King Arthur turned around, the shadows covering half of his face, and his voice was as deep as if coming from underground.
"How big?"
Ian's heart trembled.
"Big enough..."
King Arthur's fingers lightly tapped the sword hilt, "big enough for everyone to end up doomed."
Ian frowned.
"Why?"
He pondered deeply. King Arthur was silent for a moment, seemingly organizing his words. Finally, he sighed, "Because the God of Death went mad long ago."
When he said this.
King Arthur had a lingering fear.
Who knows what he had experienced before.
"Mad?"
Ian was slightly stunned.
This statement was like a heavy hammer, fiercely striking Ian's heart.
Just see.
King Arthur continued speaking.
"He was originally the embodiment of rules, the guardian of the boundary of life and death, should not have emotions, should not have desires." King Arthur's voice carried an ancient heaviness, "But at some point, he got tainted by humanity—anger, greed, obsession... these things that shouldn't belong to him made him twisted."
Ian was thoughtful.
"Rules do not need their own joys and sorrows, right?"
He began to understand what madness meant,
"Just like ironclad laws." King Arthur nodded, a trace of complex emotion flashing in his eyes, "Once ironclad laws are tainted by human affairs, they become a joke. And the God of Death, after gaining humanity..."
"Became a madman." Ian interjected. He looked down at his palm, with the cold eyes of the God of Death appearing in his mind, indeed containing a taste of hatred.
This emotion shouldn't appear in the embodiment of ironclad laws.
"That's right."
A sharp light flashed in King Arthur's eyes.
"I saw him being sealed," he said.
Arthur smiled gently, with a hint of joy in that smile, firmly patting Ian on the shoulder, "Yes, only a God of Death who cannot roam freely is beneficial to the human world."
Ian looked up at him, "Then the Raven did a good deed, right?"
To this.
King Arthur neither confirmed nor denied.
"Who knows, let's not talk about this."
His attitude shifted too quickly, catching Ian off guard. But King Arthur had already turned to the door, calling out to the yard, "Ariana! Stop practicing swordsmanship!"
Ariana, who was practicing swordsmanship on the other side of the square, heard the call and promptly withdrew her sword and turned around, walking over quickly. Though beads of sweat dotted her forehead, her eyes remained bright.
"What's the matter?"
She looked towards King Arthur.
"Let's go to the tavern." Arthur waved his hand with a smile, "The wine I brewed earlier is ready today, let's celebrate a bit."
Ian and Ariana exchanged a glance, both a little surprised.
"You can brew wine too?" Ian raised an eyebrow. Although he knew about King Arthur's previous wine brewing attempt, he hadn't expected King Arthur would actually succeed instead of ending up with a batch of garbage.
"Of course!" Arthur's face beamed with pride, "I'm a jack-of-all-trades."
The three walked shoulder to shoulder to the tavern at the center of the small town, as dappled light filtered through the tree leaves, and the air was filled with the fragrance of baked bread, making it exceptionally comforting.
This "Round Table Tavern" in the town center was a recent whimsical creation of King Arthur.
A crooked round table was painted on the wooden sign.
Beside it was scrawled the words "Knights and lazy dogs, all are welcome."
Pushing the door open, the rich scent of wine hit them. King Arthur strode to the bar, poured out three glasses of amber liquid from a wooden barrel, but suddenly pulled them back when handing them to Ian and Ariana.
"No," he shook his head seriously, "you two kids can't drink."
Ariana puffed up her cheeks, "Why not?"
"Bad habit," King Arthur righteously said, then took a big gulp of his own drink, exhaling contently, "But me—I love bad habits!"
Ariana rolled her eyes, "You're not much older than us."
"I'm a king," Arthur retorted confidently, "A king can be the exception."
With that, he took another gulp, sighing with satisfaction, "Ah, this is life."
Ian couldn't help but roll his eyes.
King Arthur laughed heartily, turning to bring out a large platter of roast meat from the kitchen, the aroma of grease instantly filling the entire tavern. "Try it, my new recipe."
Ariana eagerly forked a piece, puffing and blowing as she ate while unwilling to spit it out. Ian, leisurely cutting the meat, couldn't help but ask, "Are you really going to open a tavern here?"
He thought King Arthur must have lost his mind since besides him, he had only seen Teacher Morgan and one other Dumbledore who has already left over the years in this small town.
A younger descendant of the Dumbledore family.
Ian's mind couldn't help but recall that young man riding a Phoenix.
Who knows if that man has been reincarnated.
"Of course!"
King Arthur took another swig of wine.
"Being a king is too tiring, being a knight is too busy, being a tavern owner suits me better."
He leaned at a tilt on the bar, sunlight casting colored patterns through the stained glass on his face. At this moment, he didn't look like the legendary king, but like an ordinary, happy drunkard.
Ian watched them and suddenly felt—that no matter how mad the God of Death went, no matter what the Raven planned, at least at this moment, there seemed to be some eternal beauty in the small town.
"There's no patrons at the tavern."
Ian ultimately couldn't hold back.
"There will be."
King Arthur appeared confident.
"Your skills aren't bad."
Ariana spoke in praise.
"Really going to open a tavern?"
She also seemed to think that opening a tavern in a small town like theirs seemed pointless.