When Kay kicked open the heavy door to the castle kitchen, dozens of royal chefs—busy preparing the queen's dinner—jumped in alarm and hurriedly cleared a path.
At the center stood the head chef, arrogantly folding his arms behind his back and wearing an ornate silk apron. His protruding belly jiggled as he blocked Kay's path.
"Wha-what is the meaning of this outrage?! How dare some bandit-like thug barge into the sacred royal kitchen! Guards! What are those guards outside doing?!"
"The guards are fast asleep outside. I knocked them out. So quit the noise and move aside—I don't have all day."
Kay lightly lifted the sputtering head chef by the scruff of his neck as if he were a feather, tossed him onto a sack of potatoes in the corner, and staked his claim in front of the largest central cooking counter.
In his hands were top-quality ingredients he'd acquired en route, along with fresh seafood he'd bulk-bought from the fish market on his way to the castle.
"Hey, you savagelike brute who looks more suited to slaughtering livestock than wielding a knife! How dare you ruin the feast for His Great Majesty the [Lion King]! His palate is insanely picky—do you really think he'd touch anything you whip up?!"
The head chef flailed atop the potato sack, cursing and squirming, while the other cooks trembled at Kay's rough appearance and the fearsome golden axe strapped to his back, whispering among themselves.
But Kay let their criticisms slide into one ear and out the other, rolled up his sleeves, and grabbed his chef's knives in both hands.
"Sure, he's picky. But don't act like you can do any better. The last guy must've been so bad even the bones were all that was left. Alright, let's see if I still have my touch after five years."
rat-a-tat-tat!!CLANG!chop!
As soon as Kay's hands began to move, the snickers and disdain that had filled the kitchen snapped shut as if doused with ice water.
It was less like cooking and more like flawless martial art.
A massive fresh salmon, just hauled in from the shore, floated in midair as Kay's blade traced a shimmering silver arc through it.
Before it even hit the counter, bone and innards had been cleanly separated, and the thick fillets were sliced into uniform, paper-thin sheets, landing on the plate like petals.
He then sprinkled lemon juice and a special blend of herbs brought from the [Abyssal Realm] onto it, finishing the salmon carpaccio salad in an instant.
"Unbelievable... Is that even human handiwork?"
The chefs' jaws dropped—but they were too late to be surprised.
Kay was single-handedly working on a whopping ten dishes at once.
In one cauldron, a colossal red-shelled lobster plunged into boiling water, filling the air with a nutty aroma, and Kay used that stock as a base to stir together a rich, premium lobster bisque soup.
At the same time, he kneaded dough of flour and his secret spice blend with another hand, expertly stripped bones from high-quality chicken to create boneless pieces, coated them in batter, and threw them into a vat of scalding oil.
With the popping crackle of hot oil, the golden, crispy boneless chicken began to fry.
The centerpiece, of course, was the meat.
Kay took a premium beef tenderloin, cut it into thick slices, and tossed it into a scorching cast-iron skillet with a mountain of garlic and butter.
Sizzle!!
With that brutal sound, the meat's surface crisped in a perfect sear, sealing in the juices. Even his footwork wasn't wasted—he kicked logs into the hearth to maintain the flame's perfect temperature as he cooked.
"My word... How on earth does someone move like that...?"
It was an overwhelmingly advanced cooking method that medieval chefs in Britain—who were already centuries behind—could not even fathom.
The kitchen instantly filled with the sharp scent of garlic, the sweet aroma of butter, the briny flavor of seafood, and the dense meaty fragrance of charcoal-grilled steak.
Without realizing it, the very cooks who had been criticizing now found their mouths watering.
"...What is all this commotion?"
At that moment, the kitchen entrance doors burst open as if shattered, and a cold, overwhelming presence swept in.
Heavy plate armor gleamed in silver. A helmet shaped like a lion's mane.
It was Artoria Lancer, ruler of North Wales, wielding [Rhongomyniad].
Behind her strode the recently revived commander of the knights and dozens of royal guards, spears at the ready, marching in stifled shouts.
"Your Majesty! That mad fraud has illicitly seized the royal kitchen and is ruining the feast! We must have him beheaded immediately...!"
"..."
But Lancer didn't so much as blink at the commander's outcry.
Her emerald gaze remained fixed solely on the broad back of the man at the counter, humming softly as he plated a steak.
He'd grown far larger than five years ago, but that nonchalant turn of the skillet matched perfectly with the silhouette of the brother etched in her soul.
And above all, that unbearably nostalgic scent filling the kitchen.
"Ah, you arrived just in time. Sit down—you need to eat before it gets cold."
Kay wiped the sweat from his brow, turned around, and gave Lancer a wry smile.
On the table, ten lavish dishes—salmon carpaccio salad, lobster bisque, garlic steak, boneless fried chicken, mushroom cream risotto, and more—were set before them, each sending up plumes of steam.
"This... is really...?"
Lancer's voice quavered pitifully from beneath her helmet.
The knight commander hurried forward, positioning himself between Kay and Lancer.
"Your Majesty! You can't eat that! It's made by a barbarian whose origins we don't even know. It must be poisoned... I'll test it first!"
"Step aside."
"Bu-but, Your Majesty...!"
"Do not lay a finger on my brother's cooking!!"
Lancer's roar reverberated through the kitchen like a lion's. The overwhelming wave of magical energy sent the knight commander flying sideways to the floor.
With trembling hands, Lancer released the latch on her helmet.
The heavy helmet clanged onto the floor, revealing the beautiful blonde woman within.
She looked far more mature and statuesque than five years ago, but her emerald eyes still held the youthful shadow of the girl who'd mourned her lost brother.
Entranced, she stepped toward the table and gripped a fork.
Then, the first thing she did was spear a piece of garlic steak drenched in deep brown sauce and lift it to her lips.
Nom... nom.
The moment she bit into the meat.
Juices exploded in her mouth, and the sharp kick of garlic struck her tongue.
It felt as though that once-frozen heart of the [Lion King], honed on countless battlefields, was starting to warm with hot blood again.
This was the taste.
The excruciating hunger of the past five years—no matter how much gold was spent on hired chefs or exotic delicacies—had never been sated. Yet this single bite perfectly filled that void: the inimitable taste of family.
"sob... sob..."
The fork clattered to the floor.
Lancer covered her face with both hands and burst into tears. All regal dignity and the pride of the [Lion King] crumbled away.
She'd simply reverted to the young sister of five years ago, wailing at the brink of the abyss after losing her brother.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Brother...! Because of me, I couldn't protect you... sob!"
Kay gave a bitter smile and quietly approached.
Then he spread his arms and gently embraced the towering queen in silver armor—his little sister.
"It's okay. I'm sorry I took so long to come. You've grown so much, my Lancer. You've truly become a remarkable queen now."
The tremor he felt through her armor pierced Kay's heart. He slowly ran his hand through her blonde hair and waited in silence until she calmed down.
The knights and chefs watching the scene were stunned into silence at the sight of their once-icy [Lion King] breaking down in sobs.
After the torrent of tears subsided.
With the rest of the kitchen staff sent outside, only Kay, Lancer, and three Servants who had arrived late filled the table in the kitchen.
Lancer, eyes still puffy, devoured ten servings of the feast at incredible speed as she listened to Kay's story of the past five years.
Merlin's betrayal, survival in the [Abyssal Realm], the hellish training under Scáthach, and the camaraderie of his dependable Servants.
"...That damned Nightmare fiend… how dare he harm my brother."
Having heard the full story, Lancer's eyes chilled. The silver knife in her hand bent like taffy under her grip.
"I'll dispatch the army at once and rip out that bastard's tongue and throat. With my spear [Rhongomyniad], I'll erase him without a trace."
"Whoa, whoa, calm down. You'll lose your appetite. I'll settle the score with that damned Nightmare fiend myself later, so hang in there."
Kay replaced her bent knife with a new one and tentatively asked the question he most wanted to hear an answer to, yet dreaded to ask.
"More importantly, what happened to the rest of you? I heard you sisters scattered to the winds. Was it really all Merlin's doing?"
At that question, Lancer froze her fork in midair.
She lowered her head heavily. Silence stretched on.
"...It wasn't just Merlin's doing. Well, since he was the mastermind who sent Brother to that other realm, he did cause this,"
Lancer spoke in a bitter, shuddering voice.
"It was our lack of faith and patience."
She began recounting the dreadful chaos that unfolded immediately after Kay disappeared five years ago.
"When we heard Brother had fallen off the cliff into the sea with the demonic beasts, we searched the shore like maniacs. Not a single bloodstained scrap of cloth turned up, and Artoria Alter—always hot-headed—grabbed her holy sword, ready to strike Merlin's neck on the spot. But..."
She swallowed hard and brought up the painful memory.
"Artoria and Lily stopped her. They said Merlin acts for the safety of Britain and must have had some reason or necessity beyond our understanding. And... since Brother Kay is a strong man, he must be alive somewhere, so we needed to carry on our royal duties."
Artoria's rational, kingly judgment.
But to her sisters on the verge of emotional collapse, it was like pouring oil on a burning fire.
"Artoria Alter flew into a rage at that. 'How dare you stick up for the one who hurt Brother, refuse to search for him, and carry on this kingly charade? If that's what you plan to do, I'll find Brother myself and take revenge,' she declared, sheathing her sword. Artoria Lancer Alter and Artoria X also sided with her. At that point, they said they could no longer stand together and went their separate ways."
A table without Kay. A cold journey without the warm meals he would prepare.
It was nothing short of hell for the sisters. No one could soothe each other's hearts, and with nothing but barbed words flying, distrust and resentment piled up like snowballs.
"By the time they reached Orkney and brought in Gareth and Gawain, the rift had become irreparable. Artoria X Alter was the first to vanish without a word, and Artoria Caster didn't stay much longer before leaving behind only a brief apology letter."
Lancer clenched both fists tightly.
"And I too... with Brother's warmth gone, trapped in that suffocating atmosphere of speaking only of royal duties like machines, could no longer endure. A journey without Brother meant nothing to me. So I left Artoria behind and made my home here in North Wales."
Lancer hung her head like a guilt-ridden criminal.
"In the end... once the only anchor that was Brother vanished, we crumbled like a sandcastle. It's embarrassing. We weren't as strong as we thought."
Kay listened in silence, his chest tightening with heaviness.
The fact that the family bonds he'd treasured and fought so hard to protect had been shattered into pieces by no one but himself ached him to his bones.
In the end, Merlin's judgment had been both wrong and right. Kay was not a burden to them, yet he was also their greatest weakness—the massive anchor that held them together.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't trust you either, Brother. For years I kept searching but found nothing. I wondered if you might have died. Every night in my dreams, I confronted you resenting me. I questioned whether my shortcomings caused your downfall. I agonized daily: was it really Merlin's doing, or was it a genuine accident?"
"...Don't blame yourselves like that. It wasn't your fault."
Kay patted Lancer on the shoulder.
"So, do you know where the others are and what they're doing now?"
"I don't know their exact locations. They're all so elusive. But..."
Lancer's expression suddenly grew grave.
"There's just one: I recently received word about Artoria Alter, and it's... not good."
"Artoria Alter? What happened to her?"
"Two days ago, through the intelligence network I set up, I received word: the mercenary band Alter led was utterly wiped out near Manchester... and Alter herself was captured and taken prisoner by the enemy."
"...What?! Alter was taken prisoner? She actually lost?! Was Vortigern himself involved?!"
Kay kicked his chair aside and leapt to his feet.
Although her speech was rough, Alter was arguably the strongest of the sisters in pure combat prowess. The idea that she could be defeated and captured was almost unimaginable.
"Who was the opponent?"
"It was a Saxon knight called Tacuin."
A look of deep caution flickered in Lancer's eyes.
"He is not a mere wielder of force. Even among the Saxons, he's known as something alien—a monster tied to the fairies. Although Alter's martial prowess—particularly her firepower—is unmatched among us, this Tacuin moves like the wind. It's believed she lost because of this elemental mismatch. As soon as I heard, I began rallying every soldier to plan a rescue operation."
"Tacuin..."
Kay clenched his teeth.
In an instant, Kay's gaze turned deadly. A chill of murderous intent, more terrifying than when he'd slaughtered hundreds of beasts in the [Abyssal Realm], flooded the kitchen.
"Perfect timing. I was getting itchy to move now that we're back in Britain."
Kay gripped the handle of the golden axe strapped to his back. The primal runes resonated faintly, emitting a crimson glow.
"Lancer. No need to gather troops. A large army will only slow us down—and risk alerting the enemy and endangering Alter."
"What? B-but Brother! The enemy is a Saxon elite force. No matter how strong you've become, to charge alone into their ranks—! I should go with you...!"
"You won't be alone."
Kay smirked and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.
"I've got some pretty reliable... allies of my own now."
No sooner had Kay finished speaking than the three Servants who had been silently listening in a corner of the kitchen stepped forward with grins.
"Oh my, our dear sister-in-law has been abducted by barbarians, and we can't just stand here primping! Tamamo is ready for deployment!"
Tamamo conjured a blue foxfire at her fingertips and gave a wink.
"I won't forgive anyone who harms my family. Prepare Pegasus, and let's depart immediately."
Medusa let the cold aura of her Mystic Eye flow from behind her blindfold as she spun her chain dagger.
"Hmph. So it's Alter? The one they say looks just like me? It's unnerving... But to think someone with my face is locked up behind bars and humiliated—I can't tolerate it. Let's burn it all to ashes, Master."
Jeanne d'Arc Alter slung her ebony banner over her shoulder and laughed wickedly.
Lancer's eyes went wide at the sight of the three unfamiliar women who had suddenly appeared.
"Brother... who on earth are these women...? Sister-in-law?!"
"Ah, we'll get to introductions later. If they start talking, it never ends."
Kay clasped his sister's hand tightly—the first time in five years. Through her cold gauntlet, he felt the warmth of her grasp.
"I'll be back soon."
Without hesitation, Kay decided to go rescue Alter, who was in dire need.
Because Pegasus can't carry many, only Medusa and Kay would ride it, while the other two would be summoned to the manse.
Scáthach's manse created in the [Abyssal Realm] could absorb ambient mana and the earth's power naturally, allowing it to regenerate more than one glyph per day.
"Hold on, Alter. Brother's coming."