"Now that's impressive!"
The one who had thrown Leon his sword was watching the fight on the platform. Her eyes lit up, and the cowlick on her head bobbed along with her excitement. She scooped up a huge mouthful of mashed potatoes and stuffed it into her mouth.
She'd been watching since the Knight of the Lake's fifth fight, and she could tell he hadn't been fighting at full strength against those opponents.
But now, she could clearly sense everything about the battle between the two men on the platform: the Knight of the Lake's exquisite skill and wealth of experience, and the challenger's tremendous strength and imposing presence.
Though she couldn't fight on the platform because of her identity, she was still thrilled to witness such an exciting contest. She joined the people around her in cheering and shouting!
"Good! Nicely done, Knight of the Lake!"
"That's it! Keep him tied up and wait for a chance to take him down!"
"Come on, newcomer! Take down that foreign knight! Don't let him keep showing off in Camelot!"
"Ha ha! Seeing a match this exciting makes it all worthwhile, even if I die!"
The crowd's initial sullen silence gave way to excitement as the battle began, and the atmosphere grew lively once more.
But when Leon and Lancelot briefly separated, the two men began fighting again beneath the crowd's blazing gazes.
What followed wasn't the thrilling battle everyone had imagined. Instead, it left them stunned and horrified.
The newly arrived warrior seemed to flicker like an illusion. He shattered the platform with one step, then defeated the Knight of the Lake, who had won all ten of his previous matches, with a single sword strike.
"H-how—just a moment ago, they were evenly matched! How could he lose in the blink of an eye?"
"The invincible Knight of the Lake lost? How is that possible!"
"Knight of the Lake, you useless bastard! Get up and kick that enemy's ass!"
"Well done, newcomer! You didn't let that Frenchman get the better of you!"
After their initial shock, the crowd's curses and cheers mingled together. Once the referee declared the winner, the shouting grew even louder.
But as the Magecraft surrounding Leon gradually faded and his illusory figure solidified, his towering three-meter frame appeared on the platform.
When the spectators below saw who stood before them, their eyes went wide. The thunderous cheers and curses slowly died away, falling silent in the blink of an eye.
"—"
It was as though their throats had been clamped shut. Their minds blanked, as if a heavy hammer had struck them. They stood rooted in place, staring at the figure on the platform, unable to make a sound.
"My subjects, will you not pay homage to your king?"
As Leon's words rang out across the arena, the people in the front row felt his pressure most keenly. One by one, they dropped to their knees as if their souls had left them, and the crowd behind them followed suit.
Leon looked at the kneeling people, quite pleased with his standing among the common folk.
After a brief pause, the people finally came to their senses, and their minds began working again.
Remembering what had just happened, those who had supported Leon felt relieved and silently congratulated themselves.
But those who had supported the Knight of the Lake recalled their insults and dissatisfaction toward the king. Terror seized them, and they collapsed lifelessly to the ground, their hair standing on end as they trembled.
It was over!
The king was going to have them killed!
Among the common folk, some loved and supported Leon, but more were simply terrified of him.
When Leon had seized the royal city with overwhelming force and conquered the north and east in just two or three months, they had felt proud. After all, their country had won a great victory. They could boast about it to foreigners and hold their heads high as they looked down on the Scots and Saxon barbarians.
But beyond that, they felt mostly uneasy.
Many had seen Leon kill hundreds of enemy soldiers with a single sword strike. That bloody scene had burned fear and slaughter into their hearts.
Then he had destroyed Scotland, marched against Vortigern, and, after returning victorious, forced them to come out and welcome him. More recently, he had ordered them to present gifts for his coronation. All of it had deepened their prejudice against him.
Leon had sent people to investigate and knew what the public thought of him. He could only say that those commoners' prejudices weren't wrong at all!
They had sized him up correctly!
That was right.
He didn't need their love or admiration.
At that moment, the people were nothing but half-civilized beasts. Fear was all it took to make them submit; only self-interest could move them. All he needed from the people was obedience to his commands!
Once everyone had knelt, only one person remained standing below, as conspicuous as a crane among chickens.
"Leon..."
Morgan stood below the platform, watching the man on it command ten thousand people to submit with a single word. An indescribable excitement welled up inside her.
A man with such power and presence was going to be her husband!
She suddenly realized that this was an opportunity—a chance to secure her position as queen.
She was confident in her own methods and had already gotten Leon wrapped around her finger. He couldn't go a day without her.
Still, many of Leon's ministers disapproved of her. If she used this opportunity to establish herself publicly as his queen, those ministers wouldn't dare oppose the marriage so casually, for fear of offending Leon.
She acted at once!
Morgan lightly leaped onto the platform. Her gentle voice carried clearly on the breeze to everyone nearby.
"Leon, congratulations on your victory."
"Hey, Morgan, how did I do?"
"You did wonderfully, Leon. I'm proud of you. You really are my husband!"
"Heh heh, of course! You know who I am!" Leon puffed out his chest, unable to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up. He was quite pleased by Morgan's praise.
Their conversation reached the people below, and they were instantly curious—especially when a woman called the king by his name and referred to him as her "husband." The Lion King not only didn't deny it, but seemed delighted.
Court gossip was always a hot topic among the people, and it spread incredibly fast.
They didn't dare raise their heads to look, but they did dare prick up their ears. They listened even more intently than they had watched the fight.
"And my reward?"
At the eager look in Leon's eyes, Morgan gestured for him to bend down.
She rose onto her tiptoes and gave his cheek a quick, gentle peck, leaving a blue lipstick mark.
"There's more tonight."
At that, Leon grew even more excited.
Then Morgan said, "Leon, I have a favor to ask. Could you forgive the subjects who spoke disrespectfully to you earlier? They didn't know who you were, and they meant no harm. Sparing them would show the breadth of your heart as a king, and the people would love you even more."
"Since you put it that way, Morgan..."
Leon hadn't given the matter much thought and hadn't intended to do anything to the people. But after hearing Morgan's opening words, he had realized he could punish those who'd insulted him to set an example.
After Morgan finished speaking, however, Leon changed his mind.
"Then I pardon you all."
It wasn't that Morgan's words had changed his mind. It was simply because Morgan had brought it up.
In his heart, the lives of the people below mattered less than a single strand of Morgan's hair. If she wanted them spared, then he would spare them.
Seeing the hint of happiness on Morgan's face made Leon feel much better, too.
At her words, the crowd below came back to life, overjoyed. Some even wept tears of happiness.
"Thank you for your mercy, my king!"
"Thank you for your mercy, my king!"
They had thought they were doomed, knowing what the Lion King was like. They never expected a single word from Morgan to save their lives.
Dragged back from the brink of death, they felt as though the darkness had given way to light. Their emotions had taken them on a dizzying journey.
Who said Princess Morgan was a wicked enchantress, a vile woman who would ruin the kingdom? She was clearly a merciful saint who saved the suffering! Praise Princess Morgan! If anyone spoke ill of her again, they'd answer for it.
In that moment, their opinion of Morgan changed completely.
"You did wonderfully. Your open heart and gracious mercy are beyond compare. You really are my Leon."
Morgan's further praise lifted Leon's mood even more. He couldn't keep the grin off his face. Scratching the back of his head, he waved a hand.
"Honestly, it wasn't that impressive. It was just average. Anyone could've done it."
"No, no. This is something only you could do. There's no need to be so modest..."
Ahhh, oh heavens, she was running out of things to say! Someone help her think of more ways to praise him!
That was right!
This was the method Morgan had figured out for handling Leon after spending a few days with him.
Go straight for it.
Treat Leon like a five- or six-year-old child: "You're so good, sweetheart! You're so well-behaved! You're the best, sweetheart! Just as I'd expect from my sweetheart..."
Morgan felt as though she'd taken on another child, one even easier to raise than Gawain and Agravain. He was incredibly easy to placate.
Leon might look tyrannical and decisive, be suspicious by nature, and act as though the world revolved around him. But Morgan's tried-and-true approach worked on him every time. She'd never failed.
See? Controlling the ruler of a country was that simple.
"By the way, shouldn't you thank the person who gave you the sword? You would've won easily even without any help, given your strength, but they did it out of kindness. You should thank them."
After secretly praising Leon yet again, Morgan watched him chuckle, put an arm around her, and lead her off the platform toward the person who'd given him the sword.
"Artoria, anyway, I should thank you. Sorry about breaking your sword."
Wait, who did you say?
Morgan froze at Leon's words. In the crowd, she'd only seen someone hand him a sword; she hadn't gotten a clear look at who it was.
Artoria crouched on the ground, set down the empty bucket, and stood up. Cheeks puffed out, she chewed without thinking, staring at Morgan in a daze.
Big sister, are you really the same sister Morgan I know?
"Big sister, you..."
"Ah, you—"
Morgan's voice caught in her throat, and embarrassment slammed into her heart.
Ahhh! Why was Artoria here? And if she was here, had she heard everything Morgan had said to Leon?
If she was here, why hadn't she said anything?
Yes, Morgan didn't like Artoria. She thought Artoria had taken what should have been hers. But that didn't mean she could stay calm with Artoria seeing her at her most embarrassing.
And in such a sickeningly lovey-dovey scene, no less.
Oh no, my dignity as the eldest sister...
Before you continue