Inside Sir Ector's study.
Watching the moment Artorius exploded with hidden potential to slay Henry in his final moments, Merly's violet eyes danced with delight. She raised her small hands and clapped them together in a cheerful rhythm.
"As expected of my little Arthur. Simply marvelous~"
"Well then, since you've been such a good boy, I suppose your big sister can offer you a tiny, tiny bit of help."
After all, he was such a wonderful little toy; she wasn't quite ready to let him die so soon. He had to stay alive and play with her for a while longer, didn't he?
With a breathtaking smile on her lips, Merly gave a casual flick of her wrist. Instantly, a layer of illusion that had been shrouding the distant battlefield dissolved into nothingness. Within her vision—which spanned the entire town—she saw a black-clad figure who had just sliced a Saxon soldier in two. The figure seemed to sense something, turning toward the direction of the main square before immediately bolting toward it.
"Lord Henry is dead?"
"He killed Lord Henry!"
"Charge together! He's spent! Kill him and avenge Lord Henry!"
Artorius gasped for air, forcing his trembling, depleted body to stand once more. He looked at the surging Saxon soldiers and raised his shaking arm, trying to ready his blade. Suddenly, a massive crashing sound echoed out. Artorius instinctively turned his head.
A tall, dark shadow burst through a burning building. To be more precise, she had used the corpse of a Saxon soldier as a battering ram, smashing her way out of the crumbling, fire-weakened structure.
She tossed the smoldering corpse aside, and her eyes met Artorius's.
Artorius couldn't see her face. Beneath the hood, there was only a blur of unnatural, shifting shadow that obscured her features.
"Face-concealing magecraft?"
This was a world where magic existed. Though those who called themselves magi insisted on labeling it "Magecraft," to Artorius, it was all the same. In recent years, due to war and the fading of Mystery, more and more magi had fled from the mainland to Britain. This brought a influx of "utility" magecraft to an island previously dominated only by witches, priestesses, and fairies.
This included things like "painless abortion magecraft," "healing magecraft," and "identity-concealing magecraft." The figure in black clearly wasn't a magus, but she likely possessed a magical item purchased from one to hide her face.
Unlike Artorius, who remained on high alert, the black-clad figure stared deeply at Artorius's face for a moment, as if confirming something. Then, without a word, she brandished a greatsword and charged the remaining Saxons.
Not a single soldier could withstand a single blow from her. After one Saxon was sliced clean in half by her heavy blade, the morale of the leaderless soldiers shattered completely. They scattered like startled birds.
Artorius watched as the black-clad figure turned her gaze back toward him.
"Are you all right?"
Though she had deepened her voice into a raspy growl, it was clearly the voice of a woman. In truth, it was obvious from her silhouette alone; despite her heavy cloak, her "pectoral muscles" were so exaggerated that they pushed the fabric of her chest out into a prominent, undeniable curve.
So, she came to save me?
"...I'll be fine. Thank you."
The black-clad woman looked him over once more. After confirming he wasn't in mortal danger, she turned to leave.
"Won't you come with me?" Artorius called out. "My foster father is Count Ector. He'll be here soon. Come meet him; he'll reward you properly for saving me."
"No need."
"Then... what is your name?"
"If fate allows, we shall meet again."
With those cryptic words, the woman vanished into the shadows. Artorius stood dazed for a moment before shaking it off and limping over to Artoria.
"Brother, who was she?"
"I don't know. A kind-hearted passerby, I guess."
He checked Artoria's leg and sighed with relief when he confirmed it was just a clean fracture from the pressure. He carefully pulled her onto his back.
"Brother, put me down. I can walk on my own," Artoria said softly. Her heart ached seeing Artorius struggle just to stand while carrying her.
"Your leg is broken. How are you going to walk?"
"But..."
"Be quiet and listen."
A light, drizzling rain began to fall from the sky. Artorius stepped forward, one heavy foot at a time, heading toward the outskirts of town. Artoria finally gave up her protests. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder and hugging him tighter.
"Brother."
"Yeah?"
"I don't ever want to be apart from you."
"What kind of nonsense is that? As long as you don't grow up and start find your big brother annoying, no one is ever taking you away from me."
"I would never."
Artoria buried her face in his shoulder. Images of the dead she had seen tonight flashed through her mind. She had seen many corpses, especially during their travels across Britain last year. But today was different. This town was where she had grown up. She knew many of the people here personally.
'Artoria, I'll tell you a secret, but don't tell your brother~'
'Actually, you and your brother are the children of King Uther and Queen Igraine.'
'That's right. You and your brother are the candidates to pull the "Sword of Selection." You are the future King.'
Artoria remembered Merly's words from five years ago vividly. Her brother didn't want to be King. But... someone had to be.
You've taken care of me for half my life, she thought. It's my turn to take care of you.
She didn't speak again. She only gripped her beloved brother tighter. This would likely be the last time, wouldn't it? In the future, she would probably never have the chance to let her brother carry her like this, let alone sneak into his arms while he was sleeping.
"Brother."
"Hmm?"
"I lov—"
Thunder rolled, and the rain began to pour. In the distance, the rhythmic drumming of horse hooves shook the earth.
Artorius let out a long breath, his strength returning slightly now that he could finally relax. He tilted his head back toward her. "Artoria, what did you just say?"
Artoria looked at his exhausted yet tender, smiling face. She shook her head and buried it back into the crook of his neck.
"I'm hungry."
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