On Avalon Island, a thin mist carrying a faint chill drifted in from the water.
It was once again the season when late summer was drawing to a close. Samael, who had lived alone for a long time, habitually sat by the lake, gazing at Britain shrouded in mist.
Time flew by, and another three years had passed in the blink of an eye.
Over those three years, he had largely kept his promise and rarely gone ashore, though he had gradually heard much news concerning Camelot.
Thanks to the receding disasters and the stabilization of the environment, Britain had entered a period of tremendous development. Camelot grew ever more prosperous, and the Queen atop the Tower at the End became ever more imposing.
The lords of the north and south submitted one after another, attending their annual audiences with utmost diligence.
Yet the Queen turned a blind eye to their humble attempts to curry favor. What made those lords cough up blood even more was that—
The goddess who had once sat in her solitary tower, unconcerned with worldly affairs and serving more as a symbol of the nation, had, for some reason, suddenly taken an interest in mortal power and tedious state affairs.
Including the first two years, over these five years, a series of decrees had continually been issued: publicizing written laws, abolishing slavery, abolishing the Right of First Night, regulating loan interest and land taxes, and more. Directly or indirectly, they weakened the privileged standing of the noble lords.
At the same time, Camelot changed its levies upon the territories from grain to rare minerals and magical treasures, all of which the lords had to gather themselves.
Moreover, the Purification Knights and the Round Table, who held supervisory authority, were dispatched each year on inspection tours,