In the World of Type-Moon, Starting as Morgan's Husband

[The Briton army arrived here.]

[They intended to launch a surprise attack on Vortigern under the cover of moonlight, but all they found was your body lying in a pool of blood.]

[You realized that Vortigern's grasp on the battlefield far exceeded your expectations.]

[But none of that mattered anymore—this was not something a dying man like you should concern yourself with. Your only regret was not fulfilling your duty to Morgan.]

[Talent "Heart of Desperation++" lost: Your assassination attempt on Vortigern has failed, and your will to survive has begun to wane.]

[Someone recognized you.]

"Isn't this one of the White Dragon King's lackeys?! How did he end up here?!"

"That doesn't matter! This guy killed so many of our knights; this is the fate he deserves!"

"Let's kill him now!"

"Wait! Sure, killing him would feel great, but someone of his rank should be interrogated later!"

At this moment, the knights were divided into two factions.

One wanted to kill you, while the other wanted to capture you.

But regardless of their stance, their words were filled with hatred for you.

Listening to your former comrades argue about your fate, your heart felt conflicted.

According to the contract, since you failed Morgan's mission, you had no right to return to her; you deserved to die here.

However—

You longed to see her one more time.

Even just one last glance.

Lying in the pool of blood, Ian closed his eyes in despair—he hated his own weakness.

[After a fierce debate, you were ultimately not killed on the spot—the knights agreed that there were a thousand ways to torture you after bringing you back.]

[Talent "Duel to the Death" lost: Your assassination has ended, and to prevent you from dying easily, the Briton knights provided you with the bare minimum of care.]

[Talent "Proxy++" lost: The sword bestowed upon you by Morgan was confiscated by the knights; you could no longer be mistaken for her. Someone recognized it as a Briton-made sword and offered it up to their superiors.]

[You were shackled with heavy chains, and every day people threw stones at you to express their contempt.]

[They wanted to know why you ended up in a pool of blood that night.]

"Speak!"

A knight roughly grabbed Ian's neck—not all knights were respectful, and some behaved like this.

Moreover, in their eyes, Ian had become an enemy of all knights.

He had already taken many lives.

"What exactly happened that night?!"

Faced with the knight's roar, the shackled Ian simply stared at him silently.

And with just that glance, the shouting knight's hand trembled—he was scared.

Before him stood the deadliest blade under Vortigern's command.

Had Ian not been found lying in that pool of blood, this confrontation would never have happened.

Even a beast trapped in a cage still has sharp claws.

But at that moment, Ian calmly spoke.

"Don't be afraid, I won't harm you."

"But... stop asking me these questions. You won't get any answers from me."

Despite being his enemy, the knight felt a rare sense of friendliness from Ian.

He almost felt as if they should have been on the same side.

[You decided to keep all of Morgan's secrets. You swore never to let anyone know that this was all an elaborate scheme she had designed to impress King Uther.]

[You were willing to pay any price to let these secrets sink into the depths.]

[You no longer reacted to the stones thrown at your face, nor did you answer any of the knights' questions.]

[To them, you became like a stubborn stone statue, and they could not fathom what Vortigern had done to make you so resolute.]

[But only you knew that your silence was not for Vortigern, but for the princess to whom you had sworn loyalty.]

[And this misunderstanding was not bad for you—so long as everyone associated you with Vortigern, no one would ever think of Morgan.]

[Within a few days, the knights came to see you as a monster too deeply influenced by Vortigern. They gave up trying to interrogate you and awaited further orders.]

[You accepted this fate without complaint.]

[At the end of misfortune, fortune always awaits.]

[A rumor from Vortigern's camp spread and reached the Briton army.]

Several knights gathered together to discuss the widely circulated rumor.

"Did you hear? The reason Vortigern withdrew his troops overnight was because of the princess!"

"What... what's the story?"

"It's probably true, right? I heard that she infiltrated the camp alone and even wounded Vortigern!"

"That incredible? No wonder she's the princess! I don't know why our king pulled her from the front lines. If she were here, we'd be unbeatable!"

"Yeah… though maybe the king was just worried about her getting hurt. After all, if nothing goes wrong, she's going to inherit Britannia."

"A brave new ruler? That's exciting! Vortigern must have retreated out of fear!"

"Sounds about right. If only we could relay our thoughts to the king."

Listening to the knights' conversation, Ian felt a moment of joy.

The magic Morgan had cast on the sword had worked—your infiltration into the enemy camp had been mistaken as her doing.

In the eyes of these clueless knights, Morgan had already built a reputation as a brave and valiant warrior.

If only every knight could hear these rumors, perhaps…

Wait.

Ian suddenly realized something.

Vortigern didn't mistake him for Morgan!

Could it be that he…

[You realized Vortigern's plan—he knew the truth and wanted to spread rumors among the Briton knights, making it likely that Morgan would return to the front lines.]

[And this time, Vortigern wouldn't give her any chance. Under his command, the only path awaiting the Briton army would be complete annihilation.]

[You knew you couldn't sit by idly—you could endure any humiliation yourself, but you would never allow Morgan's safety to be jeopardized.]

[The silent Ian in the eyes of the Briton knights began to roar.]

[Talent "Affinity to Evil" activated: Your near-crazed behavior caught everyone's attention. Every knight present knew you wanted to see the princess.]

[And this news spread through the Briton army with unimaginable speed.]