At the very top of the castle.
What had once been a small room had now been transford into sothing resembling a mage's laboratory. Strange magical artifacts were scattered everywhere.
Morgan clicked her tongue in dissatisfaction.
"This is such a nuisance. I'm missing so many materials… how troubleso."
Creak.
The door slowly opened as Arthur stepped inside, smiling.
"Elder Sister, you should really tidy this place up. It's far too chaotic."
"Hmph!"
Morgan gave her signature snort, clearly displeased.
"Arthur, I don't recall inviting you. And do you think these things can just be 'tidied up' casually? One wrong move and I could send all of Britannia into the sky."
"…."
Arthur's expression stiffened slightly.
He knew she was exaggerating—but only slightly. Judging from the state of the room, whatever she was working on was undoubtedly dangerous.
Shaking his head helplessly, he said, "At least be careful with these hazardous experints. If sothing goes wrong, Britannia will suffer for it."
"I know what I'm doing," Morgan replied lightly. "Nothing will happen."
Of course she wouldn't allow anything to go wrong. What kind of mage would she be if she failed at basic laboratory safety?
That said—
The entire room was layered with countless magical barriers. Clearly, even Morgan herself did not fully trust her concoctions not to explode at so point.
After all, magical research had an alarmingly high rate of "unexpected developnts."
And as the saying went—if sothing goes wrong in a mage's lab, can it even be called a problem? Of course not.
Arthur rely chuckled and changed the subject.
"You haven't stepped outside in quite a while. Don't you want to get so fresh air?"
He knew his sister was sothing of a shut-in, but staying locked away like this wasn't healthy.
Morgan shook her head calmly.
"No interest. But, Arthur… Agravain and the others seem to have learned sothing. And they haven't told you."
Arthur showed no surprise.
"Does that matter?" he replied gently. "Trust is enough. When they confirm the intelligence and deem it appropriate, they'll inform ."
"Hmph… perhaps."
Morgan wasn't pleased with that confident, composed attitude of his.
Arthur had always been confident—but now there was sothing deeper. A sense that everything was within his grasp.
It irritated her slightly.
Not because of distrust. rely sibling rivalry.
Changing the topic, Morgan asked, "Recently, many unfamiliar ships have appeared near Britannia's waters. They never approach fully—just appear briefly, then retreat."
"I'm aware," Arthur said calmly. "Six months of peace has already been generous."
He paused, eyes growing colder.
"Those people won't allow Britannia to grow in tranquility."
His tone was mild, but a chilling intent flickered beneath it.
He knew exactly who was watching.
And precisely because he knew—he felt no need to show rcy.
If they wanted war…
Then let it begin.
A faint smile curved his lips.
"I'm curious," Arthur said softly. "Let's see who makes the first move."
He had suspicions—but not certainty. How many forces were lurking behind the curtain? Even he couldn't say.
Truthfully, he had been slightly surprised.
Six months.
After everything settled, Britannia had entered half a year of uninterrupted developnt. No major force had launched a direct assault—not against Fish-Man Island, nor against the Visma Region.
The Visma Region still had its usual mad pirates—but aside from them, no significant players had acted.
Which ant only one thing.
Soone was preparing sothing bigger.
Perhaps waiting for a decisive strike.
Arthur didn't mind.
If they gave him ti to build, he would build.
And in just half a year—
Three elite armies had erged.
10,000 knights under Galahad in Britannia proper—tempered and sharpened.
10,000 knights under Gareth in the Visma Region—battle-hardened through constant warfare.
10,000 Fish-Man knights under Gawain on Fish-Man Island—elite among elites.
Arthur was already considering formally elevating Gawain's Fish-Man forces from probationary knights to full mbers of the Round Table's military order.
That was how refined they had beco.
If his enemies believed they alone had prepared—
They were mistaken.
Arthur had prepared just as thoroughly.
He was almost eager.
"In a direct war," he murmured with confidence, "I truly don't see how I could lose."
Morgan crossed her legs elegantly in her chair, smiling faintly.
"That confidence suits you. As for —I've prepared a very interesting gift."
Arthur imdiately stiffened.
"Big Sister… please spare . Do you have any idea how many disasters you've created in the past six months? Agravain and I are exhausted cleaning up after you."
He wasn't exaggerating.
Morgan's "research incidents" were too nurous to count.
Just recently, Lamorak had been transford into a frog for ten whole days due to one of her experints.
And Lamorak was not a patient one.
If Arthur hadn't intervened—and if Morgan hadn't offered generous compensation—the castle might have lost a tower or two.
Without the Island's blessing, Morgan wouldn't even necessarily defeat Lamorak in a straight fight.
After all, Lamorak bore both a demon's curse and an angel's blessing—making him extraordinarily resilient against both magic and physical assault.
"Hmph!" Morgan lifted her chin proudly. "This ti, your second sister helped . It's practically foolproof."
Arthur blinked.
"Second Sister joined you… willingly?"
"That's hardly 'fooling around'!" Morgan retorted.
Arthur was genuinely surprised.
His second sister had always been gentle and composed—not the type to indulge in experintal chaos.
Curiosity got the better of him.
"What exactly did you create?"
Morgan explained.
Arthur froze.
He stared at her.
"…You can create sothing like that?"
Three months ago, Morgan had asked Arthur for a vial of his blood. He hadn't thought much of it.
After all, she had created Mordred before—another powerful child born of her magic. He had grown used to it.
But this ti—
She hadn't created a child.
Instead, she had been researching sothing far greater.
Morgan smiled proudly.
"Have you noticed sothing different about Britannia's islands recently?"
Arthur nodded slowly.
"There's a subtle, mysterious force forming. Weak… but steadily increasing."
Morgan's eyes glead.
"That force is divine power."
Arthur's expression changed instantly.
"Divine power? Are you certain?"
Divine power.
The energy of the mythic age.
The reason demigods once walked the earth. The reason magical beasts and countless races flourished.
When divine power waned, the Age of Myth ended.
Britannia's original fall had been tied to that loss.
Even when Arthur summoned Britannia's islands into this world, he hadn't detected any divine energy. He assud it was due to the world's laws.
But now—
"It's recovering," Morgan confird. "Slowly. At this rate, it may take twenty years to return to the level Britannia had before its destruction. But the important part is this—"
"It is returning."
Arthur fell silent.
If divine power was reviving—
Then mythology itself was awakening.
As long as divine power existed, even faintly, Britannia would no longer rely be a political power.
It would beco sothing far older.
Far greater.
The rebirth of myth.
And that—
Was far more terrifying than any fleet of ships.
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