The days passed by one after another. For Aslan and Melusine, life was extremely fulfilling—one had to diligently study swordsmanship under Balin, while the other had to not only master swordsmanship but also continue learning more magic.
And just like that, a year went by in the blink of an eye.
During this past year, Balin had finally taken up his own treasured sword. The treasured sword meant for Melusine's left arm had also been successfully forged. It was all thanks to the repeated disturbances from the magi that they were able to gather enough materials so quickly. In a way, those magi and knights were practically money-delivering children.
On this particular afternoon, Aslan had just finished his morning swordsmanship lesson. After lunch, it was time for his magic lesson with Morgan. However, when he entered the carriage where Morgan was waiting, she didn't immediately start the lesson. Instead, she took out two gemstones.
Aslan stared at the gems Morgan handed him, his eyes widening in surprise. His voice was filled with delight. "You really managed to make them? You truly are the greatest witch on the Isle of Britain! Thank you, Teacher Morgan."
Morgan's simulated persona gave a small nod. Though her personality leaned toward coldness, over the course of the year, this simulated persona—originally created in haste—had gradually matured. Now, she resembled a real person more than ever. So, in response to Aslan's praise, even she couldn't help but let a faint smile curl the corners of her lips.
Learning magic wasn't particularly difficult for Aslan. In fact, this indicated that his innate magical talent was likely among the best of the best. Though this era probably didn't yet have the means to measure the number of magic circuits one had, Aslan still couldn't determine exactly how many were within him.
Compared to magic, which he could grasp shortly after learning, Aslan was much slower in mastering swordsmanship. This led him to have a sudden, perhaps even fanciful idea—what if there were a way to reproduce Balin's sword techniques and silently imprint them upon his own muscle memory?
Not just during the day through conscious training, but also by re-experiencing them during dreams at night, and even in real combat, using the afterimages engraved in his eyes as guidance.
There were many methods to make someone instantly grasp a technique, but none they could currently realize. However, a slow and steady approach like this might still be feasible. Since Aslan wasn't studying magic in this specific field, he ultimately had to rely on Morgan. But he never expected that Morgan would actually succeed in realizing this "fantasy" of his in less than a month.
Now that they had these gemstones, even if Balin had to leave to participate in the "story" destined for him in this era, Aslan and Melusine could continue delving deeper, growing according to their original plan.
"There's also this," Morgan added, taking out a scroll of parchment.
The scroll recorded foundational magical knowledge that Aslan would need to study further. After all, their little team was only a temporary arrangement—there was no telling when they might part ways.
Since she had already inscribed Balin's techniques into the gemstones, Morgan's simulated persona also went ahead and crafted this scroll as a precaution. After all, she had promised to teach this young man before her properly—she wasn't one to break her word.
For once, Aslan didn't try to act composed. Filled with joy, he hugged Morgan like an excited young boy, then quickly dashed out of the carriage to find Melusine. After all, she had been complaining lately that humans were so troublesome—they had to learn so many complicated techniques just to fight. Dragons, in contrast, relied purely on physical combat.
Of course, that was only a complaint, nothing more.
But now that they had found a shortcut, at least it would take some pressure off Melusine.
Morgan's simulated persona hadn't expected anyone to hug her. Even if she was just a simulated personality, her body still belonged to the greatest witch of the Isle of Britain. Her name alone carried fearsome weight. To be treated like this was exceedingly rare.
You could say that over the past year, this little team on the road had grown more and more harmonious. Even Morgan had begun to integrate into the group—albeit only through her simulated persona, but that persona was still derived from her true self.
Just when it seemed this team might grow even closer, another group arrived not far away.
Kay once again had to clean up the mess left by Artoria and Merlin. He sighed, saying, "Next time, Merlin, could you please just not talk at all?"
Merlin, the flower magus, lightly patted his own chest and replied, "Now that's just hurtful. I was merely offering a deep analysis of human behavior patterns. When dealing with a situation, sometimes an outsider sees more clearly than those involved."
Kay twitched the corner of his mouth, then covered his face with his hand. He couldn't beat the court magus—not in words or fists. Besides, the royal family had instructed them to treat Merlin with respect throughout this journey. Still… why did he feel such a strong urge to punch that smug face?
Not far away, Artoria rested her chin on her hand, reflecting on everything that had happened, examining her actions, and thinking about how she might grow further as a king.
Dressed in pristine white armor, her hair tied in a single ponytail, she drew the Sword of Selection from her waist. Bathed in sunlight, the blade gleamed with a noble, magnificent brilliance. The embedded gems sparkled radiantly.
Suddenly, the Golden Sword of Assured Victory flashed twice, its tip pointing in a specific direction.
Artoria turned her head to look toward where the sword was pointing. Then she looked again at the blade in her hand, and couldn't help but recall the boy she had seen when she pulled the sacred sword from the stone. To this day, she still didn't know the boy's name. Even her teacher, Merlin, remained tight-lipped about him.
But she wanted to see him again. Perhaps it was simple curiosity, or maybe it was just her instincts. The feelings were so complicated that even she couldn't figure out the true reason behind them anymore.
"Teacher Merlin… can we head in that direction next?"
Hearing her request, Merlin looked up toward the direction she indicated. It wasn't deep within Vortigern's territory, which meant it was still relatively safe. In that case...
Merlin nodded and smiled. "Of course. As the king wishes."