56 [56] Dragon and Fairy

Inside the magnificent castle of Orkney County, the former King Lot has abdicated, making way for the exclusive palace of King Arthur, Artoria.

On the flawless round table crafted by the fairies.

A circle of knights adorned in luxurious armor passionately discusses various matters.

This is the new Knights of the Round Table assembled by Artoria from the talented and exceptional individuals among the Celts.

As the last glimmer before the decline of the age of gods, the current Celts are almost all capable warriors, each able to stand alone, making it challenging for the Saxon people to advance their front lines.

Even though their numbers are superior, they are facing opponents who are ten times stronger.

Faced with the intelligence received from the enemy territory, the knights feel an inexplicable confusion.

"This is their... farming pamphlet. Our reconnaissance knights stole it from a village on the border. It seems that each village has been given a book by the so-called 'Farming Promoter.' If they can't understand it, they can seek assistance to interpret the content."

"Where do they get so much canvas? Uh... the material quality of this canvas seems a bit too crude. A gentle tear and it seems like it's about to rip apart."

"Can this be called art? In my opinion, it tarnishes the essence of painting."

"Let me see, it details... knowledge of farming? Plowing? Fertilizing? Timing for watering? Also, pest control?"

"...Huh? Why bother drawing this? What's the use of farming well? Britannia, our land of abundance, has never lacked food."

"They seem to be popularizing... literacy education? And something called... 'qualification exams'?"

"It's perplexing. What's the meaning of going through the trouble of teaching the people to read and write, and conducting 'qualification exams'? They are wasting time on farming, how are they going to pay tribute to the local nobles, provide textiles, and forge armor? Everyone knows that those uncivilized people don't understand any etiquette and can't sing elegant poems."

"Oh, sorry, the son of the White Dragon on the other side seems to have completely abolished the aristocracy noble. Now the entire country only listens to him..."

"Ha?! What did you say...?!"

"What a foolish move! Does he see inheritance as nothing?! Is he trying to restore slavery?!"

"Forgive my bluntness, but how will we support the production of knights? We all know that only noble families with the glory of inheritance can provide a good combat environment for future generations!"

"Nobility is the cornerstone of a country! We are taught to be elegant and composed; we adhere to the spirit of knighthood. We, as knights, lead the people because we have the ability! The common people cannot handle these complex matters!"

"As for those so-called 'officials'... they say they can't inherit, can they have any loyalty to the king?"

"How can ancestral traditions change? Are we expecting the common people to sustain a country? We all know how cunning those commoners can be!"

"I think we don't need to attack the son of the White Dragon tonight! These ridiculous, backward measures will make them collapse on their own..."

"..."

Watching these new Knight of the Round Table members fervently discussing, it seems that the imminent collapse of the opposing kingdom is at hand.

One-armed Agravain sits at the edge of the round table, sighing sadly.

Endowed with talents in various affairs, he is practically the logistics of the entire Knights of the Round Table, responsible for managing the finances of King Arthur's rule over the Celtic Kingdom.

Among all the Knights of the Round Table, only he can vaguely see... within the gaps in those fragmented messages... what kind of great terror is being revealed.

"Alvin Pendragon..."

His bitter voice echoes.

"I finally understand now why he pulled out the Sword of Selection that day..."

"I thought his strength was unparalleled, but I didn't expect his governance abilities to be even more extraordinary."

"Faced with such a terrifying opponent..."

"I, Agravain, can't see even a trace of hope for us to win..."

This bitter and sorrowful sigh attracts the attention of everyone.

However, the Knights of the Round Table members cannot comprehend Agravain's words.

Rather than saying they 'do not understand...'

It is better to say that they feel resentment.

Hey buddy, our esteemed King Arthur is sitting right in front of you, and you're bragging about the governance abilities of the king on the other side?

Boosting others' morale while undermining your own prestige?

"Agravain, I know you've always had trouble sleeping, but don't get nervous here."

Lancelot disdainfully picks up the so-called intelligence and glances at it.

No, what's so terrifying about this?

Isn't it just farming? Huh? Farming also needs to be taught?

And what's this... an exam? Officials?

Meaning unclear.

How can a country lack nobility? Lancelot himself is a noble family of France, with an incredibly noble bloodline.

Agravain's words make him feel extremely uncomfortable.

In fact, within the entire Knights of the Round Table, the only one who could truly impress the proud Knights of the Lake was the king herself.

From the first glance at Orkney, Lancelot was already awestruck by the radiant brilliance of the golden-haired girl. After being defeated under her Excalibur, he couldn't help but admire this exceptional queen.

He could never believe that there could be someone with a more regal demeanor than the king he served.

"To be honest... I can't see the significance of these things. Can farming and literacy make a country stronger?"

"Hehe..."

Lancelot let out a disdainful sneer, his tone suddenly rising.

"...Then what are knights for?! Why don't we all just go and farm!"

Everyone couldn't help but nod in agreement.

Lancelot's words were actually the sentiments of most Knights of the Round Table.

Those gathered here are mostly of noble birth. How comfortable could they be hearing that nobility across the sea has been abolished?

On the other side of the sea is the enemy.

How can we approve of the actions of the enemy?

"You don't understand at all, Lancelot... You, who is also a noble of France, can't comprehend the terror hidden behind these events. It's a country operating completely differently."

"I don't understand? Hehe... Agravain, you should understand the most! You always claim to understand everything! If you understand so much, why do you look miserable now?"

Lancelot has long found Agravain unpleasant.

Or rather, the entire Knights of the Round Table generally dislikes this gloomy figure.

He often admonishes everyone not to pursue enjoyment, to conserve energy, adhere to moderation, and avoid excessive extravagance.

Why bother? We've become Knight of the Round Table, can't we enjoy ourselves a bit?

The virtues of a knight do not include frugality.

Instead, those present have been educated since childhood to strive for honor, to be distinguished among others, to proclaim the glory and reputation of their own family.

Who likes being lectured?

Even if your hand is severed, you still want to play the wise man here, pointing fingers. That's enough.

Lancelot's words are unapologetic.

"Dragging your gloomy face around every day, Agravain, as if others owe you money! If you understand so much, where did your hand go? Was it thrown away on the road?"

His expression gradually revealed a mocking smile.

"I know the son of the White Dragon cut off your arm, and you fear him, but just because you're afraid doesn't mean we are! Agravain, if I were a cripple like you, I would have rolled out of the Round Table a long time ago!"

"Lancelot, you-!"

The six of the old Knights of the Round Table look at Lancelot with displeasure.

This Knight of the Lake, undaunted, sneers and meets their gaze.

Now, he is the second strongest under the king, mastering incomparable swordsmanship.

These six knights with severed right arms combined still can't match his Arondight.

Lancelot has the confidence and strength to challenge the old Knights of the Round Table.

Apart from the king, the new Knights of the Round Table also vaguely considers him the leader.

In this confrontation, there is also a third party who remains indifferent... a blond youth even more silent than Agravain.

Kay, sitting in the corner, observes the tense atmosphere before him with unmatched sarcasm.

He never speaks, never participates in any battles.

He doesn't even acknowledge himself as the Knight of the Round Table member because the title makes him feel nauseous.

The only reason he sits here is to be with his sister as family.

Lily...

You really live such a tiring life.

"... All of you, be quiet."

Soft words.

Yet, it abruptly extinguished the thick smell of gunpowder in the entire Round Table.

The scene instantly fell silent, becoming so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

Not for anything else.

Just because the one speaking is... King Arthur.

Sitting at the top of the Round Table.

Artoria lowers her deep green eyes.

She stares somewhat absent-mindedly at the information falling like snowflakes on the Round Table.

She knows more than Agravain.

Having been personally instructed by Alvin, she finally understood the profound meaning behind these tasks.

It was... higher efficiency, the roaring operation of the national machinery, the people longing for happiness and security, significant progress in productive forces.

Though separated by thousands of miles, it felt as if it was right in front of her.

She understood Alvin's intentions, she and him shared a spiritual connection.

The fact that this information could be transmitted without any defense already indicated a problem.

That person... taught her hands-on how to govern, how to make people live better, and how to make a country stronger and prosperous.

"We need to learn."

Artoria spoke softly.

The words were incredibly light, but they left the Knights of the Round Table stunned.

"Anglo-Saxon Kingdom, if they advance in how they govern..."

The golden-haired girl's voice gradually became firmer,

"We must adapt accordingly and follow suit!"

"No, it can't be! Absolutely not! My king!"

A knight advised with a shocked expression,

"We have no objections to the previous governance. But if you want to abolish the nobility of this country, although the dukes in the various counties support you as the king and are willing to follow your leadership, this is just...!"

He swallowed a mouthful of saliva, struggling to organize his words.

"...In other words, on their side, they are just a group of Saxon bandits who sneaked into sacred Britannia a few decades ago, with no legacy or glory! Those nobles, if they are abolished, they are abolished.

"On our side, even though we suffered significant damage after that battle, most of the knights in Orkney County are descendants of various Celtic noble families! Even the members of the Round Table are willing to believe in you, support you! But..."

He smiled bitterly and didn't continue.

Everyone looked at Artoria.

If you want to abolish the nobility, then what are we?

"King..."

Tristan closed his eyes and played a faint melody on his harp, well aware of how much resistance such an approach would face.

"You, you need to understand the hearts of the people..."

"Understand the hearts of the people...?"

Artoria laughed.

It seemed like she was reminiscing about the past.

Not knowing if she found it amusing or ironic, she laughed like that.

A wry smile.

Her eyes gradually became, so sorrowful.

"Sir Tristan, I've grown tired of hearing such words years ago."

She slowly stood up.

With quiet eyes, she surveyed the Knights of the Round Table in front of her.

They were tall, handsome, and their armor was so splendid.

Really, bright and beautiful.

"Dear knights, who can answer, what was the original purpose of our founding of the Knight of the Round Table, and what principles did we uphold?"

The knights looked at each other, carefully considering their words.

"It was... equality."

"Yes, equality!"

Artoria's passionate voice resounded, and her rhetorical question struck the hearts of the people.

"Then, is it just equality between knights... equals?"

Silence.

She looked at each person in the room.

Not a single person dared to meet her gaze.

"It's ridiculous... In your actions and words, I haven't seen even a semblance of equality or mutual respect among you."

She said calmly.

Her voice gradually became more and more intense.

"You are not equals! Knights are not respectful to each other!"

"Even the existence of the Knight of the Round Table itself is a symbol of inequality!"

"How about knights..."

"Are knights inherently nobler than commoners?!"

"Three hundred years have passed, and this action is for the immediate gain and future benefit! If you know my crimes, punish me, so what? I've made up my mind! If Alvin can do it, why can't Artoria!"

Bang!

The tip of the sword crashed onto the ground, producing a resounding sound that seemed to shake one's heart.

Standing in front of the Knights of the Round Table, the golden-haired girl held the hilt of the Excalibur with both hands, signifying her unwavering determination.

"To achieve victory, we must completely transform this country! Otherwise, we will be swept away into the historical garbage heap!"

"If you are willing to follow me, you can join me. If not, I won't force you to stay, feel free to leave."

"Inform your families that the destiny of this country will change from today."

Artoria turned around, heading straight towards the exit of the hall, stepping into the dazzling sunlight of Britannia.

The Sword of Promised Victory vibrated, floating in the air, faithfully following behind her, as if reminding her that she forgot something.

"My king, absolutely not! This is undoubtedly undermining the foundation!"

A chorus of dissuasion and shouts came from behind, along with the sound of armor half-kneeling on the ground, creating a heavy impact.

But it couldn't stop her steps, halting just for a moment.

"Not following the example of the strong, that is the true undermining of the foundation! This splendid and flawless Round Table will be overturned in an instant!"

Artoria walked into the sunlight.

The deep green lake reflected the brilliant and radiant midday sun.

Intense sunlight.

Like the dazzling brilliance of his radiant light, radiant and dazzling.

Facing the light.

Artoria, absentmindedly raised her palm.

Sunlight passed through the gaps in her fingers.

She slowly clasped her hands together, as if trying to... grab hold of the sun.

"I will prove, prove that I can do as well as you, Alvin... no, I will even do better than you."

"If I become stronger than my sister, stronger than Morgan, and you gaze upon me and speak those words."

"Then, could you..."

"...fall in love with me?"

...

"Hubby, our daughter has been born."

The witch laughed strenuously, sweat dripping from her forehead, but she couldn't diminish the joyous light in her eyes.

"Come and name our daughter, my dear, don't be hesitant this time."

Alvin gently kissed the witch, transitioning the inheritance of the shadow magic through a continuous lineage.

"Our adorable daughter is the offspring of a dragon and a fairy."

"So... Melusine Pendragon, that is the name of the union between a dragon and a fairy."

Celebrating the grand birth of the dragon-fairy hybrid.

Alvin released his hand, causing the Firelink Greatsword to slowly float up into the sky.

The deep night curtain of Britain suddenly tore apart, revealing a brilliant and dazzling array of colors.

Aurora.

Light and night, originally incompatible, wove together.

Symbolizing the harmonious love between the dragon and the witch, a crystallization that was originally impossible.

"When you descend like a star at this moment, the entire Britannia is calling your name..."

Silver-haired and curled up in a cradle, the cute and fragile baby, held by the weakened witch, shivered as she was lifted.

Bathed in the dazzling aurora.

"...Melusine Pendragon!"