Arthur's Castle, Training Grounds.
The sound of clashing metal echoed through the air. In the same breath, Arthur delivered a swift kick to Artoria's abdomen, sending her stumbling back several paces.
Since they were in Arthur's private training grounds, the castle was populated entirely by maidservants. Consequently, Artoria wasn't clad in her usual heavy armor. She wore a form-fitting knight's tunic that dipped slightly at the neckline; the force of the kick sent a visible ripple through her impressively developed figure.
Artoria let out a muffled groan. She instinctively tried to lunge forward with her spear to reclaim the advantage against her brother, but in the next second, the cold tip of the Sword in the Stone was pressed firmly against her throat.
"I lose."
Artoria lowered her spear, her expression a mask of dejection.
"I still can't beat you, Brother."
Over three months had passed since the Selection Rite had concluded.
Ever since that day in Avalon with Mery, that "succubus" had taken to crawling into his bed almost every night. She even made frequent appearances under his desk while he was working, doing her best to lead him astray.
Meanwhile, because she had claimed Rhongomyniad, Artoria's Red Dragon bloodline had been fully awakened. She was beginning to transition toward a non-human state under the influence of the Holy Lance, and her strength had improved by leaps and bounds. Though she still couldn't defeat Arthur, there wasn't a single person left in the knighthood who could stand against her. As a result, she sought Arthur out for sparring sessions every single day.
Combined with the administrative duties that were piling up as winter approached, Arthur's life over the past two months had become a repetitive cycle: sleeping with Mery, sparring with Artoria, and working. Mealtime had become his only true period of rest.
He usually ate with Bedivere, Kay, and Artoria. Mery occasionally tried to join the meal from under the table, but after Arthur put her over his knee and gave her a proper discipline session, she had behaved herself—mostly.
"Don't be discouraged," Arthur said, sheathing his sword. "You still have plenty of room to grow. Unlike your brother, who's reached a point where I don't even know how to get any stronger."
"Ugh! Brother, you're so annoying! I just want to bite you to death!"
Watching the teeth-gnashing Artoria—who showed absolutely no signs of losing her "humanity" just yet—Arthur laughed and accepted a towel from Bedivere, who had approached from the sidelines.
As his court steward, Bedivere now lived in the castle alongside Artoria. Aside from the hours spent sleeping or bathing, she was practically inseparable from him.
"Is there anything urgent?" Arthur asked.
"No, Sire."
Bedivere's gaze was filled with unabashed adoration. "Your Majesty truly is growing stronger by the day."
"Your own strength has improved quite a bit lately as well."
According to Mery, Arthur pulling the sword was akin to inserting a "key" into a locking gate of Mystery, prying it open and forcing the gap to widen. Simply put, with the withdrawal of the Sword in the Stone, the Mystery that was supposed to vanish from the planet's surface was being revived. The mana density in the air was rising, and everyone's physical capabilities were enhancing as a result.
"But compared to Your Majesty and Lily, I am still far behind," Bedivere murmured.
"I am the King, and Lily is the commander of the guard responsible for my safety. We both require overwhelming martial force as our foundation. As a court steward, you needn't worry about such things."
Arthur reached out and ruffled Bedivere's hair.
After becoming King, his perspective on those around him had shifted. Previously, Bedivere had been a "goddess-like" figure in his mind; now, while he still found her incredibly endearing, she no longer felt unattainable.
She was less of a distant goddess and more of a devoted, reliable aide. She would still blush at the slightest tease, but she followed his every command perfectly.
If it weren't for Mery "draining" him twenty-four hours a day, Arthur felt Bedivere would have probably given him three children by now. But because Mery was so clingy, his relationship with Bedivere remained a relatively simple superior-subordinate dynamic.
Artoria, who had just finished wiping her sweat and was taking a large gulp of wine from her personal maid, suddenly shoved the towel and the bottle back to her servant. She marched over and looked up at Arthur.
"Brother, me too!"
Arthur couldn't help but look down.
Mery was right.
Less than three months had passed, and he had no idea how Artoria was growing so fast. Not only was she a full head taller than before—now only half a head shorter than him—but her figure had transformed. She had gone from being relatively flat-chested to a solid "E-cup" in months, and she was still growing. The future Mery predicted—where two hands wouldn't be enough to hold her—seemed entirely plausible.
"Lily, you're not a child anymore," Arthur said with a helpless look. "What adult asks their brother for a head-pat?"
He forced himself to look away from her chest.
Perhaps as the body grows, the mind matures? Or maybe it's because she knows we aren't blood-related now?
Regardless, Artoria's behavior had changed. In public, she was modest, wrapping herself tightly in armor or form-fitting knightly attire that left nothing to the imagination.
But inside this castle, which was staffed entirely by women, Artoria was constantly showing off her legs or her chest. During their sparring sessions, that neckline was practically a non-existent barrier.
"Brother! Do you not love me anymore?"
Artoria looked at him with stubborn, aggrieved eyes. She tilted her head up with a "pat me or I'll cry right here" expression. Arthur wondered which "bastard" had taught her that look.
With Bedivere giggling behind her hand, Arthur gave his sister two perfunctory pats on the head. Seeing her about to protest the half-heartedness of it, he quickly cut her off: "Alright, that's enough. Let's go eat."
At the word "eat," Artoria's eyes lit up instantly. Her dissatisfaction vanished into thin air.
Perhaps it's this love for food that allows her to "grow" so much? Arthur thought to himself.
He, Bedivere, and Artoria left the training grounds. When they reached the dining hall, the maids had already laid out the evening meal, and Kay was already seated.
"Anything happen today?" Arthur asked.
After three months of hard work, he had cleared the mountain of backlogged paperwork. Although the workload was increasing again with the onset of winter, he could usually finish everything in about an hour by listening to reports from Bedivere and Kay.
"Mostly trivial nonsense," Kay replied, her tone irritable. "Noble A and Knight B got into a scuffle over a woman, or some mother-in-law was caught having an affair with her son-in-law and killed her husband... The only thing of note is that the magical beast activity is becoming increasingly abnormal."
Kay was stressed.
She had been fine while learning administration from her foster father and Lucan. But as things improved, Arthur had begun showing signs of being a "hands-off" boss. He talked about establishing something called a "Cabinet" and making her the "Grand Secretary."
The result was that every single matter was dumped on her desk first. She had to process everything and then present the results—along with her recommended solutions—to Arthur for a final look.
If the matters were important, she wouldn't mind, but most of it was petty bickering. It made her want to drag the nobles and knights, who seemed to have nothing but women on their minds, out to the courtyard and behead the lot of them.
"Have you found the cause?" Arthur's expression turned serious.
Winter was nearly here. Usually, powerful magical beasts would be preparing for hibernation by now.
But this year, the beasts around Camelot showed no signs of slowing down. On the contrary, they were becoming more active—even more aggressive than they were during their spring mating season. Recently, there had been several reports of beasts charging onto main roads to attack travelers or even storming into towns to go on rampages.
Despite Arthur sending knights into the forests every two days to cull them, the number of beasts and the frequency of attacks weren't decreasing; they were visibly rising.
"Nothing yet," Kay sighed. "Only confirmation that the concentration of beasts around Camelot is growing, and more are migrating toward us from other regions."
"Even putting aside why they're acting so strange, our food supply for the winter is a major concern."
Between the previous wars, bandits, and the negligence of local lords, much of the land had gone uncultivated. Now, the magical beasts were destroying what little was left. With the front lines requiring massive amounts of grain, the harvest was definitely not going to be enough to sustain the common folk through the winter.
"We'll have to send more knights to hunt them," Arthur decided. "Change the rotation from every five days to every three. Artoria and I will also take a group into the mountains to hunt over the next couple of days."
"That's all we can do." Kay sighed, looking exhausted.
She truly wondered what she had done to deserve this. Her brother had pulled the sword and become King, yet she—the formerly spoiled eldest daughter who spent her days playing and loafing around—had been transformed into a political rising star on the verge of dying from overwork.
Arthur looked at Kay's pained expression and felt a bit awkward. Words of comfort were on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't know how to say them. The main problem was his lack of trustworthy, capable personnel.
Aside from Lucan and Ector, most of those who had sworn fealty to him were meatheads with plenty of brawn but no brains. He didn't dare put the rest in positions of real power.
Bedivere wasn't suited for civil administration—her own brother had confirmed that, which was why he had recommended her for the role of court steward instead.
Artoria was out of the question. If you asked her to kill someone, she was the most enthusiastic person in the room; if you asked her to process a document, she'd probably suffer a mental breakdown on the spot.
Ector was getting on in years.
Lucan, Bedivere's brother, was trustworthy and capable, but he didn't possess Arthur's tireless physical stamina. He couldn't be expected to handle everything.
The only one left who was both completely trustworthy and genuinely competent was Kay. Following the management philosophy of a "future ruler," Arthur adhered to the principle: "If they're useful, use them until they break."
"Oh, I just remembered! My brother told me to inform you of something very important!" Bedivere suddenly spoke up, breaking the silence.
Bedivere, you are truly my angel! Arthur thought.
"What is it?"
"My brother received word from Orkney this afternoon. King Lot plans to send an embassy to discuss border issues and future... arrangements."
"That? Just let your brother handle it," Arthur said dismissively.
He knew that a war between himself and the other Celtic Kings was inevitable. This had become increasingly clear to him since taking the throne. He didn't see much point in talking.
His goal was centralized authority.
For now, he was playing the part of the harmless, cooperative ruler because he lacked the strength to do otherwise.
But in a year or two, once internal unification was complete and he had the power, he had no intention of following the typical medieval script where lords and kings only provided troops and grain during wartime in exchange for total autonomy.
If he allowed that, even if Mordred never rebelled, someone else would the moment he suffered a single defeat or was away on a long campaign.
He planned to unify the script, standardize the currency, and ban local minting to prevent local economies from rivaling the central government. Naturally, the lords who were used to living like independent sovereigns wouldn't agree.
Even the Roman Empire hadn't fully achieved such a feat. Arthur didn't think it would be easy.
However, compared to Rome, he had two distinct advantages.
First, Britain was an island separated from the mainland.
If he tried this on the continent, he would be attacked by everyone at once. Europe wasn't like his "homeland"—there, you had the ocean to the east, frozen tundra to the north, toxic jungles to the south, and high mountains to the west. Once the Central Plains were unified, there were no enemies capable of truly rivaling a massive empire.
Here was different. Even if you unified Europe, Asia, and Africa, enemies would still pour in from all directions. Because the landmass was too large, effective management was impossible, leading to endless wars.
Furthermore, this place lacked the cultural foundation of his homeland. There, the groundwork had been laid since the Shang and Zhou dynasties, and then solidified by the First Emperor. If he tried his reforms on the continent, he'd end up like Napoleon—facing wave after wave of external enemies while trying to suppress internal rebellion.
But in Britain, he could use absolute force to implement these changes. The kings on the mainland were too busy fighting over the remains of the Roman Empire to care about him.
And with Britain as his starting point, backed by the sea, he could gradually expand his influence into Northern Europe and Gaul, pushing his policies step by step until he established an empire with a unified script, language, and economy.
This brought him to his second advantage.
With the revival of the Red Dragon heart and the power of Rhongomyniad and the Selection Sword, his body was being reconstructed. He was gaining nearly infinite lifespan.
Arthur was prepared to spend a hundred, or even several hundred years, to achieve his goals, allowing people to gradually accept a unified empire over generations.
He believed that eventually, the prosperity of his nation would lead the people of other regions to want to join his country!
In short, negotiations with other kings and lords were just a formality for now. Unless absolutely necessary, Arthur had little interest in showing his face.
"But this envoy is very special," Bedivere added. "Your Majesty must meet them personally."
"Who is it? Gawain?"
"No... it's your sister."
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