บท 241: C241
The moon hung alone in the pitch-black sky, casting a chilly, faint light over the earth. Outside the Kingdom, where the Dead Apostles once roamed, campfires dotted the forest like twinkling stars. The flames danced wildly, illuminating a lively scene.
Amidst these campfires, soldiers sat and relaxed, taking off their armor and chatting over drinks. The warm glow of the fires and the sound of their laughter filled the night air, creating a sense of camaraderie and comfort in the midst of the wilderness.
Although they were soldiers and perhaps shouldn't have let their guard down, the war was over and the island was now ruled by a new dynasty. The kingdoms were long gone, and the soldiers found themselves relaxing around the campfires.
"Come on, brothers, drink up!" one of them said, raising his cup in a toast.
Another chimed in, "Last time a beauty gave me wine, she must have been interested in me!"
As they laughed and joked, one of the soldiers announced, "I need to take a leak."
"I'll come too," said another. "Want to see who can pee farther?"
"Ha! With your skinny build, you're like a woman. I'm sure I can pee farther than you!" teased a third soldier.
"Get lost!"
The soldiers shed their heavy burdens and exchanged jokes and banter, their laughter echoing throughout the land.
Meanwhile, beside the knights' campfire, the king sat cross-legged on the ground. He lazily munched on an apple and smiled as he watched the soldiers' banter. His stern face had softened, and he looked almost like the gentle young boy he used to be.
"My king, you have accomplished a great feat by defeating the White Dragon Vortigern and unifying the British Isles, Ireland, and Gaul!" Morgan spoke with admiration as she presented Shirou with a cup of wine. "This is a wine I have carefully prepared for you. Please enjoy it."
Shirou eyed Morgan with suspicion and instinctively wrapped himself in black mud. However, her gentle smile was like that of a small white rabbit, and it was difficult for him to remain distrustful.
"Please, try it," Morgan insisted, her smile as warm as the sun on a summer's day. She had the innocence and liveliness of a young girl, and it was impossible for anyone to resist her charm.
Unfortunately, Shirou had already seen through Morgan's true nature. He turned his head to Merlin, who was drinking beside him, and cleared his throat while giving him a threatening look.
Merlin shuddered in disbelief as he looked from Shirou to Morgan, who now wore a fierce expression. Without hesitation, he leaned closer to the king and whispered, "She's trying to give you the Soul Dissolving Potion."
Shirou remained expressionless as he stared at Morgan, who was now gritting her teeth in frustration. After a moment of tense silence, she stomped her feet and stormed off in anger.
"Arthur, I challenge you to a one-on-one duel!" Scathach brandished her spear, pointing it challengingly at Shirou.
He picked up the holy lance Rhongomyniad and confidently walked up to Scathach. "Very well, give me the spear."
"It's useless. That move won't work on me anymore!" she grinned.
He smiled back, and in an instant, Scathach's spear melted away. He then pointed the tip of the holy lance at her face.
"Why... why is this happening?" Scathach looked flustered. This wasn't supposed to happen!
"You're wielding a spear made by this king, and now you want to challenge me to a duel? Aren't you just asking for humiliation?" he mocked mercilessly. "Tsk tsk tsk... how embarrassing!"
Scathach gritted her teeth in frustration at Shirou's taunting words and hateful expression.
"After the results of our duel, it looks like your hair is going to be in for quite the surprise tonight... hehehe," the king chuckled with glee, causing Scathach to feel fear rising in her chest. She covered her head and ran away.
"Run, run. If I catch you, I'll pluck every last hair from your head!" the king jeered, taunting Scathach as she disappeared into the crowd.
"No, please don't!" Scathach shivered in terror as she hid amongst the people, clutching tightly onto her hair.
The king's laughter filled the air as he returned to his seat, leaving Merlin still munching on his apple. However, Merlin's expression was now one of horror as Morgan stared at him intently. She squeezed the apple in her hand, causing juice to splatter all over the ground.
Merlin trembled and couldn't bear to look at her.
Morgan gritted her teeth in frustration. As long as that useless white furball was by the king's side, she wouldn't be able to succeed in her plans!
But how could she get rid of him?
Morgan thought for a moment, and her gaze fell on Kay, who was drinking beside her. She gestured for him to come closer.
"Kay, can you come over here for a moment?" she asked, her voice low and conspiratorial.
Kay walked over, looking puzzled. "What's the matter, Princess Morgan?"
She glared hatefully at Merlin and said, "Let me tell you something, Kay. Merlin has been using your name to hit on me." She then proceeded to share some information with him about Merlin that she knew.
At first, Kay's expression was happy, but as he listened, his face turned pale. His trembling hand gripped the sword hilt, and he turned his head with an intense look of killing intent, ready to confront Merlin by the king's side.
His momentum was like that of a devil from hell!
But...
Merlin had already run away.
...
"Teacher, teacher, who do you think is stronger, you or Sir Lamorak?" Gareth asked, gazing at Lancelot with curiosity.
"If we're talking about swordsmanship, then I believe I am the stronger of the two. However, when it comes to spearmanship, I can't compare to Sir Lamorak," Lancelot replied with a gentle smile.
"What if we were to compare your swordsmanship to Sir Lamorak's spear fighting?" Gareth's eyes widened with excitement as he posed the question to Lancelot.
Lancelot paused, considering the idea for a moment before responding, "I can't say for sure."
"Let's have a competition! Let's see who comes out on top!" Gawain exclaimed, his enthusiasm contagious.
The other knights nearby joined in the cheering and jeering, eager to witness the contest between Lancelot and Sir Lamorak.
Lancelot and Lamorak exchanged embarrassed glances before picking up their weapons. Lancelot took up his sword, and Lamorak grabbed a spear as they began their match in front of the watching knights.
The crowd erupted into cheers as the two skilled warriors faced off against each other.
"Great!"
"Go, Lancelot!"
"Don't lose, Lamorak!"
The knights cheered enthusiastically as Lancelot and Lamorak continued their match, their movements fluid and graceful.
Meanwhile, on this dreamy night with a picturesque view, Tristan felt inspired to pull out his harp and begin playing a long, somewhat melancholic melody.
However, Shirou felt uncomfortable and shouted loudly over the music. "Tristan, on such a joyful night, let's play a more upbeat tune!"
Tristan was at a loss, his fingers pausing on the strings of his harp. "But my king, I only know how to play sad songs..." he said hesitantly, unsure of what to do.
"Then give me the harp, and I'll play!" Shirou exclaimed, eager to lift the mood.
Tristan's eyes widened with fear and he quickly shook his head. "No, no, no! Please, Your Majesty, sit down. It's the duty and honor of a knight to play a cheerful and joyful piece for the king. Please allow me to do so," he said, his voice quivering with nervousness.
Shirou looked puzzled, "But didn't you say you couldn't play it?"
"I've learned it already! Your Majesty. Please, have a seat and let me play it for you."
Reluctantly, Tristan plucked the strings and began to play a cheerful melody, his face turning pale with nerves.
Despite Tristan's efforts to play a cheerful tune, the knights still clamored for Shirou to take up the harp.
"Tristan, give the harp to the king! His music is sure to be incredible. We haven't heard it yet!" they demanded, their voices insistent.
Tristan was at a loss and could only play an unsatisfactory tune, feeling sad.
Meanwhile, Bedivere watched the lively bonfire from afar, his expression eager and puppy-like. "I want to play too," he said wistfully.
Agravain cut in, his tone stern. "Stop babbling, we're the logistics officers for the campaign supplies. We need to count the war losses."
"But you're my second-in-command, and there were no casualties..." Bedivere protested meekly, his expression crestfallen.
"Supplies still need to be counted, and you can't run away from your duties," Agravain replied calmly, his voice firm.
"Uh..." Bedivere looked like he was about to cry, feeling disappointed at missing out on the fun.
Agravain paused and considered for a moment before saying, "Finish it quickly, and you can go early."
Bedivere's face immediately lit up with joy, and he grinned from ear to ear. "Okay! Alright!"
In the distance, the flower magus Merlin ran in a panic through a field of blooming flowers. Behind him, Kay chased after him with a fierce, demonic expression on his face, his sword held high.
"Merlin, you bastard! Stop running!" Kay shouted after him.
Merlin responded, "Only a fool wouldn't run from a madman like you!"
Kay snarled in anger. "You cowardly bastard! You have the guts to use my name to deceive people, but not the guts to face me?"
The other knights watched the scene unfold and burst into laughter. "Kay and Merlin's relationship is so good!"
Galahad, the son of Lancelot, had just arrived in Britain and approached Artoria timidly by the bonfire. He blinked his eyes and spoke softly, "Lady Artoria, you've been following the king for a long time. Can you tell me what the king's majesty looks like?"
Artoria looked at him curiously and asked, "Why do you ask, Galahad?"
Galahad replied, "My father always speaks about the king's majesty in front of me, and I want to know what it really looks like."
"I understand," she said. "Perhaps it looks something like this."
She put down the bread she was holding and sat up straight, trying to exude the king's majesty. "Can you see it clearly?"
Galahad nodded, his eyes shining with admiration.
Suddenly, Arcueid appeared behind Artoria and motioned for Galahad to be quiet. He blinked in surprise but didn't say anything.
Arcueid reached out quietly and yanked Artoria's ponytail while she was trying to imitate the king's majesty, causing her to scream and crouch on the ground, trying to hide her hair.
Shirou glanced at her and laughed, "Artie, I've never embarrassed myself like that!"
The knights joined in the laughter, agreeing, "This is definitely not the king's majesty!"
It was a rare sight to see Artoria, who had always been serious and reserved, in such an embarrassing state. The knights burst into laughter, and even Arcueid, who had instigated the prank, was laughing heartily.
This only made Artoria angrier, and she trembled with fury, her face turning red with embarrassment. She drew Caliburn and chased after Arcueid, who quickly turned and fled.
"Don't run! Come back here!" Artoria shouted in anger.
"Not running is foolish, hehehe!"
Shirou smiled, wishing for love to endure forever in the world, bringing hope to humanity and genuine happiness to people's lives.
But...
It seemed like they forgot something?
Cornwall.
The palace.
"Achoo!"
Guinevere sneezed, then continued to work diligently...
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