Night fell.
The banquet began as scheduled.
Of course—
there weren't many attendees.
Arthur, Roger, and Garp.
Strictly speaking, this wasn't much of a banquet at all—it was more like a small gathering between the three of them.
"Hahahaha~~~!"
Roger burst out laughing.
"I never would've dreamed I'd be drinking with you, Garp! This is hilarious! Absolutely hilarious!"
"Tch!"
Garp clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Don't act like I want to drink with you. Try stepping out of Britannia and see what happens!"
"Ha!"
"I'm not leaving!"
"What are you gonna do about it?"
"Bet that pisses you off!"
Roger's shameless grin made even Arthur shake his head.
Honestly… it was infuriating.
It was hard to imagine that the man who would one day become the Pirate King—the one who would single-handedly usher in the Great Pirate Era—was acting like this, squabbling with Garp like some rookie pirate.
"Damn it!"
Garp couldn't help but curse.
"Roger, you're seriously unbearable!"
Roger, however, remained completely calm.
"Yeah, I know. I'm just that annoying. What are you gonna do about it?"
Garp's teeth itched with frustration.
But what could he do?
There was nothing he could do.
In the end, he could only growl,
"Roger, you bastard! This isn't over!"
"Yeah, yeah~~~"
Roger smacked his lips dismissively, looking completely unfazed.
That attitude—
honestly—
was enough to make Garp's temper explode.
His aura even began to grow heavier.
But the moment he remembered he couldn't act in Britannia, Garp forced himself to calm down, rubbing his forehead as he grumbled,
"Roger… at least act like a decent human being. You're giving me a headache."
"Hahahaha~~~!"
Roger laughed loudly again.
The two of them looked less like mortal enemies and more like old friends constantly bickering.
Arthur watched the scene with amusement.
To outsiders, it might be impossible to understand why these two acted like this.
But those who truly understood—
knew exactly what this meant.
In the future, Roger would entrust his own son to Garp.
That alone spoke volumes.
They were enemies—
but also something more.
Something close to friends… even kindred spirits.
Otherwise, Roger would never have made such a decision.
"You two are… quite something," Arthur said thoughtfully. "It's actually rather interesting."
"Tch!"
"Him?"
"Hmph!"
Both men scoffed at each other in unison, clearly irritated.
Arthur chuckled and shook his head.
This was just who they were.
Nothing strange about it.
Before long—
the gathering came to an end.
It wasn't a bad thing.
It simply concluded, naturally.
As time passed, Garp and Roger each departed.
Left alone in the hall, Arthur's lips curled into a faint smile.
"Arthur."
Kay leaned against the doorway, speaking with interest.
"Those two are fascinating. Rivals, yet also something like friends. That kind of relationship… is rare."
Arthur nodded slightly.
"Indeed. They're opponents—but also old companions. For people like them… even in death, they'd entrust their final matters to each other."
"That's true."
Kay agreed without hesitation.
"Anyway—"
Arthur stood and slowly walked toward the window.
Outside, even in the dead of night, Volcano City remained brightly lit.
Looking out over the city, Arthur spoke softly:
"The war… is about to begin."
"This will be the most important war Britannia has ever faced."
His eyes narrowed.
"If we win…"
He knew this clearly.
If Britannia emerged victorious from this war—
then its future would be secured.
There would be no more uncertainty.
No more instability.
"Haah…"
Letting out a slow breath, Arthur murmured,
"If we win this war, Britannia will gain several years or perhaps even over a decade of uninterrupted growth."
"And with time… Britannia will only grow stronger."
"Heh…"
Kay chuckled lightly.
"Arthur, don't be so tense. Even if we fail, we've already done everything we could."
"No."
Arthur's expression turned serious.
"Brother Kay… I cannot afford to fail."
"In Britannia stand all our people—everything we've built."
"Behind me are countless lives."
"I will not allow myself to fail."
"Arthur…"
Kay sighed softly.
He had once thought that in this new world, Arthur might have changed.
But now he understood—
Arthur was still the same.
The perfect King Arthur.
Only—
this time, there were no shackles.
Arthur continued, his voice unwavering:
"It's not that I can't accept failure."
"But if I fail here… what happens to those behind me?"
"Our people. Our knights. Our family."
"They will die—miserably."
"Neptune entrusted Fish-Man Island to me. If I fail, what happens to the Fish-Men?"
"They will suffer even more than before."
"That…"
"Is something I will never accept."
His gaze burned with determination.
Arthur was not someone incapable of accepting defeat.
But this—
this was different.
Behind him were the lives of countless people.
Their hopes.
Their homes.
Their futures.
He could not fail.
Perhaps others would laugh.
Wasn't a king supposed to be a tyrant?
Free to act on his own will?
Yes—
in Arthur's own understanding, a king could be such a figure.
But at the same time—
everything he possessed had been entrusted to him by his people.
He could not abandon them.
Clench.
Arthur's fist tightened, his aura growing sharp.
"If being a tyrant is wrong…"
"If being a wise king is wrong…"
"Then I will become both."
"I will not allow failure to come to Britannia."
"That kind of failure—"
"is unacceptable."
"Heh…"
Kay suddenly laughed.
How should he put it?
Arthur had changed.
Perhaps not on the surface—
but fundamentally.
This Arthur was no longer the flawless, almost sacred king of the past.
Instead—
he had become something more complete.
Like a god who had finally gained humanity.
And that…
was something Kay found deeply gratifying.
"Arthur."
Then, with rare seriousness, Kay spoke:
"My King."
"Have you truly made your decision?"
Arthur nodded without hesitation.
"Of course."
"Whether tyrant or sage king—it doesn't matter."
"I will become the one and only King Arthur."
"The king of Britannia."
"—and its god."
"…."
Kay looked at him deeply.
For the first time—
he realized something.
Arthur's path had never been predetermined fate.
It was a choice.
His own choice.
In the past, Kay had always disliked Arthur's destiny.
Because in his eyes—
Arthur had never chosen any of it.
He had simply been pushed forward by fate.
A king not by desire—
but by inevitability.
A puppet guided by destiny.
That was why Kay had distanced himself.
Stepping away from his role as bodyguard.
Stepping away from governance.
He couldn't bear to watch his younger brother walk that path.
In fact—
he had once believed that Arthur's death might not even be a bad thing.
If everything was dictated by fate—
then perhaps it was better for it all to end.
And yet—
he had been summoned into this world.
At first, he had no intention of remaining in Britannia.
But gradually—
he realized something.
Arthur had changed.
Morgan had changed.
Everyone had changed.
They were no longer bound by the script of a story.
They had stepped beyond it.
That was why Kay stayed.
To see it for himself.
And now—
he truly understood.
Arthur was no longer that perfect, untouchable king.
He was greedy.
Ambitious.
Driven.
He desired power.
But,
to Kay—
that wasn't a flaw.
It was proof.
Proof that Arthur had become human.
And that—
was the greatest joy of all.
"Arthur…"
"My King…"
A wide smile spread across Kay's face.
No matter what kind of king Arthur became—
this time, he had chosen it himself.
And that was all Kay had ever wanted.
Meanwhile—
Arthur gazed into the distance, his expression resolute.
Once—
he had been filled with doubt.
He was a transmigrator.
A reincarnated soul.
Just an ordinary person.
Was he truly qualified to inherit all of this?
Was he truly worthy of becoming this king?
Those questions had haunted him for a long time.
But as time passed—
he grew stronger.
He awakened the power of the Red Dragon bloodline again and again.
He summoned the Knights of the Round Table.
And with it—
he inherited the memories of the true King Arthur.
Gradually—
the lines blurred.
Was he King Arthur?
Or was he still himself?
Who… was he, really?
In fact—
he could no longer even clearly remember his previous life.
Even his own name—
it felt distant.
Faint.
As if it had never truly belonged to him.
It was strange.
He seemed to remember everything—
and yet, at the same time, nothing at all.
Over time—
a hypothesis formed in his mind.
Not yet complete.
Not yet certain.
But one day—
he believed he would understand.
No matter what—
"I…"
"am Arthur."
"The one and only King Arthur."
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