Gawain glanced at Mordred with a strange expression, then quickly exited the room, leaving only Morgan and Mordred behind. Puzzled by Gawain's reaction, Mordred turned to Morgan.
"Why did Gawain look at me like that? I told her I was younger than Agravain, so what's the problem?" Mordred asked, frowning.
Morgan sighed softly, "That's because Agravain was just born."
"Wait... what?" Mordred was stunned. "But Agravain is supposed to be less than two years younger than Gawain! How could he have just been born?"
Morgan smiled mischievously. "Gawain is not even three years old yet."
"Three years old!? You call that three years old!?" Mordred said incredulously.
Morgan's smile grew wider. Seeing her mother's playful expression, Mordred was at a loss for words. After a brief silence, Mordred decided to ask directly, "You know where I come from, don't you?"
"Of course, my daughter. I know everything," Morgan replied with a gentle nod.
Mordred hesitated but then asked, "So, would I be born again in this world?"
Morgan thought for a moment and then replied, "Yes, and no."
"What does that mean?" Mordred asked, confused.
"It means that there will be a Mordred born in this world, but she will not be Altria's heir. Instead, she will be my child—mine and Lott's," Morgan said seriously.
"What!? You and Lott?" Mordred was taken aback.
Morgan rolled her eyes, "Of course! He's my husband. And as my daughter, you will respect him as your father."
Mordred couldn't believe what she was hearing. She remembered the stories of her past life, and the idea of her mother being so affectionate towards someone else was hard to digest. Morgan continued her voice firm but caring, "You need to respect Lott. No matter what happens—whether you choose to help me or oppose me—you will respect him."
Mordred winced as Morgan playfully hit her on the head. She rubbed her head, muttering, "That hurts."
Morgan chuckled. It was strange but in a comforting way—different from how things were before. Still, something in Mordred's mind troubled her. She looked up at Morgan and said, "But I thought... I thought Lott didn't have any special skills."
Morgan's face changed slightly, her tone serious. "You don't know anything, Mordred. Lott is unique. He has abilities that no one else does."
Mordred wasn't convinced. She looked at her mother, still feeling uncertain. "I still don't believe it," she murmured.
Morgan's eyes narrowed. "You can believe what you want, but when the Mordred of this world is born, she will obey Lott without question."
Mordred looked away, feeling frustrated. "But... mother, you know we're on opposite sides, right? You can't just hit me and expect me to follow orders. I've defied elders more than once."
Morgan's gaze turned icy. "Is that so?"
Mordred gulped, sensing danger. "Yes... but..."
She fell silent under Morgan's stern gaze, afraid of what might happen if she continued speaking.
At that moment, Lott stumbled into the room, looking groggy and disheveled. He glanced at Morgan and then at Mordred, his expression puzzled.
"Morgan, who is this knight?" he asked, then his eyes widened as he recognized her. "Wait, Mordred? How did you get here?"
Mordred looked back at Lott, recalling the praise she had just heard from her mother. She scrutinized him: a man in a messy robe, hair disheveled, and smelling of alcohol. This man?
"Who is he really?" she wondered silently, not fully understanding.
Lott, still confused, turned to Morgan. "What's going on here?"
Morgan explained, "She's one of the intruders caught tonight, spying on Altria."
Lott was taken aback. "Her? I didn't expect Mordred to show up like this. What's going on?"
He recalled his drunken conversation with Morgan earlier. "Who else did you catch?"
Morgan replied, "Lancelot, Mash, and Ritsuka Fujimaru."
Lott's eyes widened. "Wait, you captured Chaldea's Master? Why are they here?"
He was genuinely puzzled, wondering why Chaldeans were present in this world. He began to suspect that their world might also be considered a peculiar point in history, requiring correction. He felt a chill run down his spine.
Morgan, accustomed to Lott's sudden insights and thoughts, observed him calmly, silently marveling at his intelligence.
Lott finally addressed Morgan, "My dear, where are they being held? I want to see them."
Morgan nodded. "I have them in custody. Come, I'll take you to them."
…
In the castle's dungeon, Lancelot and the others were held. Though the guards were minimal, Lancelot did not attempt to escape. He felt a sense of honor that required him to confront his captors directly and not sneak away.
Mash and Ritsuka, meanwhile, were strategizing.
"We need to observe things more closely before making a move. Morgan isn't completely unreasonable. If we can understand more, we'll be in a better position," Ritsuka whispered.
Mash nodded, "I agree, Senpai. Let's take our time."
As they passed through the dungeon, Lancelot couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity. He had been imprisoned here before. Without a word, he walked into his old cell and closed the door behind him, almost out of habit.
Ritsuka and Mash watched, bewildered.
"Wow, he's really used to this," Ritsuka remarked.
"Yes, it seems he's been through this a few times," Mash replied with a wry smile.
…
As they continued down the dimly lit corridor, Lott and Morgan approached, followed closely by Mordred. The reunion between the Chaldean group and Lott was going to be an interesting one, especially with so much at stake.
The atmosphere was tense yet filled with anticipation. Everyone was eager to see what would unfold in the confrontation between old friends, former enemies, and unlikely allies, all under the watchful gaze of Morgan and the ever-inquisitive Lott.