Tiamat, I'm going to find a girlfriend!

But it seems it's already a bit late.

Ian grabbed Artoria's hand and started striding forward.

"Make way——"

He said this to the knight in front of him.

Of course, such a request is unacceptable.

But when the knight, whom Ian had asked to step aside, turned around, he saw a pair of blood-red eyes.

There were no more words, only chilling stares.

That feeling was like saying:

"Choose one: death or step aside."

The answer, of course, is self-evident.

"Please, please leave."

The knight made way for him.

Ian, without any hesitation, pulled Artoria forward.

Incidentally, the extremely embarrassed latter left behind an apology:

"Well, my son Ian is a bit immature!"

"I'm really sorry!"

The dragon's awe-inspiring power was on full display at this moment.

Artoria, who was originally on the absolute periphery, arrived at the front in just a few minutes.

The King's Sword, forged from gold and weathered by rain, now shines brilliantly in the sunlight.

Dreams and reality are now intertwined.

Muster up courage—

No more hesitation——

Artoria reached out her hand toward the Sword of the Chosen King.

She could feel that there was some kind of inseparable connection between herself and it.

The sword's edge is moving.

however……

Nourishes—

Nourishes—

The moment the girl touched the sword, a flash of dark light disappeared.

wrong!

Something is pulling this sword!

=====

It's midnight again today!

15. Morgan: You won't draw your sword! (2/3)

This is a rather contradictory feeling.

That dazzling golden sword was indeed responding to itself.

Artoria was certain that it was a sword she could absolutely pull out, as if it had been inserted specifically for her.

but--

Accompanying this extremely pure response was an equally blatant contempt.

"A fraudster."

"You alone have absolutely no chance of drawing this sword."

"It doesn't belong to a hypocrite like you."

"Give up—"

"Take your hypocrisy and leave Camelot!"

Artoria had no idea whose obsession this was.

But she could sense that the other person harbored extreme hatred towards her.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that he wanted to kill himself.

seem--

It's a bit tricky.

At the same moment, in the plaza where the Sword of Kings was located.

Morgan, hidden in the crowd, revealed a barely perceptible smile.

"You can't do it, Artoria."

"you……"

"He simply doesn't possess the power to match the king, so how could he possibly draw that sword?"

"You and Merlin may fool others, but you can never fool me!"

That's right.

If things had gone according to plan, now would indeed be the moment for Artoria to draw her sword.

but--

That rain changed everything.

Although I don't know where this pure crystal of magic comes from, since it can help me stop all of this, there's no need to worry about cause and effect anymore.

The sword destined to be drawn by Artoria;

A ceremonial sword named Caliburn, the Golden Sword of Victory.

Now, those black crystals are afflicted with an even more powerful curse—

"anyway."

"Even Artoria could never pull out this sword."

A vicious curse requires only the simplest words.

The only one who could draw the sword was also the only one who could not draw it.

Hehehe...

Morgan sneered.

She was prepared to watch Artoria embarrass herself in front of everyone.

Do you think you can get the throne of Britain by lying?

Go dream!

Coming down in such a sorry state is the result you deserve!

but--

Morgan's gaze shifted to another place.

Unlike those knights who alone sought to draw the invincible golden sword (Caliburn).

Standing next to Artoria was another boy.

But what's really strange is—

He seemed to have absolutely no intention of drawing his sword.

even……

They didn't even seem to have the thought of glancing at the sword again.

On the contrary, his attention was entirely focused on Artoria.

especially……

The location of her chest.

But it wasn't a lustful look in his eyes; he was just looking at me purely, and I couldn't figure out what he was doing at all.

And if we really want to talk about it...

He looks somewhat familiar.

The more Morgan thought about it, the more uneasy he felt. Dressed in all black, he lowered the hood of his cloak and walked further ahead.

Back to Ian and Artoria.

The girl's forehead was covered in cold sweat.

That malevolent curse, which only she could hear, still lingered around Artoria like a demonic chant.

"Give up—"

"You simply can't do it."

"You're just a country girl, so it's only natural that you'd fail."

"It's not too late to keep going now; at worst, you'll just be laughed at."

"But if we remain stubbornly ignorant, we will only become a laughingstock."

Artoria's hands trembled slightly.

She also began to doubt whether she was capable of doing such a thing.

Leaving like everyone else probably isn't such a bad choice.

"what happened to you?"

"Eh?"

Ian's voice brought Artoria back to reality.

The boy's gaze remained as direct as ever.

"You look very strange right now."

"I……"

Artoria wanted to say that she couldn't bring herself to draw the sword.

But when I met the other person's gaze, I felt that it wouldn't work.

He came to this "unpleasant-tasting" city for his own sake.

Giving up halfway now, isn't that telling him that everything he did before was meaningless?

"I am fine."

"I can do it!"

It was as if she was talking to Ian, but also as if she was talking to herself.

Artoria was slightly out of breath, focusing all her attention on drawing her sword.

Sincere intentions and vicious curses clashed fiercely at this moment.

But it was a storm that only Artoria herself could hear—

To others, she was merely struggling in vain, unwilling to accept the reality that she couldn't draw her sword.

The knights, who had already been pushed aside by Ian, quickly began to complain.

"Hey!"

"If you can't draw your sword, then get down! What kind of nonsense is this, wasting everyone's time!"