Simulator in Type-moon, Starting with becoming Morgan husband!

Chapter 62: The Coward Has His Own Way

[You begin to fulfill your promise.]

[The first thing you do is silently spread rumors throughout Camelot.]

[The key point is the suspicion surrounding Artorius drawing the sword.]

[After all, she seems so small, completely unlike someone capable of doing such a thing.]

"Father, the rumors in the city are probably like this."

Gawain reported the information he had gathered to Ian.

"These kinds of rumors have been spreading quite a lot recently."

"They mainly suspect the act of Artorius drawing the sword – they believe this was an improper king selection."

Ian felt a little joy inside, but on the outside, he maintained a controlled expression.

"Well then, my son, what do you think about these rumors?"

"..."

Gawain was silent for a moment, then quickly answered respectfully:

"Father, since you acknowledged the act of drawing the sword that day, I have absolutely no complaints."

"It's just—"

"It's just what?" Ian looked at Gawain. "Gawain, if you have something to say, speak up. It's just the two of us here, no one else will know."

"Father."

Gawain's voice sounded a little awkward.

"Unlike their thoughts, I don't think the act of Artorius drawing the sword is anything too absurd."

"In fact, I feel that when we tested the sword, it was also choosing us."

"Gawain."

Ian looked at Gawain, who had just confessed his thoughts.

"So what you're saying is, even though you tried many times and ultimately lost your chance, you have no resentment at all?"

"It's not that I don't have any resentment, it's just that I think instead of resenting, I have other responsibilities I need to fulfill."

"..."

Ian patted Gawain on the shoulder.

"Gawain, you have the qualities that a knight should have."

"But you can leave now, I still have some things to take care of."

"Yes."

[You send Gawain off.]

[You realize that although your rumors have had an effect, it is not as perfect as you thought.]

[You feel the need to find out what your children think about the current situation.]

[First, you call Gaheris.]

[He is Gawain's younger brother, second among the siblings.]

"Gaheris."

"Father."

"Gaheris, what do you think about the rumors that have been circulating in the city?"

Ian got straight to the point.

"..."

Gaheris was silent for a moment, then expressed his opinion.

"Father, instead of thinking about the current issues, I want to evaluate the right or wrong of this situation through future actions."

"Maintain what is right, correct what is wrong. That is what you've taught us."

[You realize that Gaheris's thoughts are somewhat similar to Gawain's.]

[But compared to Gawain, who has no doubts, Gaheris seems to have his own set of standards for judgment.]

[You allow him to leave.]

[Then, you call Agravain.]

"Agravain."

"Father."

"Agravain, it seems you've never really expressed your opinion."

"But this time, I want to hear what you think about the rumors in the city."

"Meaningless."

Agravain almost immediately responded to Ian's question.

"Why do you think that?"

"Speak up, Agravain."

"Because that sword is meant for only one person."

Agravain looked at his own hand, as though recalling something.

"Father, when I touched it, I realized this."

Like Gawain, Agravain had participated in the sword-drawing challenge.

But unlike Gawain, his time trying was probably too short to even take a proper breath.

"So Agravain, do you think this method is reasonable?"

"It might be reasonable, or it might not be. But as long as it helps Britania survive, I have no objections."

[You realize that Agravain has matured far more than you thought.]

[He is not like Gawain, who readily admits his thoughts, nor like Gaheris, who maintains an observing attitude.]

[What he seems to seek is the long-term survival of Britania.]

[You allow him to leave.]

[You call Gareth next.]

[She is the youngest sister.]

"Father!"

Gareth bounced in front of Ian.

"You've talked to all the brothers, and now it's finally my turn?"

The youngest sibling is always especially cherished.

Gareth's energetic demeanor made Ian smile and pat her head.

"That's right, it's finally your turn."

"Tell me, what do you think about the rumors in the city?"

"Hmm—"

Gareth tilted her head slightly, narrowed her eyes, clenched her jaw, and took quite a while before she could finally speak.

"We should think about Camelot…"

"Stop."

Ian interrupted Gareth's somewhat incoherent words.

"Gareth, that's not what you really want to say, is it?"

"Eh?!"

Gareth's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Father, how did you know?"

"Because that's not the way you usually speak." Ian looked at his youngest daughter.

"Who taught you to say that?"

"I can't say!" Gareth waved her hand, "Otherwise, Brother Gawain will scold me!"

"So it was Gawain who taught you to say that."

"Eh——?!" Gareth was once again astonished, "How did you know when I didn't say anything?"

"It doesn't matter. Why did he teach you to speak like that?" Ian asked.

"Because Brother Gawain said…" Gareth muttered, "If I say what I really think, Father will definitely scold me."

Upon hearing this, Ian became intrigued.

"So Gareth, what were you really going to say?"

"Hmm…"

"Just say it. I won't be angry."

"Well—" Gareth pointed at her hand.

"Father, don't people always say, 'Even a poor field, if you plant many seeds, will eventually grow grain'?"

"So, I think the core issue lies with you and Mother."

"Look, you and Mother are both very capable people, and honestly, besides me, Gawain and the others are also very exceptional."

"I think that—"

Gareth looked up at Ian, her eyes sparkling.

"Let's say I had more little brothers and sisters, surely one of them would be able to draw the sword!"

"Then we wouldn't have to worry about this issue anymore!"

You can't help but admit that Gawain was right.

Gareth's statement had no real foundation, and after hearing it, one might wonder if there was something wrong with her way of thinking.

Still, since you promised not to get angry, you had to keep your word.

"Gareth, I understand your point now, and there's some truth to what you said."

"Phew~" Gareth sighed in relief.

"I told you! Brother Gawain was overreacting, how could Father get angry over something like that?!"

[Gareth happily left.]

[You reflect on all the conversations you had earlier.]

[You realize that the rumors are not everything.]

[Everyone has a different perspective on the rumors, and not everyone follows the same path. Your children are the clearest proof of that.]

[You decide to adopt some more drastic and cunning methods.]

[You want to make everyone realize that the appearance of Artorius might not necessarily be a good thing.]

In the magecraft workshop.

"Princess, do you think what I've proposed is possible?"

"Of course."

Morgan answered without hesitation, immediately.

"If it's just temporarily rendering the Magecraft seeds inactive, it's nothing difficult for me."

"But in that case..."

Morgan looked at Ian, her blue eyes filled with a hint of worry.

"You must understand what this means for the common folk."

"Yes, I understand."

Ian's gaze was steady, but there was a fleeting trace of regret—just for a moment.

"Therefore, no one must know this is related to the princess."

"I will bear all the blame myself."

"…"

Morgan stepped closer to Ian, standing on tiptoe, and placed a light kiss on his cheek, the skin marked by the passage of time.

"Ian, you're truly my best pawn."

"It should be like this, Princess."

[You have learned how to make the Magecraft seeds stop functioning from Morgan.]

[Your latent talent has been replaced by Heart of Absolute Devotion: Instead of using your talent for more righteous causes, sacrificing your conscience to serve Morgan seems to further stimulate your abilities.]

[Talent "Magic Enhance" has been activated: Based on what Morgan provided, you've optimized it, making the deactivation speed faster.]

[You know now that you are truly cowardly.]

[But this is the only way to counter this conspiracy.]

[The Magecraft seeds begin to deactivate.]

[The effects of the decline of the Age of Gods quickly spread to every field in Camelot.]

[The fields begin to grow black grain that has never been seen before.]

[This is an irreversible process; no amount of watering will help.]

[You continue manipulating the rumors in Camelot, blending them with the truth.]

[Soon, some people, not understanding, connect this phenomenon to the event of Artorius drawing the sword.]

[This is the result you desired.]

"Surely it's because the wrong person drew the sword!"

"Exactly! There's never been anything like this before! Our grain was of such good quality!"

"There's something wrong! There's definitely something wrong!"

Once accustomed to it, having everything stripped away becomes intolerable, no matter who it is.

[You continue to escalate the chaotic situation.]

[More and more commoners begin to approach you, those who had always endured and worked hard.]

[You pretend to listen to their demands, but in reality, you deliberately push the situation further toward extremity.]

[On the surface, you play the role of a good person, but at the same time, you are the worst kind of villain.]

[Finally, the situation you needed arises.]

[The knights who have endured enough begin spreading the thought of rejecting the one who drew the sword from the stone—they refuse the one who brought misfortune to Camelot.]

[You realize this is the perfect opportunity.]

[You meet with Artorius again.]

On the streets of Camelot, Ian and Artorius walk together, appearing quite familiar with each other.

Hateful glances flash from the houses on either side of the road, all directed at Artorius.

Ian understands everything in his heart, but on the outside, he still pretends to ask:

"Artorius, they seem to be looking at you."

"Sir Ian, I know."

Artorius scans the surroundings, but her green eyes show no sign of sadness.

"They think that my drawing of the sword has ruined the grain, which is why they are looking at me like that."

Ian feels a sense of sweet success in his resistance.

But he also knows that now is not the time for complacency.

"So, Artorius, I suppose you're feeling quite uncomfortable now, aren't you?"

"No."

Artorius turns to look at the much taller man. She smiles.

It's the smile of a young girl her age.

"Sir Ian, actually, I don't feel uncomfortable."

"Before I drew this sword, I heard a voice coming from it, telling me that I would gain many things, but I would also lose many things."

"So—"

Artorius looks into Ian's eyes, her green eyes full of deep emotion.

"Since what I can gain is already in my hands."

"Then I must endure the things I've lost."

"Moreover, I don't think this is a disaster I've caused."

"Therefore, I will not feel sorrow."

Artorius—or should we say Artoria—speaks very honestly.

This is the pact and vow she made with the sword in her hand.

Now, she holds nothing back and fully expresses it to Ian.

However—

Artoria doesn't know something.

The more clearly she expresses her special exchange with the sword, the more Ian feels overwhelming pain.

The effort and sacrifice in a preordained deception are completely meaningless.

What a great irony!

Ian's fingernails nearly dig deep into his palm, his face showing a hint of hatred.

"Sir Ian, what's wrong with you?"

Seeing Ian's expression, Artoria grabs his hand, her face full of concern.

"Is it because you're uncomfortable bearing the gazes of everyone?"

"If so, I'm truly sorry!"

The irony is real.

But Artoria's worry is also genuine concern.

Ian feels a tumult of emotions in his heart and reluctantly shifts the conversation.

"Artorius, it's not like that."

"I just want to know how you plan to solve these problems—are you just going to ignore them?"

"Ah, speaking of that."

Artorius breathes a sigh of relief.

"Then Sir Ian can rest assured."

"I have enough countermeasures."

"As for the grain issue outside the city, a Magus named Merlin has promised to help me resolve it."

"And for the knights within the city—"

Her gaze shifts from Ian and immediately turns cold.

Amidst the gazes of the gathered people, she steps up to the stone platform where the sword had once been embedded.

She raises the sword in her hand and points it toward the deep blue sky.

"As for the knights' problems, they must be solved in a knightly way."

"So if any of you have objections to me—"

"Then use your own swords to challenge me."