My Mother, King Arthur

Arthur scanned his surroundings without hesitation and then stated his purpose:

"In the name of Vortigern Pendragon's heir, I command you to swear fealty to me."

Arthur's words, as expected, caused waves of surprise and voices of opposition.

But in the next second.

An intense sense of dread, the biting cold of ice, and Dragon's Might descended.

This was the authority Arthur had inherited from his grand-uncle. The feeling that they could be killed at any moment made all the Saxon chieftains confirm that Arthur was telling the truth.

This Dragon's Might and sense of dread reminded them of the terror of being dominated by the White Dragon and the humiliation of being driven by foreigners.

"No more questions?"

Arthur scanned the crowd. "Then, come forward one by one, state your name, and kiss my ring."

The Saxons looked at each other. Though shaken, none stepped forward as Arthur commanded.

"Even if you are the Dragon King's successor, it doesn't mean we have to obey you!"

Finally, a chieftain gathered his courage and shouted:

"We followed the Dragon King's will and came to Britannia from afar. The Dragon King promised us wealth and land. But all we received was death and suffering!

Now that he is dead, why should we let another Briton Celt rule over us?!"

His words were met with the support of many Saxons:

"Yes, exactly!"

"Indeed! We don't want to be fooled again!"

"Get lost, Celt! For the Dragon King's sake, we won't kill you!"

"What do we do now, Your Highness?"

Beside Arthur, Galahad asked in a low voice. Meanwhile, Gareth and Mordred tightened their grip on their weapons, ready to escort Arthur to break through.

But it didn't come to that.

"All bark and no bite."

Arthur commented calmly. "It's like a wolf pack. A new wolf king needs to display overwhelming strength, and then the pack will obediently listen and expose their bellies in submission."

Arthur's words made Gareth feel a little conflicted. But now was not the time to cater to a young girl's emotions.

He drew his sword and loudly declared to the Saxons, "Just because I can kill you all."

Dark clouds gathered above everyone's heads at the fastest speed, symbolizing an impending thunderstorm and tempest.

Author's Notes:

Updated, lalala.

To the friends who said I update once a day: I actually update twice! Once at midnight and once at 6 AM.

Chapter Fifteen: Bandits?

The Saxons' fear of dragons intensified.

Back then, Vortigern's reign of terror was not solely directed at the Celts. It was the same for the Saxons who had pledged allegiance. Even though he was dead now, the imprint of fear remained deep in the souls of every Saxon who set foot in Britannia.

But even so, the Saxons still did not yield.

Of course, they also did not continue to express their opposition.

They were waiting, continuing to wait, to see what else Arthur could say to move them.

"I know what you're thinking," the Dragon Child said, looking around and speaking loudly.

His voice, enhanced by magic, ensured that every one of the tens of thousands of Saxons present could hear him:

"You are afraid of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. Because you are no match for them. You believe that marching south again to fight them would be suicidal.

At the same time, you are also unwilling to wait in the northern territories, aren't you?"

Arthur's lips curled into a pleased smile:

"It's cold and barren here, barely able to sustain anyone! The Picts who originally lived here are almost extinct."

"Of course, returning by ship to the lands of the Germans is not an option either. Because the situation there is even worse than the northern highlands of Britannia.

You cannot advance, cannot retreat, and cannot wait. You think you're doomed, don't you?! Huh?!"

As Arthur spoke, the heavy pressure made the Saxons' expressions grow gloomier. Their postures became more hunched.

The Celts of the British Isles viewed the Saxons as barbarians and invaders.

Many Celts did not understand.

The situation in the British Isles was already dire. The land was becoming more barren year by year, and the yield from forests and fields was decreasing annually. Under these circumstances, why were the Saxons still rushing here desperately?

Why were the Saxons willing to endure the White Dragon's terrifying rule and even fight the British Celts just because Vortigern promised they could come to the British Isles?

—It was entirely because their original homeland was even more terrible than the situation in Britannia.

Gaia's goal is the annihilation of the Celts of Britannia.

As a means to achieve this goal, the climate weapon affected not only the Celts but also the lands of the Germans. It was even more severe. Otherwise, it wouldn't be the Germans invading the Celts, but the other way around, with the Celts invading the Germans.

After explaining the problems facing the Saxons, Arthur raised a finger.

The beautiful youth's tone was seductive: "I can solve this problem. My Saxon brethren, I, can solve your problems! I can give you a stable life, I can stop your endless wandering. Your children, your wives, your parents, and of course yourselves! I can let you live!! As for why I dare to say this, tell them, Mordred. Tell them my other identity!"

Arthur's latter half of the sentence was directed at Mordred. She immediately stepped forward: "Before you stands the great King Arthur, the eldest son of the King of Britannia, to whom the Knights of the Round Table are loyal!! And the rightful heir to Britannia!"

Such a declaration once again stunned the Saxons.

"You, can you represent King Arthur and acknowledge our right to exist in Britannia?" a Saxon chieftain, stepping forward somewhat excitedly, asked tentatively.

"Only a portion," Arthur said calmly. "I will not settle all the Saxons in Britannia. I want you to follow me south, to the warmer, more fertile Continent of Europa! I want to unite more tribes, defeat Rome, and conquer Gaul! Then Hispania, Italia, Greece! All the warm and prosperous lands! As followers of the Dragon of Britannia, you deserve the spoils you are entitled to! Wealth, money, livestock, land! Now, choose. Do you choose death, or do you swear allegiance to me?!"

As Arthur's words fell, the Saxons exchanged glances. One of the oldest and most respected chieftains stepped forward.

"If that is the case," he unbuckled his sword, then knelt on one knee, holding his sword aloft. "Of course, we choose to swear allegiance to you!"

That evening. As the Saxons packed their belongings, preparing to follow Arthur south, discussions were underway in the tents of the next generation of Knights of the Round Table.

"You know, don't you?" Galahad said calmly beside Arthur. "Britannia's grain supply has always been a problem. If we don't import from the continent, we can't fill the gap. Now you've taken in tens of thousands of Saxons. Is that really okay?"

"There are two paths before us," Arthur said. "One is to let the Saxons join. The other is to kill them all. So, which one would you choose?"

"Can't we just ignore them?" Mordred asked from the other side.

"What's the difference between that and killing them?" Arthur retorted.

"You're really asking for trouble," Mordred muttered, but she didn't object further.

As for Gareth, after a brief period of worry and confusion, the wolf-girl fell into fervent admiration for Arthur. "Ah, what a magnificent youth. To bear the lives and safety of tens of thousands. To show mercy and salvation even to enemies. That shining humanity is the very proof of a great king!"

Of course, that wasn't the case. At least, not entirely.

After both Gareth and Galahad had left, Arthur snuck out again and entered Mordred's tent.

"I have something to tell Mordred."

"I'm only telling you this, so don't tell anyone else," Arthur said, pulling Mordred's hand and speaking to her with the air of sharing a secret. "There's another reason why I'm taking these Saxons as subordinates—that is, I want to achieve something great."

"Something great...?"

"My identity, the son of King Arthur. He brings me glory and status. But at the same time, it comes with immense pressure and burden. My father is a great and righteous king. Therefore, as his son, I must achieve merits worthy of my status, so as not to shame my father. Furthermore, I want to achieve even greater deeds than my father. I want to become an even better, even greater king than my father. This is the best tribute and return to my father, don't you think, Mordred?"

Arthur's words were filled with excitement and joy.

"Recruiting the Saxons was just the first step.

Did you think I was joking about marching onto the Continent?

I wasn't.

What I aim to build is a legacy that lasts for eternity, not confined to Britannia alone. It will encompass all of Europa, the entire world! Let the whole world cheer the name Artorius. That is my goal, Mordred."

He placed his hands on Mordred's shoulders:

"On this great and arduous path, I hope to gain your support. Can you do it, Mordred? Can you be my partner and challenge this world with me?"

Author's Notes:

Children are always easier to incite. Boy soldiers are always more brutal than adult armies.

Chapter 16: I Need You (Please Vote!)

As an android, Mordred's actual age was still that of a child.

As a child, Mordred's emotions were easily stirred.

Just like now.

"Someone needs me!"

"Someone acknowledges me!"

"Arthur invited me to do something so great!"

"He wants me to be his companion!"

Just thinking about it filled Mordred with excitement and joy.