Chapter 51: Erin -1-

"In short, you're saying the talent recruitment system in Britain right now is basically one giant cesspit."

I let out a deep sigh and tossed the report Merlin had compiled on North Wales's administration and talent selection onto the desk.

At present, the posts of provincial governors and lords in Britain were being passed down hereditarily by bloodline under the feudal system.

Even an incompetent fool could inherit his father's domain if he was born with the right blood, then squeeze the lifeblood out of the people.

Even under feudalism, the central government could appoint new lords, but for the past several centuries the real power had been Rome, so they must have handled it carelessly, and since my grandfather's generation the age had been so chaotic that the central government itself had become a scarecrow.

And the civil officials who were supposed to handle practical administration were in even worse shape.

There were effectively no proper educational institutions in this era. The only places that taught letters, Latin, law, and basic learning were churches and monasteries, where clergymen gave instruction.

If you were not a noble's child, you were not even given the chance to be educated, and even if a commoner somehow got lucky enough to learn to read, the only path to advancement was to become a monk or priest under the Church.

In other words, the Church had a complete monopoly over the state's administrative power and information network.

And what about the military side?

Whether commoner or noble, if you wanted to become a knight, you had to enter the service of a powerful knight, spend years shoveling horse dung, polishing armor, and learning swordsmanship and etiquette.

Then you had to prove your worth to that knight and receive a letter of recommendation before you could be knighted.

Of course, if you were truly skilled, you could wander as a sellsword, build a name for yourself, and rise that way, but unless your ability was exceptional, that was basically suicide.

You would honestly have a better chance of surviving by becoming a bandit and joining a gang, and you would probably live better that way too.

"This is exactly like the recommendation system of the Han dynasty."

I muttered with a frown.

"You don't get selected through objective ability or examinations. You only get recruited if you have connections to the existing ruling class and win their subjective approval—in other words, you have to catch the eye of a bunch of old fossils. No wonder corruption is rampant, with people bribing and flattering their way into becoming knights and officials."

This was a rotten age where someone with no real ability whatsoever could become a high-ranking knight if he had money or knew how to cling to the right patron, and where someone could seize an administrative post over a territory just by currying favor with the Church.

The kind of cases that show up all the time in romance fantasy—people with no ability who land good positions because of family background or money—those were things that existed in reality.

That was why I kept comparing this era to the Three Kingdoms. Just like in the Three Kingdoms, when the emperor openly sold offices, even someone incompetent and rotten to the core could get ahead if he had money or stood in the right line.

I was starting to understand why the Arthurian legends were so full of rebellions, and why the kingdom collapsed in a mere ten years.

Foreign invasion was certainly a major factor, but the fact that it was a feudal system and, on top of that, a confederation made up of far too many states must have played a huge part.

Even Gaya had been a confederation, so how had it lasted five hundred years? No wonder it was called Great Gaya. To think I'd end up feeling patriotic pride from my previous life here.

I was almost at the point of wanting to ask Gaya for its secret. Of course, compared to Gaya, this place was an absolute disaster.

Britain as it was now—and Britain as I knew it—was an empire, in a sense. Not an empire of an emperor, but an empire in the sense of a nation made up of many countries.

In reality, confederations like this were never built to last.

Gaya lasting that long was the unusual case. Historically, most of them did not endure. Sooner or later, they were bound to unify.

Britain, meanwhile, fought among itself until it was devoured by the Saxons, the Picts, and the Gaels, entered the age of the Heptarchy, and barely clung to life in Wales alone.

If Boudica, who had rallied Britain by forming a massive coalition army of eighty thousand against a single enemy, could see this, she would weep tears of blood.

Rome beat them down, and now they were being beaten down by the people Rome had driven out.

And what was this, still running countries by tribal units in the fifth century? I was beginning to understand, at least somewhat, why Rome regarded Britain as a land of barbarians.

Vortigern was still racking up victories today.

"So I'm going to smash all of those rotten customs."

I paced around the office, my eyes shining.

"It may be impossible right now, but in my kingdom, I'm going to introduce a system that selects talent solely by objective ability, regardless of status or connections. A world where commoners and nobles alike take the same test papers, pass the same trials, and the ones with the best scores become officials. And to cultivate those people, I will establish schools in every region, run directly by the state rather than the Church."

As she listened to my grand plan for an educational revolution, Medea stepped up beside the desk and smiled faintly.

"How moving. Long ago, Jason once spoke to me of a dream like that as well. He said he wanted to build schools where anyone could receive an education regardless of birth. A place like the one where he had learned under Chiron, he said. A school with better conditions than a stable."

Then she added with a bitter sneer,

"Of course, that man was all polished words and accomplished nothing."

"I'll show you the difference between a man who only talks and a man who actually does it. Once I decide on something, I make it happen."

When I thumped my chest confidently, Medea gently brushed my cheek with eyes full of warmth and trust.

A few days later.

While I was organizing an army for the conquest of mainland Ireland, unexpected guests crossed the sea and arrived at Nogares Royal Castle.

"An envoy sent by King Anguisauns of the Kingdom of Munster in southern Iwerddon, Ireland, has arrived!"

"Oh? They moved a lot faster than I expected."

I raised a brow in surprise.

I had been weighing the timing of an invasion from Britain into Ireland, and instead they had bowed their heads and come to me first.

I dressed in the attire of a king and headed for the audience chamber to receive the delegation.

The great throne in the audience hall.

To my right stood Morgan, radiating cold elegance, and to my left stood Artoria, pregnant, holding her place with a shy yet resolute expression.

Artoria in particular had now entered her third month of pregnancy, and her belly was already noticeably rounded, more than I had expected.

"Brother, I think our child must have some kind of super egg or something, because it's growing unusually fast. I can already feel it moving."

As Artoria stroked her belly in wonder, I turned to Morgan with worried eyes.

"Sister, isn't this growing way too fast? It's not going to shave off its lifespan and die young or something, is it?"

Morgan gave a leisurely snort.

"A pointless worry. I check its Mana every day. This is simply the result of the red dragon factor and my fairy blood fusing perfectly. If anything, it is growing quickly because it is too robust and overflowing with vitality. Its lifespan will be far longer than that of ordinary humans, and even longer than that of normal fairies. So rest easy."

Morgan's confident assurance let me finally breathe in relief.

Behind me stood Merlin, my strategist, and Medea, my wife, while below the steps leading to the throne, Barghest stood firm as captain of the guard, bracing herself on her massive greatsword with solemn dignity.

"Envoys of Munster, enter!"

At Barghest's booming voice, the heavy doors opened, and at the head of the delegation walked in a dazzlingly beautiful blonde woman.

It was Princess Isolde, a beauty beyond compare.

After confirming the sight of me seated on the throne—young, yet exuding the fierce bearing of a beast—Isolde swallowed softly. She approached to the foot of my throne and knelt with graceful courtesy.

"In place of His Highness Anguisauns, Ard Rí of Munster, I, his daughter Isolde, offer greetings to His Highness Arthur, true heir of Pendragon and the new sun of Britain."

"Rise."

Looking down at her, I got straight to the point.

"So then, why did King Anguisauns dare send an envoy? I was just thinking of carrying things through and unifying all of your land of Erin under my feet as well."

Even at that fearsome declaration of conquest, Isolde did not panic. If anything, a strange surge of emotion and joy flickered in her eyes.

"Erin..."

Isolde smiled faintly.

"To hear Your Highness call our homeland not the barbarous Ireland, but Erin, its noble name from ages past, fills my heart to overflowing. We too have not the slightest desire to shed needless blood in hostility against the great King Arthur."

Erin.

In the distant past, it had been the age of warriors, when heroes such as Cu Chulainn and Finn MacCool had flourished.

Now other lands called it Ireland, and even its own people had begun to call it Ireland as well.

Rome called it Hibernia, or else Scotia. Their original name, Erin, had all but vanished together with myth.

Lowering her head, she made her proposal with due courtesy.

"In the past, our Munster submitted before the overwhelming might of Rience in order to preserve our kingdom. But if Your Highness's will truly lies in the unification and peace of Erin, then Munster will gladly accept the rule and suzerainty of His Highness Arthur, on the condition that we retain our status as a vassal state."

When she finished speaking, the generals and soldiers who had come with her presented countless offerings gathered from all across Ireland—gold, regional treasures, precious jewels, and fine horses—before the audience hall.

I glanced over those glittering tribute gifts and let out a short laugh.

"Well, if you're willing to crawl beneath my feet without forcing me to move my army and spill blood, I have no reason to object. I accept your proposal."

Just as relief was about to bloom across the faces of the delegation, my cold voice tore through the audience chamber.

"However. There is a condition."

I narrowed my eyes and stared at Isolde.

"I hate rebellion and backstabbing more than anything in this world. To prove the oath you make with me as a vassal state, the entire royal house of Anguisauns will swear loyalty under a family-wide geas."

"A-a geas?!"

The general standing behind Isolde stepped forward in shock.

"Even if we are a vassal state serving a suzerain, to shackle an entire royal house of a sovereign nation with a geas is excessive oppression and humiliation!"

My gaze turned icy.

"If you dislike that humiliation, then draw your swords right now and make it war. My legions will dye the land of Erin red with blood. Rest easy—the geas will be made valid only for my generation. I have no intention of binding my descendants' descendants to your line forever."

Faced with my firmness, the general could only bite his lip and fall silent.

"...Understood."

It was Isolde who broke the silence. She looked at me with unwavering resolve in her eyes.

"If you acknowledge us as a vassal state and do not subject us to unjust oppression, then we will gladly accept the condition of the geas."

"You have some decisiveness after all."

Smiling in satisfaction, I pointed at Isolde.

"Then as the first proof of that oath, Princess Isolde, representative of this delegation, you will be the first to enter into a geas with me. And until I personally travel to Erin for an inspection, you will remain here in Nogares Castle."

It was an unmistakable demand for a hostage.

But Isolde was not surprised.

'As expected, he still does not fully trust us. I anticipated at least this much caution. If anything, this life as a hostage will be a chance to understand exactly what kind of man King Arthur is.'

She nodded.

Then, for the briefest instant, Isolde's gaze rested on Artoria at the left of the throne, cradling her rounded belly with care.

'She looks so very young, and yet he already has wives and has even conceived a perfect heir. As a ruler who must preserve the future and bloodline of his homeland, it is only natural that he would be this thorough and hard-line.'

Isolde bent her knees demurely and began preparing for the oath of the geas.

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