Pindo shook his head and sat up on the tree branch, blinking at the canopy overhead.
Dawn was almost here. Had he actually fallen asleep?
He had dreamed of some old memories.
Lowering his head to look at his hands, a faint smile appeared at the corner of Pindo's mouth.
That guy Lyle... if he had to put it bluntly, Lyle was just like him—a pure person.
His reason for becoming a knight had been pure, and the path he took after becoming one had been even purer.
Pindo had steadfastly followed Anno, who had still been the commander of the Chalk Knights at the time, continuing on his own path as a knight.
And that fellow, who had come for fame and profit from the very beginning, had withdrawn at the most suitable moment. He married the baron's daughter he had won over, became a minor lord, stayed far from the center of political strife, lived out a peaceful life, and had probably died of old age in his own castle.
As for himself...
Shaking his head once more, Pindo flipped down from the tree.
He was very proud of his own ending.
Still, there were some regrets.
Although he had protected the island of Britain and kept it from falling into the hands of those fairies, the King was gone, and the Kingdom of Britain the King had treasured so dearly had been utterly destroyed at its most glorious moment.
Or perhaps he should think about what Sir Bedivere had been feeling then?
He was the only Knight of the Round Table to survive the Human-Dragon War at Camlann, living on as a representative of the Kingdom of Britain's old era in the new age of the kingdom's collapse.
If he had the chance, he would ask him.