"Well, well, this woman has come too. She's a terrifying one I'm no match for her."
Standing in a corner of the victory banquet, the white-haired old swindler Merlin, who had been busy teasing the maids, glanced outside the castle before hurriedly withdrawing his gaze.
Better not provoke her…
That woman is still someone I can't afford to mess with.
As long as she didn't start killing people, he'd pretend he hadn't noticed anything.
That's what Merlin decided in his heart.
Then, with his usual grin back in place, he grabbed the hand of a nearby maid and said, "Did you know? In Camelot, we have a way of reading a person's destiny through palmistry! Here, let me take a look!"
...
After the feast, those who needed rest went off to do so.
Guinevere had wanted to speak with Artoria a little longer, but the latter had already slipped away, leaving the former disappointed.
Meanwhile, Morgan and Lot, rather than retiring, made their way to a secluded spot in the castle.
Discussing matters in the guest chambers would only invite eavesdroppers who knew what kind of devices might be planted there?
Out here, however, Morgan was confident that with her magecraft, no one would be able to overhear her conversation with her Husband.
"Alright, Lot, how do you suggest we maintain control over Scotland?" Morgan asked in a probing tone.
Lot adopted a thoughtful expression.
[Hmm… The only way is to resort to shameless tactics.]
Good. I love shameless tactics.
The more, the better.
I'm looking forward to this.
Hearing Lot's inner thoughts, Morgan smirked to herself.
Her current moral compass…
Was about as unpredictable as her little sister's appetite.
Now, hearing Lot propose shameless tactics, Morgan was very intrigued.
"Morgan, we need to define our position clearly. Until we've completely defeated Vortigern, our approach to Scottish affairs must remain above the fray." Lot raised a finger as he spoke.
"Be more specific," Morgan retorted impatiently.
"We shouldn't involve ourselves directly. Instead, we should play the role of… a troublemaker."
"Ugh! You're disgusting." Morgan wrinkled her nose in distaste.
"You asked me to elaborate," Lot said, shrugging.
Then, he continued explaining his plan.
In short, it was the "Splendid Isolation" policy later employed by Britain.
Lot's greatest advantage from his past life wasn't material knowledge it was the accumulation of ideas spanning thousands of years.
These ideas allowed him to find solutions to nearly any problem he encountered.
In his previous life, he'd even been a knowledge-based content creator, skilled in spinning elaborate theories and pulling out all sorts of obscure facts at will.
Given Scotland's current situation, Lot felt that Britain's historical policy toward continental Europe was a perfect fit.
Camelot wasn't yet in a position to directly annex Scottish territory.
So, the next best thing was to keep Scotland divided, preventing it from unifying under a single power.
Behind the scenes, they could incite the second-strongest faction to challenge the dominant one, plunging the region into civil war.
And with their new weapons as leverage, they could even tip the scales if the underdog struggled too much.
After all, nobody needed to know they were already running low on supplies.
The goal was simple: let Scotland tear itself apart. Then, once Camelot dealt with the "King of the Wild Hunt" and unified England and Wales, their overwhelming strength would make conquering Scotland inevitable.
The brilliance of this plan lay in the fact that even if someone saw through it, there'd be nothing they could do.
The bitter rivalries between Scotland's factions would ensure lasting enmity easily manipulated to keep them at each other's throats.
The only thing Lot regretted was Camelot's lack of steel production.
If they could ramp that up, they could even sell weapons to both sides.
They'd be the ones fueling the conflict, and the Scots would thank them for it.
[Heh. As expected of me.]
Having finished explaining his scheme to Morgan, Lot couldn't help but preen inwardly.
Watching his self-satisfaction, Morgan didn't know whether to laugh or sigh.
"That shameless look… We really do make a perfect couple."
That's what she thought to herself.
The two exchanged a glance, sharing a smile of mutual understanding.
But just as Lot was about to tease Morgan further, a slow clap echoed through the air.
"Impressive. That plan is as ruthless as it is effective."
A woman's voice reached their ears.
Morgan and Lot both stiffened especially Morgan.
"I did set up a bounded field…!" she muttered in disbelief.
"Indeed, your magecraft is quite skilled. But my runes are simply superior."
From the shadows emerged a purple-haired woman, her movements so graceful that even the most refined noblewomen of the court couldn't compare.
Yet…
The crimson spear in her hand made it clear she was no delicate aristocrat.
At the sight of that beautiful face, Morgan frowned in confusion while Lot sucked in a sharp breath.
This was a face he'd seen countless times in his past life
In games, fan comics, animations, even cosplays.
But the aura she exuded now was something no digital screen could ever convey.
An overwhelming pressure bore down on them.
[Oh no, oh no…]
[They say the gods are always watching should've kept my mouth shut!]
[Earlier, Morgan just hinted at something, and now this purple-haired old er, young woman shows up!]
[What do we do!?]
[She's killed gods before! Morgan and I together wouldn't stand a chance!]
[If it comes to it… I'll take responsibility.]
Now, Morgan realized who this woman was.
Scáthach, the Queen of the Land of Shadows.
Her face paled.
She wasn't her match.
At least, not yet.
Lot stepped forward, shielding Morgan behind him, and spoke:
"Queen of the Land of Shadows… May I ask why you've sought us out?"
"Nothing much. I simply found your earlier conversation… fascinating. I'd like to verify its authenticity."
Scáthach smiled.
And at that smile, Lot and Morgan shared the exact same thought:
[Just ask your questions why are you brandishing that spear!?]