"Is that all?"
Arthur couldn't help but snort inwardly. He had thought that, in her panic, she might come up with some good excuse.
Big Sister Vivian's excuse was truly awful.
Rather than an explanation, it was more like shirking responsibility.
But they were too big.
Pressed hard against Fairy's soft, squishy breasts, Arthur's slight dissatisfaction was completely neutralized by that soft, warm sensation.
So Arthur accepted Fairy's apology, as well as the reason Fairy had given.
Big Sister Vivian was innocent.
Everything was Merlin's fault.
"But..."
After sorting things out, Arthur returned Vivian's embrace. While rubbing his face around in Big Sister Vivian's bosom, he said to her:
"But the problem still has to be solved, Big Sister. I've been racking my brain over this lately."
Hearing Arthur say that, Vivian began racking her brain along with him.
Knowing that something was destined to have no solution and still trying to challenge it meant you were either a fool or an idiot.
How exactly could they save Britannia?
"After thinking very hard, I came up with a not-really-a-solution."
Under Vivian's bewildered gaze, Arthur happily told her:
"Pan-Human History and the Counter Force want to wipe out the Age of Gods and Britannia's Celts. So as long as we become something else, can't we just slip past them?"
Just like that, he told Vivian about his plan to Usurp Fate.
Author's Note:
Several Shaanxi restaurants recently opened near my home. Roujiamo, oil-splashed noodles, liangpi, and lamb paomo. They tasted unexpectedly good.
What kinds of snacks does everyone like?
Even If It's for the Child
Mom's Dual Wielding.jpg
"As long as Britannia becomes Francia, and the Celts become Germans, then we're guaranteed to win, aren't we?"
Arthur gave his final summary, then happily looked at Vivian. "So? Am I smart, Big Sister Vivian?"
"This... well, that is indeed very smart."
Not wanting to dampen Arthur's enthusiasm, Vivian forced a smile and casually went along with him, while desperately calculating things in her heart.
"This works in theory, but will it really work? Does this count as deceiving the Counter Force?"
"But... in the end, the Counter Force is merely the 'Counter Force.' It has no personified emotions like being 'fooled.' So as long as 'Britannia's Celts perish,' it won't get angry... probably."
"If that's the case, then this plan really... no, that's not right. Everything depends on the major premise of successfully Usurping Fate."
"Can Fate really be usurped successfully?"
Vivian couldn't help thinking it over. Before long, she reached a conclusion similar to Morgan le Fay's. After all, as Lady of the Lake, her abilities were more or less on par with Morgan le Fay's.
It was just that the latter's talents were focused on Homunculi and potion-making, while Vivian's were focused on fooling children and crafting magical Mystic Codes.
"Fine!"
After understanding all that, then looking at Artorius, who was gazing at her with a face full of anticipation, Vivian suddenly felt a surge of heroic spirit.
I'll give it a try! she thought. Even if it's for this child!
"Okay! I promise you!"
So she told Arthur, "I will help you usurp the Fate belonging to Francia, the Anglo-Saxons—and even every people across all of Germania!"
"Ooh, ooh~" Arthur cheered happily, looking at her with worshipful eyes. "Big Sister Vivian is amazing! As expected of Big Sister Vivian, you're incredible! I like Big Sister Vivian so much! I like you the most!"
After saying those morale-boosting words, Arthur continued kneading and rubbing himself against Big Sister Vivian's bosom, generously emptying his pockets. The next day, when Mordred wanted to buy snacks from Arthur, she flew into a rage:
"Why is there so much less?!"
As a result, Mordred remained in a strange state of suspicion and confusion that entire day.
She had clearly been with Big Brother the whole time.
They had clearly never separated, and she had not noticed any strange pests around Big Brother either.
Why did Big Brother still occasionally end up short of money?
He couldn't even scrape together his little sister's allowance, yet he still had the nerve to say The Dragon Never Bows... honestly...
At the same time, Arthur himself felt somewhat embarrassed.
As expected of Lady of the Lake.
She had actually taken away what was in Artorius's pockets from the level of "concept," even saying, "This is to show you that Big Sister has the ability to Usurp Fate."
Was that even the same thing? Could they be compared? That was usurping Fate, while yours was usurping life!
Fortunately, dragons were not only enduring, but also had tremendous stamina. In just a few minutes, Arthur had recovered and generously opened his purse to Mordred, providing her with unconditional support. He let Mordred know that The Dragon Never Bows was not fake news. Having successfully protected his little sister's happiness, Little Mo remained cheerful, bright, and radiant on the road to Camelot.
"Come to think of it, this was what actually happened."
Still adhering to his resolve that I will absolutely never lie to Little Mo, Arthur selectively told her about what he had experienced in his dreams:
"It was the Shadow Country, Scathach—you've heard of her, right?"
"Mm, yeah, I've heard of her. Didn't we go to Ireland to find her? We just didn't find her."
Riding toward Camelot, Little Mo casually replied in a cheerful tone.
Speaking of which, Britannia's roads were truly terrible.
The roads connecting Britannia's various territories, cities, and castles had almost all been built during the era of Roman rule. Ever since Britannia entered its age of fragmented warlords, those roads had never been maintained or repaired again.
By now, roads in many places had collapsed and become impassable.
The reason for this was Britannia's fragmentation and internal chaos.
Ever since the era of Arthur's grandfather, King Uther, all of Britannia had been divided into pieces.
The so-called kings of those small kingdoms lacked both the capability and sufficient financial and material resources to carry out infrastructure construction.
To them, roads were simply too dangerous.
They were not arteries for transport, nor channels for commerce and supplies. They were fatal routes that enemies could use to attack them.
Under such circumstances, never mind maintaining and repairing roads—some people even deliberately destroyed them to make their territories more "defensible," hoping to obstruct enemy advances.
And as the "King" of Britannia, neither King Uther nor King Arthur had done more than "nominally unify Britannia."
King Uther had been slightly better. Through marriage alliances and the remnants of Roman inheritance, he had at least managed to keep up appearances. He still possessed some authority.
King Arthur could not.
At the beginning, she had merely been a tool meant to save the world. Never mind the kingdoms of Britannia—even within Camelot itself, there had been countless lords, nobles, ministers, and knights who refused to obey her.
After all, everyone was happily ruling their own little turf. Why should you get to become king just because you pulled out a sword and make us listen to you? Did basic law mean nothing anymore?!
Because she was illegitimate.
And because she was female, King Arthur's initial status had been worthless. From the very beginning of her reign, she had lacked popular support. Naturally, she could not get anyone to respond when she wanted to build some infrastructure.
And after she won a resounding victory over the Saxons, she poured nearly all resources into the bottomless pit of searching for the Holy Grail, which was doomed to yield no results. That left her with even less money to repair roads.
"This won't do."
Arthur couldn't help thinking, Once I become King of Britannia, I'll have to repair all these roads. And I'll build new highways while I'm at it.
As he was thinking that, Mordred beside him said:
"Come to think of it, Father King sent almost all the Knights of the Round Table out to search for the Holy Grail."
"Yeah," Arthur answered.
"The Holy Grail... can something like that really grant people's wishes?"
"Who knows..."
Arthur shook his head. "Rather than placing my hopes in some empty external object, I believe in my own strength."
If it had been before, when Arthur said something that so clearly denied King Arthur, Little Mo would have sulked inwardly even if she did not make a scene on the spot.
But things were different now.
She merely gave an ordinary "Oh," indicating that she understood.
That was because, compared to Father King, she now liked—liked even more—liked only her big brother Artorius.
Meeting Again, My Foolish Little Sister
News that Arthur and Mordred were about to return to the Tower of White Chalk had long since reached King Arthur's desk through scouts and messengers.
This both delighted and worried Artoria.
Naturally, she was delighted by the reunion of father and son, by the happiness of a reunited family.
After pouring nearly all resources and almost every outstanding knight into the single matter of "searching for the Holy Grail," Artoria had felt deeply miserable and depressed.
Under such circumstances, reuniting with her children after a long separation would naturally soothe her parched heart.
And naturally, her worry stemmed from Arthur's identity and why he was returning.
Within King Arthur's court, and even in neighboring countries, there had always been "such" rumors.
Artorius was returning to Camelot to demand that King Arthur abdicate, so that he could inherit Camelot—and all of Britannia's territory, status, and army—
Most importantly, the army.
Arthur now commanded half the Knights of the Round Table—
In terms of troop strength and numbers of knights, Artorius, who currently had tens of thousands of soldiers loyal to him, over a thousand elite heavily armored knights, and three times as many heavy cavalrymen, was far stronger than King Arthur.
But when it came to the most powerful experts, King Arthur's side still had more.
Among the rumors of "When will you become Roman Emperor?" there was one relatively credible claim: "After Artorius becomes King of Britannia and gains the loyalty of all Britannia, he will gather every knight and army of Britannia together with the Germans and other barbarians loyal to him, then launch a full-scale attack on Rome."
Even Artoria herself half believed and half doubted that credible rumor.
What she feared was that her precious son would return, enter the Tower of White Chalk amid flowers and applause, and then she would ask him:
"Arthur, what are you doing?"
And Arthur would answer, "Inheriting your throne, Father King." Then he would draw Frost Clarent and strike at her.
If that happened, how would Artoria face her own son?
Worse still, all the Knights of the Round Table had gone out in search of the Holy Grail. At this moment, Artoria did not even have anyone with whom she could discuss matters.
So she tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
Until, when she turned over again, she heard a sound from beside her:
"Mm..."
"Sorry, Guinevere." She spoke to her in an apologetic tone. "Did I wake you?"
She thought that her constant tossing and turning, the sounds and vibrations it made, had disturbed the sleep of her nominal queen.
But that was not the case.
When she turned around and looked over, even the tiny bit of drowsiness she had finally managed to gather vanished completely.
Because beside her was not her nominal queen, Guinevere, but an adult version of herself. Her smiling, graceful elder sister in a nightgown.
"Morgan le Fay!"
Before you continue