Roya carefully tucked her phone away, eyes sparkling. "Thank you so much! eting you is such a stroke of luck!"
"Luck? What do you think of ?"
Mordred suddenly asked.
"You’re a true knight! If I may be a little bold, the King back then really did push Britain to its limits, so you were just stepping up in response to the situation."
Roya thought for a mont, then added earnestly, "Even if it wasn’t you, soone else would have stood up eventually. Soone had to put an end to decades of war!"
"Is that so?"
Mordred looked stunned.
Everyone saw her as a traitorous knight, the one who brought ruin to Britain.
But now, this young girl was evaluating her like this.
"Yes, exactly! It wasn’t your fault—it was the world’s fault!"
Roya declared with absolute certainty.
"Interesting. You really are interesting."
Mordred smiled, feeling genuinely happy talking to her.
If this girl were a Heroic Spirit, she’d probably be a perfect knight like her.
"Honestly, even parents don’t always understand their children. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be so much rebellion," Roya said seriously, clenching her small fists.
"Yeah. I just wanted recognition—not the throne itself."
Mordred sighed, glancing at the hat on Roya’s head. "Back then, I wore the ’Helm of Hidden Infidelity,’ concealing my appearance and gender. I worked tirelessly every day, just hoping for my father’s acknowledgnt."
"But in the end, she never acknowledged !"
If she had, would things have turned out this way?
"Exactly! The King was too fixated on perfection—so perfect that she couldn’t guide a lost knight."
Following Mordred’s gaze, Roya took off her hat and grumbled, "I’ve been studying hard too, but that guy won’t even let play gas!"
Earlier, what mattered most to Mordred was wearing the [Helm of Hidden Infidelity], and keeping her hat on in front of it would have been too disrespectful, so naturally, she had to remove it as a sign of respect.
Roya grew angrier the more she spoke.
She always ranked first in every exam, yet that shut-in still wouldn’t let her play gas!
"Hmm, I understand how you feel."
Mordred nodded.
Back when she was being trained by Naless, no matter how hard she pushed herself in every session, she was still constantly lectured.
Under that devilish tutelage, she beca the finest Knight of the Round Table in just a few short years.
The more Mordred talked with her, the more they clicked.
If not for the vast gap in their statuses, she would’ve loved to be sisters with her.
Just as she was about to continue the conversation—
She suddenly saw the distant door open, and King Arthur stepping out. "Mordred, it’s ti to go."
"Alright."
Mordred glanced at the little girl beside her. "Sorry, I have to leave now."
"It’s fine, go ahead."
Roya’s eyes sparkled as she stared at the distant king.
That was King Arthur!
Today was truly her lucky day—she got to et two heroic spirits up close like this!
Unfortunately, facing a king whose majesty was akin to a deity, she didn’t dare approach, let alone ask for a photo.
She didn’t dare go over, but the other party strode toward her instead.
There was no helping it.
The place she stood was the only exit.
Roya trembled slightly as she greeted, "Greetings, Your Majesty!"
"Hmm."
King Arthur gave her a slight nod in passing, walking away with effortless grace.
Yet, after just two steps, she suddenly stopped!
"W-what’s wrong?" Roya instinctively shrank back.
Under that gaze, it felt as if a dragon were staring at her—her entire body prickled with unease.
"Little one, that hat in your hands is quite lovely. Who gave it to you?"
Artoria asked softly.
Behind her, Mordred looked baffled, utterly unable to understand why a re hat would draw her father’s attention.
Was she reminded of the helt she used to wear?
"I-it was Mr. Gold! Mr. Gold gave it to !"
Roya stamred, flustered as she clumsily offered the hat. "W-would you like to have it?"
"It’s a lovely hat. You should keep it."
Artoria took the hat and gently placed it back on Roya’s head herself, her smile growing even warr.
Impressive, Gilgash.
If the girl hadn’t taken off the hat herself, I might have been fooled.
An ordinary girl, wearing a hat forged at the level of a divine Noble Phantasm.
Well done, Gilgash.
So, what exactly are you trying to hide?
"Y-yes, I think it’s really pretty too!"
Roya’s face flushed bright red with excitent.
This was too—too lucky!
To have King Arthur personally place a hat on her head—no one else in the entire world could claim such an honor!
If Souma heard about this, he’d definitely be stunned, his eyes burning with envy!
Then, the king extended her hand in invitation. "Earlier, I saw you chatting happily with Mordred. Would you like to join us?"
"H-huh???"
Roya felt like her ears and eyes were playing tricks on her. Why was she seeing and hearing King Arthur invite her?
Dazed for a mont, she finally snapped back to reality, nodding her head like a pecking chick.
This wasn’t just luck—it was as if Alaya had blessed her, treating her like the protagonist of destiny!
"Huh?"
Mordred was bewildered.
Her father seed... a little off. Why was she so invested in an ordinary girl?
Wait—was she trying to keep Roya close just to make her worship her, only to later turn her into a resentful enemy?
She quickly stepped forward, grabbing Roya’s hand and shielding her behind her.
Damn you, Father! I won’t let you have your way!
"Well then, we should get going. Another Servant is about to arrive." Artoria paid no mind to her antics, striding ahead.
Her blue cloak fluttered as she led the way.
The others hurried to follow.
Gawain rubbed his nose, feeling like things had slipped slightly out of control.
And there were others joining this battlefield—
No, this official visit?
....
In the lobby of the hotel.
Many of Fuyuki Magecraft Academy’s higher-ups had gathered.
Even Souma, as the student representative, had been called to wait.
"What’s going on? Who else is coming?"
Souma was baffled.
The British delegation had already been welcod.
Gilgash had arrived early, which everyone knew, so there was no need for a special reception.
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
Gilgash stepped forward, his golden radiance making him exceptionally eye-catching.
Countless caras frantically clicked their shutters, capturing this heroic spirit from every possible angle.
"You damn golden bastard, all you ever do is watch the show!"
Souma really wanted to have another heart-to-heart talk with him.
That guy had just casually glanced over, clearly looking at him with amusent.
Fine, there was no hope of relying on him now.
Fortunately, he had given Roya Hades’s cap of Invisibility earlier—there was no way anyone would notice her uniqueness.
Let the storm rage even fiercer—
Boom! Boom! Boom!
A fleet of luxury cars—Bugattis, Maybachs, Rolls-Royces—rolled in from the distance, forming an absurdly extravagant motorcade.
Souma’s heart instantly turned cold as he stared blankly at the woman stepping out of the lead car.
It was none other than the Emperor of France, the Dark Saint—
Jeanne d’Arc!
The crowd erupted into cheers, and cara shutters went wild once again.
The entire hotel instantly transford into a boiling sea of excitent.
At this mont.
Souma finally understood why Gilgash had deigned to make a personal appearance.
He just wanted to see Souma’s shocked expression!
That damn sadistic bastard!
Jeanne d’Arc’s sudden arrival, completely outside expectations, sent a jolt through Souma’s heart.
Because, as the ordinary student representative of Fuyuki Magecraft Academy, he would now have to interact with these heroic spirits up close!
***
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