"Merlin, you set me up!"
That was the only thought running through Lancelot's mind as he watched Artoria's movements. His expression darkened as he shouted at Merlin.
You called me here, only to have this pint-sized knight ambush me?
You old fraud!
Merlin, for his part, looked genuinely innocent.
Since when has my disciple met Lancelot?
And why is there already bad blood between them?
Before he could ponder further, Artoria and Lancelot had already clashed.
Their swords met with a resounding crash.
Neither hesitated both swung with full force, testing each other's strength.
And both immediately recognized the other's skill.
"Strong."
Artoria's arms tingled from the impact.
If anyone had been weakened the most by Morgan becoming king, it was undoubtedly Artoria.
In another timeline, she would already be the king bearing Britain's hopes.
But now?
Eating is just too good.
Though her fighting spirit hadn't diminished, her strength was slightly inferior to what it should have been.
Against Lancelot, she could already feel her arms aching.
Meanwhile, Lancelot though holding the advantage was equally shocked.
Britain truly is a land of hidden dragons and crouching tigers.
First that knight from before, and now this tiny one who looks like a girl both so strong.
And she was still young. She would only grow stronger.
Just how powerful will she become at her peak?
Aside from Lot, every single person I've met in Britain can fight!
He could defeat Artoria but it would take time.
The sound of their battle was deafening, like thunder on a clear day.
The commotion not only sent bystanders fleeing but also reached the ears of Galahad, who had been questioning Morgan about Lancelot's whereabouts in the palace.
He looked outside.
Huh?!
Lancelot is right there!
After hastily apologizing to Morgan, he rushed to the battlefield to reinforce Artoria.
And, more importantly, to righteously beat up Lancelot.
Yeah.
This feels good.
Soon, he joined the fray.
Not long after, Kay upon hearing the news also charged in to aid his "sworn brother."
Thus began the legendary Three Heroes Battle the Long River (1).
[Galahad's going all out no holding back at all.]
[Kay, where the hell are you aiming?! That's not a place you should hit wait, no, you're Artoria's brother, so go ahead.]
[Artoria, hurry up and blast Lancelot with your invincible Excalibur!]
Watching Lot pull out a strange cylindrical object from his robes and commentate on the battle below, Morgan couldn't even muster the energy to complain.
This guy really has too much free time.
Still, today's coincidence was fortunate.
If Lancelot hadn't shown up, she'd have had a hard time explaining things to Galahad.
She shot Lot an exasperated glance before returning to her paperwork.
As for the battle's outcome?
Three against one.
If they lose, we might as well give up.
Right now, she had more pressing matters like preparing for the northern campaign.
Military provisions needed double-checking.
And then there were the nobles.
Lot thought she couldn't handle them?
Just wait. I'll wipe them all out in one go and give him the shock of his life.
A smug smile tugged at her lips.
Meanwhile, Lot watched as the battle reached its conclusion.
Lancelot, overwhelmed by the trio's assault, was visibly struggling.
Realizing he couldn't win, he decided to retreat.
His gaze landed on Merlin, still standing off to the side.
He's a mage. His close combat skills should be weak.
Plus, this mess is his fault anyway.
Payback's due.
Lancelot wasn't petty but Merlin had pushed him.
Seeing Lancelot charge at him, Merlin blinked in confusion.
What did I do?!
I'm just standing here!
Still, he didn't underestimate the attack.
With a flick of his sleeve, he drew his sword and parried Lancelot's strikes with practiced ease.
Their blades clashed rapidly, but Lancelot couldn't break through.
By then, Galahad and the others had caught up, cutting off his escape.
Before being cornered, Lancelot stared at Merlin in disbelief.
"You you're a mage! How are you this good with a sword?!"
Behind him, Artoria sighed.
"Merlin may be a mage, but he's also my swordsmanship teacher."
"..."
Lancelot was speechless.
Merlin, meanwhile, tilted his head and gave a playful "Ehe~" smile.
To Lancelot, it was the most infuriating sight in the world.
This damn fraud.
And thus, another Round Table knight's opinion of Merlin plummeted into the negatives.
"Why do you hate me so much?"
Lancelot's question wasn't new he'd asked it multiple times now, staring at Galahad, who kept eyeing him with undisguised hostility.
He genuinely couldn't recall ever meeting the boy before.
"Some people inspire hatred at first sight. Like you."
Galahad's usual honesty vanished when facing Lancelot, replaced by sharp-tongued venom.
Besides, how could he explain his origins?
This version of Lancelot hasn't even met my mother yet.
How would he know I exist?
So he simply claimed it was instinctive dislike.
Kay, standing nearby, gave Galahad a strange look.
This kid's usually so earnest. Why's he acting like this now?
Lancelot, however, wasn't fooled.
"Knights shouldn't lie. Your hatred isn't baseless you have a reason. Tell me. Even if I'm despised, I deserve to know why."
He wasn't stupid. His instincts were sharp.
Galahad's evasion only confirmed his suspicions.
"I... can't say. You'll understand when the time comes."
Galahad's vague answer frustrated Lancelot further.
"Do you have any idea how infuriating that is?!"
"Whose kid even are you?!"
Just then, Morgan and Lot arrived.
Morgan took one look at the scene and understood immediately.
Carrying Gawain had softened her somewhat, filling her with maternal sympathy for Galahad.
"This child still won't reveal his origins to his father?"
She turned to Lancelot.
"Sir Lancelot, as our prisoner, interrogating my knights is rather presumptuous. I haven't even questioned you yet."
Her interruption saved Galahad from further awkwardness.
He shot her a grateful look.
"Her Majesty knows the truth. She's protecting my secret."
Lot's identical expression went unnoticed.
Of course he knows Morgan must have told him.
Lancelot, however, scoffed.
"Three no, four against one. Is this victory really worth boasting about?"
(He'd almost forgotten Merlin, who had long since vanished.)
Kay and Artoria flushed at the jab.
Galahad, however, remained unrepentant.
Since when do sons need honor when fighting their fathers?
As for Morgan and Lot?
They've fired black arrows in battle. You think they care about "honor"?
"Setting aside fairness, I want to know who you are. All I have is your name Lancelot."
"I am Lancelot, a knight from France."
His answer was curt.
Morgan's next question, however, caught him off guard.
"How old are you?"
"Twenty."
Morgan's expression twisted.
Twenty?!
And Galahad is, at most, seven or eight.
Yet he's already one of Britain's strongest knights.
What kind of monster is this?!
Seeing her reaction, Lancelot assumed the worst.
"If you plan to execute me, just do it."
His tone was defiant.
Morgan and Lot exchanged confused glances.
Why would we kill you?
"Will you swear allegiance to us?"
Lancelot's morals might be questionable, but his strength was undeniable.
And even if it weren't, keeping him around would ensure Galahad's loyalty.
"Forcing people into service? I refuse."
Morgan frowned.
"You won't reconsider?"
"No."
"Fine. Tie him up and starve him for a few days. Let's see if he changes his mind."
"What?!"
Lancelot was aghast.
I'm a knight! A noble!
You can't do this!
His pleading eyes found no sympathy in Lot, Kay, or Galahad.
Artoria hesitated but one warning glance from Morgan silenced her.
"Beg for mercy, and I'll starve you instead."
Faced with the choice between Lancelot's hunger and her own, Artoria took all of three seconds to decide.
"Knights endure. You'll be fine."
And so, under Lancelot's betrayed stare, he was dragged away.
Galahad watched with undisguised satisfaction.
As long as Lancelot wasn't in mortal danger, any suffering was well deserved.
Artoria, still uneasy, changed the subject.
"Your Majesty, Merlin played a key role in capturing Lancelot. Shouldn't we reward him?"
"Oh, absolutely."
Lot struggled to keep a straight face.
[Pretty sure the white-haired scammer got played by his own student.]
Morgan's smirk mirrored his thoughts.
Good. We're on the same wavelength.
With Lancelot dealt with, preparations for the northern campaign began in earnest.
Morgan and Lot mapped out their strategy.
First priority: expanding their territory.
The key to Camelot's northern front lay in Lot's domain Orkney.
A hub for land and sea routes, it was the perfect staging ground for attacks on Scotland or retreats into England.
And thanks to Lot's efforts, Orkney was an impenetrable fortress.
Securing it was non-negotiable.
From there, they would sweep through all opposition.
With Vortigern still recovering, they could push his forces back into Wales, setting the stage for their next move.
The plan finalized, the army mobilized.
Lot assembled three hundred knights and six thousand soldiers.
Not a massive force, but their elite fighters more than compensated.
Galahad and Artoria were top-tier.
And then there was Merlin.
Lot knew the mage would scheme if left unsupervised.
So he dragged him along no objections allowed.
Merlin's protests fell on deaf ears.
And thus, the army marched north, with Merlin riding at the front next to a bound Lancelot.
"Believe me, I'm innocent," Merlin said with a wink.
Lancelot's only response was a venomous glare.
Morgan had assigned Merlin to guard duty, knowing Lancelot wouldn't trust any escape attempt.
"If he runs, he'll assume it's my trap anyway."
A straightforward knight might have fled.
But Lancelot?
Too paranoid.
Days into the march, they encountered another army.
Not an enemy, though this group carried gifts, not weapons.
At their head strode a man with striking red hair, a harp in hand, and an air of perpetual sorrow.