[A lord's command is a knight's code of conduct.]
[Despite harboring doubts, you still followed Morgan's wishes and arranged the plan.]
[Soon, the citizens of Camelot, spurred on by the agitation, reluctantly but steadily made their way toward the location of the coronation ceremony: King Uther's castle.]
[And you took the opportunity to shed your armor and blend into the crowd.]
[This caused a slight commotion among the people.]
[After all, no one could ignore a young man possessing such a stunningly handsome face.]
[Fortunately, Morgan's intimidating reputation currently weighed heavily on everyone's minds. Many merely noticed you but had no time to pay closer attention.]
[Soon, the time for the coronation ceremony arrived, and the residents of Camelot's royal capital were essentially all present.]
[Then, under everyone's anxious gazes, Morgan's graceful figure appeared on the castle's high balcony, holding a scepter.]
[You noticed a barely perceptible trace of nervousness in Morgan's eyes. Sharing the same blood as her, you couldn't help but feel a little worried.]
Morgan felt very strange at this moment. She couldn't say whether it was joy or nervousness.
She only felt that the sight of tens of thousands of people gathered before her was both incredibly familiar and yet strangely unfamiliar.
Familiar because this very scene had appeared continuously in her dreams once upon a time; unfamiliar because now that she actually had to face it, she didn't know how to speak.
Morgan looked down at the commoners with some hesitation.
Their eyes held either fear or worry, as if she were some man-eating monster.
Seeing these expressions, Morgan's heart couldn't help but ache.
She recalled the words King Uther used to belittle her, and the name "Witch" that was still circulating to this day.
If you want to condemn someone, you can always find a pretext.
Under the manipulations of the great King Uther and the court's great magus Merlin, what resistance could she possibly offer?
"Is this the gift you left for me, Father?"
She muttered to herself, her gaze sweeping somewhat lifelessly over the commoners below.
Suddenly, among the countless faces filled with negative emotions, she saw one that was entirely different.
It was her knight, Lamorak.
Amidst so many doubting gazes, his unique look was so burning, so warming.
Like sunlight piercing through darkness, the painful memories in Morgan's mind dissipated, replaced by the memories of her time with Souya, and the words that sounded like an oath, but felt more like a promise.
"When you become King, I will surely be the first to sing your praises."
Now, she was only one step away. How could she cower?
Taking a deep breath, Morgan composed her emotions and slowly spoke.
"Citizens of Camelot, even if you have never seen me, I imagine you have heard my name."
"Morgan le Fay Pendragon. Princess of Camelot, heir to King Uther, and also the Witch and Enchantress spoken of by bards."
Hearing Morgan publicly admit to those insulting titles, the commoners below were stunned.
Clearly, they hadn't expected this. After all, in their minds, the Witch Morgan was despicable, cruel, and even more domineering than those noble lords.
But now, Morgan's opening words had overturned their preconceived notions. They couldn't help but feel a sliver of curiosity about what she would say next.
Thus, the noisy plaza fell silent. The people's gazes focused on the Princess, whose voice—unaided by Magecraft—echoed in everyone's ears.
"I have no intention of hiding, nor do I wish to hide my goals from you."
"I want to become King. To become the King of the Kingdom of Camelot, to become the King of all Britannia."
"Perhaps you find me laughable, overestimating my own abilities. You might wonder what kind of thoughts a woman like me must harbor to dare attempt to seize a throne that represents honor."
"I am correct, am I not? Citizens of Camelot."
Morgan's tone was flat and devoid of any emotion. Yet it was exactly this emotionless statement that left the residents below speechless, silently lowering their heads.
Yes, Morgan was right. That was exactly what they were thinking.
In the cultural upbringing they received since childhood, the so-called King had to be a strong person, someone with grand talent, bold vision, and far-reaching ambitions. And the prerequisite for all these things was: being male.
No matter how much the Type-Moon universe altered magic and history, no matter how many historical figures Kinoko Nasu turned into girls to satisfy his own fetishes, it couldn't cover up the sorrow hidden behind this medieval setting.
Even the prophesied Child of the Red Dragon, King Arthur, Artoria—who was destined to leave her name in history for eternity—had to present herself as a male before defeating Vortigern and unifying Britain.
She even had to marry Guinevere, another woman, to satisfy the people's expectations. This indirectly led to Lancelot's betrayal, laying the groundwork for the fracturing of the Knights of the Round Table.
But Morgan was different.
She was the Fairy Queen, the Fairy of the Lake, the ruler who governed the British Isle. She would absolutely not deny herself because of worldly criticism. She intended to rightfully become the King of Britain under the name Morgan le Fay.
Whether it brought infamy or notoriety, she was going to become King.
Morgan's speech continued.
"This is not your fault. I know that compared to me, a witch despised by the world, you are looking forward more to the prophesied Child of the Red Dragon."
"But now, as the Vile King is about to conquer all of Britain, ask yourselves: are you truly willing to entrust your lives and your future to that illusory Red Dragon?"
"Have you ever truly considered whether that future King will value your lives so highly? Or will they, like my Father, place honor above all else, even the lives of the people?"
Morgan's words pierced through everyone's hearts like sharp arrows. Yes, they were lost. They were terrified.
They were just ordinary commoners, people oppressed by nobles. They were mere grass that, even after losing family, children, and lovers, still had to pay the price for so-called honor and war.
War and the struggle for power were built upon the corpses of the common folk. That crown, symbolizing glory, was adorned with the blood and bones of countless civilians.
This was especially true in Britain, which was rooted in Celtic culture.
The ceremony grew noisy because of Morgan's words. The people's eyes held anger and sorrow toward the injustice of fate.
But they were just ordinary people. Faced with the torrent of the era, what could they do?
In the end, they would only be reduced to a brief sentence in the history books: "The refugees lost their homes, and the land was left devastated."
[You noticed that everyone's emotions were stirred by Morgan's words.]
[You realized your role had come.]
"Then what about you?"
Souya suddenly shouted from within the crowd. His voice cut through the noisy masses and reached Morgan's ears.
"Since you want to be King, how will you treat us? Will you deceive us with lies like the previous Kings, or make empty promises about the future?!"
Hearing this young man bravely and fearlessly speak out at the risk of his life, the people's emotions became even more turbulent. Several individuals immediately stepped forward.
"That's right! If you want to be King, how will you handle us?!"
"How will you prove you're any different from those Kings who view us as nothing more than grass?!"
"If you can give us a perfect answer, then so what if we acknowledge you as King?!"
"Yeah, that's right! So what if we acknowledge you as King?!"
Morgan's gaze seemingly inadvertently swept over Souya before she answered.
"I cannot give you a guarantee, for I cannot show you the future. However..."
Morgan raised her scepter high. The gemstone atop the scepter reflected the sunlight, highlighting her peerlessly beautiful face, which was as radiant as blossoming flowers yet carried a convincing majesty.
"I swear upon the name of Morgan le Fay, upon the name of the ruler of the British Isle, to grant you the right to 'survive' and 'live' in this chaotic world."
"I will not abandon you for the sake of so-called 'honor' or any high-sounding reasons."
"Believe in me, and acknowledge me as your King. Even if I am a witch, an unforgivable monster, even if the world wants us to perish, I will sacrifice everything I have to protect you!"
"The King shall acknowledge it, the King shall permit it, the King shall bear it!"
"As the King of Camelot, I grant you, and I grant this city, the name of 'Never Falling'!"
Accompanied by Morgan's loud declaration, the Magecraft previously buried outside the walls of the royal capital was activated.
Amidst the shocked cries of the people, Camelot's old stone walls collapsed with a loud crash, kicking up a massive cloud of dust. Replacing them, rising from the smoke, were six towering spires and white city walls reinforced by Magecraft.
"A miracle... this is a miracle!!!"
In the crowd, an old man looked at the scene before him, his eyes welling with tears as he tremblingly knelt toward Morgan.
"This is a miracle! This is the ideal King the heavens have bestowed upon our Camelot!!!"
Like dominoes falling, large swathes of people dropped to their knees. Feeling the sense of security emanating from the city walls and a strange sensation within their bodies, tears welled up in their eyes.
Seeing this, Souya immediately shouted:
"Camelot shall never fall! Long live the King of Camelot!"
With him taking the lead, the people's moved emotions instantly surged even higher.
"Camelot shall never fall! Long live the King of Camelot!" ×N
Feeling the people's faith and sincere worship, the corners of Morgan's eyes somehow grew a little red as well.
After so many years, this ideal, this hope born from childhood, had finally been realized.
Her gaze landed deeply upon Souya. Then, under everyone's watchful eyes, she turned and entered the castle, vanishing from sight.
But even though Morgan had left, the sounds of worship outside remained at a climax, the waves of cheering enduring for a long time.
Looking at the scene before him, Souya's eyes were also full of relief and excitement.
But he didn't linger, similarly disappearing into the crowd.
Thus, the Kingdom of Camelot belonging to Morgan was officially established.
[You successfully assisted Morgan in ascending to the throne, altering the originally determined history.]
[You have therefore completely entered Morgan's heart.]
[The skill 'Protection of the Lake (C+)' has evolved into → 'Protection of the Lake (A)'.]
[Protection of the Lake (A): Protection from the Fairy of the Lake, Morgan. This level indicates that your bond with her is extremely intimate. You are immune to curses and illusionary attacks, and your combat state is enhanced in sacred lakes and freshwater areas.]
At this moment, Souya had no time to bicker with the System.
He arrived inside the castle and saw Morgan standing with her back to him in front of the throne. Before he could speak, Morgan threw herself into his arms.
Immediately following that was a soft and sweet sensation on his lips. It was the taste of Morgan.
After the kiss, the two stood embracing each other.
Souya quietly looked at Morgan. He could feel her wildly beating heart, as well as the excitement and trace of affection in her eyes.
"Starting tomorrow, this throne will no longer belong to my father."
Morgan's jade hands hooked around Souya's neck as she spoke softly.
"This is the victory you deserve, Princess—no, my Queen."
Souya placed his hands on Morgan's waist. Feeling the softness of her skin, his body grew a bit restless.
Since that day, it had been a month since they had been intimate.
Seemingly sensing his agitation, the corners of Morgan's mouth curled up slightly.
"Lamorak."
"I am here, my Queen."
"I command you, serve me."
"As you command, my Queen."
The two kissed again as Souya pressed Morgan down onto the throne.
This was his well-deserved reward as well.