Quarrel

In the mysterious room, an old man stroked his gray-white beard. His blood-red eyes held a thoughtful look as he gazed at the young mage before him.

"So this is your teacher's plan? To use Lucius against that lion of Britain? Out of respect for an old classmate, I'll offer you this bit of advice: you won't win."

The young man was taken aback. "Even if my teacher uses the alchemy of the Giant Cellar and activates the remains of a Greek god?"

The Jeweled One shook his head. "That lion wields the Holy Sword of the Stars. Even if he can't unleash its full power, simply holding it is a deterrent in itself."

Seeing that the young man still looked as if he didn't understand, the old man sighed. His old classmate really had no one capable under him if he had sent someone this foolish to see him.

The Lion King wielded the most powerful weapon forged by the planet. That alone showed that both Counter Forces recognized him.

The Jeweled One knew this feeling well. Back when he fought that extraterrestrial enemy, he had earned the Counter Force's recognition and assistance.

During that time, he had seemed able to get anything he wanted. It was as if everyone and everything in the world were bending to his will, pushing him toward the very pinnacle of life.

The Lion King of Britain was in the same position now. Perhaps without an extraterrestrial enemy, the Counter Force's assistance wasn't as obvious, but that didn't mean just anyone could challenge him.

The young mage spoke with conviction. "But no matter what, my teacher has decided to take on the Lion King. He ruined my teacher's plans and killed so many people. My teacher can't let him go."

His teacher was a fellow disciple of the Jeweled One before him. He had once studied under King Solomon, and after the Age of Gods ended, he founded an academy to pass down magecraft. His disciples and students had also built many magecraft cities, but they had successively shut down in opposition to the Holy Church.

As the Mystery on the continent faded, they had turned their attention to the Spirit Tombs on the island of Britain, hoping to excavate them for vast magecraft resources and preserve their tradition.

But the Lion King of Britain had crushed their operation with an army as soon as it began. He had killed a great many talented mages and seized the treasure-filled Spirit Tomb.

The young man looked at the old man hopefully. "My teacher sent me to ask if you might..."

"I won't get involved," the Jeweled One replied firmly. "No matter what you do, I'm an outsider in this world."

His old classmate really must have been furious to think he could persuade him to act.

Still, he could understand. That lion had slaughtered most of the students his classmate had taught for years, taken the Spirit Tomb that held the greatest Mystery in the world, and ruined a plan laid over many years. He would be desperate too.

"The war has begun. No one can stop it."

When Leon's order to go to war left the palace, all of Britain was roused once again.

Conscripting laborers, assembling troops, transporting grain.

The trains connecting Scotland and Wales ran day and night without pause. Their loud whistles and billowing smoke filled the route as they carried soldiers stationed across the land, while grain from every region streamed into the capital.

The enormous sailing ships built for the purpose shuttled back and forth between Britain and Ireland. The port was not far from the capital; its residents could reach it on foot in half a day. They watched Irish soldiers disembark, along with local nobles and officials returning to report in while they had the chance.

Everyone looked on with envy.

Neither commoners nor nobles resented the coming war. Most people looked forward to it. In their minds, their king was undefeated, winning one victory after another over the years.

Even the mighty Roman Empire across the sea would be no match for the Lion King.

Like all his previous enemies, it would be crushed by the knights he led.

As the officials said, the soldiers heading to the front for His Majesty the King were fortunate. They only had to take a military parade, follow the Lion King on a tour of Europa, and they would receive countless rewards in gold. The lucky ones might even earn military honors, be granted land, and become great nobles.

Even farmers and slaves could seize the chance to turn their lives around and become nobles of the highest standing.

Under Leon's policies, Britain had many such examples by now. The people often saw friends or acquaintances earn land and wealth for their deeds on the battlefield and rise above the rest.

The people of Britain were so envious that they were practically delighted at the prospect of war.

A procession of guards in fine clothes rode ahead, clearing a path and rousing the crowd to move aside. In the middle was a luxurious, imposing carriage drawn by four white horses. Its surface was decorated with finely carved ornaments, and sun-emblazoned flags hung from its four corners.

Another group of guards, fully armed, followed closely behind the carriage.

As the procession headed for the seaport, the people watched its impressive display with envy, yet couldn't help wondering who it was for.

"Who is that? He's so grand. Isn't he afraid the Lion King will get jealous and target him?"

"With guards clearing the way in front and behind, and a carriage drawn by four horses, he must be one of the king's close attendants—a wealthy, powerful noble."

"White horses, the sun emblem... I remember now! It's the king's most beloved adopted son, the White Horse Prince, Gawain!"

The people finally understood, and recognition dawned on them one after another.

Over the past two years, the White Horse Prince, Knight of the Sun Gawain, had become one of Britain's hottest rising stars. He was the queen's son, later adopted by the Lion King, and was himself the bravest of knights. The Lion King trusted him deeply.

Two years earlier, when the Lion King carried out his reforms, the lords of Wales had raised an army in rebellion. The White Horse Prince, Gawain, had been sent to suppress them. He put down the revolt in just a month, then rose to become one of Britain's thousand-household commanders and was granted a thousand-household fief as a marquis.

Gawain had grown considerably over the years. He was no longer the frail boy he had been when he first met Leon, but had become a handsome, valiant young man. His robust frame filled the broad carriage with such a powerful presence that it seemed almost cramped.

Seated inside, Gawain heard the people's comments along the road and could only smile wryly to himself. He didn't want to make such a show of himself. It didn't suit his nature, nor the virtues of a knight.

But he had no choice. It was the king's rule: nobles of each rank were entitled to the trappings of their station. He couldn't very well argue.

After arriving at the port, Gawain entered the VIP area surrounded by his guards and waited. After a long while, he finally spotted a large sailing ship approaching in the distance. He hurried over.

Once the ship had docked, a group of guards first disembarked in the VIP area. Under their protection, a thin, black-haired young man came into view.

The young man was pale, with prominent brow ridges and sunken eye sockets. His brows pressed down over his eyes, giving him a cold, sinister look. Paired with his gaunt, pale face, he looked like a thoroughly unpleasant man.

"I didn't expect you to come and meet me, Gawain."

Agravain looked at his half-brother as he approached. His expression remained unchanged, but had softened somewhat; he no longer seemed quite so cold.

"Haha, don't be so cold. No matter what, we're brothers born of the same mother."

Gawain flashed a bright, cheerful smile, took Agravain by the arm, and led him into the luxurious carriage.

After climbing inside, Agravain glanced around before speaking in a low voice. "I don't want to acknowledge that madwoman as my mother. I imagine you feel the same."

"People can change. Mother has changed a lot too."

"Oh?"

Seeing Agravain take an interest, Gawain continued. "Since marrying Father, Mother has had two more children. Maybe it's Father's love, or maybe it's because she gave birth to a little brother and sister. In any case, Mother isn't as extreme and twisted as she used to be. Merlin says that in recent years, she's returned to the innocent temperament she had as a young girl more than ten years ago."

"The Lion King really is remarkable."

For the past two years, Agravain had stayed in Ireland and never returned. He was usually busy with work. Since the Lion King had extended the shires to Ireland, the island had been divided into northern and southern regions, and he had become governor of Northern Ireland.

The occasional news he heard about his mother was all common knowledge.

He opened the carriage window and looked out at the bustling crowd in the port. The large ship that had returned from Ireland carried more than just him; it had also brought a great deal of grain and many soldiers. The port connected to the railway station, and the soldiers and grain were then sent by train to the camps and warehouses not far from the capital.

Watching the train belch thick black smoke and make a piercing noise, Agravain thought of the ironclad warships he had seen offshore and couldn't help marveling. "Britain has changed so much. It's far beyond anything I imagined."

"It's all thanks to the Lion King."

As Gawain described the changes in Britain over the past two years, Agravain felt as if he had woken in another age. He could only marvel once again that the Lion King was no ordinary man. It seemed Britain was truly about to rise.

As for the war against the Roman emperor?

Ever since seeing the Lion King's absolute power, Agravain had never considered that they might lose.

After hearing Gawain's account, he was instead more interested in the Lion King's family affairs. "How does the Lion King treat his younger brother and sister? Which one does he favor more?"

"His brother is still young, so I'd say his sister, Mordred."

Agravain had heard rumors even from far away that his mother Morgan had given birth to another son after the move of the capital. The Lion King had named him Artorius, a name that sounded a little like the younger aunt who had studied magecraft under Merlin.

He suddenly looked across at Gawain, a thoughtful expression in his eyes.

Gawain asked curiously, "What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I was wondering if you have no interest in the throne."

"Hm?"

"You and I are both Mother's children, and Mother was the daughter of the previous King Uther. If you look at it that way, you wouldn't be entirely unqualified."

Agravain's words made Gawain freeze. Then he waved his hand, his tone sincere and earnest. "I would never think such a thing! Father drew the Sword in the Stone by Heaven's will and unified all of Britain in such a short time. He is clearly a sacred king bestowed by Heaven. How could I ever entertain such a treasonous thought? I'm wholeheartedly loyal to Father!"

"Good. I'm glad you understand."

Agravain let out a breath, his expression relaxing somewhat.

He had heard in Ireland that Gawain had been made a marquis. Gawain's military achievements in suppressing the rebellion weren't enough to justify such a title, yet he had received it all the same. It didn't take much thought to understand why.

The Lion King had personally knocked Gawain out of the line of succession. The marquisate was simply compensation.

Agravain figured that he too would be made a marquis after the war.

In the palace of the royal city, inside a luxurious bedchamber.

After finishing his official duties, Leon reclined on the bed as Mordred lay on his chest, rubbing against him. A graceful figure appeared in the room, carrying a baby in her arms. The moment Mordred saw her, she got off Leon, opened her plump arms, and ran over.

"Mom, Mommy, hold me..."

"Mommy's holding your little brother right now."

Morgan took her daughter's hand, only to hear Mordred mumble, "Little brother, hate... bad..."

"Mordred is the big sister. You have to be nice to your little brother."

Morgan handed Artorius to her husband and picked up her daughter. She let the girl burrow into her chest like a hungry tiger, then shot her husband a look.

"That greedy face is exactly like yours. You've spoiled Mordred."

"How is she like me?"

Leon admitted that he sometimes fought the children for food, but Mordred had been weaned long ago, and Artorius couldn't eat that much...

Besides, how was she like him? Mordred looked nine-tenths like her mother, Morgan. Only the wildness that occasionally showed in her brows and eyes made her seem like Leon's cub.

Leon had asked Morgan about it, only to get an entire evening of complaints in reply.

Something about how Leon's genetic material wasn't human, how she'd had to work very hard to suppress it, and how dominant traits came from the mother, while the father's hereditary features had to be hidden for it to work...

With his level of biological knowledge, Leon only understood half of it. The other half was full of magecraft terminology he couldn't understand at all.

After playing with the children for a while, they began to look sleepy. Morgan handed them to the maids; she had something to discuss with her husband.

But when she thought of her husband leaving on an expedition and how they wouldn't see each other for some time, then considered the request she was about to make, she decided he would be more likely to agree while he was in a good mood.

Morgan stroked her husband's head as it lay buried against her chest.

Once Leon had had his fill, Morgan held his face between her hands. Her azure eyes rippled like autumn waters, yet their depths were as still as the bottom of a lake.

"Leon, my husband, the last of Britain's Ether—the True Ether—is gone."

"Mhm."

"I want you to destroy those trains and factories. They're what made the Ether disappear from the island. They've polluted Britain. You promised you'd destroy them for me."

Morgan's voice was cool, yet seemed to conceal a mournful, lilting sadness. It trembled faintly. Leon let out a breath, his eyes clear.

"Morgan, I'll do what you ask... but not now. I'm at war with Rome, and those things are useful to me right now."

"You lied to me!"

Morgan shoved Leon off her. With a soft pop, he landed on the bed, and she immediately climbed on top of him.

"You're just placating me. You could win even without those things! Even if you have to destroy them in the end, you'll replace them with something else and keep destroying my Britain!"

"Ah, I didn't..."

"You did this last time too. You kept putting me off, again and again. By the time you hand Britain over to me, who knows what it'll have become... I can't take it anymore. I want an answer from you right now. If you don't agree, I'll do it myself!"

Morgan stood up, her tone resolute, and looked down at Leon. The tender look in her eyes was gone, replaced by determination.

"I mean it!"

Leon sat up to face her. Her expression was unyielding, and pale golden strands of hair clung to the outer corners of her widened eyes, revealing the madness in her nature.

She was serious!

"No! This is the future I chose for humanity, and the future Britain is destined to have. No one can stop it!"

"But Britain's past is my future!"

Morgan's voice grew increasingly hysterical.

"You've never cared about me! You don't care about my hopes or my vision! I married you and even bore you two children, but all you want is my body. You've never once considered my feelings! You only care about yourself!"

After pouring out that long string of words in one breath, Morgan was left panting.

Ignoring the rise and fall of her pale breasts, Leon said flatly, "You wanted to kill me back then, and even now you haven't given up on that idea!"

"But I love you."

"Our marriage was a political one to begin with."

"—"

Morgan's eyes flew wide. The muscles at the inner corners of her eyes sank, and her pupils shrank to pinpoints, trembling as they revealed her terrible disbelief.

Seeing that she seemed to have calmed down, Leon tried to reassure her. "I'll do what I promised. Once I take Europa, I'll hand Britain over to you."

"Gawain and Agravain will meet with you soon. I hope they can help you calm down."