Simulator in Type-moon, Starting with becoming Morgan husband!

Chapter 75. Two Swords Entwined by Fate in the Lake

On the way to the lake in the dream.

Ian should have been holding the reins and walking alongside Artoria, but now he was seated atop the Dun Stallion.

The young girl, her face flushed red, leaned into his chest, looking both happy and shy.

"Sir Ian... it's because of my stubbornness again that you've had to go through so much trouble."

"It's nothing."

Ian held the reins with one hand and clasped Artoria's hand with the other.

"No matter the circumstances, I should accompany you there."

"Really? That's wonderful."

Feeling the warmth from the man's hand, the girl's heart couldn't help but flutter.

"In that case..."

"Sir Ian, do you feel..."

"Do I feel?"

"What I mean is..." Artoria hesitated, slightly embarrassed.

"Sir Ian, don't you think we look like we're on a honeymoon right now?"

"..."

Ian didn't answer Artoria's question but instead smiled faintly, his expression unreadable.

But as always, that smile was taken by the girl as an ambiguous response.

"Traveling with Sir Ian like this... how wonderful it is."

Artoria closed her eyes, savoring this rare, beautiful moment.

Her mind was already filled with dreamy, romantic images.

[You know exactly what Artoria is thinking.]

[But you can't bring yourself to shatter her illusions—even though they are unlikely to ever come true.]

[You try to make the journey as smooth as possible, hoping not to disrupt her beautiful dream.]

[You just didn't expect that, following Artoria's guidance, you would arrive at a place that seemed strangely familiar.]

The Dun Stallion came to a stop at the edge of a cliff.

Ian looked down at the verdant scenery beneath the precipice, feeling deeply puzzled.

This place seemed to be somewhere Ian had been before—though this time, he had taken a different path to get there.

If compared to Camelot, this might only be the difference between entering through the East Gate versus the West Gate.

"Sir Ian, is something wrong?"

Noticing the strangeness in him, Artoria slowly opened her eyes.

She tilted her head back slightly to look at the man behind her.

"Is something the matter?"

"No." Ian shook his head. "It's nothing."

"It's just that the wind feels a little noisier today."

"Sorry, Artoria, for disturbing your dream."

"It's nothing."

Artoria leaned closer to Ian, feeling the warmth of his body.

"With Sir Ian by my side, I can always have wonderful dreams."

(t/n: Hmm, I'm not sure what I want, to be stepped on and sucked dry by Morgan or to die sweetly by Artoria)

[The two of you chose the smoothest path down the mountain.]

[Both safely reached the forest at the base of the cliff.]

[That familiar feeling made you increasingly certain you had been here before.]

[You realize that something ahead might change the course of your life forever.]

"Sir Ian."

Artoria looked down the forest path, her emerald-green eyes reflecting a trace of contemplation.

"It doesn't seem suitable for the horse to go any further."

"Got it. I understand."

The sound of hooves came to a halt.

Ian and Artoria dismounted one after the other.

After tethering the Dun Stallion in a lush green meadow, the two ventured deeper into the forest together.

There was no denying it.

This was truly a breathtaking forest, like an unpolished gem.

As far as the eye could see, an endless expanse of green stretched out, with tree shadows cascading endlessly.

"Sir Ian, this place is absolutely marvelous."

Artoria took a deep breath and turned back to look at the man walking behind her, her radiant smile lighting up her face.

"It's just like the forest blessed by fairies in legends!"

"..."

A forest blessed by fairies?

[Artoria's words stirred something within you.]

[You could now be certain you had been here before.]

[Only, back then, the person accompanying you was—]

That's right.

It was Morgan.

After being ordered by King Uther to return from the front lines, Morgan had expressed to Ian her desire to avoid going back to the capital.

It had been a request impossible to refuse.

Eventually, the two had ended up in a forest.

That was the first time Morgan had opened her heart to Ian, and it was also the first time they had shared true spiritual happiness together.

If memory served—

Ian's gaze fixed on the path ahead.

At the end of the trail, there would be a lake as clear as a precious gem.

However, before he could decide whether to verify this memory, Artoria suddenly grabbed his hand.

"Sir Ian, the road ahead is still long."

"Let's hurry up a bit!"

"Um... alright."

[Your intuition was correct.]

[At the end of the narrow forest trail, awaiting you and Artoria was indeed a crystal-clear lake.]

[The lake shone like a radiant jewel, set at the heart of the forest. Breezes rustled through the trees, rippling across the water's surface and creating gentle waves.]

[You realized this was the same lake you and Morgan had once visited.]

"Sir Ian."

Artoria gazed at the pristine lake before her, her emerald eyes brimming with emotion.

"This is the place I saw in my dream."

"So it is."

Ian stepped beside her.

Looking into the crystal-clear water, old memories surged through his mind.

It was the first time Ian had seen Morgan cry in front of him.

All her resentment and loneliness had poured out in that moment.

What he had seen was no longer a princess.

But an abandoned soul, imprisoned in darkness—a girl forsaken by fate.

"Nobody has ever given me a chance..."

The harder she struggled, the further she drifted from the shores she longed to reach.

Those cries of anguish were etched deeply into Ian's soul.

He couldn't bear it. He couldn't bear any of it.

"It's okay, I will always be here."

Unconsciously, Ian spoke those words. It was only then he realized that the person beside him wasn't Morgan—it was Artoria.

Hearing his words, Artoria's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly broke into a radiant smile.

"Sir Ian, if that's truly the case, then that's wonderful."

"..."

Ian found himself unable to respond to Artoria.

If judged from the very beginning—

He was nothing more than a base and despicable knight, driven by an unrelenting desire for the princess's body.

Swearing loyalty, drinking the poisonous chalice—all of it was spurred by fleeting lust.

But after everything that had happened, Ian understood that his feelings for Morgan had long since transcended mere physical pleasure.

He had witnessed the scars fate had carved into her, understood the deep resentment she bore within.

If so—

Then let him be her eternal knight in this world.

This princess of Britannia, how could she be allowed to be forgotten, to lose the pride that was rightfully hers?

Although Ian said nothing in return, Artoria was still overjoyed.

She reached out and embraced the man she loved.

"Sir Ian."

"Although it may seem greedy of me, I must ask—"

"Could I claim you as mine for just this moment?"

"..."

Once again, her honesty struck a chord deep within Ian.

Yet he said nothing. Instead, he leaned down and kissed Artoria.

The maiden's lips were as soft as ever, like the finest candy in all of Britannia.

With the slightest nibble, he could taste sweetness akin to molten sugar.

The girl let out a faint gasp of surprise, but she didn't pull away. In the end, she became a willing captive to his touch.

[You despicably toyed with Artoria's feelings, leaving her—once a regal king—flustered before you.]

[Seeing her shy demeanor, you silently cursed yourself as a scoundrel.]

[But at the same time, you understood that you couldn't let this sway you.]

[There was something you had to accomplish.]

The lake shimmered with ripples, its surface glowing with a mysterious light.

The air above was filled with an otherworldly radiance.

A voice, ethereal and resonant, echoed across the forest.

"King, you have arrived."

The voice was pure and rang through the trees like a bell.

Artoria froze instantly.

She turned toward the lake, her expression shifting.

In that moment, her eyes glowed with the majesty befitting a king.

"It is time."

"As per the dream, I have come to claim the sword," she declared.

"Please, present the sword to the King."

The voice from the lake was gentle yet resonant.

Amidst the gently rippling waters, light erupted from the lake, shooting skyward as though it sought to shake the stars from their places.

As the light coalesced and took form, a sword appeared above the surface of the lake.

It was a sword forged of gold, its hilt encrusted with exquisite yet practical gemstones.

The blade, sharp and gleaming, was encased in a scabbard adorned with intricate carvings.

"This is the sword we bestow upon the King," the voice proclaimed.

"Its name is Excalibur: Sword of Promised Victory."

"With this sword in hand, the King shall remain invincible before their enemies, returning with countless victories to Camelot."

"And its sheath, Avalon, will protect the King during these battles, shielding them from peril."

"Truly a mighty weapon."

"Spirit of the lake, I offer my deepest respect to you."

Artoria spoke these words with utmost reverence, extending her hand toward the Sword of Promised Victory.

She grasped it—

The moment she touched it, the light from the blade began to flow slowly into her body.

["Blessing of Red Dragon+" Activated: You can feel a surge of powerful mana now imbued within Artoria.]

[You realize the Spirit of the Lake possesses an extraordinary power.]

The voice from the lake resounded once more.

"King, while we do not object to you wielding the Sword of Promised Victory, it remains a part of the lake. Thus, we hope that when all is said and done, you will return it to the lake."

"Indeed."

Artoria, holding the Sword of Promised Victory, responded decisively.

This was an extraordinarily simple ritual of covenant exchange.

Everything seemed to have concluded.

Until Artoria unexpectedly spoke again.

"Spirit of the lake, if my dreams are not mistaken, there seems to be another sword here, one that has yet to be claimed?"

"King, you are correct."

The voice from the lake promptly answered Artoria's query.

"Indeed, there remains another sword, one that, when the time came to claim it, was left behind—a sister sword to Excalibur."

"Its name is Excalibur Galatine: Sword of Revolving Victory."

"In that case—"

Determination glimmered in Artoria's emerald eyes.

"May I take it with me as well?"

"..."

The voice from the lake fell silent for a moment.

"King, even for you, possessing both swords of the lake would be inappropriate."

"Then, what if it were not me, but another capable individual who were to claim it?"

"That may be possible."

The voice from the lake replied with a tone neither arrogant nor servile.

"However, the decision is not ours to make—it rests with the Sword of Revolving Victory itself," the voice from the lake declared.

Artoria remained silent, her gaze shifting toward Ian.

Her intentions were clear without need for words—she wished for Ian to be the one to claim the Sword of Revolving Victory.

Ian did not hesitate.

Like Artoria, he stepped toward the lake.

Once again, light erupted from the water.

This time, however, the light was different. Unlike the cold, piercing radiance that had previously shot through the sky, this glow burned with a fiery crimson intensity.

The contrast was unmistakable, like the distinction between the sun and the moon.

[You know that the Excalibur Galatine: Sword of Revolving Victory before you holds power comparable to Excalibur: Sword of Promised Victory.]

[Theoretically, such weapons cannot be obtained easily.]

[Yet, at the same time, you realize something else.]

[You feel a connection between yourself and Excalibur Galatine.]

[It is as though you can foresee yourself wielding this blade in the future.]

And indeed, that was the case.

As Ian touched the Excalibur Galatine, he found that its scorching brilliance did not burn him.

Instead, he felt as though he was being blessed.

He understood everything in that moment.

["Excalibur Galatine: Sword of Revolving Victory++" Acquired: Due to Morgan's influence on you, the sun's blessing empowers both you and the sword, allowing you to wield it with ease.]

This was the sword that Princess Morgan, born of the lake, was meant to claim.

However, in her despair on the day of her exile, she failed to retrieve it in time.

Now, Ian—having shared countless days and nights with her and having been recognized by the lake—was deemed worthy of the Excalibur Galatine: Sword of Revolving Victory.

Was this mere coincidence?

Or had fate already been set in motion?

Ian stared at the fiery sword in his hand, sensing a force of fate intertwining with his own existence.

Beside him, Artoria appeared perplexed yet filled with awe.

She didn't comprehend the full weight of what had just transpired.

All she knew was that the man before her—just as she had hoped—had succeeded in claiming the lake's remaining sword.

"Sir Ian, I knew you could do it!"

"Between us... there truly is some kind of bond, isn't there?"

Her words suggested a heartfelt misunderstanding, seeing the event as a testament to their connection.

Ian hesitated for a long moment but ultimately chose not to correct her misconception.

Still—

There was a sense that something deeper needed to be addressed.

So then—

As long as it doesn't go too far, right?