And after that brief daze, Iver saw a clear memory.
Compared to the earlier blurry, dreamlike memory from a first-person perspective, this one was in the third person. It was like a movie, complete with storyboards and camera movements.
It took place in a village square.
A young "Arthur," whom Iver found rather familiar, was standing on a stone platform with several Round Table Knights, speaking about something.
But at that moment, no one was paying attention to Arthur's speech.
Because an extraordinarily beautiful fairy had suddenly appeared among the crowd.
She wore nothing but a translucent black veil. Beneath the noonday sun, it concealed almost nothing.
She had long, alluring black hair and emerald-green eyes like tourmaline. One glance was enough to ensnare the mind, while her fair skin looked as delicious as cream.
The moment she appeared, she drew everyone's gaze. Even several Round Table Knights stared at her without blinking, completely entranced.
"Is she here to join us as well, Merlin?"
Gawain asked Merlin.
The reason for his question was simple—the woman was holding a sacred and exaggerated holy sword. The scabbard was fastened at her waist, while the hilt was positioned at the very center of her chest, almost completely hidden by soft flesh. Yet the sword seemed to make them tremble, filling them with movement. That was precisely the sight that held everyone's gaze.
The holy sword was so dazzling and magnificent that even Arthur widened his eyes.
Arthur, however, was not looking at the woman, but at the sword.
"...No." Merlin's expression darkened. "She should be a Lady of the Lake. I think she's here to cause trouble."
"My brave knightly lords."
The woman spoke in a soft, heart-trembling voice. "I am not a knight, nor do I wish to join you.
"As that