During this period, Morgan had been discussing Galahad's life story with Lott. She expressed deep sympathy for his birth circumstances and immense pride in his growth. However, when she learned that he ultimately lifted the Holy Grail and returned it to the heavens because he had no earthly desires, thus ascending to heaven himself, Morgan was completely unwilling to accept this outcome.
The Holy Grail? She had no use for it.
"So, Galahad, you must become a true son of Camelot," Morgan thought determinedly. "You must fight for us until the end of your days! Your name shall echo across all of Europe."
As a knight of impeccable virtue, Morgan couldn't bear the thought of Galahad tarnishing his reputation in any way. Her concern was for him, her husband, Lott, and their family. As for Lancelot, she was much more indifferent. Although Lancelot wasn't solely responsible for Galahad's circumstances, his conduct with Guinevere could not be excused. Morgan had no patience for his actions.
Guinevere, being straightforward and not interested in romantic entanglements, never pursued anything with Altria. That didn't mean she should be tangled up with Lancelot, either. Now, she had renounced love entirely and dedicated herself solely to her duties. Morgan thought that was admirable—why waste time on a hopeless relationship?
As for Mordred, Morgan didn't want her to have regrets. In this world, Morgan didn't have to deal with the complications of Mordred's existence as the son of Altria. But in other worlds, where Mordred was born of Altria's legacy, Morgan felt a responsibility to help her reconcile her fate.
"I understand," Morgan said after some contemplation. Da Vinci, standing nearby, complimented her.
"Your Majesty Morgan, even though we cannot always agree, I still admire your kindness," Da Vinci said sincerely. Despite the flattery, her words came from the heart. She knew Morgan's choices in other timelines, where kindness wasn't always an option.
Lott, standing beside Morgan, intervened. "I should handle this personally. If they meet, things could turn into a fight."
"Of course, I'll leave it to you," Morgan said softly, holding Lott's hand. "After all, it's for our future."
Lott smiled back, placing his other hand gently over hers. They gazed at each other affectionately, the depth of their bond evident.
This tender exchange made Ritsuka Fujimaru and Da Vinci, who were watching, look away, feeling a bit awkward.
"Such a lovely couple…" Da Vinci whispered to Ritsuka.
"Yes…" Ritsuka nodded in agreement.
Da Vinci, eyes sparkling with mischief, continued, "Maybe I should take this opportunity to find someone and fall in love myself."
Ritsuka's eyes widened in shock. "Miss Da Vinci, your current body may be female, but…"
You weren't originally female! she wanted to exclaim.
"Does that make a difference?" Da Vinci asked, raising an eyebrow.
"..." Ritsuka was speechless. She remembered that Leonardo's sexuality had always been a mystery. Whether male or female, the specifics never seemed to matter to him.
It wasn't a big issue… was it?
For a moment, Ritsuka felt an overwhelming urge to join Lott and Morgan, abandoning everything else. Maybe it would be better to side with them instead of facing the inevitable destruction of her own world.
Lott arrived at the tournament grounds, where the matches were in full swing. Scáthach stood on a high vantage point, observing the battles. Lott approached her.
"Sister, have you seen any promising talents among the Scots?" he asked.
"There are a few with potential, but none compare to the Knights of the Round Table on your side," Scáthach replied, her gaze fixed on the ongoing fights. "It seems I've neglected Scotland for too long. The warriors here are too lax in their training. After this tournament, regardless of your political moves, I intend to personally train the top few contestants."
"That sounds fair. I'll make sure to evaluate our knights as well," Lott said. Although the tournament was still in its preliminary stages, Scáthach had already gauged the participants' strength.
The winners would most likely be Lott's men. He hadn't sent many knights, knowing they would easily overpower the competition.
By the time Lott and Scáthach arrived, Altria, Galahad, and the others had already finished their matches. In this competition, only one person from each group of ten could advance, testing not just their combat prowess but also their intelligence and organizational skills. For Lott's knights, however, brute strength alone sufficed.
"Galahad, how did it go?" Lott asked, smiling warmly. "No trouble, right?"
"None at all," Galahad replied earnestly.
"Good job, my boy," Lott said, ruffling Galahad's hair, causing the young knight to blush slightly. No matter how strong he was, Galahad was still a modest and shy young man at heart.
Altria approached, her expression serious. "Your Majesty Lott, I've expended a lot of energy in the last battle. I need to replenish my strength. Only with proper sustenance can a knight maintain peak combat effectiveness."
Lott chuckled. "You're right." Then, taking advantage of her distraction, he lightly tapped her on the head. "But I just couldn't resist giving you a little knock."
He glanced at Altria's ahoge, her signature hair strand, playfully contemplating plucking it. But he refrained, knowing two things: first, he couldn't withstand a wrathful, darkened Saber's full power, and second, he had to think of Morgan's reaction—especially if she turned dark and vengeful. The latter was far more daunting.
"I understand," Altria said, nodding, though she seemed a bit disheartened.
Seeing her reaction, Lott found her demeanor amusing. This carefree version of Altria was endearing. There was no need for her to bear the weight of the world alone, and Morgan didn't have to become a tragic, dark figure.
"If you're hungry, go find your sister. I'm sure she's prepared something for you," Lott said, gesturing towards Morgan.
Although Altria didn't realize it was a ploy, she immediately rushed off.
"Is it really okay to say that?" Mash asked, having finished her match. "It feels like King Arthur is being deceived by her brother-in-law."
"What? I didn't say anything wrong," Lott replied with an innocent look.
"You're good at playing innocent, Your Majesty Lott," Mash sighed.
Lott took it as a compliment. He didn't need to ask Mash about her match; he knew she would handle herself well. After all, a few Scottish knights were no match for her.
"Don't praise me too much," Lott said with a playful smile, earning a silent stare from Mash.
As the other battles concluded, Gawain returned, holding Galatine, the Sword of Revolving Victory. Her victory had been overwhelming. Despite it being daytime and not the peak of her power, she was still blessed with triple her normal strength.
"Dad, a few of them tried to gang up on me, but I threw them all out," Gawain said, grinning.
"Well done, Gawain!" Lott praised, ruffling her hair.
The other knights approached, drawing the attention of the crowd. People watched closely, knowing these were Camelot's finest. Their combat prowess had left a strong impression.
Seeing them in action was different from hearing stories. Altria, Gawain, and the others had demonstrated their overwhelming strength, and the spectators couldn't take their eyes off Kay, who had also fought brilliantly.
The tournament had only just begun, but Camelot's might was already unmistakably clear to everyone watching.