Lancelot had not lied.
At the border between the desert and the wasteland stood a camp-like shelter so enormous that it left people clicking their tongues in amazement.
"So, so many people... and all kinds of them." Mash had already gone blank with shock.
People came and went throughout the camp—Mountain People, desert folk, and Mash even spotted several people dressed like residents of the Holy City.
A camp like this clearly could not have been built in just a day or two. It could already be called a large village.
"These... are all Sir Lancelot's?" Percival looked at Lancelot in astonishment.
In his impression, Lancelot was not this kind of person.
"I merely felt that... even if it was futile, I ought to do something, at least." Lancelot gave a rather self-mocking smile.
"You've built a camp like this, and you're still hesitating?" Anno's face darkened at a visible rate.
You'd gone this far already, yet you were still struggling inside? What the hell were you struggling for?!
"I..." Lancelot did not know how he ought to explain himself either.
"So Sir Lancelot really did rebel against the Lion King. That's wonderful!" Mash said excitedly, but it was as though she had punched Lancelot in the stomach, leaving him miserable for quite a while.
"...Although I have already pledged myself to you, there is still something I must make clear first." Lancelot sighed, composed himself, and looked gravely at his father. "There remains a possibility that I may pose a threat to you. However, that threat does not come from my own will."
"...You mean the Vile King's power?" Anno narrowed his eyes.
Lancelot nodded. "More accurately... it is another blessing bestowed by the Lion King."
"The Vile King has long ceased to be the Vile King. That dragon