Shiomi's lighthearted banter with Artoria quickly drew the attention of the Knights of the Round Table, who had been catching up among themselves.
"King Arthur is smiling!" Gareth said excitedly. "I've never seen the King smile so sincerely."
"Come to think of it," Percival said, "is that person Chaldea's Master? I sense a familiar presence from him."
What Percival did not realize was that it was the resonance between those who bore Longinus.
When they had briefly met at the Temple of Time, Shiomi had not yet reached his current state.
Moreover, the Longinus Percival wielded belonged to Proper Human History, whereas the Longinus in Shiomi's hands would more accurately be called the [Nameless Chosen Spear].
"That's right," Gawain said after thinking back. "He was an exceptionally formidable opponent. Even with the blessing of the sun, I was ultimately defeated by his coordination with Sir Bedivere."
Bedivere let out a soft laugh. "That was nothing more than good fortune. The reason I can now answer the King's summons in this form is largely thanks to Mr. Shiomi's help back then. He allowed me to fulfill my duty, so that I might stand with all of you and be recorded upon the Throne of Heroes."
"No, hold on, you two," Lancelot said, pinching his chin. "Now isn't the time to trade stories of valor."
Tristan casually plucked at his strings. "Don't you find the King's expression unusually gentle? Unusually relaxed, even. To be blunt, the King looks almost like a wom—"
"Lower your voice, Tristan," Gawain said hastily, clapping a hand over his mouth. "Don't forget. The King who summoned us did not truly die, but instead transcended into the Holy Lance Goddess."
Lancelot was already breaking into a cold sweat. "If we make the King uncomfortable, I'm afraid that even with a great enemy before us, we'll still receive the punishment we deserve."
"Surely His Majesty wouldn't go that far," Bedivere said with a strained smile.
At that moment, they realized the space around them had suddenly grown emptier. Percival had already stepped up beside Artoria and Shiomi, drawing both of their attention.
"Is something the matter, Percival?" Artoria asked without overthinking it.
"No. I simply wished to greet my King, whom I have not seen for some time," Percival replied respectfully. "Seeing Your Majesty in such high spirits fills us Knights of the Round Table with renewed resolve."
"You're far too formal. You really haven't changed," Artoria said.
Then Percival shifted the topic rather stiffly toward Shiomi. "That said, this Master of Chaldea seems to share a particularly close rapport with my King. I would assume he is the warrior most trusted by Your Majesty, aside from ourselves?"
Though the words were polished, they did little to hide Percival's curiosity about the relationship between Shiomi and Artoria.
Listening from behind, the other Knights of the Round Table found themselves torn between worrying that Percival was being too direct, and praising him for asking exactly the right question.
It was the sort of inquiry only Percival could make without giving the impression of ulterior motives.
"To say I'm deeply trusted would be an exaggeration," Shiomi said, folding his arms. "We've simply survived countless life-or-death battles together. No matter the crisis or the battlefield, your King and I can entrust our backs to one another and fight side by side."
It was an answer without a single opening, neatly sidestepping Percival's attempt to probe any deeper.
"Speaking of which," Artoria continued smoothly, "Tenkei also wields a Longinus from another history. Since Percival is here, why not take this opportunity to exchange insights?"
Before carrying out today's summoning, Artoria had done her homework thoroughly. She had already prepared a way to redirect the conversation for every Knight of the Round Table.
"If that's the case, then you must let me see it for myself."
As expected, Percival's interest was immediately piqued. There should only be a single Longinus in existence. Shiomi must have obtained another version of the spear from some Lostbelt, one with a different alignment.
It might not even have been the one that pierced the Savior's chest.
"Oh my, Percival's attention has been completely diverted," Tristan said lightly.
The other knights, watching from the side, had all noticed it as well. Still, if they kept pressing the issue, it would become obvious that at such a critical moment, they were somehow still fixated on the King's inconsequential private matters.
Lancelot had already sensed Mash's gaze sharpening, so keen it almost felt tangible. Under that pressure, he dared not involve himself in the conversation any further.
Just as they were thinking it was time to disperse and head to Drake and Bartholomew's ships to make preparations, the appearance of someone unexpected left them utterly stunned.
"Um, Father… the Storm Border will be setting sail in an hour. Once you're finished here, please return to the bridge and prepare."
Artoria Caster, as usual, was running errands.
Though she could not fight on the front lines, she was perfectly content providing support from the rear.
The seventeen-year-old fairy girl ran out from the ship's interior, delivered the message to Shiomi, and then bowed respectfully toward the King of Knights.
"Did you see that?" Sir Gawain said, his face frozen in shock.
"Although she has the same face as our King, she is not the King," Tristan said, his eyes now fully open. "And the aura she carries is not that of a Servant."
"What an utterly pure and carefree smile," Lancelot said, eyes wide as he spoke in amazement. "That is unmistakably the smile of a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old girl, untouched by the world, raised in safety and comfort, a young lady sheltered and cherished since childhood."
"So that girl is…" Gareth tilted his head, staring at Caster with open curiosity.
Sensing their gazes, Caster, who had been about to head back inside the ship, flinched in surprise. Realizing that they were the famed Knights of the Round Table, and having yet to properly meet them, she treated them with great respect.
After offering a formal bow, she returned inside.
Only after Artoria Caster's figure disappeared did Bedivere attempt to smooth things over. "She must… simply be a girl who happens to resemble our King. Much like Miss Gray…"
"Resemble?" Sir Gawain said with a sigh. "She looks exactly the same. It's like seeing our King in her younger years."
"So that means she's actually our King's secret daughter?" Tristan casually dropped an utterly explosive theory.
Gareth froze on the spot. "Wait, seriously?"
"What Sir Tristan says does make a lot of sense," Lancelot said, folding his arms and nodding along with the dangerous line of thought. "To think our King has already attained the happiness of an ordinary person… As Knights of the Round Table, I truly don't know whether we should feel sorrow or jo—"
A massive shield came crashing down from above.
"Get a grip, Sir Lancelot!"
While everyone else was indulging in reckless speculation, only Lancelot took Mash's blow head-on, sent flying to the side before smashing into the rocks along the shore.