"Morgan, when do you think we should hold our wedding?"
Just outside Camelot, a stream burbled through the countryside. Birds sang amid blooming flowers, and the sun shone brightly over the beautiful scenery.
Leon sat on the grass with Morgan in his arms, his chin resting lightly on her head. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment's peaceful bliss.
Morgan curled into Leon's chest, as if she wanted to melt into him.
"The sooner, the better! You've been spending so much lately. Is there any money left in the palace?"
Leon had spared no expense to make his coronation ceremony to his liking. The preparations had cost a fortune.
Even Morgan, who rarely left the palace's inner chambers, had heard about it.
"Don't worry. I have plenty of money."
Leon's earlier campaigns hadn't been victories in name only. He'd led his army in plundering the north and east, amassing an uncountable amount of gold, silver, and treasure.
He had more than enough for one ceremony—or even three more.
Feeling the hardness against her lower back, Morgan shifted to a more comfortable position. Hearing Leon's answer put her at ease.
Though this wasn't her first marriage, and her union with Leon was a political arrangement that benefited them both, she still didn't want their wedding to look shabby because they were short on money.
"Come on, let's go into the city. It's lively there."
Leon took her hand and led her toward Camelot.
For the past few days, Leon had been occupied with state affairs. He'd been rewarding his soldiers with gold, silver, and land, receiving envoys from other countries, and discussing arrangements for the ceremony.
At last, he'd finished his work. Taking advantage of the break, he immediately took Morgan out of the palace to enjoy themselves—in other words, on a date.
As they neared the city gate, Morgan cast a Magecraft spell on Leon to conceal his appearance.
"You're too big and conspicuous, so I've cast an illusion on you. It'll wear off after three hours, or if you get hurt."
Dreamlike mist shimmered around Leon, rippling with rainbow light and making him seem almost ethereal. Once the colors faded, he had shrunk to about two-thirds of his original size, leaving him roughly two meters tall.
"Not bad. Now I look about as tall as an ordinary person. I won't stand out as much."
Since it was a date, it was better not to draw too much attention. Keeping their identities hidden would make it more romantic.
Besides, Leon was the king. If anyone recognized him and interrupted their rare date, it would be a real nuisance.
"You're so good at this~"
Leon scooped Morgan up and dashed into the city, leaving the guards behind.
Joe and a group of attendants were left watching as Leon vanished into the crowd.
"Commander, should we go after them?"
A centurion hurried over, and Joe promptly tore into him.
"Idiot! Of course we're going after them!"
Leon was strong enough that no one in Camelot could threaten him, but guarding the king was their job. They couldn't shirk their duty just because he was powerful.
I'm done for. Father's going to scold me when I get back... Damn it, it's all that enchantress's fault!
With the festivities underway, Camelot was bustling.
The streets were packed shoulder to shoulder. Laughter, hawkers' cries, and cheers blended into a deafening din.
Vendors lined both sides of the road, hawking exotic wares from all over and performing tricks. There were tiger tamers, monkey acts, ring tosses, and gambling stalls—something for everyone.
Leon held Morgan's hand, afraid she might get lost.
"Morgan, look! There's even an elephant."
Leon pointed at an elephant surrounded by onlookers and exclaimed in surprise. It was playing with a ball using its trunk, to the crowd's delight. He hadn't expected to see one in Britain at this time.
With Leon leading her by the hand, Morgan looked around at everything, taking in the lively streets and ordinary folk. It was as if the warmth of everyday life had rubbed off on her. The tense, bitter twist in her brow faded, replaced by a hint of tranquility.
Seeing how much brighter Morgan's delicate features looked made Leon feel lighter, too.
This outing had opened both their eyes. Leon, no less than Morgan, was amazed by the customs and scenery of medieval Britain in the Moon World.
"Look! There's a tournament over there."
From far away, Leon spotted the largest crowd gathered around a makeshift arena. People were worked up, their faces flushed as they cheered and shouted insults.
"Nicely done! Come on, Knight of the Lake!"
"That's ten wins in a row! Finish him off!"
"Damn it, you can't even beat a worn-out fighter after all those matches? What good are you?"
"Don't you dare lose! I bet my food money for the whole month on you!"
Leon shielded Morgan as they pushed to the front. Two knights were fighting in the arena. Amid the crowd's cheers, a knight in purple armor wielded an iron sword and used a dazzling feint to defeat his opponent.
One look was all it took for Leon to see that the man's skills had been honed through countless battles.
He could say without exaggeration that the man's swordsmanship was four or five times better than his own.
"The winner is the Knight of the Lake!" the judge announced excitedly.
Amid the crowd's congratulations, the purple knight proudly raised his iron sword, basking in the glory of victory.
"Ten fights, ten wins! This knight from a foreign land has defeated ten opponents in a row. There's no denying his strength!"
"Unchallenged! Unbelievable! Such power! Could he be invincible? Is there no one who can defeat this man?"
"One last time: is there anyone willing to challenge him? The winner will receive fifty gold coins. If no one steps forward, the entire prize goes to the Knight of the Lake!"
The judge, who was also acting as the announcer, delivered his speech with such passion that the crowd's excitement reached its peak. They had watched the knight effortlessly defeat one opponent after another and were already captivated by his valor. They roared his title again and again.
"Knight of the Lake!"
"Knight of the Lake!"
Seeing that no one else dared to fight, the judge was about to hand the knight a bag of prize money when the knight refused the coins.
"The prize can wait. I've just spotted someone I'd very much like to challenge. No matter what, I want to fight him."
At that, the judge immediately perked up and eagerly asked:
"Who? Which powerful fighter here?"
As the crowd looked on expectantly, the purple knight pointed his sword toward a tall, lion-faced man below the arena. A tall, mature-looking woman stood beside him.
"Me?"
Leon pointed at himself in confusion. The crowd's excitement had gotten to him, too, and he was eager to try his hand. Especially after seeing someone so skilled, he couldn't help wanting to fight for the thrill of it.
He patted Morgan's hand and gave her a confident smile.
With the woman he loved watching, he wanted to show off a little—to display a king's commanding presence and leave everyone astonished.
Seeing Leon eager to get up there, Morgan, who knew her fiancé's personality inside out, gave him a straightforward word of encouragement. "Come on, Leon! I know you'll win! If you do, I've prepared a very special reward for you."
"Heh. Don't worry, I won't lose." With his beloved's encouragement, Leon climbed into the arena.
The Knight of the Lake held a long sword, confidence and swagger written across his youthful face.
To be safe, the Knight of the Lake stuck to his code of chivalry and asked, "Challenger, you agree to fight, correct?"
"Correct."
He was already in the arena. What else could it mean?
"You seem very confident in your abilities. Heh, I knew I'd come to the right place. I came here to fight the strongest people I could find and show off my prowess." The knight gestured for the judge to step down, then continued, "You really are strong! I can tell from that confident look on your face!"
Leon grinned savagely, baring his prominent canine teeth, white and gleaming.
"Knight, since you've fought ten matches, I can let you rest. We can fight once you've recovered your strength."
The Knight of the Lake refused. "No need. This level of exertion won't affect my fighting ability. Besides, you're the challenger. The challenger has that right."
Seeing Leon empty-handed, he added, "Where's your weapon? I won't fight someone who's unarmed. That would go against my code of chivalry."
Heh, chivalry... Leon muttered inwardly.
Once the Knight of the Lake had finished speaking, the people below noticed that Leon had no weapon.
A clear voice rang out from the crowd, and a sword was tossed into the arena at the same time.
"Take the sword."
Leon caught the iron sword and looked toward the person who had helped him.
The person was young and small, dressed in coarse hemp clothes and clearly from a poor family.
But their refined features didn't match their clothes. Their clear, deep-blue eyes gave them an innocent, lovely air, and a single ahoge stuck straight up from their radiant golden hair.
They held a wooden bucket full of mashed potatoes in one arm, while the other remained extended from throwing the sword.
Leon glanced at them, then turned his attention back to the sword in his hand.
Its material was soft and its design crude. It was probably a practice sword.
Leon pointed the sword at the knight opposite him, looking down at him with wild arrogance.
"Knight, you've got one thing wrong."
"You're the challenger!"
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