Meanwhile, in the study of Sir Ector's castle.
"Lady Merly, that is essentially the situation."
Sir Ector stood to the side, his hair graying at the temples. His expression was one of profound respect as he kept his head lowered, not daring to steal more than a passing glance at the exquisite young woman seated before him. She appeared to be only slightly older than his own daughter, with snow-white hair and striking violet eyes.
She was called Merly.
However, to the world at large, she was better known as "Merlin."
She held many titles: Chief Court Magus to King Uther, the Greatest Magus of Britain, the Magus of Flowers. In this era, she was the undisputed pinnacle of the craft.
The reason she maintained such a youthful appearance was simple: she was not entirely human. She was a hybrid—half-human and half-Nightmare. While she possessed the outward form of a woman, her true nature was closer to that of a succubus.
Because of this, Ector didn't dare look at her for long, fearing that a stray thought might lead to some form of accidental disrespect. Even so, just hearing the silver, bell-like quality of her laughter, the gentle softness of her voice, and the faint, lingering scent of flowers in the air required his full concentration to keep his mind clear.
Reluctantly, he recounted the events of the morning's breakfast to Merly in full detail. "Artorius... that boy has absolutely no desire to be King."
"My, my. While Artorius is indeed the better fit for the throne, we must respect the child's wishes, mustn't we? That is why I brought you two children instead of one, after all."
Liar! Merly had actually been stunned when Igraine conceived twins. She had brought both children to Ector purely out of curiosity, wanting to see what paths they would take when the time came to contend for the Sword of Selection.
While Artorius was somewhat disrespectful toward her, refused to listen to her nonsense, and showed zero interest in becoming King, wasn't the presence of unobservable variables and surprises exactly what made this world fun?
Clairvoyance.
This did not refer to the physical, long-distance vision possessed by archers, but to a higher-order "EX-Rank" ability. It was a pair of eyes capable of peering into the future or the past—a key criterion for determining if a magus qualified for the title of "Grand."
Merly possessed Clairvoyance of that caliber.
While her specific brand of Clairvoyance didn't strictly predict the future or delve into the past, it allowed her to perceive the entire world at once. Everything happening in the present moment could not escape her sight. By leveraging this massive influx of information, she possessed a functional equivalent to "prophecy."
As the protagonists of this era, the siblings Artorius and Artoria had always been her primary subjects of observation.
She had known about Artorius's comments at the breakfast table long ago. In fact, she had spent a good while clutching her stomach in laughter at Ector's bewildered expression. Her current act of ignorance was merely to force Ector to relive the memory so she could enjoy his pained expression once more.
"But if Artoria becomes King..."
"Peace, peace. Who knows who will pull that sword until the final moment? Isn't that sense of mystery one of life's greatest joys?"
I hardly call that a joy, Ector thought bitterly. But in the face of this Great Magus—who was old enough to be his grandmother's grandmother and whom even the late King held in the highest regard—he didn't dare argue. He only bowed his head lower.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed outside the door.
"My Lord, disaster has struck!"
The door burst open without a knock. A squire in light armor appeared at the entrance, his face pale with panic.
"Lorenzo Town has been attacked by Saxons! Sir Pancy has fallen in battle, and Young Master Artorius has entered the town alone to find Lady Artoria!"
"What?!"
Lorenzo was precisely where Artoria had been stationed, and exactly where Ector had sent Artorius to find her.
Ector's face twisted in shock. He roared immediately, "Assemble all the knights! Send every available man to save them!"
"Sir Terrence has already taken the night patrol and the squires to—"
"It's not enough! In my name, wake every knight and soldier in the castle and get them to Lorenzo at once! If anything happens to Lis or Artoria, I'll send every last one of you to the front lines!"
"Yes, Sir!"
The squire hurried away.
Ector moved to follow, but as he reached the door, a sudden thought struck him. He turned back to look at Merly, who remained seated with a faint smile.
He hadn't originally intended to send Artorius after Artoria. It was Merly who had suggested it, claiming it would "prevent Artorius from overhearing their conversation" and "ensure Artoria returns early so she isn't exhausted when the princess arrives tomorrow."
At the time, Ector had thought nothing of it. But given the sudden Saxon raid, and Merly's current calm, almost knowing expression...
"Lady Merly, did you...?"
"I know," she said simply. "I've known since the moment they snuck across the border."
"Then why? Why would you do this?"
"It is part of their tempering. Besides, don't you think Lis and Artoria lack a bit of fame? The Selection Ceremony is about to begin. This is the perfect opportunity to make their names known."
Merly stood up with a smile and turned toward the window, looking in the direction of Lorenzo. Her violet eyes seemed to pierce through time and space to see the burning town. She narrowed her eyes and spread her arms wide.
"A heroic knight single-handedly decimates a Saxon army, rescuing an entire town from their clutches... What a classic, kingly tale that will make!"
"But..." Ector's lips trembled.
If they succeeded, it would be wonderful. But the problem was that Artorius and Artoria were only fifteen! Sir Pancy had been killed, meaning the enemy force was significant and led by a formidable warrior. Most importantly, Artorius had left without his armor—he only had his sword!
If Artorius were armored, Ector wouldn't be this terrified. He knew Artorius's strength; Pancy was no match for the boy. Wiping out a Saxon detachment and bringing Artoria back was well within Artorius's capabilities.
But he was unarmored!
In a real fight, even a legendary veteran knight without armor would likely lose to a novice in full plate. No matter how strong you are, you can't stop several blades from hitting you at once. It was a losing game: your strikes might not pierce their steel, but a single scratch on you could be fatal!
"If he were wearing armor, people might suspect it was a staged performance, wouldn't they?"
Merly seemed to read Ector's anxiety. She chuckled. "This is for the best. After all, what's a few sword wounds between siblings?"
"..."
Looking at Merly's exquisite profile, a sudden chill took root in Ector's heart. Never had he been more afraid of this smiling woman than in this moment.
She had watched Artorius and Artoria grow up!
Ector was frantic because they were the late King's children, the hope of the nation—but more than that, he had raised them. For ten years, they had been his children in every way that mattered. How could he remain calm while they were in mortal peril?
But this woman...
How could she smile? How could she say "what's a few sword wounds" with such casual delight?
In this moment, Ector finally understood why his King, on his deathbed, had told him to both trust and be wary of this woman.
This woman, so beautiful she could take one's breath away, was a true monster.
"Don't worry. They won't die."
Merly saw the fear in Ector's eyes—the look one reserved for a monster—but she didn't care.
Because she was a monster.
Humans didn't understand her. She understood humans well enough—their emotions and reactions—but she had no interest in empathizing with those complex feelings. As long as things remained interesting, it was enough.
Ector saw her as a monster; Uther had seen her as a monster; Kay saw her as a monster. Everyone who truly knew her reached the same conclusion.
But what did it matter?
Would that fear drive them away? No. Not at all. They would fear her while simultaneously begging for her help, pleading with the monster they loathed to stay by their sides.
And it wouldn't just be them. In the future, whether it was Artorius or Artoria, the future King Arthur would also come to know her, fear her, and see her for what she was. And yet, they would still have to humor her and rely on her aid.
Humans were such ridiculous, fascinating creatures.
"...I shall take my leave." Ector departed.
Merly was left alone in the study. She turned back to the window. Her violet eyes reflected the distant glow of the town's fires and the silhouette of the boy with the sword.
"Just kidding," Merly whispered, laughing again.
She didn't have true precognition. She couldn't be certain if Artorius and Artoria would live or die. Perhaps they would both survive. Perhaps history would "correct" itself, demanding the death of the brother or the sister.
"Perhaps they both die?"
"But then again, what does it have to do with me? I've built the stage for the performance. If you die, it only means you weren't good enough. Though... a dead King Arthur before the sword is even drawn... now that might be even more interesting."
If King Arthur died, the White Dragon Vortigern and the Saxons would go unchecked. And far away in Rome, the "Sword Emperor" Lucius—supported by desperate mages and the last followers of the Pantheon—was currently locked in a brutal civil war with the Church-backed heir. Without a King in Britain, Lucius would have no rival.
How would history change then?
Would Mystery be revived? Would the priestesses and believers, currently hunted to near-extinction by the Church's executors, reignite the fires of the Pantheon? Would the gods walk the earth once more? Would the age of the Divine return?
"So, let me see..."
She watched the boy standing before his sister, facing the Saxon leader in a duel. A playful, expectant smile curled on Merly's lips.
"Will you die, I wonder?"
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