[Within the light screen, Artoria Santa Alter’s expression darkened instantly as she saw Jalter targeting her Master.
A cold glint flashed in her crimson eyes as she stepped forward to shield Fujimaru Ritsuka, her tone sharp and mocking, every word filled with a protective intent: “You mad dog, snapping at my Master without letting go.
Clearly, you were the one who sent the letter yourself.”]
[Jalter gave a light scoff and turned her face away, her silver-gray eyes filled with disdain.
Her tone was languid and laced with a hint of mockery: “Hmph—I was quite shocked when I saw the sender’s name.
I never expected that a woman like you, who seems to hate everything righteous, would actually have a wish.”]
In the lounge of New Chaldea, Kiyohime watched the confrontation on the light screen.
A flicker of satisfaction crossed her eyes, and a contented smile played on her lips as she whispered, “Well said.
I’m satisfied.”]
Hearing this, Jalter turned toward Kiyohime, her brow furrowed.
Her silver-gray eyes were full of speechlessness and impatience as she scolded with a hint of disgust: “…That’s enough from you.”]
[Artoria Santa Alter’s gaze fell upon Jalter, her tone carrying a touch of curiosity and playfulness as she slowly spoke: “Setting that aside for now, the handwriting is very easy to identify.
Don’t you not know how to write?”]
[Jalter’s expression darkened instantly as her past was poked.
Her brow was knitted tight, and her tone was full of displeasure.
Her cheeks tightened slightly with a stubborn stiffness: “I’ve learned, is there a problem?
Because that kind of squiggly, worm-like handwriting is too embarrassing.
It’s practically nauseating.”]
[Artoria Santa Alter raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile curling at the corner of her mouth.
Her tone was teasing: “Oh, eliminating everything you can’t stand.
That certainly sounds like your style.”]
[She paused, tilting her head with eyes full of confusion as she followed up casually: “By the way, why do you find it embarrassing?
It shouldn’t matter; it’s not like you’re going to show it to anyone else anyway.”]
[Hearing this, Jalter was momentarily stunned.
Then, a cunning and somewhat proud smile slowly spread across her face.
A mischievous light flashed in her silver-gray eyes, her tone full of ‘you didn’t expect this’ flamboyance: “Hmph, you’re too short-sighted.
I’m a perfectionist.
Think about it, if I were to write with such ugly handwriting when forming a contract—”]
[Halfway through her sentence, she seemed to suddenly realize something.
Her expression changed abruptly, the pride and flamboyance from before instantly vanishing.
A faint, almost imperceptible blush crept onto her cheeks.
Her brow furrowed, and her tone suddenly turned cold, filled with a stiff avoidance: “…Let’s end this topic here.”]
Over at New Chaldea, Mash watched Jalter’s sudden abnormality on the light screen.
Her eyes widened, and a look of realization dawned on her face.
She subconsciously whispered, “So that’s how it is.
Speaking of which, Jeanne dArc Alter gave Senpai a contract when she was first summoned.
So Jeanne dArc Alter had been preparing for her summons by Senpai since then?”
Little Da Vinci, standing beside Mash, nodded with a smile.
Her eyes were full of understanding as she chimed in lightheartedly, “Yes, that’s what you call planning ahead.”
[Jalter in the light screen clearly couldn’t hear their whispers.
She suppressed the strange feeling in her heart and looked up at Artoria Santa Alter, her tone full of impatience as she shifted the subject: “Fine, why are you calling yourself a Saint (Santa Claus)?
Call out the real person.
I want the real one.”]
[Artoria Santa Alter’s gaze sharpened instantly.
A cold glint flashed in her crimson eyes, and her brow arched slightly.
Her tone was full of displeasure and dominance, carrying a hint of interrogation: “Are your eyes hollow, or are they clouded by filth?
I am the one who has delivered many gifts until now.”]
[She lifted her chin, her posture becoming even more flamboyant.
Her tone was filled with certainty and pride: “Even if I am not a Saint, I am already a full-fledged Santa Claus.
Fujimaru Ritsuka’s trust is the best evidence.”]
[Artoria Santa Alter’s tone softened slightly, an almost imperceptible tenderness flashing in her eyes as she said softly: “What began as an act just to pelt you with gifts has now completely become one of my primary duties.”]
[As she spoke, she turned her head to look at Fujimaru Ritsuka beside her, her eyes carrying a sense of expectation and a search for validation.
Her tone was solemn: “Although I didn’t become a Saint, I’m no fake either.
I’m right, aren’t I, my reindeer?”]
[Fujimaru Ritsuka immediately nodded with a smile, her tone full of sincere praise, her eyes brimming with warmth: “Santa Alter is a battle-hardened Santa Claus.”]
[Hearing this, a faint blush instantly colored Artoria Santa Alter’s cheeks.
Her crimson eyes widened slightly, then she turned her face away awkwardly.
Her tone carried a hint of reproach mixed with an almost imperceptible shyness as she muttered under her breath, “You’re supposed to say ‘an amazing Santa Claus,’ you idiot.
No, I suppose that’s not wrong either.”]
In the Observation Area of Chaldea, Mordred stared at the rare bashful appearance of the Black Father-King on the light screen.
Her eyes were wide as saucers, and her face was full of disbelief.
She couldn’t help but click her tongue in shock: “Wait, why is the Black Father-King blushing?
Is she actually acting shy?”
Beside her, Tristan held his harp and gazed at the scene on the light screen with narrowed eyes.
A gentle and knowing smile played on his lips as he spoke slowly, his tone teasing: “Sir Mordred, you’re still a child.
It’s normal not to understand the affairs of adults.”
“What did you say!?” Mordred instantly flared up, snapping her head toward Tristan.
Her brow was furrowed, her tone full of anger and defiance, and the aura around her became agitated.