[Holy crap, am I seeing something I'm not supposed to see?]
[So Morgan and King Arthur really did have a thing… then what about Guinevere? At this point in the timeline, Arthur should already be married, right?]
[Is there any chance this King Arthur is just… really into tofu?]
[No, stop, don't say it! My brain is getting pictures! Damn it, I want to grind with King Arthur too.]
[Wake up. If Arthur sees these comments, you're dead.]
[But that kiss between Arthur and Morgan… I got hooked. Rewatched it a dozen times. It's my phone wallpaper now.]
[Told you. I'm shipping this CP for life.]
"Watch closely. The most perfect child is about to be born!"
Morgan stared at the homunculus inside the incubation tank, madness glinting in her eyes.
This was the child of Morgan and Artoria—bearing the most flawless bloodline.
"Mm. I hope so. I want a perfect heir. Merlin and King Uther could do it—why can't I cultivate an outstanding king as well?"
Artoria looked at the baby in the vessel, tenderness and a dangerous fervor blooming in her gaze.
It was a mad decision, but it was the only way.
A wise king could allow a nation to prosper.
But "wise" didn't mean soft. It meant ruthless when necessary.
After all, a king with a gentle hand wouldn't live long enough to sit the throne.
During the child's incubation, Morgan stayed by the tank constantly, while Artoria came by often to check in.
A week later, Morgan invited Artoria to her magecraft workshop.
"Come witness our daughter's birth. Her name should be chosen by you."
Morgan looked into the vessel at the girl, affection spilling out of her.
The child's eyelids fluttered—she was on the verge of waking.
"Then wake up, my daughter. The moment you open your eyes, the world will rejoice for you. Your name is…"
Artoria's voice was regal yet gentle, as if it could reach through the glass.
The girl opened her eyes. Emerald-green pupils shone brightly, reflecting Artoria's figure.
"Mordred Pendragon!"
At that same instant, a burst of birdsong rose over Camelot outside.
Their chirping sounded like laughter, as if greeting someone new.
"My name is Mordred… Are you my mother? Are you my father?"
The moment she was born, Mordred already had the height and intellect of an eight-year-old.
"Little Mordred, from now on you are my only child—the heir to this kingdom."
Artoria lifted her into her arms, settled her on her lap, then pulled her own blanket down and draped it over Mordred.
"Father… I inherit."
She had only just been born. She could speak, but her mind still needed time to fully mature.
"Sister, our child… she doesn't have any defects, right?"
"Of course not. She's perfect—my magecraft talent, your body and bloodline."
"I mean in other ways. She won't have had a childhood, so I'm going to give her a perfect one. At least until she's had her fill of play, I won't force her to study kingship."
"Oh? Then you really are a good father. I'll be a proper wife, then. Don't worry—her lifespan will be long enough to outlive the two of us."
Morgan took their daughter from Artoria's arms, teasing Mordred's soft pink lips with slender fingers.
"Mom… hungry."
Mordred clung to Morgan instinctively, looking pitiful.
"I prepared for that. Drink this—special formula. It'll strengthen your constitution."
Artoria had anticipated everything and made all the arrangements.
But the barrage of comments exploded again.
[Damn it! I thought we'd get to see baby Mordred's cute little body, but why is there holy light censoring everything?!]
[So adorable… I want to raise a little Mordred too. Any beauties willing to make do with me?]
[Little Mordred, hehehe… my Little Mordred, I'm buying a ticket to Britannia right now.]
[Wake up, people. Shouldn't we be focusing on her birth history?!]
[Arthur is so gentle—first time I've seen her look like that. She really loves Little Mordred.]
[If this is "the king's legacy," does that mean Mordred really took the throne in the end?]
Inside Buckingham Palace, Mordred's cheeks were already flushed pink.
"This is fake. From the moment I was born, Mother trained me. How could it be like what the video says!"
She said it out loud, but jealousy was already eating at her.
Same father… but her father wasn't like that father.
Wasn't it said that pulling the Sword in the Stone stopped a body's development?
And yet the Arthur in the video witnessed her birth, named her, and said such beautiful things.
All of that was a childhood she never had.
What she had was endless training and killing.
Her only goal had been one thing—surpass King Arthur.
Even if that goal had already been shattered now, she still felt a stubborn urge to compete with the "her" in the video.
She refused to believe that someone who only had a playful childhood could be stronger than the real her who trained day and night.
"Did I really do wrong…?"
Artoria didn't answer Mordred's question. She just murmured to herself.
If she had done what the other Arthur did…
perhaps Mordred would never have betrayed her—perhaps she would have stood at her side.
That Arthur hadn't married either, so the Round Table never fractured over disagreements.
Even Morgan had been won over, reconciled, and helped wholeheartedly.
The Arthur in the video had dodged every risk of national ruin… and made up for every regret Artoria carried.
If she had chosen that path back then, maybe tragedy would never have happened.
"Your Majesty, something's wrong. I found a video—this plot seems…"
Gawain, wearing a white apron, ran in. When he saw the video in Artoria's hands, he froze.
"So you're watching it too. Should we have the creator take it down?"
"No need. The video is real, but it belongs to another worldline. And didn't you just see that King from the video earlier? What's there to be shocked about?"
Artoria turned her head. Her golden hair slid down her shoulder; she didn't pull her blanket up.
"Right. Hold a press conference tomorrow. I'm going to confirm its authenticity. At the very least, I want to express goodwill toward her."
Then she looked back at the screen, wanting to see what had become of Britannia in that other world.