"We couldn't care less if the enemy finds out."
At this moment, Morgan's face wore an expression of intellectual superiority.
Heh, I used to think the same way as you.
But then Lot explained it to me.
However, recalling the smug look on Lot's face when he told her, Morgan couldn't help but grit her teeth.
It wasn't something she overheard—he said it right to her face.
Morgan felt that if Lot had a tail back then, it would've been wagging arrogantly.
Now, though?
It's my turn to wag my tail.
"Let me ask you—what will these people do after they escape?" Morgan questioned Kay.
"They'll immediately report that our army has arrived here," Kay answered without hesitation.
"Correct. They'll inform the soldiers left behind in the castle," Morgan acknowledged.
Then, she continued, "Now, do you think those soldiers can defeat us?"
"Absolutely not," Artoria declared confidently from the side.
Kay pressed further, "But they can defend. If they barricade themselves in the castle, we'd have no choice but to lay siege."
In this era, especially in the West, siege tactics were woefully underdeveloped.
Capturing a castle required prolonged blockades—something anyone who'd played a certain Paradox Interactive Crusader Kings game would know well.
In this age, only Lot had some knowledge of siege engines.
But knowing about them didn't mean he could build them.
Expecting an isekai'd modern man to whip up trebuchets or battering rams from scratch was asking too much.
Under these circumstances, if the castle was prepared, storming it would be near impossible.
"But our goal was never the castles," Morgan said triumphantly. "Our target is Vortigern's army rushing back. In fact, if the castles fall too soon, it'd only hinder our next move."
If the castles were taken, Vortigern might think: Since they're already lost, why not keep pressing the assault on the Camelot? If we take it, we can turn around and crush the ambushing force later.
A base-trade scenario would heavily disadvantage Lot's forces.
The numerical difference between Vortigern's army and Lot's was like the ratio of air to chips in a bag of Lay's—
hopelessly lopsided.
But if the castles hadn't fallen yet?
Then Vortigern, whether to secure his rear or reassure his troops, had to rush back to reinforce them.
And that was when Lot and Uther's forces would strike together—like two slices of bread sandwiching cheese—crushing Vortigern decisively.
After Morgan's explanation, Kay and Artoria's faces filled with admiration.
"Then I'll drive those people north immediately," Kay said.
"Mhm."
Morgan nodded with a "you finally get it" expression.
She then had Kay and Artoria set to work.
Once the orders were given, Morgan turned to Lot.
[Damn, my wife really has no shame. That whole speech was my idea—word for word!]
Is the Horndog upset? Morgan mused inwardly, amused.
Fine, I'll humor him.
She walked over, took Lot's hand, and squeezed it.
"Hey, Lot… Was it okay for me to borrow your words like that?" she asked, feigning innocence.
Hearing this, Lot scratched his head sheepishly.
"Yeah, you nailed it."
"Then… shouldn't you reward me?" Morgan pressed.
[You plagiarized me and now you want a reward!?]
Lot's eyes widened.
"What kind of reward?" he asked cautiously.
"How about… this?"
Grinning, Morgan looped her arms around his neck and planted a firm kiss on his lips.
After pulling away, she glanced around—
No one had seen.
"Alright, reward claimed."
She smirked.
[Wait, that wasn't me rewarding her—that was her rewarding me!]
Of course, Horndog. Consider this compensation for stealing your idea.
Hand in hand, Morgan followed the troops, watching the fleeing villagers with regret.
"Lot… It's a shame we didn't bring more ships. If we had, we could've transported these people to Orkney."
Orkney's population had always been a pressing issue.
"Yeah, true," Lot agreed softly.
But these were forcibly relocated civilians—not a priority for him.
"Let's focus on the siege preparations," he said.
"Right."
Morgan nodded, then suddenly added, "Say… If we defeat Vortigern, do you think the nobles will accept me as Camelot's king?"
"Of course! My wife's amazing—why wouldn't they?" Lot chuckled, patting her shoulder.
But inwardly—
[Sigh… I doubt it, but she needs encouragement.]
Why? Morgan wondered.
[The old nobility won't accept a woman as ruler. They'd prefer a man.]
I know that. But you said my sister becomes king, right?
How did she manage it?
Morgan pondered the possibilities.
Did she disguise herself as a man?
Formed a knight order while cross-dressing?
Who is she?
[Also, Uther doesn't recognize Morgan's talent. He believes only Arthur, inheriting his Red Dragon bloodline, is fit to rule. For now, I'll encourage her. Once I'm stronger, I'll help Morgan claim her rightful place.]
Hearing this, Morgan's brow furrowed.
My own father values blood over ability?
Unacceptable. I'll prove him wrong.
And the Horndog believes in me so much…
I'll prove him right, too.