The Golden-Haired King of Annoyance

"Leon has actually pulled it out!"

"I had already given up on him, I never expected..."

"After all these years, our country has a king again!"

Watching Leon's spirited posture as he held the sword high, the knights' faces were filled with surprise and joy, and the graveyard was a scene of jubilation.

Britain finally had a king, which meant these knights would have a purpose. The Vile King to the north, Ireland to the west, the barbarians across the sea... with countless enemies ahead, the chance to win glory and riches on the battlefield was now within reach.

Luther and Jonathan exchanged a glance and let out a simultaneous breath of relief. Their expressions relaxed; it was fortunate that Leon had pulled out the Sword in the Stone, otherwise, this whole affair would have been difficult to conclude.

Nodding to his son, Luther took the opportunity to step in front of Leon and face the crowd: "According to the testimony from the royal court, the one who draws the Sword in the Stone is the King of Britain. Now that Leon has drawn the sword, he is our King—the Lion King!"

"The Lion King!"

"The Lion King!"

Led by the knights who had been pre-arranged, the people cheered in unison, their voices rising in a crescendo.

Amidst the cheering, Leon stepped out of the pit and faced the many knights. He swept his sword horizontally, and under his calm gaze, the crowd's voices gradually died down until silence returned.

Amidst the nervous yet excited gazes of the crowd, Leon spoke slowly and clearly: "I am now the King of Britain. Those who wish to follow me shall win glory on the battlefield, earn titles and wealth, and pass them down to their descendants for generations to come. I ask you now: are you willing to follow me?"

As his voice fell, his foster father, Luther, was the first to approach Leon and kneel on one knee.

"I am willing to be my King's soldier, his servant, his hound. I offer my life to my liege; in life and death, I shall obey the King's command."

Watching his father swear allegiance with such solemnity, Leon thought his acting was decent, but it was too eager and crude, making it obvious to anyone that this was a staged performance.

But he could understand it.

His father wanted to get ahead, after all.

Those who came today were all close to Luther and had been coordinated in advance. After Luther knelt to pledge his loyalty, three other lords of varying shapes and sizes ran out to kneel and express their allegiance.

"My King, we are willing to offer this sword and this body to our liege. In life and death, we shall obey the King's command."

Leon knew all three of these men; they were close friends of his father, Luther. In daily life, Leon would call them uncles, and their children were childhood playmates of Leon and Jonathan.

The appearance of these three brought out over thirty more knights, all of whom were their retainers and followers, who also knelt to swear their oaths.

Seeing so many people favoring Leon, another thirty or so knights who were on good terms with them blindly followed suit.

These men had all seen or heard of Leon's martial prowess and had long been conquered by his charisma. Seeing that Leon had drawn the sword and possessed the legal right to claim the throne, they decided to risk everything to walk this path with him.

If they won, they would naturally be promoted and ennobled; if they lost, it would be nothing more than a grave of Kitsuchi.

Leon scanned the area. There were about a hundred people present, and roughly sixty Champions wanted to follow him to achieve greatness, while the remaining thirty or forty were still watching from the sidelines.

It was understandable. Even though Leon had the legitimate legal right, the royal city of Camelot was still controlled by high nobles who held the majority of Britain's military power. Right now, even if Leon and his group gathered all their friends and family, they only had seven or eight hundred men. Compared to Camelot, the disparity in military strength was too vast.

These people were not familiar with Leon, so naturally, they dared not place their bets easily. Leon, of course, would not take action against them; he simply drove them away.

The priest of the church had witnessed Leon drawing the sword and the knights swearing their oaths. When Leon led the group of knights into the main hall of the church, the priest wore a respectful expression and guided Leon to a seat.

The knights turned over chairs to form a makeshift table, and a map of Camelot was laid out before Leon.

"Father, how many men can we gather right now?"

After discussing it with his three lord friends, Luther estimated the general number: "My King, the four of our households combined should have over three hundred men. If people see you holding the King's sword, it could attract more knights to join, perhaps bringing us to over six hundred."

Leon pursed his lips and looked at his father.

Only six hundred?

Camelot had an army of at least six or seven thousand, and you dare to launch a rebellion with this little force?

Luther also knew this force was a bit small, so he immediately added: "Of course, my King is heroic and decisive, capable of facing ten thousand men alone. Taking Camelot will be an easy task."

Old man, even if you know your son is invincible, you can't use him like this...

I am a King; no ruler of a country should be charging into the front lines.

Leon knew the source of Luther's confidence—it was his martial prowess. Especially after seeing Leon slice off a mountaintop with a single sword strike, his confidence in Leon's power was absolute.

Leon sighed inwardly.

He couldn't entirely blame his father for being so arrogant; it was partly due to Leon's own instigation.

After all, it was he himself who wanted to be this King.

"Six hundred it is. As long as they follow behind me, there will be no enemy before us."

If Li Shimin could stage a coup with eight hundred men, perhaps he could succeed with six hundred.

As Leon discussed the details of seizing power, a commotion broke out outside the church. A retainer on guard duty ran in, and facing the gazes of everyone in the room, he swallowed hard: "My, my King, two people have arrived outside, claiming to be envoys from the Camelot court."

"Envoys? Their reaction is surprisingly fast. Let them in."

Under the supervision of retainers holding swords, the two envoys were disarmed and brought in. One was tall, the other short. The tall one was heroic and handsome, while the short one was delicate and cute.

Upon entering the room, the two envoys neither bowed nor knelt. Leon looked at their faces and felt they looked familiar, as if he had just seen them.

"When I drew the Sword in the Stone earlier, you two were there, weren't you?"

Leon remembered; he had scanned the crowd when he drew the sword. These two had striking appearances and were clearly extraordinary people. Although he hadn't specifically noted them, he wouldn't forget them in such a short time.

He also remembered that these two were knights who had not submitted to him.

"I was just at the graveyard, so how did you become an envoy of the royal court in such a short time?"

"Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Kay, and this is my younger brother, Arthur." The tall man, Kay, spoke with a wavering tone when mentioning his brother, but his voice soon turned firm. "Merlin, the court magician, is as deep as an abyss. Once he knew you had pulled the sword, he immediately used magic to notify me and entrusted me to act as an envoy."

"Just you alone? Is the short one you brought not an envoy?" Upon hearing their names, Lion El'Jonson's attention immediately shifted to Arthur.

Arthur again, and Merlin too. Those British guys at Warhammer who write the lore really did copy King Arthur, and they didn't even change a single word.

Lion looked at Arthur standing beside Kay, his heart filled with the magnanimity of a victor.

So what if you copied the entire story of King Arthur? I am the one who pulled out the Sword in the Stone first, and I am the one who will become king. Even if you truly are the fated master of the Sword in the Stone, you will still be eating my dust!

This is Warhammer. The protagonist of this planet can only be him—the son of the Emperor, the Primarch, Lion El'Jonson.

"You say your name is Arthur? You are indeed a handsome figure."

Out of interest in Arthur, Lion looked him up and down carefully.

He stood about one meter five, looked to be around fourteen or fifteen years old, dressed as a knight's squire, with emerald green eyes and long golden hair... but this Arthur's frame looked a bit frail, and his delicate little face was even prettier than a woman's.

Anyone who didn't know better would think he was some noble's pampered little boy.

Lion's aggressive and arrogant gaze made Arthur feel uncomfortable, and she frowned. Her intuition had been sharp since she was a child, and she could sense the blatant malice coming from the other party.

"I am not an envoy; I am merely accompanying my brother as a squire."

As Arthur spoke, the ahoge on top of her head danced along, seemingly signaling its owner's mood—

Wait!

An ahoge?

Lion's gaze followed the swaying of Arthur's ahoge, his thoughts erupting.

Which Arthur are you supposed to be!