As Lott held the newborn Agravain in his arms, he couldn't help but feel relieved. If Agravain had been a girl, the complexity of handling such a transformation would have been overwhelming. After ensuring that Morgan was comfortable and resting, Lott turned his attention back to the baby.
"Let me see the little guy," Lott said, taking Agravain from the nurse's arms.
Gawain, eager to see her new sibling, reached out to hold him. Lott, however, blocked her gently, knowing her overwhelming strength and lack of experience could accidentally harm the fragile newborn.
"We need to take good care of him," Lott thought to himself. Agravain would be an essential part of Britain's future, someone to help carry the weight of governing and the responsibilities that came with it.
As Lott held the small, wrinkled bundle, he thought, "Well, he certainly looks better now than the brooding, tormented adult he might become!"
Morgan, overhearing his thoughts, smiled. She knew that if Agravain grew up with such burdens despite their best efforts, it would be their failure, not his. She was determined to give him a better start.
"Let me hold him," Morgan said, extending her arms.
Lott carefully handed the baby to her, and Morgan looked at him with a mix of love and humor. "Even the second time around, newborns really are quite…unattractive, aren't they?" she said with a slight grimace.
"Come on, don't be harsh. If he were born beautiful, we'd have a little Nezha on our hands!" Lott joked.
At that moment, Altria entered the room, her face filled with concern. "Sister Morgan, are you alright?"
Morgan waved her hand dismissively, "I'm fine, little aunt."
Gawain, trying to lighten the mood, teased, "Mom's fine. Look at her—she's as tough as ever."
Gawain's clumsy attempt to approach Altria made her stumble slightly, and Altria's expression became awkward. For some reason, she felt embarrassed, as if Gawain's blunder reflected poorly on her.
But despite her embarrassment, Altria couldn't help but smile as she looked around the room. It was filled with family—an elder sister, a brother-in-law, a niece, and now a nephew. She realized how much her life had changed and how full it now seemed.
"Becoming king…," Altria thought to herself. "It would just lead to more battles and conquests. Even if I achieved as much as my sister, I wouldn't be able to build a stable nation like she has. It's better that she's in charge."
For now, she decided, she would only take up the holy spear in times of dire need. True leadership comes from the ability to govern wisely, not just wielding powerful weapons.
Meanwhile, in the dense forests of northern Scotland, a lone figure moved swiftly among the trees. It was Lancelot, the wandering knight who had previously guided Melusine to find Morgan.
He had observed the battle between Camelot and the fairies but refrained from joining, preferring to venture north. Scotland, with its fierce warriors and wild terrain, suited his need to test his limits and sharpen his skills.
Lancelot had been traveling through these lands, facing off against mythical beasts and building his reputation as a formidable fighter. His name was known to many, and kings sought his aid, though he turned them all down. His sole focus was redemption and discovering the truth about Galahad.
"There can't be any more beasts left to challenge in this forest. Except…that one," he thought, his mind drifting to the legendary figure ruling the Land of Shadows—Scáthach.
He had heard tales of her prowess and knew she had trained both Lott and Galahad. The thought of testing his skills against her filled him with equal parts excitement and dread.
"I wonder how I'd fare against her?" he mused.
As Lancelot continued his journey, a sudden gust of wind alerted him to something unusual. It wasn't coming from the direction of the trees but from above.
"From the sky?" he wondered, looking up.
To his astonishment, he saw two girls falling from the sky on what looked like a large shield.
"Watch out below!" one of them shouted.
Lancelot's face twisted in confusion as he stepped aside to avoid the strange sight. Moments later, they landed with a crash, creating a cloud of dust.
When the dust settled, Lancelot saw a young girl with orange hair and a cheerful face carrying another girl with pink hair. The second girl looked wary, holding a shield as if ready to defend herself.
"Hello! May I ask who you are, sir?" the orange-haired girl asked.
Lancelot studied the two girls before him. Their attire was unlike anything he had seen before. The orange-haired girl's dress was not Celtic, Saxon, or Roman, and the pink-haired girl's armor was both revealing and bizarre. Despite this, it was the look of determination and wariness in the pink-haired girl's eyes that caught his attention.
"Mr. Lancelot!" the orange-haired girl called out, her face lighting up with recognition.
"Do I know you?" Lancelot asked, perplexed.
The girl's smile faltered. "What? You don't remember?"
The pink-haired girl stepped forward, shielding her companion. "Be careful, Senpai. This Lancelot is not the hero we know. He's a human, not a Servant."
"Is that so?" the orange-haired girl replied, still confused.
"He has no memory of meeting us," the pink-haired girl explained.
"What are you talking about?" Lancelot asked, more confused than ever.
"This is something you'll understand in the future, Mr. Lancelot," the orange-haired girl said. "My name is Fujimaru Ritsuka. I'm a Master from Chaldea."
She gestured to her companion. "And this is Mashu Kyrielight, also from Chaldea."
"Chaldea? What is that?" Lancelot asked.
"Chaldea is an organization dedicated to preserving the continuity of human history…" Fujimaru began explaining, but Lancelot was barely listening.
Instead, he focused on one word: "future."
He wasn't sure what these girls were saying or how they knew him, but something told him this encounter would change everything.
The scene now bristled with unspoken tension as Lancelot tried to process what the girls were telling him. The word "future" lingered in his mind, raising more questions than answers. Who were these strange visitors, and what connection did they have to him?