Tiamat, I'm Going to Find a Girlfriend! (Ending)

Before anyone could respond, Artoria dragged Ian away, running towards the other side of the courtyard. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the glistening corridor until they completely disappeared into the distance. "Is the King in such a hurry to punish that person?" the young soldier mumbled, but then he suddenly felt a chill. It was a gaze that looked as if it wanted to kill him. But when he turned his head, he found no one nearby. Huh? Come to think of it, there was someone else here a moment ago. Who was it...

On the other side, gripping Ian's hand, Artoria ran with him all the way. Closer. The girl rounded a corner. Here. The girl stopped in front of a thick, heavy door.

Creeak— She pushed the door, which swung open in a graceful quarter-circle. "Let's go inside!" Artoria said, then pulled Ian inside with her. The great door closed once more, and no one noticed a certain figure following them to the outside of it.

Inside the room, Artoria felt her heart pounding. A lone man. A lone woman. Together in one room. Just the two of them. Countless tags flashed through Artoria's mind, weaving together all sorts of strange scenarios. To be honest—if she hadn't become the King of Britain, she might have had a rather wonderful life. Just as the girl was lost in her wild thoughts, she felt a warmth. Ian had embraced her.

"Don't panic. I'm here." The first half of the boy's sentence warmed Artoria's heart. But the second half plunged her right back into an icy reality. "Artoria is the King of Britain." With just that one sentence, Artoria felt an unfathomable chasm appear between herself and Ian. Her lips parted, as if to say something. But in the end—only one sentence escaped.

"That's right. I am the King of Britain." "..." "Oh, right—" Artoria looked at him. "Why did you hit that person? Didn't you say you wouldn't bully people randomly? If you always do this, everyone will come to hate you." "Because some people said things I really disliked—" As Ian spoke, he seemed to heat up. "So, I acted. King, I am sorry." "Things you disliked...?" Artoria frowned slightly. "Yes. They were bad-mouthing Morgan," Ian recalled his encounter with Morgan on the streets of Camelot. "Very awful things—" "..."

Artoria's eyes widened. If she had been barely holding onto her reason before, then the moment she heard the name "Morgan," she felt she could no longer think rationally. "So, it was because of her that you were seen fighting?" "Yes." Artoria felt her head buzz. If her earlier declaration of "punishment" was just an excuse to get Ian alone with her, then now, she truly wanted to "punish" him. I came first... Meeting him, doing those things... I came first... I refuse to give him up like this... Artoria panted, one breath after another. She walked to the throne. This was a place only the King could reach, where she would one day receive the people of Camelot. That was why it was so quiet, with no one else around. But—why did she have to hear those words, here of all places? Why would he fight for her sister? All of that... shouldn't it have been mine? As Artoria thought this, her body sank onto the throne. "What you did was outrageous—I'm going to punish you, Ian."

Artoria removed her cape and placed it on the throne, as if laying down a blanket. The King's skirt armor fell to the floor. The secret belonging to Artoria, the one that would throw Britain into chaos if revealed, was displayed before Ian.

"Come here. Today... I won't let you leave until you've satisfied me," Artoria panted, her breath hot. "Absolutely not." Strange sounds echoed in the silent throne room. Artoria's hands gripped the armrests on either side of the throne. Although she had sounded so cool when she said she wouldn't let him leave, when it came to actually feeding him, it was another matter entirely. One touch and her defenses crumbled. Two and she was panting. Three and she was letting out low cries. The girl's legs trembled in the air. In that moment, she felt like she had returned to how they were when they first met. Only she knew him. Only she could have him.

"IAN—!" Artoria cried out, her eyes squeezed shut. Her hands came up to cup his head. In that instant, the girl's legs shot out straight. Then, she collapsed bonelessly onto the throne. "You seem very happy—" Ian said, standing up and looking at her. "No, I'm not," Artoria gasped. She clung to all her remaining reason and looked at him. "It was terrible. What you did was terrible! It was Morgan who made you like this, wasn't it?! Continue! I didn't say I was satisfied yet!" "..." "Okay. As long as the King deems it appropriate."

In that moment, the throne became a feeding ground for a dragon. More accurately, Artoria became the feeding ground. The rain had stopped in Camelot, but a new rain began to fall in the throne room. How many times could a girl lose all reason to extreme pleasure? Artoria didn't know. But she understood one thing. If she didn't do this, Ian would definitely go back to Morgan's side. But... I can't keep going on like this. Is there a way? A way to keep him by my side, openly and legitimately? A way to call him into a room with just the two of us, without any reason? Even if Morgan is right there, to do it anyway! Wait. There is. And haven't I already done it?

"Ian," she gasped, with the last of her reason. Her legs were held in his grasp, her eyes starry. "Ian—become my Knight of the Round Table. I... need you."

What Artoria didn't know was that her final whisper had been heard by Morgan, who was waiting outside the door. Amidst the sounds of feeding, she gripped her own arm. "Make him a Knight of the Round Table, will you?" she hissed to herself. "Artoria. You will definitely regret making this decision."

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