61. The Unacceptable King Selection Scam

Fate 61.

　　"..."

　　"..."

　　It was midday, and the British sun was shining over Camelot.

　　The porcelain white ground in the city was a little hot due to the light, but no one cared about this.

　　Because--

　　Everyone's eyes were focused on the young man in front of them.

　　At the soles of his feet was a broken rock, its broken lines silently swearing that it was once unbreakable.

　　In his hand he held a sword blade high.

　　The British sun fell on the sword, giving it an afterglow of glory.

　　Silence, then din.

　　"Did you see it? He pulled out that sword!"

　　"How is that possible?! He obviously doesn't look very strong! He doesn't look like someone who can pull it out, does he?"

　　"Something's wrong! There's something wrong! There's something inside!"

　　There was a roar of people.

　　The people watching expressed their doubts in various ways.

　　But there are exceptions.

　　Take Gawain for example.

　　He stared and looked at the young man in front of him who had drawn the sword. The blue eyes inherited from Morgan were full of incredible emotions.

　　Certainly.

　　That so-called feeling is not the same suspicion as the people around you, but a sigh of fantasy turned into reality.

　　Gawain is the one who has tried the Sword of the King's Choice the most times.

　　He knew how difficult it was to pull out the blade—and now someone had done it.

　　Is this true?

　　Or just dream?

　　Gawain covered his head, unable to distinguish the boundaries for a moment.

　　He had no choice but to vent his unreal feeling to Ian who was standing aside.

　　"Father, what should we do?"

　　"..."

　　Ian's face was livid.

　　Because Gawain and everyone else present are completely different.

　　What he was thinking about was something else entirely that made sense.

　　The descendant of the royal family who could not be proved in any case may be the Artolis in front of him.

　　Because he was worried that Morgan would be detrimental to Artoris during the period of his growth, King Uther asked Merlin to use magic to hide her name, and then sent her out of the royal capital;

　　Because she is essentially female, her perception of herself must be changed from an early age and educated in the manner of a knight.

　　Since she has almost never appeared in the royal capital, a realistic enough return must be arranged.

　　This is a scam.

　　A total scam.

　　The so-called king selection is just a facade!

　　"Father, he is here."

　　Gawain's words allowed Ian to temporarily recover from the feeling of being cheated.

　　[You look forward. ]

　　[You see Artolis walking towards you. ]

　　[She still holds in her hand the sword blade that she had just pulled out of the rock. ]

　　[Everyone's eyes follow her movement. ]

　　[You realize that something unexpected might happen next. ]

　　Artolis' figure was reflected in Ian's eyes.

　　She just walked over step by step, straight and firm

　　Ian clearly felt that something about her had been changed, but at the same time, something else was still retained.

　　Was it done by magic?

　　Or something else?

　　Before Ian could think about this problem clearly, there was a touch on his waist.

　　He saw Artolis burying her head on Ian's chest.

　　Her two hands went around his body left and right, and closed behind his back with the sword she had just pulled out.

　　That's right.

　　This is a hug from Artolis.

This was the first thing she chose to do after pulling out the sword.

　　"Mr. Ian, thank you for coming."

　　"I...seem to have really succeeded."

　　[The people around did not hear this sentence. ]

　　[You realize that this is a secret message from Artoris that only you can hear. ]

　　[But this is a huge irony for you who just figured everything out. ]

　　[Your hand slowly moves to the sword blade at your waist. ]

　　"Father."

　　Ian's rage was interrupted by another call from Gawain.

　　"You seem-"

　　Gawain looked at the young man Artolis who was holding his father.

　　"How do you know him?"

　　Before Ian could answer the question, Artolis spoke preemptively.

　　But it was completely different from the gentle look in Ian's arms. When facing Gawain, her tone was obviously much colder.

　　If you want to describe it in terms of a certain situation——

　　That is the wind rushing forward, and it will not stay for a moment longer just because it touches the branches in the forest.

　　In their hearts, there is only the sea they want to belong to.

　　This metaphor may be too complex.

　　So--

　　It would probably be better to understand simply that Artolis only retains his girlish feelings for Ian.

　　Because there is no feeling for other people, even the way he speaks becomes a bit inhumane.

　　"Yes, he is my important person." She said.

　　[Gawain was shocked. ]

　　[He did not expect that the young man in front of him, who was obviously far inferior to him in terms of physique, could possess such an aura. ]

　　[He seemed to have touched something vaguely. ]

　　[But he knew this was not the time for him to speak. ]

　　[He looks at you. ]

　　"..."

　　Ian calmly withdrew his hand from the hilt of the sword.

　　He found himself impulsive.

　　In this case, there was no way to take action against Artolis.

　　This is not because he is afraid that he will pay a heavy price after doing it, but because he does not want Morgan to be implicated because of him.

　　The method of revealing her female body also won't work.

　　The magic performed by Merlin was obviously still taking effect - not even Gawain noticed anything strange.

　　Then the only path left to choose is patience.

　　Ian suppressed all the anger in his heart and looked at Artolis in front of him with a false smile.

　　He got out of her arms, then smiled and said:

　　"This has nothing to do with me. It is your own efforts that have created all this."

　　"Artolis, congratulations."

　　"You are the first knight to draw the blade."

　　As the titular King of Lot, Ian's admission has a clear accelerating effect.

　　The originally whispering atmosphere was ignited into something else in an instant.

　　Artolis became the focus of everyone's attention - the people in the streets of Camelot were looking at the young man who drew his sword.

　　Little did they realize that Britain's fortunes were already in turmoil.

　　He didn't even notice Ian's clenched fists.

　　[You quietly left this highly anticipated scene. ]

　　[You run towards the royal court. ]

　　[You have arrived at Morgan's private workshop, which is where she studies magic. ]

　　[Only you know how to get in here. ]

　　"My Lady Princess."

　　"Um?"

　　Morgan turned around, and when he saw Ian's figure, his frowning brows relaxed a little.

　　"Foolish knight, you'd better keep your proud spear in check."

　　"If something unexpected happens one day -"

　　Morgan's fingers lightly traced across Ian's chest.

　　"That's a loss for all of us."

　　"My Lady, I am very grateful for your concern."

　　"but--"

　　"but?"

　　Morgan, who noticed something was wrong in his tone, looked up at Ian.

　　"Ian, you should know that I don't like procrastinators."

　　Ian's expression was a little solemn.

　　He tried to find words that would make what he was about to report less harsh, but found it impossible.

　　There is no choice but to confess.

　　"My Lady Princess."

　　"Artolis...pulled out the sword blade embedded in the rock."

　　"..."

　　Morgan was stunned for a moment.

　　The usually elegant blue pupils lost their original color at this moment, replaced by bottomless doubt.

　　"Ian, what did you say?! I order you to repeat it!"

　　Now that he was talking about it, Ian knew that he could never suddenly turn off the engine at this moment.

　　"My Lady Princess."

　　"Artolis...pulled out the sword blade embedded in the rock."

　　"I witnessed it all."

　　Time seemed to stand still around Morgan.

　　There was no trace of bright red on her fair skin, as if the blood in her body had been drained out in an instant.

　　A wordless silence enveloped the entire room, killing all possible sources of communication.

　　After a long time, Morgan finally spoke in a trembling voice:

　　"Why her?"

　　"Why can she pull out that sword?"

　　"This is unreasonable!"

　　"My Lady." Ian looked at Morgan, who was shaking with anger, and felt uncomfortable in his heart.

　　"Artolis may be the heir we failed to find back then."

　　"..."

　　Morgan froze again.

　　Her eyes were already empty, and even her blue eyes had fallen into darkness.

　　"Ian, you should have killed her on the wall then!" she roared.

　　"Yes, Your Majesty, you are right."

　　Ian lowered his head and half-knelt in front of Morgan.

　　"This is my fault."

　　"Please punish me."

　　[You decide to bring all the problems to yourself, hoping that this will allow Morgan to vent his frustration. ]

　　[But she is not so easily led by you. ]

　　[She quickly noticed something was wrong. ]

　　"No, Ian."

　　Morgan's hands were shaking.

　　"Merlin will never let you do this!"

　　"You can't kill her."

　　After all, paper cannot keep fire.

　　"..."

Faced with Morgan's question, Ian could only remain silent.

　　But this is enough to answer everything.

　　"How could this happen...how could this happen? How could this happen?!"

　　Morgan covered his forehead and repeated the same sentence.

　　The persistence deep in her soul made her feel dizzy.

　　She fell.

　　[Morgan falls ill again. ]

　　[As her nominal husband, you will guard her every step of the way. ]

　　[You can hear her crying in the middle of the night every day. ]

　　[You feel like your internal organs are about to shatter. ]

　　[But you know you can only accompany her silently now. ]

　　[Because you are her most loyal knight. ]

　　[The knight will not complain against the princess. ]

　　"Good night, my lady."

　　Ian covered Morgan with the quilt and then lay half down next to him.

　　This is the state he has maintained these days - whenever Morgan needs it, he can respond immediately.

　　But in all fairness.

　　Ian felt that he was also tired a lot.

　　My soul has been wandering closely with Morgan's long-cherished wish, like a journey with no end in sight.

　　There is no turning back.

　　But he has no regrets.

　　Ian's eyelids closed little by little, as he was about to fall into sleep.

　　And at this moment——

　　"Ian." Morgan's voice came from the darkness.

　　"Yes, Your Majesty."

　　"I want to hear you say you love me." Morgan asked truthfully after receiving a response.

　　"I love you, my lady." Ian replied without thinking.

　　"Why didn't you hesitate at all?"

　　"Because I am thinking about how to express my love to you all the time, my lady."

　　"Ian, that makes your love sound cheap."

　　"Your Majesty, you are right, more things are always cheaper."

　　"Can you stop answering so well?"

　　"That's because you asked nicely, Princess Princess."

　　"..."

　　Morgan sat up and leaned against Ian's shoulders and arms.

　　The silky silver hair fell on the strong arm of the man beside him.

　　She held his hand and spoke softly.

　　"Ian, are you tired these days?"

　　"Am I boring you a little?"

　　"My Lady, I do feel a little tired."

　　Ian held Morgan's hand, trying to keep it as warm as possible.

　　"But I never get bored - your body is always a maze that I haven't quite explored yet."

　　"You really dare to say it, aren't you afraid that I will be angry?"

　　"Afraid."

　　"But I can wait until the princess is no longer angry."

　　"What if I stay angry?"

　　"Then I'll keep waiting."

　　Hearing this, Morgan pinched Ian's hand - a little tantrum she would throw when she said she couldn't win against him.

　　However, this small gesture did not last long.

　　Morgan spoke again.

　　"Ian, what if I said..."

　　Before Morgan finished speaking, Ian had already finished the second half of the sentence.

　　"Are you trying to say that you still don't want to give up?"

　　"As long as you understand." Morgan turned his head.

　　"Of course I understand."

　　"Because I don't want to give up either."

　　Ian's eyes showed unprecedented determination.

　　"I will never recognize a king other than you."

　　"What's more, there are still fraudsters who rely on this kind of scam to rise to the top."

　　"I will spread rumors in the city, cause trouble, cause trouble, and do anything to stop her."

　　Morgan looked up at the man beside him.

　　"Ian, that sounds mean."

　　"Yes, it is indeed despicable." Ian nodded, "So I will do it."

　　"My Lady, you don't need to touch anything mean."

　　"..."

　　Crystal liquid flowed from the corner of Morgan's eyes, and then disappeared into the darkness.

　　She slowly opened the quilt, spread her legs slightly, and then sat on him.

　　She hugged his neck and whispered:

　　"Ian, be a rest horse tonight."

　　"me--"

　　"Suddenly I want to ride a horse myself."

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