After a short while, Balin finally understood the full story and realized that the mysterious witch who had been traveling with them all along was actually none other than Morgan of the royal family.
Thinking back on it, it had truly been an unforgettable experience. But now that Morgan had chosen to leave, it also meant that their group could no longer continue forward together. Balin began to entertain the thought of leaving as well. After all, he had already engraved all of his experience into the gemstone—so even if he left, the young boy and girl before him would still be able to continue learning.
He was a wandering knight with no fixed place to settle down, nor did he need one. To him, traveling the world and eventually dying on the battlefield would be a fulfilling end.
Now that his swordsmanship had found a successor, and he had even gained a powerful sword, he felt content.
Balin scratched his head and looked at the boy and girl in front of him. Taking a deep breath, he said, "In that case, I'll be parting ways with you too. This past year spent with you both has been a real joy. I'm sure we'll meet again someday. Hahaha! Gotta stay cheerful, gotta let go gracefully…"
As he spoke, he turned his head away, his eyes glistening with moisture. "Parting is so that we can have a better reunion next time, so we have to smile when we say goodbye. This isn't the time for tears—we're all grown men, right? It'd be embarrassing to cry now… Not that I'm crying, of course! Just got some sand in my eyes… hic!"
Even as he tried to brush it off, the poor knight ended up crying first. He kept turning his head, insisting over and over again that it was just sand in his eyes.
"Look, isn't this the seaside? With the wind and the sand, it's totally normal to get some in your eyes! Hic—! Anyway, even if we part ways now, don't forget me, alright? And when you're out there, stay safe. If you ever sense that a war's about to break out, make sure to find somewhere to hide and only resume your travels once things have calmed down."
From his pocket, Balin pulled out a small handkerchief and gently wiped his nose. With a gaze full of fatherly affection, he looked at the two before him. "Eat well, don't stay up too late, and whatever you do—don't go anywhere near Vortigern's territory, got it?"
Looking at the disheveled knight in front of him, Aslan couldn't help but feel like he was watching a father tearfully sending his child off to school. The tears, the snot—it was a sight that was both touching and a little funny. Yet, as the oldest member of their group, Balin was, in some strange way, also the youngest at heart among the three of them.
As the elder of the party, Aslan and Melusine understood Balin's show of emotion.
Thanks to this sudden turn of events, the four-person group that was supposed to continue their journey on the island was now disbanded. Aslan no longer had any desire to keep traveling for the time being. The goals he had set for this trip—learning magic and swordsmanship—had both been achieved. He could now mark them both off his list.
The next period of time would be filled with battles where King Arthur would first begin to make her name known. After that, she would gradually come into opposition with her adopted father. It would be the perfect time for Aslan to digest everything he had learned so far.
His next major moves would be acquiring the Spear of Longinus and reclaiming the Golden Sword of Assured Victory.
Looking at the rations in his hand, then glancing at Melusine, Aslan gave a faint smile. "Let's go back to the forest. For the next few years, I don't think we'll be going anywhere else."
Melusine's eyes lit up, and she immediately threw her arms around Aslan. The reason was simple—this meant that for the next few years, it would go back to just the two of them living together.
Those annoying fairies might be a hassle, but they were far more perceptive than humans. At least under her draconic pressure, the fairies wouldn't force themselves to cling to Aslan out of fear.
To Aslan, this coming period would be rather dull. Each day was filled with repetitive and meticulous tasks—refining weapons and armor he had envisioned, calculating the timing for everything, asking the fairies to scout information about King Arthur, and practicing his swordsmanship daily. There was little variation in his routine.
But that monotony was not without its peace. Compared to his cousin—Artoria—his life was practically leisurely.
He had heard news about King Arthur from the fairies. The young monarch led the forces of King Ban and King Bors with courage and loyalty, launching a charge against the armies of eleven kings. The enemy had gathered sixty thousand soldiers, but in the end, Arthur cut them down to just fifteen thousand, securing dominance over half the island in a single campaign.
Afterward, she personally led a force to repel a northern invasion, helping King Leodegrance defend his territory successfully. It was there that she met Guinevere.
After firmly establishing her reign, the legendary Radiant City of Camelot was built—a city unlike any that had come before. Its massive size, its snow-white walls reflecting the sunlight, the palace and residential districts all made from pure white stone—it was a place of purity and light.
Even the fairy who brought news to Aslan couldn't help but marvel that it was a city that, once seen, could only be described as the home of miracles and the future.
In this dark era, in this age of declining gods, the construction of such a city signaled a convergence of manpower, resources, and wealth. At least for a time, it would improve the lives of the people. But ultimately, this brilliance was only temporary—treating the symptoms, not the root cause.
Not long after, within the radiant city of Camelot, Artoria married Guinevere as her queen and revealed her true gender, earning Guinevere's understanding.
Aslan hadn't learned the full details—such as how at a certain banquet, Morgan brought her sons to attend and managed to secretly obtain a sample from Artoria. From that moment on, Mordred was conceived.
Perhaps realizing that Arthur's rule had become unshakable, Morgan—now completely consumed by jealousy and curses, fully a witch in body and soul—decided that the only way to overthrow Artoria was through a dynastic shift by way of her own child.