hint to myself?
Foolish disciple, do you really think I cannot understand?
At first, she thought Arthur's affection was simply because she was his master. But as the years passed, she finally realized something.
This child seems to be serious.
They trained together every day, and at the end of each session, the way Arthur looked at her often carried an unusual intensity. How could she not notice that gaze?
Scáthach can see the future of others. She once tried to foresee Arthur's future, but she could not—as if it were shrouded in dense fog.
"No matter the outcome, let fate decide its course."
She murmured to herself, then turned and left.
---
That night, Arthur was still fast asleep.
Before long, the darkness before his eyes gradually began to brighten.
A dream...?
Arthur realized it was a dream. Scáthach had been beside him before he fell asleep, and it was impossible for anyone to move him elsewhere.
There was no one in this world who could abduct him right in front of Scáthach, so it could only be a dream.
A lucid dream?
As he pondered this, pink petals drifted past his eyes, and a sea of flowers appeared.
After a brief moment of confusion, Arthur suddenly remembered something and muttered, "Could it be that guy?"
He gave flowers to the earth, dreams to humanity, and a future to history—that was the nature of the man.
Merlin, the Mage of Flowers.
"Oh my, you figured it out already? Was it because you reacted quickly, or did you already know my name from someone else? Perhaps that woman..."
A cheerful voice echoed in the distance. With every step he took, flowers bloomed along the path. His tone and demeanor radiated elegance.
"Merlin?" Arthur looked at the man before him.
"You recognize me?" Merlin maintained a serene smile the entire time.
"You should be the one who knows whether I recognize you or not," Arthur replied.
In truth, Arthur suspected that Merlin had likely discovered him when he came into contact with Artoria, but simply had not sought him out yet.
"You noticed that too?" Merlin seemed slightly surprised.
"Well, it is you," Arthur said.
"Hmm... it seems you think highly of me?"
"No, not at all," Arthur replied, shaking his head.
Merlin did not mind. He circled Arthur, observing him carefully for a moment before nodding slightly.
"I see... No wonder I haven't seen that woman make a move lately. So it really does have something to do with you?"
The red dragon of Britain and the white dragon.
Artoria, who inherited the red dragon, and Arthur, who inherited the white dragon... Is this what Morgan le Fay is planning?
Since obtaining the complete bloodline of the red dragon is impossible, why not create an entirely new white dragon—someone who could rival Artoria, or perhaps even surpass her?
"Do you intend to stop her?" Arthur asked.
Merlin possesses the ability to see the entire present and, to a certain extent, foresee the future based on existing information, allowing him to perceive everything without physically going anywhere.
Therefore, Arthur was not surprised that Merlin sought him out. He had always thought Merlin would come sooner or later, but he did not expect it to be so soon.
"No, I will not interfere in anything." Merlin turned to look at Artoria, who was still training in the distance. "A predetermined fate cannot be changed, no matter the process—"
He raised his finger, and a thread extended toward the distant sky.
"The final outcome remains the same."
"That sounds truly awful." Arthur frowned. "If everything was already predetermined, why did you help Lily?"
"Because—"
"Because you're a lolicon?" Arthur interrupted.
Merlin's voice stopped abruptly. Soon, his expression returned to normal as he shook his head.
"You do not understand—"
"I know. You're just a lolicon," Arthur said flatly.
"By the way, why are you dressed like that?" Merlin asked, looking at Arthur's attire with a puzzled expression.
Arthur was wearing a black cloak and a wide-brimmed hat. A raven with red eyes perched on his left shoulder, giving him a particularly ominous appearance.
This was the blessing of the goddess of death, which only Arthur possessed in this world. It would not manifest in reality, yet it appeared in this dream—truly surprising.
"What kind of outfit is this?" Arthur looked down at himself, thinking.
"These are the clothes I was wearing when I went to see Morgan." After confirming that his clothes were normal, Arthur muttered, "Why did you suddenly drag me here?"
"I was simply curious about who you truly are and why Morgan would go to such lengths to cultivate you." Merlin smiled faintly, as if dispelling all doubts.
Arthur was surprised. "You already knew?"
"Of course," Merlin said seriously. "I don't know."
Arthur: "..."
"You know what? I really want to punch you in the face right now."
He spent all that time acting mysterious just to say something like that. This guy deserved a beating.
"That's quite frightening. But if you wish to fight, do not be misled by the fact that I am a mage—I am actually quite skilled with a sword." Merlin brandished his blade, and to be honest, it looked rather impressive.
A girl in the distance looked in their direction but did not approach.
It was still training time, and she would not move without Merlin's permission.
"It must have been very hard," Arthur said, glancing toward Artoria.
He had heard that after enduring daily training from Sir Kay and Sir Ector, she could not even sleep peacefully at night. She had to receive further training from Merlin in her dreams and learn how to become a king. It was truly a life like that of a machine.
Probably only Artoria could endure such a life.
Such a determined, sincere, and adorable girl... she is truly captivating.
"Sometimes, when I see this, I feel ashamed for planning to relax," Arthur added.
"Would you like to stay here and train with her?" Merlin asked.
"Is that really possible?" Arthur asked.
"Of course. Although your bloodline is not the finest, it does not matter," Merlin smiled. "After all, you are that child's friend."
"Then..." Arthur extended his hand.
"Why so polite?" Merlin smiled and shook it.
"Let me go back," Arthur said. "I have no interest in training every night in my sleep."
(End of Chapter)