The mont these words were spoken, everyone in the room stared at each other in shock.
The room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop!
Especially Mordred, who wore an expression of utter disbelief.
Despite standing right beside her, her father—the King—had the audacity to praise another girl as more well-behaved and suitable to be her daughter than her!
Should I just leave then?
Mordred felt as if a dagger had been plunged straight into her fragile heart.
And this was right in front of her face!
How could you be so smooth at this?
Just how many daughters have you secretly adopted behind my back?
How far must you push away before you’re satisfied?
Mordred finally saw through it—her father was deliberately making indirect criticisms.
Clearly, this was a reprimand for her earlier defiance.
Seeing her and Roya getting along so well and even considering becoming sworn sisters, the King had swiftly intervened to steal Roya’s affection, ensuring the girl would beco utterly infatuated with her instead.
And then, Roya would inevitably distance herself—or even grow to hate Mordred!
What a terrifying father she had!
Just look—this little girl they’d only just t was now blushing furiously, her petite body trembling slightly.
Stamring, Roya replied, "Ah, n-no, that’s not true at all! Sir Mordred is far, far better than . I’m just an ordinary person..."
She was so nervous she trembled all over, looking as if she might faint at any mont.
Mordred sighed inwardly.
Great. Another one conquered by Father, soon to beco another rabid King fanatic.
Back then, it was after eting the King that she had beco the most fervent Knight of the Round Table.
Even enduring the brutal training under the Naless devil hadn’t broken her.
The young Mordred had stubbornly held her ground, determined to prove herself to both Naless and King Arthur.
Yet, while Naless had constantly scolded her on the surface, he had secretly cared for and encouraged her all along.
In contrast, King Arthur had perfectly embodied the imposing majesty of an aloof, flawless monarch—never praising Mordred even once.
Let alone acknowledging her identity.
In her despair, Mordred had thought, "Fine, if Father won’t recognize , at least one person does."
But then, even Naless was about to be taken away by the King.
Enough was enough!
She had ignited the Battle of Camlann, determined to prove that the King had been wrong—in governance, in policy, in everything!
Roya felt her heart pounding wildly, as if she were floating in a dream.
Today was just... just too, too wonderful!
The legendary King of Knights from the Round Table of Britain, the pinnacle of heroic spirits—King Arthur herself—had just praised Roya as more suited to be her daughter than Mordred.
Wow, does that an... she wants to adopt ?
Roya’s mouth went dry, the whole situation feeling surreal.
First, the impossibly wealthy Mr. Gold had appeared, selling her a ticket to the Heroic Spirit gathering—giving her the chance to et them in person.
Praise be to Mr. Gold! You truly are my god of wealth!
When I get back, I’ll make sure to worship you properly!
As she trembled with excitent and took a slight step back, she nearly tripped over the hem of her skirt.
Artoria gently reached out to support her slender waist, pulling her upright.
Under her gaze of breathless happiness, King Arthur adjusted the hat that was about to fall off her head: "There, your hat is straight now. You’re doing great, no need to be so nervous. I’m not going to eat you."
"Thank you for your praise, King Arthur!"
Roya took a deep breath, doing her best to calm herself down.
The happiness felt so unreal, filling her with excitent and thrill as if her heart might leap out of her chest at any mont.
At that mont.
Jeanne d’Arc, who had been quietly watching, frowned slightly: "Tch, the King Arthur who supposedly ’knows not the human heart’ has actually learned to sweet-talk little girls now?"
What kind of act was this woman putting on before her?
If she truly cared about others so much, would she have been criticized for "knowing not the human heart"?
Would Mordred have risen up in the Battle of Camlann, becoming the cause of ancient Britain’s downfall?
Keep it simple, just say what you an.
Skip the escalating emotions—you’re not an actor, so stop staging these scenes!
When did you start lowering your standards to put on such clumsy performances?
"You don’t understand."
Artoria glanced at her dismissively, "You who were born from flas of vengeance are the one who truly knows not the human heart. You really understand nothing at all!"
A supposed saint of Catholicism, yet after death she beca an avenging witch seeking to bring ruin upon France.
This Emperor of France had nearly destroyed the very land that bore and raised her.
And this person dared to say that she knew not the human heart?
"Hmph, my approval ratings are higher than yours."
The Dark Saint snorted coldly.
As the fairest and most just head of state, her approval ratings consistently remained above 99%, even slightly surpassing King Arthur’s.
She smiled at the young girl: "Little Roya, would you like to co to France? I happen to be looking for a lovely daughter, and seeing how sweet and obedient you are makes quite fond of you."
Whatever the other party wants to do, I’ll take it from them!
If you double down, then I’ll—
Super double down!
There’s no way you can defeat with seventeen cards. If you can, I’ll eat the little l0l! in front of right here and now!
"Huh?"
Roya turned her head blankly, staring at the other person, wondering if she was dreaming again.
What’s going on?
Had Alaya stopped hiding its favoritism toward her and decided to turn her into the overpowered protagonist of a Mary Sue novel?
Two top-tier Heroic Spirits—both rulers of nations—were personally fighting over her as their daughter!
Oh god, if Souma found out, that guy would definitely kneel and cling to her leg, raving about how he’d hit the jackpot in the lottery!
Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.
So, which one should she choose?
King Arthur was flawless, with a broader vision and the majesty befitting a ruler.
Though rumored to be cold and ruthless, up close, she treated Roya with the gentleness of a mother.
And then there was the Emperor of France, who remained active on the world stage, her unrestrained, domineering speeches often sending countless people into frenzied excitent.
The tyrannical Dark Saintess did whatever she pleased, turning the French Parliant into her personal echo chamber.
Anyone who dared oppose her? Pack your bags and go ho to farm potatoes!
This was what they called—
[Jeanne-Style Fairness!]
If she beca her daughter, Roya would be a lawless little princess whom no one dared to discipline.
She could have whatever she wanted and do whatever she pleased—how blissful would that be?!
For the first ti, Roya found herself drowning in the agony of happiness.
Her mind went blank, utterly unable to think.
What should she do? Who should she choose?
"Little Roya, we’re about to visit Fuyuki Magecraft Academy later. You can co with us."
Artoria stood up, showing no sign of impatience.
Earlier, a mysterious ripple from Avalon had begun recharging the long-lost sheath [Avalon].
Clearly,
This was all rlin’s doing.
He and Naless had always been at odds, so he’d be more than happy to see Naless lured out and humiliated.
That dream-eating brat who loved spectating was probably hiding in his tower at the ends of the world—
Or maybe he was already here, watching the show in person!
But it didn’t matter.
Artoria had co to Fuyuki City simply to see how he was doing. She hadn’t dared hope he would leave with her.
With a new daughter now, had that guy really settled down and married so woman?
No, no.
This daughter’s identity seed a bit... special. She didn’t seem entirely human—more like so kind of collective entity.
As a wielder of the Holy Sword and one of the planet’s guardians, Artoria instinctively sensed sothing ominous.
Could it be...
Naless was still shouldering so great responsibility, pretending to retire while continuing to protect the world?
What an infuriating yet admirable man!
***
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