A massive red flash so blinding he couldn't keep his eyes open faded away, and Kay's feet landed on solid earth.
The salty scent of the sea brushed his nose. A moist, gentle breeze caressed his cheeks.
This was the air of the world he knew—the living, breathing atmosphere of the present, strikingly different from that of the [Abyssal Realm].
"…We're back."
Kay let out a rough breath and looked around.
He stood at the edge of the world, where violent waves pounded sheer cliffs and an ashen mist enveloped the coastline.
Northwest Britain: the Isle of Skye on the Slith Peninsula.
That's right. This was the same stretch of shore where he'd once gone fishing with Gareth, only to be smacked by Merlin's staff and forcibly flung into an interdimensional rift.
Medusa said, on guard as she scanned the surroundings. Tamamo and Jeanne d'Arc Alter reacted in turn.
"Master, is this your homeland, Britain? There's a fair amount of Mana in the air. I never imagined a place that still retains the atmosphere of the Divine Age to this day. Yet there are no gods here—an environment from the Age of Gods without its gods. All the more dangerous, then."
Tamamo wagged her tail excitedly as she asked, "Oh my, after staring at that dreary sky of the [Abyssal Realm], seeing the blue sea clears my chest right up! Now then, Master! Where shall I take you? Shall we head straight to sever that nightmare fiend's head?"
"No, first we need to assess the situation. It's been five years in the [Abyssal Realm], so I have to see if my sisters are safe. When it comes to gathering information, there's no place like a tavern. There's a village nearby. Let's head there and collect intel."
Kay fastened his golden axe and the Mageblade securely to his back and waist, then set off for the small fishing village of Tokabeig, not far from the shoreline.
The village was much the same as before: a small, shabby fishing hamlet, still full of worn nets and the smell of fish.
Unsurprisingly, none of the villagers recognized Kay.
After all, it was the dazzlingly beautiful Artoria sisters who'd held lavish banquets to welcome the villagers, not some rough-hewn man who quietly packed their gear and went fishing. Fishing trips don't last months or years—certainly not five.
Clink~
Kay pushed open the door of the village's largest and rowdiest tavern and stepped inside.
Though it was midday, rough fishermen and young men clustered in small groups, slamming cheap ales and making a racket.
As three overwhelmingly beautiful women followed Kay inside, every gaze in the tavern snapped toward them, but Kay paid no mind. He made straight for the loudest table of men.
Thud.
Kay withdrew a hefty ancient gold coin from the thick leather pouch Scáthach had given him and set it on the table.
The men seated around the table went wide-eyed. In this small, impoverished fishing village, such a gold coin was a sight few would ever see in their lifetimes.
Since Britain was no longer Roman, a new currency system had been introduced—but after Uther's death and under Vortigern's rule, it had essentially become worthless, and most trade was now barter.
Luxuries like gold and gems, however, still held monetary value.
One man stammered, "H-Hey, buddy... what's this...?"
"This is your tab. Get everyone the finest drink they've got in this joint. And spend any leftovers on your own snacks."
Kay pulled out a chair opposite him and plopped down. Tamamo, Medusa, and Jeanne d'Arc Alter formed a protective line behind him.
"But in return, answer everything I ask to the best of your knowledge: what's the current political situation in Britain? And… news of King Arthur and his knights."
The power of gold was absolute.
The men hurried to fetch premium ales and dried meat, then began eagerly spilling their tongues.
"Well now, buddy, asking about King Arthur's news, you must be from afar! And asking about the year right off the bat too."
"I... was away in another place for about five years."
No matter that the [Abyssal Realm] was another dimension, time passed the same.
It wasn't like the Fairy Realm, where time ran strange—here, it did not.
"So, what's Arthur and his knights up to these days? I heard rumors that the king has several beautiful and formidable younger sisters by his side."
Kay forced himself to mask the tremor in his voice as he asked. He was tormented by thoughts of how heartbroken Artoria must have been in his absence—and whether she'd even bothered to eat properly.
But the man's answer upon his return was enough to freeze Kay's heart.
"Sisters? Oh, yeah, back then. There were rumors of shining fairy knights guarding the King of Knights. But buddy, your intel's way out of date."
The man guzzled his drink, wiped his mouth, and said, "Those sisters? They scattered to the winds several years ago."
"...What? Scattered? What do you mean by that?!"
Kay shot upright like a coiled spring. The table lurched, and a goblet toppled.
Even the Servants lined up behind him held their breath at the ominous turn.
One of the men stammered, "H-Hold on, buddy. I don't know all the details, but rumor has it that when Arthur's forces were marching north, a huge rift opened up. That was about five years ago, I think? From then on, the sisters' relationships froze over. Anyhow, the only one left by the king's side now is his youngest sister, Lily."
"Only Lily... remains?"
Kay murmured in disbelief.
The sisters who had been so close had fallen apart.
"Then what about the others? Where exactly are they and what are they doing?"
"That's all I know. But there are some big rumors! Arthur is currently fighting a bloody war against Vortigern's tyranny. Under his banner fight Sir Gawain, the Knight of the Sun whom they say he recruited from Orkney years ago, and Lady Gareth—Gawain's younger sister and his niece—now grown into a fine knight, leading the charge."
"Wait a second. Gareth's already on the battlefield? She was barely a newborn babbling five years ago—she'd have to be six or seven at most! That bastard Merlin..."
Kay couldn't make sense of it. The man shrugged.
"Must be the royal blood—or rather, the fairy blood mixed in—that she grew fast. Rumor says she's already got the bearing of a proper young knight. They say her skill with weapons is no joke."
Gareth…
Kay bit his lower lip hard. Even if her fairy blood gave her unnaturally rapid growth...
The thought that the little girl he used to carry on his back was now standing in a blood-soaked battlefield unbeknownst to him crushed his heart with guilt.
"And the rumors about the scattered sisters are wild. Of them, the whereabouts of Lancer is the most certain..."
The man lowered his voice conspiratorially and said, "The sister who wields that terrible lance left the king's side and went alone to North Wales. There she single-handedly smashed tyrant King Rience to pieces in a one-on-one duel, then crowned herself the new Queen of North Wales."
"Lancer... became queen? And she did that to King Rience?"
King Rience: the Overlord of North Wales, said to rule countless islands off Ireland and demand tribute from its kingdoms.
He was a king so powerful that even King Pellinore—King of Wales and known as the Fisher King—couldn't match him, earning Rience the reputation of a monster unbowed even by King Uther.
Moreover, he kept a mighty giant named Rito in his service.
Rumor had it he was also a warrior who wielded Heracles' greatsword. And yet he was defeated, and Lancer became Queen of North Wales?
"That's not all. There's another lance-wielding sister clad entirely in black armor—Artoria Lancer Alter—who calls herself the Wild Hunt, forms a roving mercenary host, and ravages all across Britain. As for the remaining sisters, the rumors are so bizarre and varied I don't have a clue."
When the man's words ended, Kay slumped into his chair.
His mind was a tangled mess.
The division among his sisters.
No matter how mad Merlin was to want to turn Artoria into a lonely king, he couldn't have cut the sisters' strong bonds by force.
Could some third party he didn't know have been involved?
No. Kay's painful instinct pointed to a single, clear cause.
…Was it because of me?
It was because of his disappearance.
Though he had no mana or talent and was nothing special, he had been the sole bond that gathered those eight monstrous sisters around a single table.
With that humble, homey paterfamilias gone, their fragile emotional ties had lost all control and run rampant.
Merlin may have wanted to eliminate the burdensome nanny and shape a perfect king, but in doing so, he had utterly destroyed that family.
Medusa quietly placed a concerned hand on Kay's shoulder. "...Master. Are you all right?"
"Uh... I'm fine. I've got a rough idea of the situation."
Kay clenched his fist, rose from his seat, tossed the remaining gold coins to the men, and strode out of the tavern.
Jeanne d'Arc Alter draped her banner over her shoulder and asked, "So, are we heading straight for the battlefield where Artoria is?"
Kay shook his head. "It'd be impossible to go directly to Artoria. I don't even know her exact location."
Facing the cold sea breeze, Kay explained his plan to the Servants.
"First, we're going straight to the one whose whereabouts are most certain. We'll find the Lancer who became Queen of North Wales. She was the most rational and level-headed of the sisters. She'll be able to give us the clearest account of how this split came about."
Tamamo nodded. "North Wales... Understood. Then we'll need to secure a carriage and horses at once. The distance is too great to walk."
Medusa chimed in, "Master, you've got quite a number of queens around you~ Should I become a queen too? Of course, founding a nation by charming people would be a cinch."
"Hmph, queen or whatever. If any of my sisters gives you a hard time, I'll roast them all myself. I can't stand to see you get hurt."
At his Servants' various, yet reassuring responses, Kay offered a faint smile.
He opened the heavy pouch Scáthach had given him when he left the [Abyssal Realm]. Inside gleamed a vast hoard of ancient gold coins and fist-sized gems he'd mined from its depths.
"Scáthach... you sure packed a solid dowry. Thanks."
Kay secured the pouch at his side.
"With this, we'll grab a carriage, horses, and every bit of supplies we can. That Lancer—she may have called herself a queen, but I hope she didn't ditch meals and lose her appetite."
Piercing through Britain's ashen mists, the humble knight who returned after five years took his first step toward finding his scattered family.