The bathroom was filled with mist, and the air was thick with the scent of high-grade rose essential oil—which, of course, Morgan had “manifested” using magecraft.
Arthur held a soft towel in his hand, gently wiping the wet, long hair of the Queen sitting in the bathtub.
The scene before him was enough to make any man’s blood boil, but Arthur maintained an extremely gentlemanly composure—or rather, he was striving to uphold his dignity as the “head of the household.” Morgan leaned against the edge of the tub, her long, beautiful legs casually resting on the water’s surface, her fair skin glowing with a faint pink hue in the warm water.
She narrowed her eyes slightly, enjoying Arthur’s service, a playful smile playing on her lips.
“Your technique is quite skilled.
It seems I can leave such matters to you from now on, Husband.” Morgan lazily raised her hand, her fingertips tracing over Arthur’s firm abdominal muscles.
“Even though you only possess the concept of Arthur, this body is quite well-trained…
at least, it’s much better than that blockhead who only talks about ideals.” Arthur caught her restless hand and gave a helpless smile.
“Your Majesty, the focus now is on preparing for battle.
Tonight is the first night of the Holy Grail War.” “Preparing for battle?” Morgan gave a light snort and suddenly stood up from the water, creating a loud splashing sound.
Without any hesitation in showing off her perfect figure, she stepped out of the tub and took the bathrobe from Arthur’s hand to put it on.
“A war on the level of country bumpkins fighting doesn’t require preparation.
If you want that cup, I’ll just bring it to you to use as a wine glass.” Dominant, arrogant.
That was Morgan le Fay…
When the two walked out of the bathroom and into the master bedroom on the second floor.
A surge of magical energy filled with provocative intent soared into the sky.
That was Lancer’s challenge.
He was announcing his presence to all the participants.
“How noisy.
I was thinking of having Arthur make me a midnight snack…” Black magical radiance surged over Morgan’s body, and her casual home clothes instantly transformed into her majestic and magnificent Queen’s Spiritron Dress.
“Fine, since someone is in such a hurry to die, I’ll grant their wish.” She walked to Arthur’s side, took his arm, and a cruel yet charming smile appeared on her face.
“Let’s go, Husband.” “Let this boring war welcome the descent of its Queen.” “It’s just as well, I also want to see if the Heroic Spirits of this era can withstand my ‘Hammer’.” …Fuyuki City, Seaside Warehouse District.
This was a deserted industrial area at night, and also the most suitable stage to serve as a “duel ground” in the Holy Grail War.
At this moment, an undisguised, sharp fighting spirit was raging here, sending a provocative signal to all the magi in Fuyuki City.
Lancer, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne.
This peerless first warrior of the Irish Fianna Knights was brandishing his twin spears, waiting for a hero brave enough to accept the challenge.
“Saber, since you’re here, why hide?” Diarmuid looked toward the shadows, where Irisviel and her guardian, Saber (Artoria), slowly stepped out.
Wearing silver-blue armor and holding an invisible sword, Artoria had a solemn expression.
“I have come as promised, Lancer.” The integrity and fighting spirit of a knight burned in her emerald eyes.
However, just as the two took their stances, preparing for a fair and honorable knightly duel— “Quite a lively scene.” A magnetic male voice abruptly came from the top of a shipping container.
The voice wasn’t loud, yet it clearly pierced through the sea breeze, echoing in everyone’s ears.
“Who?!” Artoria and Diarmuid looked up simultaneously, warily staring at the high ground.
Kiritsugu Emiya and Kayneth, who were observing from the shadows, also tensed up.
Under the moonlight, two figures stood looking down.
The man on the left had blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a modern casual trench coat, yet his upright posture exuded a kingly aura that made one want to bow in worship.
The woman on the right wore a black Gothic dress, her face cold and stunningly beautiful.
She held a staff radiating an ominous aura, looking down with a mocking gaze.
Most importantly— The blonde man didn’t have a sword in his hand, but his palm was surrounded by a layer of high-pressure air currents that distorted the light, making it impossible to see the true form of what he held.
That was…
[Invisible Air].
The moment she saw this, Artoria’s pupils shook violently, and the hand that usually held her sword with absolute stability actually trembled slightly.
“That wind…
and that appearance…” “Impossible…” Arthur looked at the shocked Artoria below, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.
Here it was, the part he looked forward to most.
He leaped down, landing steadily on the ground with Morgan, standing right between Saber and Lancer, forcefully interrupting the duel.
“Sorry to interrupt your fun.” Arthur brushed the dust off his coat, his gaze sweeping over Diarmuid before finally settling on Artoria’s face, which was filled with disbelief.
“First time meeting you, this world’s…
‘King Arthur’.” Arthur’s voice was gentle, yet it exploded in Artoria’s mind like a clap of thunder.
“You…
just who are you?” Artoria stared intently at Arthur’s face.
That face, aside from having sharper lines and more masculine charm, was practically identical to hers!
No, it wasn’t just the appearance.
Even the nature of that magical energy, and that invisible yet incredibly familiar aura of the holy sword, shared the same source as her!
“Me?” Arthur chuckled, and the Invisible Air in his hand suddenly erupted, the gale blowing back his short blonde hair.
He didn’t need words; this storm that only a “King” could command was the best proof.
“I am Arthur.
Of course, you may also call me—Arthur Pendragon.” Boom—!
As soon as these words were spoken, the entire area fell into a dead silence.
Kiritsugu Emiya, hiding in the shadows, was so shocked he almost dropped his gun: “King Arthur?
You’ve got to be kidding!
Isn’t Saber King Arthur?
Why are there two?!” And Artoria was even more struck, as if by lightning.
A male…
version of herself?
A parallel world?
Or some kind of magical disguise?
Before she could recover from her confusion, Morgan, standing beside Arthur, moved.
Though Morgan was a Berserker, she still possessed her reason.
Her cold eyes stared intently at Artoria, her gaze filled with contempt, disgust, and the mockery one would have when seeing a “failure.” “Does this surprise you so much that you can’t even hold your sword steady?
My foolish…
sister.” Morgan spoke slowly, her voice carrying a bone-chilling coldness.
“Sis…
ter?” Artoria snapped her gaze to Morgan, and then, a chill originating from the depths of her soul welled up in her heart.
This face…
this voice…
although the temperament had become darker and more majestic, she would absolutely not mistake it.
“Morgan le Fay?!!” Artoria cried out the name in shock, the Invisible Air on Excalibur in her hand instantly dispelling, as golden radiance illuminated the night sky.
“Why are you here?!
Are you a Servant?!” “What inelegant shouting.” Morgan sneered, her body naturally pressing close to Arthur, even intimately taking his arm right in front of Artoria.
She slightly raised her chin, asserting a kind of “sovereignty” over Artoria.
“Look closely, Artoria.” “The one standing beside me is the truly perfect King Arthur, and my, Morgan’s, only…
Prince Consort.” “As for you?
Hmph, merely a little girl from Pan-human History who didn’t understand the hearts of men and ultimately led her country to ruin.” A critical hit.
True damage.
Arthur clearly saw Artoria’s ahoge wilt, as if she had taken ten thousand points of mental damage.
Her sister was not only not dead but had become a Heroic Spirit?
And she was holding a “male version of herself” and calling him husband?
And she was mocking her about her country’s downfall to her face?
The information overload was enough to make this upright King of Knights’ CPU burn out.
[Ding!
Detected that the key character ‘Artoria (Saber)’ is experiencing severe mental instability.] [Obtained Dimensional Points: 2000!] [Current Total Points: 3500.] Arthur was in a great mood.
This was how it should be.
Fighting and killing is so boring; this kind of ethical drama…
no, this kind of “clash of kings” is the essence of a crossover.
“Alright, Morgan, don’t bully her until she cries.” Arthur gently patted the back of Morgan’s hand, then turned to look at Lancer, who had been completely ignored and was standing there with a face full of awkwardness.
“Lancer, Diarmuid.” Arthur reached out his right hand, making a grasping motion.
The Invisible Air in his palm dissipated, and a holy sword with an ancient design, radiating the light of the stars, appeared in his hand.
“Those two brushes of yours…
oh, no, those two demonic spears, I’m quite interested in them.” “Since she is King Arthur and I am also King Arthur.” “Then, how about I take over this duel?” Arthur’s aura suddenly erupted—the terrifying magical energy of the “Red Dragon” that came from merging 25% of the Old Saber template.
A golden torrent of magical energy soared into the sky, instantly suppressing everyone present!
“Let me see if the legendary first of the Fianna Knights can block my sword.” Diarmuid’s eyes instantly became fervent.
As a pure warrior, he could feel Arthur’s strength.
That wasn’t a Magician’s bluff; it was tempered martial arts and a kingly aura!
“I couldn’t ask for more!!” Diarmuid laughed, spinning his twin spears.
“It is my honor to face another ‘King Arthur’!” The battle was on the verge of breaking out.
Meanwhile, Artoria stood there like an outsider, blankly watching the “male version of herself” standing in front of her, her heart filled with a complex mix of emotions.
“He…
just who is he…”