"So, you think the rumors spreading through the streets were deliberately planted?"
"What else could it be? The timing was far too perfect."
In the pavilion, Samael took up the freshly made fruit shaved ice, sprinkled it with powdered sugar and honey, and handed it to Morgan. As they chatted, the ancient serpent's lips curled into a cold smile.
"It seems the Southern Territory Lords' proposal at the Round Table Conference wasn't simply aimed at you. They probably formed a community of interests long before entering the palace, intending to join forces against the Nameless Forest. Those words outside are merely a means of stirring public sentiment and manipulating public opinion. The Lion King and the Knights of the Round Table are the swords in their hands."
"They're only rumors. Do Artoria and the Knights of the Round Table lack even that much judgment?"
"Fairies are the root of calamity. When one person says it, it's called a 'rumor.' When a crowd says it, it becomes 'fact.' Maybe the noble King and righteous knights will fall for that."
Faced with Morgan's doubts, Samael remained utterly calm, his eyes full of mockery.
As the saying went, a lie repeated three times became truth, and the mouths of the masses could melt gold. Throughout history, many rumors had sunk deeper into people's hearts than the truth.
Remembering the expressions of those nobles at the Round Table Conference as they clamored for war against the Nameless Forest, Morgan could not help frowning.
"The war between the northern and southern territories has only just ended. What benefit do they gain from going out of their way to provoke conflict between humans and fairies?"
"The benefits are enormous. Didn't you see how crazily those fairies bid at the auction? Those little ones are filthy rich.