My Mother, King Arthur

In contrast, Arthur had continued to expand... Those growing increasingly disappointed with the Western Roman Empire gathered at his side. The Britons growing increasingly disappointed with King Arthur did the same.

After that, the largest group under Arthur's command was the "Germans."

Ever since he had arrived at the border of the Black Forest, every tribe that emerged from its depths had become Arthur's prey.

Those tribes were crushed, shattered, and devoured by him and his German Army.

The strong joined his army and fought for him across the land. The weak became his slaves, felling forests, filling swamps, and reclaiming land for him.

Correct yet ruthless political, economic, and military systems had created the monstrous German Army of the Empire. A highly efficient, fanatical war machine utterly unlike the corrupt and decadent Western Roman government...

More importantly, Artorius—or rather, the "Germans"—possessed the Mandate of Heaven.

The forests they hunted in yielded more prey than those hunted by the Romans and Celts.

The land they cultivated produced more than that cultivated by the Romans and Celts.

Every German was more ambitious than a Roman... Though compared to the Briton Celts and Romans, they were so foolish. Their civilization, technology, and even individual combat strength all lagged behind those of the Celts and Romans.

But.

They had truly obtained the Mandate of Heaven. On the future timeline, these people would uphold that mandate and establish a world order led by themselves—this was Fate.

"Raising a tiger invites disaster."

And so, while Lucius Tiberius secretly regretted things in Rome, sixteen-year-old Artorius Pendragon firmed his resolve.

"It's about time."

After another tender moment with Mordred, he made his decision.

"Little Mo."

He said to his foolish little sister, nestled against him and looking utterly happy, "Do you miss home?"

"..."

"Home?"

Hearing that word, Mordred—who had been so enchanted by Arthur these past two years that she barely knew which way was up—took a while to realize that the "home" he meant was Britannia.

Ah... It had clearly been less than two years since she left, yet it felt like something from a very, very long time ago.

"That's right. Home."

Arthur rose to his feet and said to Mordred, "I'm going back to Britannia for a while. Are you coming too, Little Mo?"

"..."

Hearing Arthur say that, Mordred instinctively felt timid at the thought of returning home.

But in the end, she still answered him:

"Wherever Brother goes, I'll go."

Heroic Spirit Arthur gained a Personal Skill: Leadership A.

Author's Note:

Update, la la la. Twenty-five chapters is no problem, I'll reply. From now on, there won't even be any borderline content.

The Glory of a Conqueror (Second Update!)

Warships from Germany docked at the port of London. Unlike before, those stepping off the ships were not Saxon invaders, nor invaders from any German tribe, but Britannia's own people.

Besides the cousins Artorius, Mordred, and Gareth, there were also knights from all across Britannia, as well as warriors from Saxon tribes that had already settled in Britannia.

Once the ships docked, porters, merchants, and even a few streetwalkers rushed over as quickly as they could.

Children playing in the streets and waving wooden swords, along with old men sitting beneath trees chatting, were all drawn in by the commotion.

The reason was the steady influx of resources and wealth the German Army had brought from the Continent of Europa over the past two years.

The knights and tribal warriors who followed Arthur would either return directly to Britannia during their rotations and leave, or entrust some powerful and reputable knight to bring their spoils and rewards home for them.

This wealth from the Continent of Europa had replenished Britannia's depleted treasury, made up for the food shortages caused by increasingly barren land, and filled the purses that King Arthur's endless expeditions had emptied.

"Truly, the world has gone downhill. Those bandits can actually strut about openly on Britannian soil..."

Some said such things, but when the ships of the German Army docked, more people looked at Arthur's group disembarking with excitement and envy.

When the Britannia Red Dragon Flag, the Roman Eagle Flag, and the German Wolf Flag flew high together, everyone froze for a moment before erupting into wild excitement.

Across all Europe—even the entire world—only one person used all three flags at once.

The ruler and conqueror who represented Britannia's Dragon Child, the Roman Empire, and Germany—Artorius Pendragon.

"It's Artorius, Prince Artorius! He's back! He's back!!"

Nearly everyone in Lundenia surged toward the harbor as fast as they could, shouting their welcome for their great commander's return home.

His unbroken victories in the European wars had brought Artorius immense prestige. After the knights who had earned fame and success under Arthur returned to their hometowns, they always made people long for Artorius.

Especially as Father King's rule declined by the day. People seemed more willing to follow a commander who could bring them real benefits than a ruler like King Arthur, who only demanded that they endlessly "persevere" and "endure."

Artorius's prestige in Britannia had already caught up to—and perhaps even surpassed—King Arthur's...

"The Battle of Camlann."

Riding a pure white warhorse, Arthur looked around and repeatedly waved to the people cheering for him along both sides of the street as he thought:

In the original history, the Battle of Camlann should be happening soon.

In other words, Britannia's tolerance for Father King's rule is almost at its limit.

Now, Britannia's situation was entirely different from the original timeline.

Because of Arthur's efforts on the European continent, Britannia was more stable than before. The nobles, lords, and kings all sought to curry favor with him. They frequently wrote letters or sent envoys. The meaning behind their words was always about the same: they hoped Arthur would take them to Europa to make their fortunes.

If one viewed the matter from the perspective of "rebelling against King Arthur," Arthur was doing far better than the historical Mordred had.

Beyond their disgust and fear toward King Arthur, he had another reason to unite Britannia's lords and nobles: he could offer tangible benefits and promises. That was something the historical Mordred could not do...

Of course, Arthur had never intended to betray Father King.

But...

If Fate requires Father King to lose, then...

Arthur's thoughts were somewhat chaotic.

Everything he had done so far had, in one way or another, conformed to Fate's demands—the rise of the Germans and their challenge to Rome.

But what if Fate demanded that he betray Artoria and deal a fatal blow to his most beloved Father King? What should he do then?

"Hmph... We'll see."

At that thought, Arthur gave a disdainful snort, then continued waving to the welcoming crowds around him.

This was something Father King, King Arthur, would never do. That upright and incorruptible king would not use such little tricks, speeches, or displays of closeness to tell everyone, "I love you."

King Arthur always relied on actions.

Unfortunately, in terms of results, King Arthur's "actions" could not compare at all to Arthur's "showmanship."

Many times, what people needed was precisely this kind of "attitude" and "feeling." They needed the illusion that "someone is paying attention to me."

Whether King Arthur was aloof or upright and incorruptible, the eventual result was simply that the king grew further and further apart from the people.

By contrast, Artorius, who stirred their cheers and emotions, better matched what people expected from a king.

"Humans truly are interesting."

"Brother, what are you talking about?"

At Arthur's side, Mordred heard his remark and asked with both curiosity and confusion.

"Nothing. It's just..."

Arthur looked at Mordred. "It's just that humans are truly far too fickle."

Because in the beginning, when King Arthur led the Knights of the Round Table to attack, drive out, and defeat the Saxons, the people of Britannia had also lined the streets to welcome them just like this.

"?"

Mordred still did not understand what her brother meant, but this time, she did not press the matter. Instead, she gave him a cute smile and let it go.

Happy girls did not care about such things.

All she needed to do was obey, carry out Arthur's orders, and enjoy her brother's affection. Nothing else mattered.

Following that principle, Mordred had become the sharpest shield and sword in Arthur's hand over these two years.

Suppressing rebellions, facing enemy armies, commanding battles. Under Artorius's guidance, Mordred's talents had been fully unearthed.

Just as Arthur had hoped, Mordred, after displaying all her potential, was a genius only a hair's breadth behind his beloved Father King.

She had capably taken on the role of a general who could stand on her own, absolutely loyal to Arthur and Artorius's finest assistant and companion. Little Mo would unhesitatingly take on many tasks that were inconvenient for the other Knights of the Round Table to handle, and carry them out flawlessly for him.

Beyond that, during breaks from war and in Arthur's daily life, Little Mo—obedient to his every word and utterly devoted to him—could care for his everyday needs and soothe his weary body and soul.

Author's Note:

A leader can't be too aloof. You have to stay close to the people.

There's one more update tonight.

My Aunt, Morgan le Fay

"Going home?"

Hearing Arthur say that, Little Mo asked:

"Are we going back to Camelot?"

"Not quite."

Arthur smiled at Mordred.

Since they were on a crowded main street, he could not, as he did in private, hold his adorable little sister in his arms while speaking and gently stroke her hair.

"It's your home, Little Mo."

"Mine..."

Mordred's expression changed slightly.

That was because she understood what Arthur meant by "your home."

It was the "home" of her "mother," Morgan le Fay.

"..."

Did Arthur have some business with "Mother"?

And where exactly was Morgan living now?

As a Britannian princess, Morgan possessed both noble status and outstanding abilities.

For power in Britannia, and also for mutual exploitation, she had had many lovers and husbands. She could skillfully make use of those men's castles. Mordred suspected that beneath each of those castles lay a Magic Workshop belonging to Morgan.

Furthermore, Morgan le Fay represented the evil side of the Lady of the Lake. She also possessed the ability and qualification to enter Avalon.

So...

"No, no, no. You've got it wrong, Little Mo." After the welcoming banquet, Arthur politely declined the invitation of Lundenia's city lord and chose to stay at one of his estates outside the city.

As one of the most powerful and influential people in all Britannia—and perhaps the richest person in the whole country—Artorius had bases in every important region of Britannia. Naturally, Lundenia, one of Britannia's most important future cities, was no exception.

After entering the estate, the "Knights of the Round Table," utterly loyal to Arthur, immediately secured it. The magi raised barriers and released hounds and familiars, turning the estate into a fortress in the shortest possible time.

In this castle belonging entirely to Artorius, the German Army's party began to rest at ease. Only then did Arthur answer Mordred's earlier question.

"It's not that we're going to find my aunt. It's that we're going to make her come find us."

"...Make her come find us?"

Like a most loyal guard, Mordred remained standing beside Arthur even after changing into casual clothes. Only when Arthur took her hand and gave it a slight pull toward himself did she follow the motion and fall into her brother's embrace.