My Mother, King Arthur

"From today onward, Britannia can no longer pray for Ether's favor. We must feed ourselves through our own diligence and wisdom!"

After saying these slogan-like words, Arthur looked at his Father King. "I happen to have prepared a complete set of plans, Father King. I believe you will be willing to look them over."

The "plans" Arthur spoke of were the results of his previous research: waterwheels, dams, canals, and other irrigation works; drought- and cold-resistant wheat breeding; new plowshares better suited for deep plowing; all kinds of farming tools... and so on.

None of this could save Britannia, of course. But it could prolong Britannia's lifespan and buy Arthur time for his next step: the racial integration plan.

"But all of this will take time."

After that, Kay, one of the Knights of the Round Table and Arthur's god-uncle, asked helplessly, "What are we supposed to do before your farmland plan is realized?"

"That is what I was about to discuss, Uncle Kay."

Arthur smiled at him, then said, "I propose that we revise our diplomatic relationship with Rome."

Author's Note:

The readers' discussions have gradually increased, which is certainly a good thing. As long as the discussions remain constructive, there is no problem.

What needs to be said here is that Arthurian Legend, real history, Type-Moon, and Type-Moon's various Parallel Worlds are basically one huge mess. Many parts contradict one another. So when everyone discusses things, please base it mainly on Type-Moon and this book. Thank you, everyone.

Also, please keep supporting with monthly tickets, recommendation tickets, blades, and tips.

Rome Likes Barbarians

"Arthur."

When Arthur got this far, King Arthur spoke. "I have issued my decree. Britannia will not accept Rome's coercion, and I will never surrender to Rome."

"Of course Britannia will not surrender to Rome." Arthur spoke calmly. "The ones surrendering to Rome will be the Saxons."

"What do you mean?"

King Arthur's expression became rather strange.

"What I mean is this." Arthur said, "I will submit to Rome as a Saxon prince. I will lead the Saxons and a portion of Britannian volunteers to fight under Roman command, in exchange for Rome lifting its grain embargo against Britannia."

"What?! That won't do!"

Hearing Arthur say this, King Arthur abruptly raised her head, looked at him, and refused without hesitation.

At the same time, the surrounding Knights of the Round Table also understood.

For the sake of honor, Britannia would never agree to pay tribute to Rome. But the Saxons were different. Within the Western Roman Empire, the number of German soldiers serving Rome even exceeded the number of Roman soldiers. A Saxon army could blend in without any trouble.

At the same time, Arthur was Britannia's crown prince, first in line to the throne. His journey to Rome could also serve as a hostage.

Rome had always liked taking in foreign barbarian princes, using Rome's strength and civilization to educate them into Roman fanatics, making it easier for them to rage or weep at the appropriate time.

This routine had been used countless times throughout history. And as long as someone still wanted to sell their values and cultivate collaborators, it could keep being used forever...

Of course, this routine did not always go according to plan.

For example, there was that especially famous barbarian idol king, Attila. She had once been a hostage in Rome. The Roman rulers at the time had eagerly hoped to turn her into a Roman in spirit.

But regrettably, they failed. After returning to the Huns, Attila became Rome's greatest nightmare. The knowledge she had learned in Rome and her familiarity with Rome instead became Sharp Weapons against it.

She had nearly destroyed the Roman Empire, and even now, she still influenced the entire world.

But even so, Rome would not refuse the heir of a "Province of Britannia" governor.

"Your Highness intends to use yourself as a hostage in exchange for Rome's concessions, while preserving Britannia's honor."

At this moment, many Knights of the Round Table were filled with solemn admiration. Arthur's image grew immensely lofty in their eyes.

"As Britannia's heir, it is only right that I contribute my strength to this country, win merit, and earn renown." Arthur spoke in a serious, unquestionable tone.

"This is the most reasonable strategy, Father King."

Yes, Britannia's reputation would be preserved, and so would its channel for importing grain.

Sending troops to help Rome fight would also conserve resources and gain combat experience. Resisting the spread of the Germans across Europe would benefit Britannia's own national security as well. It could be said to have countless advantages.

The only one who lost out was Arthur himself.

What a magnificent spirit of sacrifice!

"..."

"Do you have any other requests?"

After a moment of silence, King Arthur finally accepted Arthur's plan. Then, with complicated feelings and a complicated tone, she asked this question.

"I need manpower, Father King." Arthur said calmly. "Please allow me to recruit volunteers throughout Britannia. And among the Knights of the Round Table, assign several knights to serve as my assistants."

"I agree, but you must also obtain the consent of everyone present."

Just as Arthur had expected, under such heavy and oppressive circumstances, even Kay, who kept muttering, "What the hell, bastard...," did not dare refuse Arthur's invitation. He even seemed faintly expectant.

Though Arthur had never considered recruiting him as an "assistant" in the first place.

Putting his ability to get things done aside, this guy and Merlin were known as the twin scum lords of the knight order. His capacity for causing trouble was far too great. It would be better to leave such talent in Camelot to retire.

In the end, the people Arthur selected were exactly as expected.

Galahad, Gareth, Gaheris, Agravain, as well as Gawain and Mordred. They were all his cousins and those close to him.

Besides that, King Arthur gave Arthur a way to contact Lancelot and promised to write him a letter asking Lancelot to look after them.

The latter had been stationed in Gaul recently for trade with Europe, mainly to purchase grain, and thus had not attended this Round Table meeting.

"Then, that will be all."

After everything had been discussed, King Arthur calmly gave the order to the Knights of the Round Table.

The knights naturally understood her feelings, so they said nothing further. They merely looked at the monarch they served with worried eyes, then bowed and withdrew. In the end, only King Arthur and her secretary Agravain remained in the Round Table chamber.

"Lord Agravain."

Before this man who was always steadfast, King Arthur rarely revealed such weariness.

"Am I now going to sacrifice even Arthur...?"

"This is merely a temporary hardship, my King." Agravain said respectfully. "As long as we can find the Holy Grail, every problem can be resolved."

"Yes..."

King Arthur nodded. "The Vile King problem, the Saxon problem, and the Roman problem. Once Britannia's greatest threats are all resolved, we can finally achieve at least a little stability."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Then send out all the knights." King Arthur gave the order. "Have every Knight of the Round Table search for the Holy Grail, to save my homeland, and... my child."

Here, King Arthur made a mistake.

Her child did not need her saving.

Artorius Pendragon was full of ambition, eagerly awaiting the chance to accomplish great deeds upon Europe's vast and fertile lands.

Many people in Britannia, just like him, did not need King Arthur's salvation either.

For example, the second sons of those ordinary knights.

They were like King Arthur before she had drawn the sword.

They received knightly training, while also having to do housework and odd jobs. Every day, they could only sleep from the dead of night until dawn. Once they grew up, the land would belong only to their elder brothers, while they themselves received nothing. They even had to become their elder brothers' knight attendants.

This frustration and restlessness of seeing no future would remain unchanged even if Britannia truly were "saved."

Until Arthur appeared before them and offered them a new choice.

Of course, before that, Arthur had to travel to Rome and find himself a new ally and patron.

Author's Note:

Updated, lalalala.

Colluding with the Roman faction.

And there's also a promo exchange:

"Shopkeeper, get me a membership card too!"

Multiverse anime.

I, Rorschach, have no other hobbies. I just want to save a few more innocent children and raise a few more adorable daughters.

Type-Moon/Gensokyo/Marvel → Bullets for Lolis → Type-Moon/Dark Souls/Gensokyo

How Could a Crown Prince Last Seventy Years? (Please Vote with Recommendation Tickets!)

Fifteen days later, at the mouth of the Rhine River, inside a Roman Barracks, Arthur met the current Western Roman Emperor, Lucius Tiberius.

This Roman Emperor was not enjoying himself in a warm Italian court. Instead, he was active on the front lines resisting the Germans.

As France's natural geographical boundary, during the era of the Roman Empire, the Rhine River had always been the first line of defense against the barbarians of the Black Forest.

Only Mordred accompanied Arthur as Britannia's envoy to seek an audience with the Roman Emperor.

The royal attendant guiding them carried the unique arrogance of a high-ranking slave, endlessly explaining the various requirements for meeting the Emperor to Arthur, while repeatedly emphasizing their importance.

It was as though Arthur would be dragged away and beheaded if he even breathed incorrectly.

In comparison, Arthur cared more about something else.

The soldiers in the Barracks.

Barbarians, barbarians, and still more barbarians.

Within Lucius's Barracks, the number of barbarian soldiers from Germanic peoples—the Goths, Vandals, Saxons, Franks...

These barbarian soldiers, carrying axes, with unkempt beards and chainmail armor, vastly outnumbered the Romans wearing segmented armor and carrying large shields and spears—

Ever since the Roman Empire had suffered terribly against the cavalry of the Persians and Huns on both eastern and western battlefields, the short sword had fallen increasingly out of favor. Roman shield-wall formations still existed today, but soldiers used spears more often than short swords—that thing was fucking useless against cavalry.

"I hate this place."

Beside Arthur, Mordred whispered, "It stinks to high heaven. It's much worse than Camelot."

Mordred was right. The Barracks' sanitation was appalling. It seemed late Rome had completely forgotten the strict requirements military doctrine imposed on camps.

"I rather like it."

Arthur happily looked around. "A place where heroes can put their skills to use. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Artorius Pendragon, son of the King of Britannia, requests an audience!"

Before Mordred could say anything else, the eunuch raised his head proudly and shouted in a shrill voice no ordinary person could produce.

This was Arthur's first meeting with Lucius.

He was a young man in magnificent robes and a laurel crown. He was fairly handsome, but his expression was wild and unruly, like a combination of a local tyrant and a spoiled young noble.

He sat with one leg crossed, reclining against a throne draped in red velvet, enjoying fruit and wine from warmer lands. Several nobles in long robes and generals in armor stood on either side. They were all trusted aides of Lucius Tiberius.

"Lord Artorius."

He spoke to Arthur in a teasing tone. "Have you come on behalf of the Province of Britannia to return beneath great Rome's rule?"

"This subject cannot represent Britannia."

Arthur answered neither humbly nor arrogantly, "This subject can represent only himself."

"Tch... Then this is not very interesting."

Lucius Tiberius rolled his eyes. "A hostage seeking Rome's favor? Your father truly is a cold man, Lord Pendragon."

"In fact, this subject has not finished speaking."

"I shall give you another three minutes."

"That will not be necessary."

Arthur replied, "This subject can represent only himself, and... fifty thousand Saxon tribesmen, three thousand excellent warriors, and two hundred Britannian knights."

"Oh...?"

Arthur had clearly succeeded in drawing the Roman Emperor's attention. "Say more. I am becoming more interested in you, my lord."