Chapter 66: Ahoge: The Chalk-White City Doesn't Support Idlers!
This was indeed a grand competition. But it wasn't a competition of who was stronger, but who was weaker.
Under the premise that "everyone didn't want to be matched with Morgan as a teammate," these heroic Round Table Knights, who could even fight magical beasts hand-to-hand, put on a rather clumsy performance in this great hall.
The Knight of the Sun's holy sword was no longer steady in his hand. The ferocious and brave she-wolf also became timid. The taciturn Gaheris and the steady and prudent Agravain looked at each other—they both hit each other and then fainted on the ground. Only Mordred, who couldn't find an opponent, was there, shouting exaggeratedly—she was already prepared to raise her weapon and once again launch a rebellion against her beautiful father-king.
What, you ask about Lancelot, who is also a Heroic Spirit? No, he wouldn't. In this situation, no one would notice him.
"Enough!"
Finally, as this "glorious" knightly duel gradually turned into a farce, Morgan, who was sitting next to Artoria, finally couldn't help but scold.
"Mordred—"
This was the first time she had called her name. But for some reason, she said it so smoothly. Whether it was the speed, tone, or intonation, it was all quite natural, and even carried a kind of lioness's low roar-like momentum.
"Ah, Mother—"
Like a little lion cub suddenly being grabbed by the scruff of its neck by a lioness, Mordred, who had just been baring her fangs and brandishing her claws, as if she wanted to "make a big scene," instantly shivered.
This was a very magical sight—the rebellious knight could actually be so honest for a day? But thinking about it carefully, it seemed to be within reason: Mordred's rebellion was against her "beautiful father-king," but she never dared to defy Morgan's orders.
"You, get over here, Mordred!"
"Alright, Mother, I'm rolling over right now!"
There would be no hesitation at all. To be even a second late would be disrespecting her own life. In fact, to better suit Morgan's wishes, she really did lie on the ground and "roll" over.
—But no one laughed at her.
At this moment, even Gawain, who hated her the most, looked at this youngest sister of his with a very pitiful gaze—although Gawain never thought of her as his sister, and Mordred never thought of that gorilla as her brother.
"Alright, please the remaining knights team up with each other—you have one hour of free team formation time. Please tell me the final result after breakfast is over."
...
An uneasy breakfast. Besides the already-decided Mash and the "forced love" Mordred by her mother, the remaining Round Table Knights began to talk in low voices, looking for their ideal "teammate" in their hearts.
—But in fact, the final result was more or less already decided from the very beginning.
The so-called "everyone is equal" Round Table Knights were actually divided into many factions—this was a well-known fact, and Artoria had never intended to hide this matter. Although everyone had indeed gathered together for the same wish and had jointly formed this "Round Table Knights," it would be abnormal if there were no factions, right?
"To save Britain"—these knights had gathered together for this noble wish, but everyone had a different definition of "saving," and had different views on the method of "saving Britain":
"Sir Bedivere, are you willing to team up with me?"
"Of course, Sir Gawain."
The first to complete the team formation were Gawain and Bedivere. —These two were staunch "royalists," the kind of Round Table Knights who "supported whatever decision the king made."
"Sir Tristan?"
"Oh, Sir Lancelot, I can feel that you and I share the same fate... that same fate of withering because of a lady. That is truly sad."
The two Round Table Knights, who shared the same fate and "hobbies," also reached a consensus in almost an instant. This made the abandoned Kay a little dissatisfied.
—Clearly, everyone had said they would be good brothers for life when they were happy in the tavern yesterday. How could they have abandoned him in the blink of an eye?
"Um... Sir Kay..."
"You, can a little girl do it well?"
"Of course, no problem, Sir Kay!"
Faced with Kay's questioning gaze, Gareth instantly stood at attention... Familiar, this feeling was so familiar, it was almost as if it had returned to the past!
—At the very beginning, when she was not yet a Round Table Knight, she had worked under him. To be precise, she was responsible for "cooking the big pot" in the restaurant. She had also obtained the title of "Beautiful Hands" because of this.
...
Breakfast time was over. The last two groups of Round Table Knights also successfully completed their team formation.
The combination of Lamorak and Agravain could also be said to be a classic among classics. One was in charge of the kingdom's criminal justice, and the other was in charge of the execution of the kingdom's laws. They could be called the "disliked by all" duo.
As for the combination of Bors and Gaheris... it could only be said that, as the little transparents in the Round Table Knights, both of them possessed a kind of temperament called "go with the flow," "can be with anyone," and thus had naturally come together.
"Very good, it seems everyone has already found a satisfactory teammate. Then I won't say much more nonsense. Below are the rules for the first stage of the competition—in the next month, I need you to help each other and jointly complete the work you should complete. The ability of a truly outstanding knight should not only be reflected in military force, but more so in the ability to work. And Guinevere will grade your work—the group with the highest score will win this stage. Correspondingly, the group with the lowest score will be punished. Alright, let's begin. My chalk-white city does not support idlers."
The king said this very readily, and then turned and left the room, leaving behind the stunned, looking-at-each-other knights—and Mash Kyrielight, whose eyes were wide open, her face showing a trace of expectation.
"Um..."
Just as everyone was getting up and preparing to start today's work, Mash pulled on Shiroryu's sleeve and asked quietly, "Can I also participate in the work?"
Chapter 67: New Wings
In the chalk-white city, in the Shrine of Light, the temple that had been very lively yesterday was suddenly quiet today.
No one came to disturb, no one came to pray, and no one made any more reprimands like "get out"—
"So boring."
Vena lay on the stone table in the garden, lazily sunbathing on one side, and gently tapping the surface of the stone table with her fingers on the other, making a crisp sound.
"That little girl is really stupid enough... that was clearly a trap, yet she jumped in with joy."
Recalling the excited scene of Mash rushing out with a "wow—" as if there was a piece of gold waiting for her to pick up, Vena couldn't help but sigh at the vitality of young people, and the fact that she was indeed old.
No money, working for free, just to experience the joy of work—even the other Round Table Knights, when faced with such an energetic little girl, couldn't help but shake their heads and exclaim in their hearts, "too much competition."
And Shiroryu was a little surprised.
"You can actually see that this is a trap?"
He looked at this only "vassal" of his—he hadn't seen it, that this woman who had dared to cut Scáthach with a knife before had unknowingly grown into a "strategist" type of character?
"Please, Lord Dragon God. I'm just not as smart as you guys—but that absolutely doesn't mean I'm a fool, okay."
Vena, lying on the table, raised her head slightly and rolled her eyes at him.
"Clearly, this is that king disciplining her vassals... hmph hmph, what a bunch of stupid knights. Just for that completely worthless title, they are being played around, and are even going to fight to the death."
Vena saw through the mystery in one sentence.
Yes, a title—or rather, "honor."
This thing that was worthless in her eyes was more important than their lives to those Round Table Knights. No one wanted to lose, especially those Round Table Knights who had grudges with each other. They wished they could step on their mortal enemy and never let him get up again.
Of course, Artoria's ultimate goal was definitely not to let these Round Table Knights decide a real winner. As a king, her purpose had always been only one—that is, to maintain the stability of the entire knightly order and the entire country.
Vena knew this very well, so even if she didn't understand Artoria's methods, she could still know that this was a trap, and that those Round Table Knights would be played around by their king.
—But this was actually not important.
That was a matter between Artoria and her vassals. Vena didn't care, and it was absolutely not her place to care. Now, the only thing that could really make her care was actually only one.
"Lord Dragon God."
Vena's body left the stone table, no longer maintaining that lazy appearance from before. Instead, she sat upright, showing a very serious, and at the same time, a very sad look.
"Did something happen, which is why you are preparing to leave?"
...
This time, he was really surprised. He swore that he had never revealed any thought of "I'm leaving" to her—he hadn't even mentioned it. But she had very keenly sensed it.
Who had revealed this matter to her? Or had she comprehended it from some minor details herself?
"Just think about it and you'll know, right? Those Heroic Spirits wouldn't appear in this world for no reason. And their relationship with Morgan is so close—yet this world has no trace of their existence at all. And what Mash said, those things that happened one thousand five hundred years later. Connecting these things... even Fou would know that there's a problem with this era, this country, right?"
Vena looked at the little white beast on his shoulder and greeted it a little impolitely.
"Fou! (Stupid woman)—"
"Fou fou fou fou! (I knew about this long ago!)"
Fou barked at her with some dissatisfaction. In fact, this little white beast had known about the problem with him long ago—second only to Merlin. But what could it do? It couldn't talk!
...
Ignoring the little white beast's protest, he and Vena looked at each other. Vena stared at his eyes, as if she wanted to see something from them—but those eyes were too deep, and the soul power contained within was too powerful. After just staring for a few seconds, she felt a little dizzy.
"To dare to look directly at the majesty of a god, just this alone is enough to send you to hell."
He deliberately taught this only subordinate of his a lesson in a very serious tone. But there was not a trace of fear on her face, only full of excitement.
"So, you are planning to go to hell. So you are sending me to scout out the situation there for you in advance, right?"
"You wish! I'm planning to go to heaven. You can go to hell by yourself!"
"Ah? Don't, you've already harmed one hell. Don't tell me you're planning to turn heaven into hell too?"
A boring bickering session. This was not the first time, nor would it be the last. But only this time, she really heard what she wanted to hear from him—
"I don't know what happened, and I don't know why you are suddenly preparing to leave. But whether it's heaven or hell, you will take me with you, right? You definitely won't leave me behind, right?" she asked with some urgency. She raised her head again and looked into his eyes.
The divine might was still vast. But at the same time, a blue light also bloomed in her eyes, making her not have to avoid the god's majesty. Yes, she didn't have to avoid this majesty in the first place. Because she herself was a servant under a god—the god's will had long been integrated into her soul, becoming a part of her life that could never be separated.
"Ah."
Looking at her in this state, he was silent for a long time, and finally nodded. "My wings also carry your future."
He promised solemnly. At the same time, in a place that no one could see, on the white dragon that was fighting against the curse and despair, a brand new, pure white wing was slowly unfolding, bringing some new changes to the white dragon that seemed to have completely merged with these ominous things.
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