After the summoning ceremony ended, Shiomi carried Sakura back to her room to sleep.
Though she was already seven, Shiomi wasn't a strict parent, and Sakura had grown a bit spoiled because of it. He had to scoop her up and tuck her into bed himself.
Fortunately, just experiencing the overwhelming surge of magical energy during the ritual had exhausted her. The pressure alone was enough to drain her completely—she didn't even have the energy to ask for a Norse mythology bedtime story before falling fast asleep.
Once he confirmed both Sakura and Caren were sound asleep, Shiomi stepped back out.
After the ritual concluded, Berserker—Morgan—had returned to spiritual form. With the summoning now stabilized, he could feel the bond between Master and Servant had properly formed, the mana flow between them fully established.
Following that connection, Shiomi found Morgan in his study.
She had already materialized, lounging on the sofa with a book in hand, idly flipping through its pages.
"You're even less like a Magus than I expected," Morgan remarked without looking up.
Shiomi shrugged casually. "To a Magus from the Age of Gods, modern Magi like us probably don't even register. I bet the only one who'd catch your attention is the King of Magecraft—the one who built the entire Magus system from the ground up, right?"
"That wasn't sarcasm," Morgan said, closing the book and raising her gaze to him. "There's too much warmth in you for a Magus."
Most Magi, in pursuit of the path of Magecraft, gradually shed conventional human ethics and morality during their training, adopting a worldview and set of rules that stood completely apart from the mundane world.
"Come on… all I did was put a kid to bed. Isn't that a bit much praise?" Shiomi shook his head and sat down across from her.
Morgan lowered her eyes, almost musing to herself. "But thanks to that, I understand your personality a little better."
"A little better?"
Shiomi was taken aback. Then he recalled her odd behavior right after she materialized—those moments of silence, the curious reaction—and he gave her a cautious look.
Servants were avatars of Heroic Spirits, the highest-ranking familiars summoned only during the Holy Grail War. Their mysteries often transcended even the domain of Magecraft itself.
Drawn forth from the Throne of Heroes, they crossed time to descend into this era in response to a Magus's call.
The Holy Grail granted them enough era-appropriate knowledge to function in the modern world...
But it never included information about their Masters.
"I've been wondering ever since we introduced ourselves," Shiomi said. "You seemed a little... off when you saw me. Were you disappointed or something?"
What lay ahead was a brutal clash—seven Servants, each bound to a different Master, fighting to the death.
A true "war."
Which meant trust between Master and Servant was critical. Any misunderstanding or discord could prove fatal.
And Tenkei Shiomi had no intention of dying here.
That's why he chose to confront Morgan and clear the air before anything went sideways.
But Morgan's reaction was far from expected—she let out a low, amused laugh.
"…No, it's nothing. I was just a little surprised." Morgan raised her hand, palm facing up, as if she could hold Shiomi in her grasp. "If the one who summoned me were just a typical modern Magus, I wouldn't have thought much of it."
"Hm?" Shiomi looked mildly surprised.
"But I doubt the other Masters in this Holy Grail War realize it yet—one of their opponents wields Magecraft from the Age of Gods," Morgan said.
After the initial surprise, Shiomi relaxed.
"Impressive—you saw through the essence of what I am as a Magus." He stretched lazily. "If you can see that clearly, it'll make strategizing a lot easier moving forward."
Morgan maintained that distant, unreadable smile. She wasn't flattered by his praise, nor did she seem offended by his laid-back attitude.
"More importantly... what about you?" she asked.
"What do you mean?"
Shiomi had just been about to head back to his room to sleep, but the question made him sink back into the sofa.
"You don't seem very curious about my identity," Morgan pointed out.
Tenkei Shiomi had been surprised, sure, when the Berserker he summoned turned out not to be some legendary warrior famed for sheer might, but rather a Heroic Spirit more akin to a Magus. But beyond that, he hadn't dwelled on it.
"Well, how should I put this…" Shiomi crossed his arms with an awkward look. "I know how Servant classifications work in the Holy Grail War. A single Heroic Spirit can manifest under different classes depending on the side of their legend being drawn from. By all rights, the Fairy Queen Morgan should be best suited to the Caster class. But who knows? Maybe there's a reason I don't know about that allowed you to appear as a Berserker."
Shhh—
Morgan vanished into spirit form, then re-materialized right beside him on the sofa. Shiomi flinched, shoulders tensing up.
"Then explain it," Morgan said without turning to look at him. Her voice was calm, but a heavy pressure emanated from her, bearing down on him. "Judging by your reaction, it's not like you haven't thought about it."
Shiomi let out a hiss through his teeth. "Sigh... It's not much. I just know the King Arthur legends pretty well. I've told bedtime stories to those two kids—Arthurian tales, Greek myths, Norse myths, even a few from the Americas. I've told whatever I could. Can't exactly tell stories properly if I don't know them myself, right?"
"Oh?" Morgan kept probing.
"After all... the death of King Arthur, the breakup of the Round Table, the fall of Britain—all of that is tied to you, isn't it?"
Shiomi wasn't fond of bringing up people's past mistakes.
Especially when he wasn't sure how Morgan herself felt about those events. Was she proud? Bitter? Regretful?
"In any case, to cause that kind of outcome… having a little madness inside wouldn't be all that surprising, right?" He gave a sheepish smile.
Legends were legends. If Morgan, as a Servant, ever chose to betray him, he had countermeasures in place.
"That kind of flippant answer suits you," Morgan replied at last.
"Happy now? Let's leave it there."
Shiomi stood from the couch.
Having a stunning woman like Morgan so close made him feel more on edge than anything.
"Heading to the battlefield? Then bring me my magic lance," Morgan said, raising a hand. A weapon—part staff, part spear, part sword—leaned against a nearby chair.
"Wait a second—aren't I the Master here?" Shiomi stumbled, thinking he must've misheard.
"You are. So what?" Morgan responded coolly. "I offer you my strength to fight. In return, you should fulfill your duties as a Master. Mana alone isn't enough."
Then she stood.
"Have you decided who our first target will be?"
"Who said we're heading to battle already?" Shiomi twitched. "All seven Servants haven't even been summoned yet. It's not time. Don't get ahead of yourself."
"Then—"
Before she could finish, Shiomi waved a hand and walked out of the study.
"It's late. Get some rest. Do as you like, Morgan."
Morgan watched in mild surprise as her Master disappeared beyond the door.
After a while, she returned to her seat and picked up the book she'd barely started: The Legend of King Arthur.
"This lazy, carefree demeanor... it's hard to believe he's the same 'tyrant' who waged that endless war against me for two thousand years."
The Fairy Queen's wistful murmur faded into the quiet of the study.
No one else heard it. And no one could answer what it meant.