Though the two were doing their utmost to conceal themselves, to Morgan and Lot, they stood out like two sharks swimming through a river—utterly impossible to hide.
King Uther was, after all, Morgan's biological father and Lot's father-in-law.
How could they possibly fail to recognize him?
As for Merlin…
Have you ever seen anyone in all of Britain with white hair that long?
And that fluffy, voluminous style, no less.
What surprised Lot, however, was that one of Merlin's eyes had turned panda-like.
Had someone punched him?
Lot observed Merlin's state and couldn't help but think to himself.
Admittedly, seeing such a sight brought Morgan and Lot no small amount of satisfaction.
[Oh my, if it isn't Merlin? Haven't seen you in a few days—how'd you end up so pathetic?]
Lot even mimicked Merlin's tone in his mind, mocking him mercilessly.
Of course, both Lot and Morgan were also somewhat puzzled.
Why was he like this?
Who had hit him?
Turning these questions over in their minds, the two strode toward the pair.
As they approached, Merlin and King Uther were still in the bar, drinking. Merlin was busy flirting with the barmaid, his hand perilously close to swatting her backside. Meanwhile, Uther had disguised himself as an adventurer and was regaling other patrons with tales of his exploits.
"...Let me tell you, back in my youth, I fought alongside the brave and peerless King Uther, campaigning across the land. You know what? We even slew a dragon once..."
Morgan and Lot exchanged glances.
"Say, if you used magecraft to record this and later blackmailed him into naming you heir to Camelot, do you think it'd work?"
"I feel like… it's not entirely impossible."
Morgan watched as Uther boasted about single-handedly defeating an entire Roman legion and couldn't help but voice her uncertainty.
None of the listeners seemed to buy it. One even teased, "Then how come you're just an adventurer now?"
"Well, that's because—" Uther's gaze landed on Lot and Morgan, and he grinned. "I met the love of my life. Right, my dear daughter?"
"…Huh?"
Hearing this, both Morgan and Lot froze.
Wait, you're not even the slightest bit embarrassed?
Your daughter and son-in-law are standing right here, watching you!
[Did my father-in-law get hit by Merlin's magecraft or something?]
Morgan nodded in agreement.
"Hah, what's with those looks?" Uther strode up to Morgan and Lot, then turned back to his drinking buddies. "Come, let me introduce you—this is my daughter, and this handsome young man is my son-in-law. Tell me, aren't they a fine pair?"
The crowd burst into laughter.
Morgan, seemingly mortified, grabbed her father's arm and dragged him outside.
"Hey, I wasn't done drinking yet…"
Uther grumbled but obediently let himself be led away.
Meanwhile, Lot watched as Merlin's hand hovered a mere five centimeters from the barmaid's backside—and promptly seized his wrist.
"Oh dear, so close! I was just about to make contact," Merlin lamented, his face the picture of disappointment.
"Enough. Come with me. Unless you want your other eye punched to match?"
Merlin shrugged and followed Lot without protest.
As they walked, Lot couldn't resist asking, "By the way, what happened to your face? Who hit you?"
"What if I told you it was His Majesty? How would you react?"
"I'd only have one thing to say."
"And that is?"
"King Uther went too easy on you. If it were me, I'd have hit you much harder."
Lot's answer was brutally honest.
"Yikes."
Merlin shrugged, flashing his trademark wry smile.
Lot paid him no mind.
If Merlin actually cared about what others thought of him, dealing with him wouldn't be nearly so difficult.
A mage with no emotions and a degree of precognition was a terrifying opponent indeed.
Outside, Morgan crossed her arms and sighed at her father.
"Father, what are you doing? The great King Uther, skipping his duties to goof off in a tavern with the royal court's chief mage? Is this proper? Is it? Is it?"
Uther scratched his head sheepishly.
"Can't a man relax every now and then? I've fought wars my whole life—don't I deserve some fun?"
"You do, but… like this?"
Morgan was at a loss for words.
"Back when I was called the 'Great Dragon Head,' I used to do this all the time. After becoming king, I never got the chance. Today, the whole city's celebrating—why shouldn't I relive the good old days?"
Morgan had no rebuttal.
She was about to retort when she caught Lot's thoughts.
[My father-in-law… his body isn't as strong as it seems.]
Not as strong?
Morgan studied her father again.
He still looked robust.
But was he really just putting up a front?
Just then, Uther spoke.
"Morgan, go check on the banquet preparations at the palace. Make sure there are no mistakes."
"…Understood."
His words only reinforced Lot's assessment.
But to preserve her father's dignity, she nodded and complied.
As Morgan left, Uther turned his gaze to Merlin—and raised a fist.
Merlin instinctively touched his bruised eye.
"Should I… leave?"
"Yes."
Uther and Lot answered in unison.
With that, Merlin made his exit.
Now, only Lot and Uther remained.
"Come with me," Uther said.
"As you wish."
Lot already had an idea of what this was about.
The two moved to a secluded spot, where Uther cut straight to the point.
"My body can no longer bear the burden of ruling Britain."