Seeing Morgan's serious expression, Altria widened her eyes in disbelief, unsure of how to respond.
"Your Majesty Morgan, I know that your relationship with King Lott is one of the best in the world, but... you can't say things like this!" Altria thought to herself. He's just gone fishing. How could that possibly be considered serious business?
Altria recalled a phrase she had learned from Lott during one of their conversations: "Calling a deer a horse." Right now, she felt that was the only way to describe what was happening.
Morgan, noticing Altria's sceptical expression, smiled and said, "You don't believe me, do you?"
"Ah... well..." Altria stammered, torn between being honest or respecting her lord. If I say I don't believe, it's like distrusting Morgan. But if I say I believe... that's not true!
Seeing her hesitation, Morgan pressed on, "You don't believe it either, do you? Let's make a bet then. I guarantee that when Lott returns, he'll bring back something that'll convince you otherwise. If I lose, you can make any request of me. But if I win, you'll only get a regular soldier rations for a week."
Altria hesitated but then nodded firmly. "Alright, deal." Although the stakes were high, she felt confident in her judgment.
Morgan chuckled. "It seems our army will have it easy for the next week," she said lightly, though inwardly, she felt a bit nervous. Lott, you better not disappoint me... I don't want to lose to Altria.
Meanwhile, Lott, unaware of Morgan's bet, was busy making his way out of the castle with his fishing gear in tow. There wasn't a good spot for fishing nearby, but that wasn't his true intent anyway. As a seasoned "fisherman," Lott knew better than anyone that actual fishing wasn't his forte.
Once he was far enough from prying eyes, he activated his system and entered the long river of time. The water this time seemed more profound than before—an indication that with their victory, his and Morgan's control over this timeline had increased.
"Alright, let's see what kind of treasures we can pull out today. I'm not picky—antimatter cannons, black hole generators, nuclear weapons—anything will do," Lott muttered as he prepared to cast his line.
After sitting for a while, he suddenly felt a heavy tug on his fishing rod.
"Whoa, this feels like a big one!" Lott exclaimed, excitement building. Heavier doesn't always mean better, but this feels promising.
With a mighty pull, he reeled in his catch, and what emerged were two dazzling swords.
"Holy—!" Lott couldn't help but swear, not out of anger but out of sheer joy. This time, I've caught something incredible.
He instantly recognized the two swords hanging from his rod: the Sword of Promised Victory and the Sword of Revolving Victory - Galatine. These weren't just any swords; they were legendary weapons, meant for none other than Altria and his daughter, Gawain.
The Sword of Promised Victory even came with its legendary sheath, which made the catch all the more precious.
"This is perfect!" Lott said to himself, holding up the two swords. "I'm one step closer to defeating Vortigern now."
Feeling accomplished, he glanced at the sword he already had at his waist, the Vasilis.
"Look at me, wielding three swords," he joked, pretending to pose like a master swordsman. However, after a moment, he stored the swords away. As cool as it looks, I can't realistically use all three at once.
His thoughts then turned to Gawain. Galatine was destined for her, but at her current age, the sword was taller than she was! Giving it to her now would be absurd, like handing a baby a giant weapon.
"Yeah, I'm not about to make a child fight a dragon," Lott mused. Child labour is bad enough, but child soldiers? No thanks.
With that, he decided to keep the sword for now, knowing he could always use his Vasills to fight Vortigern if necessary. There's no rush for Gawain to wield the sword of victory.
Satisfied with his catch, Lott exited the long river of time, ready to head back to the castle with his prize.
Elsewhere, Merlin, who had been enjoying a quiet moment, suddenly froze in shock. The dancer beside him noticed his change in expression and asked, "Master Merlin, is something wrong?"
Forcing a smile, Merlin dismissed her. "No, nothing." But inside, he was reeling.
The Sword of Promised Victory—the sword he had been keeping an eye on for his student Altria—had suddenly vanished. Gone, just like that.
He had planned to give it to her when the time was right, but now it had disappeared from his watchful eye. And not only that—Gawain's Sword, Galatine was missing too.
Even more troubling was that Merlin couldn't locate them. His clairvoyance, which usually allowed him to find anything, anywhere, now failed him completely. It was as if the swords had disappeared from the timeline itself.
"What do I do now?" Merlin muttered to himself, deeply troubled. With no other choice, he turned back toward the castle, unsure of how to explain the situation.