The Era Has Changed, Sir! / The Dragon's Child

My Mother, King Arthur. Author: Sunrise

Synopsis

Artoria: Arthur, my son whom I am proud of, the glory of all Britannia. As Crown Prince of Camelot, you should inherit everything I have—my throne, all my property, including but not limited to the Knights of the Round Table, my Holy Spear and Holy Sword, the noble steeds in the royal stables, and every treasure in the vault.

Mordred: Mom, Mom, what about me? Ah, I get it. Big Brother inherits everything from you, and then I inherit Big Brother. That makes it a happy ending, right? So when are you abdicating, Mom? How many tables should we set up for the wedding? Can I turn your Scabbard into a surfboard?

Artoria: Knight Mordred, I hereby name you Earl of Glamorgan. Depart for your post at once. There must be no delay!

After transmigrating to Britannia in the age of King Arthur, Artorius faced only one question: should he be a great villain, or a minor one?

Dragon Never Bows

Evil Dragon Prince Artorius's Attributes

Compatible Classes: Saber, Lancer, Caster, Assassin, Berserker, Rider

Alignment: Order

Traits: Riding, Humanoid, Divine, Dragon, Arthur, King, Rome, Beloved

Region: Europe

Parameters (may change depending on Class)

Strength: A++ (Dragon Charge)

Endurance: EX (The Dragon Never Bows!)

Agility: A (Dragon Soars in the Sky!)

Mana: A+ (Frost Breath!)

Luck: B (Lustful Incident Rate Up)

Noble Phantasm: A+++ (Dragon's Endless Pursuit!)

Noble Phantasms and Skills:

King's Sword of Frost, Rank A+ (Trait Alteration; King's Sword released at full power; essential for filial sons)

Spear of Piercing Death, Rank B+ (A gift of love from Old Woman teacher)

Smoky Flash of the Knight's Demise, Rank A (**Eat shit, my lord!**)

Eternal Bishonen, Rank A++ (Anti-Female; especially effective against older ladies! Especially effective against high-status noblewomen! Especially effective against venomous women starved of love!! Double, then double again, against women with intimate relationships!!!)

Knight's Martial Prowess, Rank A- (The result of training hard every day and being abused by Old Woman; a weakened version of a certain father-in-law's skill)

Frost of Stillness, Rank A+ (Inherent Skill; Freeze Beloved)

Discernment Eye (Female), Rank C (No good woman can escape my discerning eye—even if she wears masculine attire and chest binding!)

Incitement, Rank B (All those with ideals and ambitions, come join me! Let us accomplish great things together!)

Charisma, Rank A (One capable of ruling a vast empire)

Mad Enhancement, Rank E- (As long as the mood strikes me, I can...)

Unfinished Rune Magic, Rank E-- (Some Old Woman, get your fucking ass over here and teach me)

Mana Burst, Rank A; Instinct, Rank C; Riding, Rank B; Magic Resistance, Rank A (A hereditary skill)

Author's Note:

Attributes would change over time.

The Times Have Changed, My Lord!

"Up!"

"Down!"

"Middle!"

"Not bad reactions, but still not good enough!"

Amid the rapid-fire instructions were cries like "Ah!" "Oh!" and "Fuck!" The sharp and dull impacts of blunt weapons striking one another, or striking bodies, combined into a training match on the lawn before White City.

One side was Artorius II, eldest son of King Arthur, sovereign of the nations across the British Isles, and Crown Prince of Britannia. The other was the most stern, feared, and even "terrifying" member of the Knights of the Round Table—Agravain the Iron.

He was also the one holding the upper hand in the current fight.

"To be honest, Agravain, I'm starting to hate this kind of training—owoo—"

The thirteen-year-old prince was flawless in speed, strength, and technique. Among his peers, he was exceptional. Unfortunately, his opponent was over twenty years older than him, with overwhelmingly superior physical ability and experience.

"The King ordered me to train you. Whether you hate it does not concern me."

Agravain answered calmly, not forgetting to continue his attack as he spoke. His blunted practice sword targeted every opening on Artorius II—or Arthur.

"Fine, fine, I can compromise—if possible, I'd rather be trained by some cute big sister. Like a certain Purple Old Woman? The one who looks sexy in a bodysuit? Isn't that supposed to be standard equipment? Why did I get stuck with a cold, heartless old man—urgh!"

"The King believes I am the most suitable member of the Knights of the Round Table to train you. That is all."

"Then what about Purple Old Woman—ngh—"

"There are no women in the Knights of the Round Table."

Hearing him say that so seriously, the bishonen's expression instantly became comical.

Arthur: "Heh heh."

As he let out that "heh heh" laugh, Agravain punched him in the head.

"Shit!"

"As a prince, foul language is a mark against you."

Then came another kick. Arthur struck Agravain in the chest at the same time, but Agravain seemed completely unaffected.

"Wearing armor is cheating, Lord Agravain!"

"If you are willing to fight in armor, you may do so as well."

Arthur rolled his eyes. Against one of the highest-ranked great knights of the Knights of the Round Table, speed and agility were among his few advantages. If he fought in armor, he would lose his sole advantage and go from having a slim chance of victory to none at all.

The next second, they traded another injury for another. Arthur was sent flying several meters away and collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath.

"..."

Agravain did not pursue. After all, his goal was training, not victory—and certainly not murder. "Today's sparring practice shall—"

"—No, wait." Arthur stopped him, then struggled back to his feet.

"You appear to be in poor condition, Your Highness. Shall I summon a physician? Or perhaps a mage, or an alchemist? Anyone but Lord Merlin."

"Who do you think caused this... No, now isn't the time to argue about that."

Wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, Arthur said irritably, "I mean we continue."

"But..."

"Yes, yes, you think I can't fight anymore, right? Ever since I began combat training, I've spent years getting beaten around one-sidedly. That's what you think, isn't it, Lord Agravain?"

"That is precisely the meaning of training. The King has also confirmed that these experiences will make you stronger. And besides that—"

"—Forget it. She's never been a good... father. We both know that."

Arthur continued in an unhappy tone.

"Your Highness, when referring to the King, I believe you should—"

"—Yes, yes, respect, respect. But that isn't the point. The point is what comes next—"

"What comes next?"

"Yes, what comes next." Amid a series of clicking sounds, Arthur pulled a... hand cannon from his robes.

"This is...?"

"My secret weapon. I call it the Short-barreled Self-Igniting Hand Cannon. Or, if you want a name more fitting for this era, you can call it Smoky Flash of the Knight's Demise, or Knight Killer. Or any other cool name."

Agravain's expression did not change as he listened, though he felt somewhat strange inside. "In my view, it is an ingenious alchemical device, but not one of much practical use. It does not deserve a title like Knight's Demise.

So where did you acquire it? Lord Merlin, or some alchemist? Does it employ forbidden magecraft?"

"No, of course not. I do know the rules."

Arthur spoke casually. "As for where I got it... do you know how troublesome the Fairies of Avalon are? Especially for a bishonen like me... Oh, right, I forgot you have absolutely no luck with women. I should have asked Merlin that question instead, but whatever."

He raised the gun and aimed it at Agravain. "Prophecies, astrology, you, Father King, and everyone in the Knights of the Round Table all believe I will bring change to this country. I think so too—so eat shit, Agravain!"

He pulled the trigger, aiming for Agravain's arm.

The lead bullet was slapped away with a single strike from the Knight of the Round Table.

"Wait, this isn't what we agreed on—"

The next second, Agravain charged forward and punched Arthur in the chin.

Heroic Spirit Arthur gained Archer compatibility. Gained Noble Phantasm: Smoky Flash of the Knight's Demise, Noble Phantasm Rank A.

Author's Note:

Please support the new book!

Dragon Child

"How long was I out, Lord Agravain?"

When he opened his eyes again, Arthur found himself still lying on the grass before White City. A gentle breeze carried the fragrance of fresh grass.

"About fifteen minutes, Your Highness." The other man stood not far away and answered calmly. Then came the time for questions.

"So, what lesson did you learn from this battle?"

"Hmm..."

Arthur propped himself up with some difficulty. He was still a little dizzy. After shaking his head to adjust, Britannia's publicly acknowledged bishonen casually asked:

"Don't trust women too easily, especially Fairies?"

"Correct. The Witches of Avalon cannot be trusted, especially Lady Morgan. What else?"

"My Smoky Flash of the Knight's Demise. I originally thought the world's first flintlock pistol would be powerful. But unfortunately, that will have to wait thousands of years, until my legend has deeply entered people's hearts... Though of course, the Fairies of Avalon bear the main responsibility."

"As usual, I shall ignore the latter half of Your Highness's nonsense." Agravain said calmly.

"Your summary of the first half was good. Rather than relying on such an unreliable alchemical device, you should place more faith in the sword in your hand."

"Fine, fine. What else can I do when this is Britannia in the Type-Moon World?" Arthur lay back down, feeling slightly frustrated.

As for Arthur's words, Knight Agravain ignored half of them as usual. He, along with everyone else in Britannia, knew that Prince Artorius II's mind was just a little, little, little bit abnormal.

Everyone in Britannia remained emotionally stable about this.

It was like Lord Lancelot. Everyone knew that when provoked, he went mad and slaughtered people at random; his mind twisted and his logic chaotic. He cheated on his wife and was a complete scumbag, to the point that even his own son wished he could imitate Mordred and stab him. Yet none of that prevented him from being a good knight.

And then there was Mordred.

And Tristan.

And, of course, Agravain himself.

Therefore, everyone in Britannia remained emotionally stable about the fact that their future king had a few minor issues.

Arthur believed that those who were emotionally unstable could be sent to have a heart-to-heart with the Knights of the Round Table. A good talk about feelings. That way, they would surely become emotionally stable.

If this country were under his rule, he would definitely do that.

"Do you require me to escort you to a physician?" Agravain asked calmly.

"No need. Let me lie here by myself for a while." Arthur spoke helplessly. As a Dragon Child, his body recovered far faster than that of ordinary people. Besides, this was White City, rich in Ether.