Chapter 22: The Beginning of the Royal Capital -3-

At last, our group left the cabin in the forests of Tintagel and finished making our full preparations to set out.

In the yard before the cabin stood the Servants with their baggage packed tight, along with Uncle Ector, who had come out to see us off.

"Arthur. This old man will pray for your fortune in battle every single day from Tintagel."

With tears glistening in the deep wrinkles around his eyes, Uncle Ector dropped to one knee before me.

I smiled and took his rough hand, pulling him back to his feet.

"Thanks for everything, Uncle. Later, when I build a grand castle, I'll give you the finest room in it, so stay healthy and wait for me."

At my words, Ector gave a faint smile. Then he patted Kay on the back.

"Kay, you may be my one and only hopeless son, but from now on you must serve Arthur with your life as his steadfast knight. Understood?"

Kay, who was leaving on an adventure while his father remained behind, scratched the back of his head awkwardly and grumbled.

"Ah, what's with the old man getting all sentimental first thing in the morning? Don't worry. I'm the only sane person around to clean up the disasters caused by this beast of a king who's got nothing but brute strength."

I gave Kay's shoulder a light smack and nodded.

After finishing our farewells, I swung myself up into the saddle of my beloved horse, Llamrei, whom I had led out from the stable.

Llamrei, who had grown up with me since she was a young foal, had before I knew it matured into a splendid steed.

With glossy black fur like polished night, and a mane and tail so white they were dazzling, she pawed the ground lightly as if responding to my mana and let out a spirited neigh.

Beside me, Artoria sat atop the Dun Stallion with the reins in hand, and Kay had mounted his own warhorse as well.

"Is everything ready?"

At my question, Artoria's emerald eyes sparkled as she flashed me a bright smile.

"Yes, Brother! We can leave at any time!"

Merlin and the peerless Servants formed up behind the mounted riders as if to guard them from the rear.

"By the way, Merlin, we're setting out for now, but where exactly would be the best destination?"

When I turned my horse and asked, Merlin, with her staff slung over her shoulder, answered with a smile.

"This region of Cornwall where we are now is a troublesome place if you want to gather forces right away. The political interests of the lords and nobles ruling it are tangled far too deeply. But if we head straight into mainland Wales next door, King Pellinore is already holding the line there, fighting fiercely against Vortigern's army."

Merlin continued, gesturing as though she were drawing a map in the air.

"What you need most right now is an overwhelming feat that will make your name known throughout all Britain. So rather than going where King Pellinore is, it'd be better to head farther north, into North Wales, where bandits are rampant and phantasmal species appear in droves. If you save the people there and prove your strength, volunteers will naturally flock to you like clouds."

North Wales was, without question, a land ruled by King Rience, who was on friendly terms with Vortigern.

And from what I'd heard, this King Rience was supposedly a descendant of Heracles. I was curious what kind of man he'd be.

"North Wales, huh. Fine, that's where we're going!"

With that bold declaration of mine, the curtain rose on the long journey toward becoming the true king of Britain.

We left the forests of Tintagel and marched north along an unpaved dirt road stretching ahead of us.

"Hey, Master! I hate walking, so don't I get a horse of my own?"

Nobunaga grumbled, using her matchlock as a walking stick.

"The losers who got beaten by alcohol and passed out yesterday can walk quietly. If you want to ride, go find yourself a horse. Besides, you can fly, can't you?"

At my joking taunt, Caenis, who had been walking behind us clutching her head, flinched and flushed red.

She still didn't seem to have fully recovered from the shock of waking up naked beside me this morning. Unable to meet my eyes, she only kept kicking random stones on the ground.

"Hmph... shut up! My head's pounding, so can we keep it down...?"

At Caenis's curt response, Ushiwakamaru and Stheno snickered. Looks like they'd seen her trying to run away.

Caenis really had been a hell of a lay. Poseidon definitely had good taste.

Normally I would've just fucked her and dumped her, but instead I'd given her all sorts of things.

"Between me and Poseidon, who do you like better? Huh?!"

"Ahhn, y-you, you're better! So hurry up, hurry up and cum already! More, I want to drink more of your mana!"

I was already looking forward to seeing Caenis challenge me to a rematch later and lose again.

That aside, my mana really did seem to have a mild intoxicating effect on others.

More precisely, not so much on ordinary people, but on those strongly mixed with mystery.

Like Merlin or Artoria, and especially Servants, who were mystery itself. At least, that was what Merlin had said.

Still, for a world whose roots were basically an eroge, it really was an extremely eroge-like setting.

From atop his horse, Kay pressed a hand to his forehead and let out a deep sigh.

"Haa... calling this a knight order is generous. It's more like a circus of monsters. The fact that I'm the only one here with any common sense makes my future crystal clear."

Kay caused trouble too, but he was still sane by comparison. If Bedivere, Agravain, and Galahad were upright men, then Kay was the more ordinary sort of human you could find anywhere.

Though in Britain, that still probably put him in the top one percent of normal people.

As cheerful, noisy banter passed back and forth, how long did we travel?

Beyond the stretch of green plains, a single stone bridge came into view, crossing a fast-flowing river.

But at the entrance to the bridge stood a crudely carved wooden barricade, and a group of men armed with spears and swords blocked the road.

"Stop right there! If you want to cross this bridge, pay the toll!"

Among those calling themselves soldiers, a thick-bearded man who looked to be the leader leveled the tip of his spear at us.

I gave them a quick once-over. Ill-fitting old armor streaked with rust, the stale stink of men who clearly hadn't washed in days, and sloppy stances with no formation at all.

"Bandits pretending to be soldiers. For a first event, this is way too boring."

Well, in a chaotic age like this, it was only natural for bandits like these to be everywhere. Even in the Three Kingdoms you had the White Wave Bandits, the Black Mountain Bandits, the Yellow Turbans, and a ton of others. Britain was still a place where people lived, so of course it was the same.

Though obviously not on that scale, given the difference in population.

When I let out a faint laugh, Kay clicked his tongue, put a hand on the hilt of his sword, and urged his horse forward.

"Tch, vermin already swarming us the moment we set out. There's no need for you, the king, to step in personally. Trash like this can be lightly swept aside by big brother Kay her—"

"Brother! Please let me handle riffraff like this!"

Before Kay could even move, Artoria, who had been riding beside me on the Dun Stallion, leaped lightly down from her horse, her eyes shining.

Drawing the sword at her waist, she strode past Kay and walked boldly toward the bandits.

Merlin had only given Artoria an ordinary enchanted sword, probably because she intended to find her another weapon later.

"All right, go ahead. Be careful not to get hurt, and show them your skill properly."

At that response, the bandits playing soldier reacted and raised their weapons.

"A laughable little bitch! Brothers, seize that insolent brat! She's pretty enough that if we sell her off, she'll fetch a nice pri—!"

Before the bandit chief could finish his lecherous order—

Tap!

Mana burst from Artoria's feet, kicking up a cloud of dust. Her small, slender frame closed the distance in an instant, as if vanishing from the bandits' sight.

"W-what the—!"

Clang!Crack!

The moment a silver flash of swordlight blazed, the weapons of the three bandits standing in front were sliced apart like blocks of tofu and sent flying into the air.

"How dare you look at me with such filthy eyes! The only one allowed to look at me that way is my brother!"

Artoria struck the disarmed bandits in the stomach one after another with the flat of her blade.

Thud!Wham!

"Gaaah!"

"Kgh...!"

With a single blow, the bandits went tumbling, froth and blood spilling from their mouths. At that overwhelming speed, and the heavy burst of mana pouring from the girl's body, the remaining bandits went pale.

"Y-you monstrous bitch! Get her together!!"

Seven bandits rushed Artoria all at once, weapons raised high. But with graceful footwork, Artoria slipped past their crude attacks as if she were dancing.

Slash!Clang!

Artoria's sword perfectly pierced their blind spots. She struck wrists with the back of her blade to knock weapons free, then used the centrifugal force of her turning body to whip a kick up into a jaw.

Naturally, Artoria's physical abilities had already surpassed those of an ordinary human.

In less than a minute, the dozen or so bandits blocking the bridge entrance were all rolling on the ground without a single exception, groaning in agony.

Watching that overwhelming display of force from horseback, Kay let out a hollow laugh.

"At this rate, will there ever even be a turn for me to step in? I'm basically the weakest one here."

"Stheno's a noncombatant, so she's weaker."

"The hell, am I supposed to be happy about that?"

"Phew."

Artoria lightly wiped the sweat beading on her forehead, then slid her spotless sword back into its scabbard with a crisp sound. Then she came running back to me and beamed brightly.

"How was that, Brother? I did well, right?"

"Excellent. It was very clean swordsmanship, without a wasted movement. As expected of my little sister, and my woman."

When I bent down from my horse and stroked her head, Artoria happily rubbed her cheek against my hand.

After clearing away the barricade where the unconscious bandits lay sprawled, we crossed the bridge at our leisure and resumed our journey toward North Wales.

At that same time.

At the northern edge of Britain, in a cold and dark Magecraft workshop in Orkney.

In the middle of a gloomy chamber where even light barely entered, a giant mirror carved smooth from obsidian was giving off a bluish glow of magical energy.

"......"

Before the mirror stood a woman in a pitch-black dress, poised and regal.

The eldest daughter of Uther Pendragon, and the most powerful and dangerous witch left on the island of Britain.

Morgan le Fay.

Her cold eyes were fixed on the image reflected beyond the mirror: Artoria defeating the bandits, then smiling brightly as Arthur praised her.

"...To think she's so delighted after defeating a few worthless bandits. How vulgar. How utterly laughable."

A chilly sneer slipped from Morgan's red lips.

But her gaze soon moved past Artoria and settled on the king atop his horse, radiating the arrogant bearing of a great predator.

A fifteen-year-old boy, wearing the golden sword Caliburn at his waist and leading countless Heroic Spirits as he advanced north.

In Morgan's eyes as she watched him, deep love and hatred, unknowable longing, and eerie jealousy were all tangled together.

"So... you finally drew the [Sword of Selection] and crawled out into the world, did you? My lovely and infuriating little brother, Arthur."

Morgan reached out with delicate fingers and brushed the surface of the mirror. As if she were trying to caress Arthur directly through it, her touch was secretive and clinging, like a snake.

The younger brother who had taken the throne of Britain that should belong to her alone.

And Artoria, with a face so strikingly like her own, glued to that younger brother's side.

"The king of this Britain is me alone. The one who will become Britain's master, the one who will become king, is me. The one who should have been allowed to stand at the king's side... should have been me."

Had Arthur's appearance reminded her of the young Uther, and Artoria at his side of her own childhood self?

As a child, she had been a failed creation who could not stand at her father Uther's side, and because she had not been chosen by him, she carried a deep inferiority complex, jealousy, and resentment.

Was that why? Though she resented Arthur, perhaps because she saw Uther overlaid upon him, her jealousy toward Artoria had grown all the greater.

"Yes, keep smiling while you can. Before Vortigern is brought down, you will disappear."

Her first target, the object of her resentment, was not Arthur, who had to defeat Vortigern... but her half-sister Artoria, who, like Arthur, possessed the qualifications of an heir and resembled Morgan's former self.

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