Crack!
My wooden sword, carved from hard oak, cut a fierce arc through the air, but all I received in return was a recoil strong enough to make my bones tingle.
"You seem distracted, Arthur. Focus a little more~"
Before me stood Merlin, the white-haired incubus wearing an annoyingly radiant smile.
With the tip of her ornate staff, she was effortlessly blocking my all-out strikes.
No, rather than blocking them, it would be more accurate to say she was smoothly diverting them as though indulging a child at play.
"Ghk...! I'm not done yet!"
Gritting my teeth, I kicked off the ground once more.
The strength and speed I displayed were unbelievable for a mere four-year-old.
A Pendragon body, born with the heart of the Red Dragon and destined through the generations to rule Britain, combined with the mental fortitude of an adult who had lived through the twenty-first century—together, they forced out an irregular flurry of strikes.
I feinted high, then immediately twisted at the waist and aimed for Merlin's thigh.
"Oh? That was fairly sharp. But Arthur, aren't your eyes giving it away a little too clearly?"
Merlin took a featherlight step back and casually lowered her staff. Once again, my wooden sword was caught against its shaft and sliced harmlessly through the air.
Her skirt fluttered as she turned with effortless grace, then lightly tapped the tip of her staff against my forehead.
"Ow!"
"Hehe. You're full of openings. Swordsmanship isn't simply about swinging as hard as you can~ You need to read your opponent's breathing while concealing your own. Right now, Arthur, you're practically announcing, 'I'm going to hit you here!'"
At her teasing words, I fell flat on my back and panted for breath.
My whole body was already drenched in sweat, and both hands gripping the wooden sword trembled.
Meanwhile, Merlin's breathing had not so much as faltered. If anything, she was clearly treating this spar as an amusing game.
She called herself a mage, yet even her close-combat ability was beyond all reason. The male Merlin had supposedly found wielding a sword more comfortable than magecraft, too.
No, but wasn't female Merlin the archetypal mage type, with Strength E?
Did she possess male Merlin's strength here as well? Then again, even an E-ranked Strength parameter was said to be on the level of a national athlete. Of course a child like me would be overwhelmed.
I knew from the start that she was not an opponent I could defeat. Still, being so thoroughly toyed with every time naturally made me stubborn.
"Huff, huff... Are you really a mage? What kind of mage is this good with a sword—no, a staff?"
"My, I'll take that as a compliment! Sometimes it's faster to hit someone directly with a staff than to chant a spell. And if you're going to handle the affairs of a nation, this much stamina is the bare minimum, isn't it?"
Merlin came over and plopped down beside me, gently stroking my exhausted hair.
Her touch carried a faint floral fragrance.
She was a playful, inscrutable incubus, but there was unmistakable affection in the way she looked at Artoria and me.
"But, Arthur."
Curiosity gleamed in Merlin's eyes. Resting her chin on one hand, she looked down at me with open interest.
"Why are you so desperate to become stronger? You're only four years old. None of the kings or heroes of this age prepare for tomorrow as fiercely as you do. What form does the king's path you wish to walk even take, for you to drive yourself this harshly?"
The king's path.
The road a king must walk.
At her question, countless thoughts passed through my mind.
Artoria's miserable end—fighting alone until she coughed blood in a fate of ruin that no one understood, before finally falling.
"...It's simple."
I steadied my breathing and sat up. Then I looked Merlin directly in the eyes and spoke.
"First. I want a world where everyone can eat their fill, sleep warmly, and laugh. Above all, a world where my little sister Artoria can eat all the delicious food she wants every day and smile with pure happiness. A world where no one goes hungry, and Britain's barren land is filled with abundance. That's my basic goal."
"Oh~?"
A faint smile touched Merlin's lips. It was the very image of an ideal wise king: someone who cared for his people's welfare and devoted himself to them.
Surely Merlin had been about to see in me the makings of a splendid king who sacrificed himself for the public good, and be moved by it.
But my answer did not end there.
"But I have no intention whatsoever of sacrificing my own happiness as the price for it."
"...Pardon?"
"Because a king must devote everything to his people? Because he must kill his emotions and embody a perfect ideal? What a joke. I'm going to eat the best food in the world and sleep in the softest bed in the world."
I clenched my fist, putting force into my voice.
"I'll possess strength so overwhelming that no one can look down on me. I'll pile every rare treasure in this world into my vault. I'll gather beautiful women and build a harem, doing whatever I want... I'll become an utterly free and greedy king."
A stunned silence followed my declaration.
Merlin blinked blankly for a moment. Then her shoulders began to shake, and she burst into helpless laughter.
"Ahahahaha! Oh, Arthur! Pfft... ahahaha!"
She practically rolled about clutching her stomach. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes as she finally managed to catch her breath and speak.
"W-What is that? Feeding the people well is nice and all, but treasures and a harem for yourself? You're going to do whatever you please? That just makes you a greedy tyrant!"
"I don't care if I'm a tyrant. A capable tyrant who fills his people's bellies while looking after his own interests is a hundred, a thousand times better than an incompetent wise king ruling a nation where people starve to death."
I puffed out my chest proudly.
On this point, Iskandar and Gilgamesh were right.
A king had to be the incarnation of desire stronger than anyone else's.
That was why countless troops had followed Iskandar in life, and why the people of Uruk had remained loyal to Gilgamesh. He, too, had ended his life as a Wise King while possessing innumerable treasures.
If I seized overwhelming violence, amassed overwhelming wealth, and made Britain prosperous, my little sister could live happily for the rest of her life as a girl, without ever having to bear a burden.
"Honestly... the more I learn about you, the stranger you become—and the more unbearably fascinating you are."
After laughing for a long while, Merlin wiped away her tears and looked at me.
There was no longer the playful look one gave a four-year-old child in her gaze. Instead, she regarded me with the deep interest one might hold for some bizarre creature—or a new myth.
"The coexistence of altruistic goals and utterly selfish desires... Normally, one would collapse into one side or the other, but you intend to seize both? I've often seen the tale of a tragic hero who saves a country by throwing himself away, but this is my first time seeing a king declare, 'I'll take everything, so you can eat your fill under my rule!'"
Leaning on her staff, she slowly rose to her feet and beamed.
"All right! Now I'm truly curious. I want to see what sort of country you'll create—a country that seems tyrannical, yet peaceful. I'll stay by your side and watch it closely. You said you'd build a harem, right? Would you add me to the list of candidates?"
"You're disqualified because you're Merlin."
"Ah, that's cruel! I may be a succubus, but I'm a virgin, you know!? I'm not some loose woman!"
Just as Merlin puffed out her cheeks in an exaggerated pout—
"Brother~! Merlin~! Ector is here! Come have some snacks!"
A clear, cheerful voice called out from the direction of the cottage.
Artoria was hurrying toward us in little steps, carrying a plate of freshly baked cookies in both hands.
"A-Artoria! You'll fall! Slow down!"
I threw aside my wooden sword, hastily dusted off the dirt, and ran to her.
The solemn intensity with which I had just spoken of an emperor's path was nowhere to be found. In an instant, I was back to being an overprotective brother fretting that his sister might get hurt.
"You're covered in sweat, Brother! Here, I brought you a towel!"
"Thanks. It doesn't feel tiring at all when my cute little sister brings it to me."
Artoria stood on tiptoe and wiped the sweat from my forehead. I smiled at the touch of her small, soft hands.
Even if I possessed everything in the world, I would never trade it for this one smile.
Behind us, I heard Merlin giggling as she watched the two of us.
"That extreme sister worship... You'll go down in history as a sister-obsessed king before you even build that harem, won't you?"
Well, whatever. As I bit into one of the cookies Artoria offered me, I made a firm vow to myself.
Just wait, Britain.
I'll remake this incompetent, ruined island nation from the ground up. For my happiness, and for my little sister's perfect happy ending!
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