What shocked them was who was fighting.
On one side were several dinosaurs.
Ancient creatures long extinct in Proper Human History. Once the rulers of the planet for hundreds of millions of years, they had vanished entirely sixty-five million years ago.
And yet here they were before Morgan and the others, though something about them was wrong. They exuded a faint, corpse-like aura. They moved like walking dead.
Almost like Dead Apostles.
Most likely aberrations born from the Lostbelt's unusual environment.
But the real issue was their opponent.
A boy who, though clearly struggling, held his own against Dead Apostle dinosaurs several times his size.
No.
Calling him a boy was generous.
He looked four or five years old at most, yet he fought with startling skill.
And perhaps it wasn't so surprising that he was this good.
"Wait… Primordial Runes?" Scáthach froze.
Morgan covered her mouth. "How is that possible…"
Before she could finish, a large-scale Rune Magecraft detonated. The Dead Apostle dinosaurs collapsed one after another, their movements ceasing as they became nothing more than lifeless carcasses.
The child lowered his hands and panted lightly.
His oversized clothes dragged at his limbs, but he had still managed to take down the monsters.
He tugged at his sleeves, rolling them up to reveal small, childish arms, then stepped on the hems of his trousers to free himself and stood up properly.
Before he could even inspect the dinosaur corpses, he spotted Morgan and the others.
His expression immediately turned awkward.
"Uh… well…" His voice was childish, but the tone was unmistakably familiar.
"Your body may have shrunk, but the color of your soul hasn't changed." Morgan stepped forward, crouched, and picked him up in one smooth motion. "Explain."
The child in her arms was none other than Tenkei Shiomi.
"Before I explain… I should apologize." Shiomi scratched his cheek, looking uneasy. "I broke my promise again. You probably won't believe me anymore."
"That's true. If it's a vow to live and die together, I can only believe the 'live together' part now." Morgan looked at him, a faint, pleased smile curving her lips. "Whenever disaster strikes, my husband pushes me to safety and faces danger alone. That bad habit of yours won't change."
"…From a practical standpoint, it really is the safer option," Shiomi sighed helplessly. "Just looking at me like this should tell you how troublesome things got."
"Mm."
Morgan's response was casual.
Shiomi found that strange and looked up, only to see that the one holding him in her arms was desperately suppressing a smile.
"Hm?"
He was happy to see her again, of course.
All things considered, they were both safe. He had escaped danger and reunited with them while searching for Storm Border. That alone was fortunate.
But Morgan's joy seemed to come from somewhere else entirely.
"Normally, I'd make you sit properly and give a thorough explanation of your behavior." Morgan tightened her hold and rubbed her cheek against his mud-streaked face. "But right now… I can't help myself. My husband is just too adorable like this. So I'll accept your apology~~"
By the end, her voice had grown light and airy, completely different from the tension and anxiety she had shown earlier.
Seeing her like this, Shiomi let out a quiet breath and allowed himself to be held and fussed over.
"…But I'm covered in dirt," he protested weakly. "You'll get your clothes dirty too."
"It's fine. It's not poisonous, just mud." Morgan's eyes shone with undisguised delight. "Children are supposed to be a little messy."
"I only shrank physically. My mind and soul haven't changed," Shiomi said with a strained laugh.
"It's fine, it's fine…"
Morgan herself couldn't quite explain what she was feeling.
She had never seen Shiomi as a child. They had never truly had children together. There had never been a way for her to glimpse what he might have looked like at that age.
When Nüwa created him, she must have chosen the form of a nineteen- or twenty-year-old.
After thousands of years, that appearance had never changed. Like the fairies of the paradise, he possessed a near-immortal lifespan.
And yet now, in the midst of disaster, she found herself quietly delighted to see this fleeting version of him that had never existed.
Just as he had once cherished her when she was fifteen, she now understood how he must have felt then.
"Ah, but first we should head back—"
Morgan's tone was so light it didn't match the urgency of their situation.
Before she could finish, someone tapped her shoulder.
She turned to see Scáthach clearing her throat pointedly, hand extended.
"Monopolizing him like that is a bit much." Scáthach narrowed her eyes. "You've held him long enough. Now it's my turn."
Morgan had nearly forgotten she was out here with Scáthach and Artoria, searching for Shiomi.
"Quite right." Artoria nodded solemnly. "Even if he is your husband, keeping him to yourself is greedy."
She reached out naturally to take Shiomi from Morgan's arms.
Morgan almost handed him over out of reflex.
Then she snapped back to herself and pulled him close again, hugging him tightly.
"No. I've only had a few minutes. Let me hold him a bit longer. What if he changes back soon?"
"That's exactly why I should hold him first," Scáthach said. "Of all my disciples, my beloved disciple surprises me the most. I need to properly dote on him in this state."
"Tenkei just went through a major battle. He needs rest." Artoria spoke seriously. "I should take care of him."
And just like that, the three of them began a thoroughly undignified tug-of-war over Shiomi.
This was something he had never experienced before.
He felt tired just looking at them.
"My husband is not a child. His mind hasn't changed. He doesn't need you doting on him," Morgan protested.
"Tenkei once said nothing heals the heart like a soft embrace. In that regard, I excel." Artoria declared with complete seriousness, spouting nonsense.
Scáthach clicked her tongue. "My beloved disciple has always appreciated the feel of my silk. Letting him rest in my arms is the wisest course. He just used Rune Magecraft. That means he needs my care."
Each of them grew more unreasonable than the last.
But the message was the same.
They wanted to hold him.
The ability to easily scoop him up and knead him in their arms was simply too tempting. They had long since forgotten about maintaining composure in public.
"So," Morgan said at last, turning her gaze down to him, "who do you want to hold you, my husband?"
It was a lethal question.
"…Anyone is fine. Anyone is fine…"
Shiomi averted his eyes guiltily, unable to give a clear answer.