"Having a little peace and quiet is definitely better."
Arthur stepped out of the ballroom, and all the sounds echoing within seemed to vanish behind him instantly. The music, conversations, and laughter became nothing more than distant noise, muffled by the palace walls.
He took a deep breath.
Then slowly exhaled.
The cool night air filled his lungs, carrying with it the scent of damp grass and the sea breeze.
Instantly, he felt his body relax.
"The atmosphere here is very pleasant."
Scáthach calmly observed the surroundings, her crimson eyes sweeping across the vast green lawns surrounding the castle.
Perhaps because of the castle's proximity to the sea, the night breeze carried a refreshing chill. When she raised her gaze, she could see an endless star-filled sky stretching above them.
Arthur remained silent.
Simply standing there beside her.
He was the King of Britain.
But he was also Scáthach's disciple.
And at that moment, he didn't want to think about politics, enemies, conspiracies, or responsibilities.
He simply wanted to enjoy, in silence, the simple happiness of this reunion.
"The moonlight is beautiful as well."
Scáthach turned her head to look at him.
Her eyes lingered on him for a few moments before she asked:
"Have you grown taller?"
"I grew taller?"
Arthur immediately perked up.
For quite some time, he had genuinely worried about that.
Ever since he had pulled the sword from the stone, a persistent fear had lingered in the back of his mind that his height might have been permanently fixed.
But now it seemed the sword hadn't restricted his growth after all.
"Ah, I was mistaken."
Scáthach then glanced at the golden crown resting on his head.
"It's probably just creating an optical illusion."
Arthur: "..."
Master.
Even if you were just trying to comfort me, I would have accepted it.
But you're far too straightforward.
Does Lily have a Version 2.0 somewhere?
"By the way, what exactly is the range of this magic trick?" Arthur asked. "Why didn't you return to your original appearance after leaving the ballroom, Master?"
He looked at the woman beside him.
Her current appearance was still not her true one.
Even before leaving the ballroom, her appearance had already changed, taking on the form of a young woman who looked completely different from Scáthach.
"The area of effect isn't actually that large."
Scáthach shook her head.
"This is probably the work of that Mage of Flowers."
"Merlin?"
Arthur seemed thoughtful.
"So he was the one who restored your original appearance and allowed you to dance with me earlier?"
Who would have thought Merlin was still capable of doing good deeds?
As he was thinking that, Arthur suddenly sensed a presence approaching from behind.
He turned around.
And saw Artoria walking toward them.
"Lily?"
Arthur blinked.
"Why did you come out?"
Logically speaking, anyone who saw that scene would hesitate before interrupting it.
But Artoria seemed completely immune to the peaceful and warm atmosphere surrounding the moment.
She simply walked over to Arthur's side without the slightest hesitation.
"When I saw you leave, I decided to follow and ensure your safety."
She paused briefly.
Then glanced at Scáthach.
Artoria had already noticed her presence during the dance.
In fact, it would have been difficult not to notice a woman like Scáthach.
Even among hundreds of people, her presence was impossible to ignore.
"I believe I've mentioned her before."
Arthur pointed at Scáthach.
"My master."
"I know that without you needing to tell me."
Artoria replied calmly.
"You've mentioned it more than once."
Since the very first days on that small island, Arthur had constantly talked about Scáthach.
The runes he used.
The techniques he mastered.
The absurd training sessions he survived.
All of it came from her.
"My disciple mentioned me while talking with you?"
A trace of interest appeared in Scáthach's eyes.
"What exactly did he say?"
"Judging by his words, he admires you very much."
Artoria answered immediately.
"He even described you as a demonic mentor during training."
Scáthach smiled.
She seemed pleased by that assessment.
"However..."
Artoria continued.
"He also said that when you're not training him, his master is actually a very kind person."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Almost like an older sister."
Arthur felt a bad premonition.
A very bad one.
"He said you help him relieve his worries."
Artoria continued.
"And that you often talk with him at night."
Arthur began feeling cold sweat running down his back.
But Artoria wasn't finished.
She seemed genuinely confused.
"Although my older sister told me to observe the people around me and try to understand their thoughts, I still can't understand this."
Scáthach raised an eyebrow.
Perhaps out of curiosity.
Or perhaps out of pure teacher instinct.
"What exactly can't you understand?"
"Logically speaking..."
Artoria began.
"Arthur should like you very much."
Arthur froze.
"Because his eyes always become very gentle whenever he talks about these things."
Scáthach remained silent.
Artoria continued.
"But when I asked him if he liked his Master, he denied it."
She looked genuinely puzzled.
"That's very strange."
Then she concluded:
"Logically, someone who admires their master should also like them—"
"Stop talking!"
Arthur immediately interrupted.
His forehead was already covered in cold sweat.
Only God knew what Morgan had been teaching Artoria.
Before, she had merely been innocent.
Now she was becoming curious, analytical, and dangerously observant.
And worst of all...
She was repeating every single word he had said.
This was practically a public execution.
"Why can't I say it?"
Artoria asked, confused.
"Because..."
Arthur opened his mouth.
But couldn't find a convincing explanation.
So he resorted to his ultimate technique.
"This is a king's order!"
Finally.
Artoria fell silent.
Arthur released a sigh of relief.
But when he looked back toward Scáthach, he immediately realized he had celebrated too early.
She was looking at him.
And that gaze definitely contained amusement.
Arthur pretended not to notice.
He cleared his throat lightly.
"Lily, I'll be fine here. You can return to the ballroom. It's quite windy outside."
Artoria's expression stiffened for a brief moment.
Then she shook her head.
"I'd rather stay here and protect you."
She paused.
"I also don't want to return to the main hall."
"You'll be fine."
Arthur tried to persuade her.
"It's a rare ball. You should enjoy yourself."
But Artoria kept shaking her head.
"There's no need."
Then she added:
"And that place seems a little troublesome."
"Troublesome?"
Arthur repeated.
Scáthach watched the conversation with growing interest.
"Well..."
Artoria sighed.
"Those girls are truly troublesome."
A rare trace of exasperation colored her voice.
At the beginning of the ball, her appearance had changed just like everyone else's.
But afterward, for some reason, she reverted to her original appearance.
Soon after that, countless noble ladies began inviting her to dance.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Ten times.
At first, it wasn't a problem.
But after a certain point, it became unbearable.
Artoria would rather face an entire enemy army than deal with those persistent noblewomen.
So when she saw Arthur leaving the ballroom, she seized the opportunity to escape.
Arthur was left speechless.
But he understood perfectly.
He himself had felt countless eyes directed toward him during the ball.
If Scáthach hadn't been dancing with him, he likely would have been flooded with invitations as well.
No wonder she ran away so quickly.
The noise was probably driving her insane.
"Ah, that's right."
Artoria suddenly seemed to remember something.
Then she picked up the weapon she had brought with her.
"You said you were going to change weapons today."
She extended the red spear toward Arthur.
Arthur stared at the weapon.
The spear gleamed faintly beneath the moonlight.
Then...
His body froze.
Very slowly, he turned his head to look at Scáthach.
Scáthach remained silent.
Her smile remained calm.
But for some reason, Arthur felt an overwhelming pressure descending onto his shoulders.
Completely oblivious to the dangerous atmosphere, Artoria continued:
"I thought about it carefully."
"I don't need you to give me Caliburn after all. There are too many people in the ballroom. If they see me using the King's weapon, it could cause problems."
She lightly raised the spear.
"Even without a powerful weapon, I can still fight properly. My strength will only be somewhat limited."
"Are you listening?"
Seeing that Arthur wasn't responding, Artoria waved her hand in front of his eyes.
Assuming he had become distracted.
"I understand."
After a long silence, those were the only words Arthur managed to say.
"A Red Spear, huh..."
Scáthach observed Artoria for a few moments.
Then smiled.
And casually glanced at Arthur.
"It seems the two of you share a very close relationship."
Her voice remained gentle.
"It's rather rare for my disciple to lend someone a weapon I personally gave him."
Although she was speaking to Artoria...
Her eyes remained fixed on Arthur.
"Lily didn't have a suitable weapon..."
Arthur answered immediately.
"And since I had acquired that sword as a replacement..."
He swallowed.
"So I lent her the Red Spear temporarily."
The explanation made sense.
It was perfectly reasonable.
But even so, Arthur felt somewhat guilty.
Scáthach had taught him countless times that a weapon was a warrior's life.
Losing one's weapon was equivalent to handing one's life to the enemy.
And this wasn't just any weapon.
It was a gift personally given by his master.
Lending it to someone else—even if that someone was Artoria—still felt somewhat inappropriate.
Artoria observed Arthur for several seconds.
Then commented:
"You seem very nervous."
It's incredible that you managed to notice that.
Arthur shot an exasperated glance at the true culprit of the situation.
Just as he was trying to figure out a way to explain everything to his master...
Suddenly.
A faint killing intent swept through the night.
Arthur's senses reacted instantly.
His eyes gleamed.
But instead of concern, a smile appeared on his face.
"You arrived at the perfect time."
(End of Chapter)