Dazed.
Anno lay in the bed in his quarters, staring silently at the wooden ceiling above him.
It had been half a month since he had fought Vortigern alongside King Uther.
At the end of that battle, he and King Uther had plunged their swords into Vortigern's chest together, but they hadn't been able to kill the Demon Dragon. Instead, they had only provoked the fury of the already-mad beast.
The gravely wounded Vortigern had swatted the exhausted King Uther aside with one claw, then whipped his tail hard into Anno. Afterward, he had flown away unsteadily.
King Uther had been lying in Camelot's Royal Court ever since, still unconscious. They said his injuries were extremely severe.
As for Anno, the blow had broken his left arm and left leg, several ribs, and caused varying degrees of damage to his internal organs. Still, he was much better off than King Uther, who was hovering on the brink of death.
Merlin had also helped treat Anno's injuries, and he would probably be able to get out of bed soon.
These days, Anno was mostly being cared for by the two servants they had hired.
The Royal Court.
A group of knights and Merlin sat in a room discussing matters. Seated to one side was King Uther's daughter, Morgan le Fay Pendragon.
A fat, red-faced knight glared at Merlin and snapped, "This is madness! The king's life hangs in the balance, which is why we need to appoint a new king as soon as possible. Otherwise, who will govern Britain?"
Merlin smiled, unruffled. "Before setting out to defeat Vortigern, the king already laid out his plans for the next six months, so you have no need to worry. Besides, I'm doing everything I can to treat him."
"You're a nonhuman monster! Who knows whether you're even trying to save the king!" another knight shouted, his voice fierce.
Merlin's gaze turned slightly colder.
Sir Ector spoke up. "The king's will must be obeyed. That is a knight's code! And yet here you are, rushing to appoint a new king. What are your true intentions?"
The loathsome knights fell silent at once, their eyes shifting uneasily.
At last, the fat, red-faced knight who had spoken first said bitterly, "In any case, I say we should appoint Princess Morgan le Fay as the new king as soon as possible. The king's condition is critical, and Britain faces threats from within and without. Do as you see fit!"
With that, he led his group out, taking the grieving young Morgan le Fay with them.
Merlin and Ector watched the room empty in an instant and sighed in unison.
The knight who had led them, a corpulent man with a round, fleshy face, was the brother of King Uther's late wife—and Princess Morgan le Fay's own uncle.
His eagerness to make Princess Morgan le Fay queen while King Uther lay gravely wounded was obvious, but he had considerable resources at his disposal, and Ector couldn't afford to make an enemy of him.
Merlin shook his head and went to check on the still-unconscious King Uther.
Even with Magecraft to aid his treatment, King Uther's condition remained grim. The worst injury was a huge claw mark across his chest, which had damaged his liver and intestines.
Merlin could only just keep King Uther alive for now. With treatment from every angle, he estimated that it would take another week for the king to regain consciousness.
The small kingdoms around Britain, as well as Rome and France farther away—and the Saxons, a branch of the Germans who had only just been driven back—had all heard of King Uther's grave injuries. Now they were like packs of green-eyed wolves, watching Britain's plump carcass intently.
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