What followed was the "bestowal of the authority to draw the sword" a ceremony.
Of course,
in truth, it was merely Morgan subtly using magecraft to enhance Artoria.
She was a masterful magus. Had Merlin been present, he would have noticed Morgan's actions.
But the current Artoria was still an inexperienced knight.
Thus, she remained unaware of the trickery.
After receiving Morgan's "ceremony," she only felt her body brimming with power.
Now, there is nothing left for me to fear.
"Good. You've been strengthened. Now go forth."
Having finished casting her magecraft, Morgan gently patted Artoria's shoulder, signaling her to proceed.
"As you command, Your Highness."
Artoria strode toward the Sword in the Stone,
her head held high.
Now, she felt as though she was not fighting alone.
The entire land of Britain, the ancestors of the Pendragon lineage all were watching over her.
With King Uther now gone, leaving only Her Highness Morgan as his sole descendant, some nobles sought to overthrow the Pendragon reign.
As a knight of the Round Table, I will never allow such a thing to happen.
I will protect Her Highness Morgan.
While the two exchanged these words, several others stepped forward to attempt drawing the sword.
Without exception, they all failed.
And then it was Artoria's turn.
The crowd watched, murmuring amongst themselves.
"Who is this youth?"
"Uncertain, but judging by his attire, he appears to be a knight."
"A knight so young… He must possess some skill."
"Yet even renowned knights before him have tried and failed. This boy won't succeed either."
"Indeed, I share the same thought."
"..."
Their words did not disturb Artoria's resolve.
She approached the Sword in the Stone.
Grasped its hilt.
A sensation of effortless ease washed over her.
With but a slight exertion, the blade would yield.
All of this… must be the doing of Her Highness Morgan.
For my liege.
Artoria's hands lifted
Up
The Sword in the Stone was drawn.
Clutching it with both hands, Artoria raised the sacred blade high,
proclaiming to all present:
This sword I have pulled it free.
The spectators froze.
As if their throats had been stepped on,
the once-noisy grounds fell deathly silent.
The Sword in the Stone…
Had been drawn?
How could this be?
This youth before them was but an ordinary knight.
By what right ?
It was as inconceivable as a succubus branded a harlot by all mounting a unicorn that only a pure maiden could ride.
Resentment swelled in their hearts.
Especially among the nobles.
They had believed this chance would fall to them that they might claim the throne of Camelot.
Yet now, this opportunity had been snatched away by some nameless boy.
Must we kneel and pledge fealty to this brat?
And then
A scene even more shocking unfolded before them.
Sword in hand, Artoria walked through the crowd
Straight toward Morgan.
At the sight of her,
the nobles who recognized her paled.
Why is she here?
What is happening?
Is this boy who drew the sword challenging Morgan?
No
What is he doing?
All watched as Artoria dropped to one knee,
raising the Sword in the Stone aloft.
"Your Highness, I have fulfilled my duty. I bring you the Sword in the Stone."
Morgan gave a faint nod.
"Good."
Yet she did not take the sword.
That old swindler Merlin had prepared this for Artoria.
Were she to interfere, who knew what consequences might follow?
"This sword now belongs to me."
A cryptic smile played upon Morgan's lips as she addressed the crowd.
"Come, Artoria. Follow me back."
"Yes."
Artoria sheathed the sword at her waist
and obediently trailed behind Morgan.
The witnesses took in the scene.
After such a spectacle,
their focus no longer lay on Artoria.
They now believed it was Morgan's machinations
that had allowed the sword to be drawn.
This explanation made far more sense.
The Pendragons were known for their cunning.
Compared to some unknown rookie knight succeeding,
this was far more plausible.
But why didn't Morgan draw it herself?
The nobles' expressions darkened.
She must be scheming something.
And the targets of her schemes…
Could only be us the nobles who oppose her ascension to Camelot's throne.
Danger.
Recalling the enigmatic smile Morgan had worn earlier,
a chill ran down their spines.
This woman… is terrifying.
Steamed buns, char siu bao, custard buns, sesame bean paste buns, pork buns, vegetable buns, soup dumplings…
Morgan was thoroughly pleased with Artoria's performance today.
And as a reward, she ensured her desires were fully satisfied.
A feast was laid out before her,
with three or four chefs from Orkney on standby.
Artoria was more than content with this reward.
Finally, a full meal.
And it's the Orkney cuisine invented by King Lot (Horndog) himself!
Bliss
True bliss.
"Eat slowly. No one's taking it from you."
Morgan's voice was affectionate as she watched Artoria devour the food.
After all, this was her beloved younger sister.
"Mmm-hmm…"
Artoria responded indistinctly, mouth full.
Morgan couldn't help but chuckle at her adorable demeanor.
My sister…
How well-behaved she is.
Her past rivalry for the throne had been entirely due to that old fraud Merlin's manipulations.
Once more, Morgan cursed the white-haired trickster in her heart.
Then, she addressed Artoria:
"Once you've eaten your fill, go rest. Remember though your teacher is a master magus, he has a twisted sense of humor."
"Hm?"
Artoria looked up, puzzled.
"Did you know? My father once said that there are times when not a single letter of Merlin's words should be trusted."
Morgan even invoked King Uther's authority to persuade her.
"Well… Teacher can indeed be a bit…"
Artoria replied awkwardly.
King Uther was her idol. She would never doubt his words.
Satisfied with her sister's reaction, Morgan continued:
"Once you return, no doubt he'll devise some new way to tease you. When that happens, simply refuse to believe him. That's all."