Shattered Chalk

"Captain Anno, you mean..." Lamorak's eyes lit up.

Anno nodded. "It looks like the war is about to start again. We need to prepare as quickly as possible."

"Yes, understood." Halfway through his reply, Lamorak's expression dimmed. "There aren't many knights left in Camelot now. More than half have left. As for the ones who remain..."

"Hmm?" Anno's brows furrowed. "Just say it. Don't hesitate."

"I understand. Most of those who remain have become casualties of Camelot's internal power struggles." Lamorak's expression darkened, and his voice caught in his throat.

Anno fell silent, the veins on his wrist standing out.

"Didn't I warn you all?" Anno fought to contain his grief and anger. These promising young people had become political casualties just like that. "I told you not to get involved in the nobles' power struggles inside Camelot!"

"On a battlefield, people kill with swords. But Camelot is more brutal than any battlefield, and its intrigues are sharper than any blade!"

"I know!" Lamorak grew agitated. "But what about you, Captain Anno? Didn't you leave us in Camelot to go find that King Arthur because of those so-called struggles?"

"We all understand how dangerous Camelot is. But with you gone, how could we possibly keep those filthy nobles from infiltrating our ranks?"

Anno froze in place, his arm trembling slightly.

He thought of Arthur's stubborn, youthful face, then of the knights he had trained himself.

He let out a long sigh.

"So, among those who haven't left or died, how many are still here? Who are they?" Anno asked with difficulty.

He didn't know whether leaving Camelot to find and raise Arthur had been right or wrong. He only knew that it had all been arranged long ago, as part of King Uther's plan, and that he himself had gone along with it willingly. That was all.

These brave, promising young knights had survived the battlefield, only to die in bustling Camelot because of the nobles' influence and his own negligence.

"I'm one of them. There are also Bedivere de Lion and Thomas Lair. Eleven of us in all. That's all who remain."

More than seventy had left, and more than twenty had died. Of the over one hundred members of the Britain Chalk Knights, only twelve remained, including their captain, Anno.

Anno opened his mouth, looking at Lamorak before him. He thought of the Royal Court, where no one had dared lay a hand on it when he had first returned to Camelot.

"Thank you for all your hard work, Lamorak."

"Letting them die in Camelot will be the greatest stain on my life. I bear an undeniable responsibility for their deaths."

"Captain Anno..." Lamorak didn't quite understand what he was trying to say.

"I'll bear this sin without flinching." Anno wouldn't regret his choices, but he grieved for these young people and felt guilty, too.

"But I'll also reclaim the honor they lost in Camelot." Anno didn't shed a tear. He simply steeled himself. Britain couldn't afford to grieve now.

"Deputy Captain Lamorak!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Gather every remaining member of the Britain Chalk Knights. Prepare to march!" Anno lifted his chin, his black hair veiling his eyes.

"The king's fury needs an outlet. So does mine." Anno gritted his teeth. "Rotten Camelot, when I return victorious, I'll set things right myself."

Lamorak forced himself to rally, too. "Understood!"

Hah. The filthy methods of adults.