When Sovell saw Artoria return, positively beaming, with a purple-haired young man in tow, he felt that the young man looked rather familiar.
Sovell stepped closer for a look.
"Lancelot?! You little brat, you're not dead!"
"Uh..."
Lancelot had never expected that, upon reuniting with the teacher he had not seen in years, those would be the first words to greet him.
"Ahem!"
Artoria cleared her throat twice in pointed warning. Only then did Sovell realize there was something wrong with what he had just said, and he hurriedly waved his hands.
"No, no, how are you still ali... bah! That's not right either! How was I supposed to put it?"
He seemed to be making more of a mess with every word.
"Teacher, it's been a long time."
Lancelot took control of the conversation.
"Oh, right! It certainly has. It's been a long time, Lancelot."
Looking at the handsome young man before him, now half a head taller than himself, and the air of melancholy he exuded, Sovell had a realization.
His prediction from ten years ago had really come true.
This brat was definitely going to become the dream man of countless girls!
"All right, don't just stand around here. Sir Lancelot, Sovell, sit down and talk."
As she spoke, Artoria waved a hand, signaling for the Magecraft Dolls to bring over seats.
To be fair, Artoria herself was puzzled.
She had been leisurely mowing down the enemy amid a crowd of foreign foes, almost ready to break through their formation, when Lancelot suddenly charged in.
After the battle, she had seen the admiration for her filling Lancelot's eyes. Since he was also the son of her late friend, she had brought him straight back to Camelot.
Thinking about it now, there were quite a few mysteries surrounding