Aslan lifted the piece of metal from the water. Under the light of the stars and aurora, the golden surface shimmered with a hauntingly gorgeous sheen. Blue streaks ran along its form, fairy script carved deep into its surface. At first glance, it appeared to be an oversized shield.
But it wasn't a shield.
Aslan stared, eyes wide, jaw slack with disbelief. Was this—was this actually Avalon, the [Distant Utopia]?! The legendary scabbard?! Why was this here, of all places, and now, of all times?!
Sure, it was known that Avalon was lost due to Morgan's schemes, but… wasn't that after Arthur turned against his own foster father?
Why was Avalon already missing before the White Dragon was even defeated?
Aslan was so shaken that his magic surged wildly, spilling out like a burst dam. It reminded him of when he first came into contact with magic—how uncontainable it had felt then. But this time, it wasn't inexperience. It was sheer, overwhelming shock that caused him to release his control.
As previously mentioned, Aslan has an inexplicable affinity for weapons—especially powerful, spiritual ones. And the Avalon in his hand? It was practically begging to bond. A relic of immense power and, crucially, without a current owner.
As it began to form a connection with him, glowing faintly with golden light, Aslan glanced down at the Sword of Brilliant Victory at his waist. Would it be so wrong to let his sword use this divine scabbard? The one it currently had was far too ceremonial in comparison.
…But then, wouldn't that mean the Sword of Brilliant Victory was now dating the ex of the Sword of Contractual Victory?
Was this fate's way of saying: You stole my place in history—now I'm stealing your "place"?
No, no, no—now's not the time to be making dumb jokes!
If this scabbard is with me, that means Altria doesn't have it. And if she doesn't have Avalon, she's not in peak condition! Back then, when she struck down her father, she had the Holy Spear, the Holy Sword, and Avalon all together. That's what gave her the edge.
So without Avalon, how is she supposed to kill that bastard father of hers?
If the White Dragon wins... If Vortigern lives...
That would change everything. No way. Aslan refused to live in a timeline where a single trip to the grocer might end with the news: King Arthur has died in battle.
He'd be too heartbroken to even cry.
As for why Avalon ended up here? Well, Aslan was partly to blame.
After Aslan became the first thief to successfully rob Camelot of its treasures, Agaguiwen (likely Agravain) tightened internal security. The entire city shifted toward stricter order and surveillance. This made Morgan increasingly desperate. Her unstable fusion of personalities caused her thoughts to oscillate wildly—sometimes gentle and sentimental, other times consumed by jealousy.
Driven by envy, Morgan made a move.
Originally, this was a plan she'd intended to carry out after Vortigern's defeat, once Artoria had begun to rise in esteem and power. But the increasing discipline in Camelot forced her hand early.
During a routine hunting expedition to restock food for the capital, Artoria and the Knights of the Round Table left the city. Morgan saw her chance.
Despite Camelot's new security, Morgan still had spies. It wasn't easy to get updates, but she had enough.
Artoria, separated from her group while chasing an elk, spent the night drifting on a boat—only to awaken the next morning in a cage, her sacred sword missing.
Nearby stood a miniature colosseum, inspired by Rome. Morgan, unable to act directly due to interference from her purer half, manipulated events behind the scenes.
Artoria was made to duel, armed with a fake Sword of Contractual Victory, while the real one was given to her opponent. As wounds accumulated on her body, only Avalon kept her from collapsing.
But a lake fairy, watching from afar, returned the real sword at the last moment. Artoria rallied and won.
Morgan was furious when she learned her adopted sister had survived, yet strangely relieved as well—though she couldn't explain why.
That night, she turned into a crow and flew into Artoria's room, watching the sleeping girl with a tormented expression. A voice within her urged caution. Torn between rage and sentiment, she ultimately acted through misdirection.
She reached for the sword, but in her haste and confusion, grabbed the scabbard instead. As she yanked it away, the sword and scabbard separated.
In a moment of twisted fate, she flung Avalon into the river.
Then, turning to stone, she hid herself to avoid detection.
From that moment on, Artoria's feelings toward her sister began to shift. What kind of sister would go to such lengths to torment her younger sibling?
But there was no time to ponder it further.
Because Merlin came to deliver a message:
Vortigern was preparing to move.