My Mother, King Arthur

This was perfectly normal, right? Though Arthur had the mind of an adult, his body was only thirteen years old. Under the influence of puberty's massive hormonal surge, it was already quite admirable that he could think about saving the world while thinking about girls.

"The key is that I don't want to become what Father King expects of me. And I can't become that, either."

Though he was deeply dissatisfied with Merlin, Merlin was one of the few people in all of Camelot whom Arthur could speak to without holding back.

Because of the Half-Incubus's attitude as an "observer," his cynicism and his attitude toward humanity had determined the way he acted.

No matter what Arthur said or did, he would just grin and not care in the slightest. Then again, even if Arthur imitated Agravain and ran to tattletale to his mother, she would not believe him.

After all, this Merlin's credibility rating was in the negatives.

"I know my strengths, and I know my weaknesses."

Arthur continued casually:

"Most of Camelot's Knights of the Round Table have no ability to think independently.

King Arthur, King Arthur, King Arthur. It is as though as long as they support King Arthur, every problem can be solved."

"Isn't that the case?"

The frivolous pink-haired man plopped down beside Arthur's bed, grabbed the Merlin Beast, and casually stroked it as he said in a cheerful tone:

"Your Father King is a truly great person. No enemy can possibly be her match."

"You're completely missing the point," Arthur said.

"You know that the key issue is not war. Even if she crushed every Roman, every German, her dear uncle Vortigern, and my dear Aunt Morgan, then scattered their ashes into the sea, Britannia would still perish.

It is determined by the era, by the natural environment, and by the gradually vanishing Ether. It is not caused by Britannia's enemies.

The key issue is that King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table do not understand this. Or rather..."

"Or rather, they do understand, but they cannot solve it either... so they can only deceive themselves. Heh heh heh~"

Merlin laughed happily, as if watching a beautiful girl make futile, misguided efforts to save a nation that was doomed to remain unsaved was something amusing.

"Yeah." Arthur's tone was helpless, and once again he understood why everyone familiar with Merlin hated the man.

—Because this guy's mentality was simply too rotten.

Though half his blood came from humans, he had none of their empathy. He did not see humans as his own kind, but as something entirely different. Therefore, he felt absolutely no sympathy for human pain, suffering, or torment. He merely viewed them as amusing things.

Though "history" showed that the great mage's mentality would change in the future, as a normal person, Arthur knew he could not judge things based solely on a mobile game.

"So what do you mean?"

Merlin said happily, "Our Dragon Child, the child of the great King Arthur, the future ruler of Britannia... or perhaps its fallen king? Do you think you have a better way to save Britannia?"

"Of course I do." Arthur answered without hesitation, meeting the half-blood Half-Incubus's gaze.

"Hmm..."

"What do you see in my eyes?" Arthur asked.

"Nothing at all." Merlin answered airily. "Compared to foolishly staring into someone's eyes and guessing their thoughts, I have better methods of divination. Perhaps you have forgotten, but I am the world's greatest mage, you know. Heh heh heh heh heh~"

"Then what is your prophecy for me?" Arthur continued.

"Nothing~ Your future is utter chaos. As a Dragon Child who should never have been born, even the world's greatest mage cannot predict you. Otherwise, why do you think I love following you around? It is not as if I am one of those Catholic priests, heh heh heh."

"..."

Arthur rolled his eyes, then jumped off the bed.

"So where are you going?"

"To find someone who can actually help." Arthur did not hesitate. "Instead of continuing to listen to some bastard brag."

"Let me guess who you are looking for." Behind him, Merlin continued with his "prophecy." "Morgan, Vortigern, or Vivian?"

Arthur's answer was a middle finger raised high.

Author's Note:

Arthur: I have zero moms.

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Round Table Family

Arthur was not joking when he said he had a way to save Britannia. The problem was that, as a thirteen-year-old boy, there was truly very little he could do for this country.

He had not officially joined the Knights of the Round Table yet, so he had no right to speak.

Of course, even if he had joined the Knights of the Round Table, it would have been more or less the same.

Though the so-called "Round Table" represented "equality for all," surely no one was foolish enough to think King Arthur, Lancelot, and Gawain had the same influence as some newly promoted knight, right?

The Round Table had seats.

The closer someone sat to King Arthur, the higher their status. There were three factors that determined one's standing among the Knights of the Round Table.

Identity, ability, achievements, and seniority.

Setting aside the first, ability and achievements required time to accumulate, and seniority even more so.

"Fortunately, there is still some time before destruction."

After leaving the living quarters, Arthur strode forward without hesitation. His target was neither Britannia's White Dragon nor Britannia's enchantress, nor was it Avalon's Fairy.

The first two were too terrifying. Though the latter was not the most dangerous, the price was equally staggering. Besides, she was not reliable—the Flintlock Pistol was proof enough.

The interior of the Pure White City was also pure white. Unlike the cold, dark, filthy medieval castles people imagined, the Pure White City was always warm, always bright, and always spotless.

Amid a faint fragrance, Arthur walked forward over the ever-clean red carpet. As he passed King Arthur's private study, he vaguely heard an argument. The Knights of the Round Table were quarreling as usual.

Even without counting the future split and civil war of the Knights of the Round Table, contradictions had always existed within this organization.

For glory, for power, and for King Arthur's favor, the faction led by Gawain and the families headed by Lancelot had always maintained a "healthy competition."

Knight Kay, Knight Bedivere, Knight Agravain, and the others were relatively neutral. They had not joined any faction, and their loyalty to King Arthur was comparatively purer... though in a sense, they could also be considered the "King Arthur faction" of the Knights of the Round Table.

Of course, this classification was not completely accurate. Overall, the Knights of the Round Table remained united and loyal to King Arthur. The barriers between the factions were not so clear-cut, either.

Gawain's faction had people like Gareth, a Lancelot fan, while Lancelot's faction had a white-haired filial son who was always thinking about stabbing his own father in the back.

You had me, and I had you. Perhaps only a ruler like King Arthur could gather these people together and maintain a superficial unity.

Arthur ignored the argument inside the study. As the heir apparent, he did not need to show excessive goodwill toward any faction or anyone, lest any of them misunderstand his intentions.

In that regard, he understood people's hearts better than his mother did.

If Arthur had any dissatisfaction with the White City, then the lack of cute young women in Maid Outfits was definitely one of them.

With enough blessings, the White City was a self-regulating magical fortress. It needed no servants, no gardeners, not even cooks. The castle itself could provide everything needed by the knights and knight attendants living there.

Thus, as Arthur walked along, he barely saw a single person. This was even more true after he went underground.

His destination was his Magic Workshop. Or rather, an extension of that bastard mage's Magic Workshop.

Just as the Iron Knight had guessed, Arthur had been secretly conducting magical research.

For the reason that "this seems pretty interesting," Merlin had given him the most basic assistance. This included, but was not limited to, handing Arthur spellbooks far beyond his level for him to browse, opening almost every magical project that could reduce someone to ashes in an instant, and teaching Arthur anything he wanted to learn...

Such as mixing the Three Acids and Two Alkalis, steel and Steam Engines, the Periodic Table, or even the construction and maintenance of the supermassive spiritron computer C.C.C.

After all, Arthur could not expect that one day, his mother in a Baseball Cap, his mother with glasses, or his machine-girl mother would appear before him in a spaceship and say, "Son! Come inherit my Death Star Fortress! And my Dark Knights of the Round Table, plus my Ant Huabei debt! Be careful not to get caught by the collectors—your mom is running away!"

That would be a disaster if it actually happened, would it not?

If he wanted to climb the tech tree, he had to rely on himself.

Ah, of course, the same applied to learning magic in the conventional sense.

As a Dragon Child, Arthur's talent for magic was extremely good. As a highest-ranking Phantasmal Beast with the Heart of the Red Dragon serving as his mana furnace core, he was fundamentally different from a "mage" in terms of specifications. Once he reached his complete form, he could directly unleash destructive power.

But when it came to his "best" magic, it was naturally support and enhancement magic.

Faster speed, greater strength, more agile thinking, quicker reactions.

He had not used these spells during his previous match against Agravain. Otherwise, Arthur would not have lost.

The key was not the outcome of a practice match, but the hidden cards he could use on a battlefield.

"So then, Your Highness, what is your next project... oh, Homunculi~ I am not actually very good at that sort of thing. How about asking Lady Morgan?"

A little later, Merlin appeared before Arthur again. After swiftly confirming Arthur's research direction, he declared this happily.

Arthur rolled his eyes and ignored him.

What nonsense about not being good at it.

Was there anything a Grand Magus was not good at?

More importantly, was Artoria, the current King Arthur, not a Homunculus created with your assistance by Grandfather—or Grandmother?

Back then, Arthur's grandfather Uther Pendragon, terrified by the approaching end of the Age of Gods and Britannia's impending destruction, had replaced a newborn child's heart with an artificial dragon heart with Merlin's assistance.

Under their control, Artoria had existed as an artificial savior.

Compared with Mordred, an inferior product like the Misaka Sister, who grew too quickly and had too short a life cycle, Artoria was far more perfect.

That Aunt Morgan might be impressive, but Merlin truly deserved to be called a Grand Class Candidate for being able to freely manipulate and create the highest-grade Phantasmal Beasts.

That referred only to strength, not character.

Bare feet.jpg

Author's Note:

Updated!

You're Roman Too?

Today's Merlin was still utterly useless, wanting to gain more amusement from Arthur. And today's Arthur was still studying diligently every day—whether it was the Three Acids and Two Alkalis, fertilizers and pesticides, or Steam Engines, all of it could be accomplished through the methods of the Age of Gods, and done even better.

But the Age of Gods was ending.

The next era would be a new one. An era in which Mystery had nearly vanished and magic had to remain hidden. An era belonging to ordinary "New Humans," people almost entirely unrelated to Mystery. In other words, an era for those barbaric and primitive people originating from Northern Europe, who had no blessings of Ether and had to overcome every hardship through their own strength.

Researching all kinds of magic immersed Arthur in an ocean of knowledge, and before he knew it, night had fallen. When he finally left Merlin's Magic Workshop and returned toward his room, he found King Arthur's study still lit, with the sounds of arguing still coming from inside.

"Did they argue all day? How affectionate."

Thinking that to himself, Arthur pushed open the door and walked in as quietly as possible.

During this process, King Arthur, sensing someone enter, turned her head and met the Bishonen's slightly shy, concerned smile. Her lips parted, but in the end she said nothing.

Though her "son" had not spoken, his attitude was obvious.

First, Artorius II was concerned about her. And he was assuring her that he would not cause trouble. Under those circumstances, King Arthur did not choose to drive him out. At least not before Arthur opened his mouth and interfered with matters of state.

As for those currently arguing, they were mainly Arthur's cousin Gawain and the leader of the other faction, Lancelot. The two "adults" were somewhat embarrassed. It seemed they felt that arguing so fiercely in front of a child, letting the heir apparent see their bad side, was rather beneath them.

Because of this, with Arthur's arrival, the argument in the study became more "civilized." Their voices lowered, and their tones became calmer. At least, that was how it remained until they got heated again.

"Hey, what exactly happened?"

Arthur carefully walked over to Galahad, then lowered his voice to ask.

"Actually, this is what happened." The white-haired knight also lowered his voice and explained carefully.

—The cause of the matter was an envoy who had arrived in Camelot during the day.

He did not come from any kingdom in the British Isles, nor was he one of the northern Picts or the invading Saxons. He came from the southern continent. More precisely, he had crossed by ship from Gaul. He claimed to be an envoy of Roman Emperor Lucius.

That man, dressed in a Roman-style robe and wearing a Laurel Crown, had demanded with the arrogance of a city dweller looking down on country folk that the British Isles bow to Rome. They were to become Rome's vassal, pay tribute and taxes, and send troops to form an auxiliary legion to help the empire fight the Germans in the Black Forest.

"He was an extremely arrogant man, with an air of decay seeping from every inch of him." The junior knight frowned at the end. "It is hard to imagine that Britannia was ruled by people like that only a few decades ago."

"So what was the result?" Arthur asked in a low voice.

By "ruled by people like that," he meant that before Rome decided to abandon Britannia completely, the islands had been one of the Western Roman Empire's provinces.

Roman immigrants and Celts had blended together, bringing prosperity and stability.

However, after a series of disasters—the Scourge of God among the nomads, the Germans' mass migration and invasion, courtly political struggles, and a succession of mutinies—the Western Roman Empire had no choice but to retreat again and again.