More than three months had passed since Artoria set sail on her second expedition against Rome.
Sovell had entrusted the running of Britain entirely to Agravain and Mordred.
With his hands now free, he devoted himself wholeheartedly to the plan for ushering in the Age of Man.
All the necessary resources were ready.
Time alone was something he had in abundance, yet still lacked.
Meanwhile, the Royal Court drastically reduced taxes on the common people, the crops of the Age of Man yielded a plentiful harvest, and people once again sang the tales of Camelot.
Tristan and Isolde, Gawain and the Green Knight, the legend of the Holy Grail... and many others like them.
Yet beneath this outward prosperity, in the shadow of glory, a conspiracy that would overturn the entire kingdom quietly began to unfold.
"My child, how are your preparations coming along?"
"Everything is ready, Queen Mother. I only need you to make your move in the North. He trusts me deeply. He'll certainly take me with him."
"Very good. Rest assured, that day will not be long in coming.
Once he is gone, Britain will be ours. My child, remember: you are King Arthur's son. You are my son. That throne rightfully belongs to you.
But you must also understand that you are their destined enemy. When the time comes, you must not show any mercy. Do you understand?"
"Heh. You don't need to tell me. I understand perfectly, Queen Mother."
With that, the blonde girl with silver-white streaks in her hair shut the magical communication device in her hands, and the woman's phantom image above it vanished.
She looked at the armor stand beside her, at the familiar Horned Helmet and Iron Armor.
And beside them lay the longsword her Queen Mother had stolen from