Britain's Foodie

Ten minutes later, just the same.

An area centered on Anno was littered with the severed limbs and broken arms of Orcs, crimson blood splattered across the earth. Yet, standing in the midst of it all, Anno remained calm, using a handkerchief to wipe the Chalk Holy Sword, which had barely been stained by the carnage.

His bright silver armor shimmered in the sunlight, and his distinguished temperament, paired with his rugged features, left the three youngsters deeply shaken.

"You're so strong, Uncle Anno!" Kay shouted excitedly.

"Father is the strongest!" Lancelot, Anno's foster son, said with pride.

Artoria did not speak, but the gaze she fixed upon Anno held a hint of longing.

"Your talents are all excellent." Anno sheathed the Chalk Holy Sword and walked back. "Over the next year, I will forge the three of you into the ultimate executioners." His tone was as calm as if he were discussing what to have for dinner.

From then on, Anno rarely took action himself, choosing instead to select suitable opponents and assign them to the three youngsters.

He only picked humanoid creatures that craved flesh and war, taking care not to disturb the Fairies, Dwarves, or Elves.

He would not disrupt the peace of these friendly beings who had helped him during his past travels.

At his core, Anno was a man who repaid both grudges and kindness in equal measure.

Thus, it was not so much the nation of Britain that he cared about, but rather the bloodline of Pendragon; this was the primary reason he refused to ascend the throne.

During the course of their training, Artoria was the most reckless and impulsive, always charging at the enemy first, with Kay and Lancelot following behind.

Because of this, Artoria suffered quite a few injuries.

Then, at night, she had to study the knowledge required of a king alongside Merlin.

She was incredibly earnest and eager, causing her brother Kay to sigh repeatedly.

"To let a young girl become king—why would this country make such a choice?" he muttered to himself.

"It is a mutual choice." Anno sat by the campfire, holding a large piece of roasted meat. "Britain chose her, and she chose Britain. It is as simple as that."

"Hmm." Kay shook his head. "I don't really understand."

"Sometimes it is better to be a little oblivious, especially when you are a subject." Anno stood up, patted Kay on the shoulder with a smile, and handed the roasted meat in his hand to Artoria.

Kay scratched his head. Wasn't that meat for me? And why is it better to be oblivious?

Lancelot sat to the side, clutching his own piece of roasted meat, watching Kay—who was being lectured and had no meat—with a sense of schadenfreude.

"Ah, thank you, Mr. Anno!" Artoria turned around and happily accepted the roasted meat from Anno.

She then devoured it in just a few bites.

Anno swallowed hard as he watched.

That was a piece of roasted meat as large as a thigh.

Although he had heard from Ector that this little girl had a massive appetite and ate very quickly, this was still...

In short, it was simply incredible.

It looked like he would need to brush up on his cooking skills.

"Does she always eat like that?" Anno asked Kay as he picked up another piece of meat and began roasting it over the fire.

Kay nodded, accustomed to it. "Yeah, Lia has always had a great appetite. But no matter how much Lia eats, she never gains weight."

What an enviable constitution.

Lancelot focused on eating his meat, not even a quarter of the way through his own portion.