"So, with that, our meeting is concluded."
Arthur sat back in his chair, lightly resting against the backrest as he watched the tribal chiefs leave one after another. Their figures gradually disappeared down the corridor, and only when the last of them was out of sight did he finally let out a long sigh of relief—something he had been holding in since the beginning of the meeting.
Why are these people so stubborn? Do they only cooperate when I pressure them? Can't we just unite and drive out the Saxons first?
If it weren't for Vortigern, they probably wouldn't have reached an agreement at all.
His thoughts echoed with a mix of frustration and exhaustion. He had expected resistance, but not that he would need to push them so directly to their limits just to get any concrete response.
"That was a bit unexpected. How did you come up with that method to intimidate them?" Artoria asked, observing Arthur closely.
Clearly, she had already understood the purpose behind it. In truth, Arthur had underestimated her. After all, Artoria had been trained to be a king—how could she not perceive the intent behind such a performance?
Even so, despite understanding the plan, she couldn't help but be surprised by how it had been executed.
Still, she had never imagined that Arthur would use such a… peculiar method to apply pressure.
"Hmm… I'd heard about it somewhere before, and the timing was perfect, so I used it," Arthur said, lightly scratching his cheek as if it were nothing special.
"Very well—better than I expected, King Arthur," said the man seated diagonally across from him, wearing a calm smile tinged with approval.
"Gawain, you flatter me. You were willing to cooperate. Otherwise, it would have been extremely embarrassing if I had to do everything alone." Arthur shook his head, without a trace of pride, speaking with almost disarming honesty.
Indeed, it would have been incredibly awkward if the Knights of the Round Table hadn't understood the meaning behind his words when he pointed at a horse and called it a deer.
Fortunately, those who could become Knights of the Round Table were not only strong—they also possessed intelligence, perception, and quick reflexes, both on and off the battlefield.
"You are the king, and we are the swords that guard your side. It is only natural that we cooperate with you," Artoria said calmly, her voice firm but without arrogance.
What reassuring words… Lily has grown so much…
Arthur looked at Artoria with a satisfied smile, his eyes carrying an almost paternal warmth, like someone watching a loved one mature.
Ah… even though he himself was practically the same age as her.
Noticing Arthur's prolonged gaze, Artoria tilted her head slightly in confusion.
"Is something wrong?"
"It's nothing, it's nothing…" Arthur waved his hand quickly, steering the conversation away before it became awkward. "In any case, according to the previous plan, in three days we will lead the legion south and reclaim the first territory occupied by the alien race."
His expression subtly shifted, becoming more serious.
"Sir Bedivere, you will enter through Duke Bell's territory and flank the enemy from the rear with one of the units to prevent any unforeseen incidents. Can you do that?"
Bedivere placed his right hand over his chest. His posture was firm, and his voice unwavering.
"I will do everything in my power to serve the king."
Arthur nodded, satisfied with the response.
"Then it's settled. Prepare yourselves—within three days, we will reclaim the first piece of land occupied by the Saxons."
His gaze swept across everyone present, and his voice grew stronger.
"This is not war. This is Britain. We are simply reclaiming what already belongs to us."
He paused briefly, then continued with a determined glint in his eyes:
"I want to see each of your lights shine on the battlefield… as Knights of the Round Table!"
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Their voices answered in unison, filled with conviction.
After this speech, the meeting was temporarily adjourned. However, when Arthur dismissed them, several people cast subtle yet apprehensive glances toward the woman seated at his side.
Noticing those emotions—fear, doubt, caution—Arthur frowned slightly.
He then turned his gaze toward the Knights of the Round Table.
"By the way… there is one more matter that I believe must be clarified now."
When all eyes turned to him, Arthur slowly stood.
"Princess Morgan is the daughter of the late king. Although she is called a witch by many, she has never committed immoral acts to deserve such a title. If we are to build a prosperous Britain, I hope no one carries unnecessary resentment."
He paused briefly, allowing his words to settle.
"Of course, even saying this, I know none of you will be able to completely dispel your doubts. So… let time prove what I say today."
His voice grew even firmer:
"I trust my judgment. Princess Morgan will not do anything that harms Britain."
Now, everything was unfolding exactly as Morgan le Fay had desired.
Arthur had pulled the sword from the stone. Artoria would no longer become the King of Britain.
Morgan le Fay's objectives had been achieved.
Naturally… there was no reason for her to turn against all of this now.
"Since King Arthur has given such a guarantee, we will naturally trust his judgment," Lancelot said, though his eyes still held doubt as he looked at Morgan.
Morgan clearly noticed those gazes.
Even so… she did not care.
She simply smiled.
To think that a few words could dispel the fear the Knights of the Round Table felt toward her was impossible.
But still… she appreciated the intention.
Artoria glanced toward Kay. His eyes, like those of the other knights, remained filled with caution as he looked at Morgan.
Seeing this, Artoria frowned slightly.
After all… it wouldn't be that simple.
"This is not a guarantee from me."
At that moment, Arthur's voice echoed once more:
"This is trust."
One of the knights raised an eyebrow slightly, clearly intrigued.
Trust… in a witch?
"What is a round table?" Arthur continued slowly. "A round table represents equality, trust, and unity."
He briefly turned his gaze toward Morgan before continuing:
"She is the daughter of the late king. And we have reason to believe she will contribute to Britain's prosperity."
Although, in the stories Arthur knew, Morgan le Fay was often associated with King Arthur's downfall… this world was different.
Here, the Land of Shadows existed beyond Britain.
Here, names like Ulster and Connaught held real, living meaning.
Cú Chulainn… Medb… Scáthach…
And beyond that…
Who ruled France?
Who commanded the Roman Empire?
All of it remained shrouded in mystery.
But for now… there was only one priority.
Drive out the Saxons.
Secure Britain's stability.
The rest… would come later.
The Knights of the Round Table remained silent for a few moments after his words.
Then, suddenly, Artoria stood up.
"I believe in Princess Morgan."
Her voice was firm, without hesitation.
The others exchanged glances.
Soon after, Gawain smiled faintly.
"Ah… then count me in."
"Then you can count on me as well," said Agravain.
Even if he disliked that "mother"…
It was necessary to take a stand.
Gradually, more voices joined in.
Even with lingering doubts, there was no longer any turning back.
According to the rules of the Round Table, when the majority agrees… the decision is made.
Thus, even if only provisionally, trust in Morgan le Fay was accepted.
"I know you don't fully believe in me yet," Arthur said at last. "But as I've already said… Princess Morgan will prove it through her actions."
He paused briefly.
"The meeting is adjourned."
With that, the meeting was officially concluded.
Morgan le Fay watched the knights leave, one by one.
Then she slowly stood.
Her eyes turned toward Arthur.
A gentle smile formed on her lips.
"I'm truly surprised… you're not as impulsive as I thought."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Were you bothered by the way they looked at your beloved Morgan? If that's the case… that's truly charming."
A glimmer of expectation appeared in her eyes.
Arthur shook his head.
"That's something you'll have to face sooner or later. If you want to control this country… the trust of the Knights of the Round Table is essential."
Morgan let out a soft sigh, then reached out and poked his cheek with some force.
"At a moment like this, you should say something like: 'I can't stand the way they look at Morgan… I need to clear her name… because she's a kind, beautiful, and gentle girl!'"
She narrowed her eyes slightly.
"That's what you should have said."
Arthur: "..."
"It's irritating when you stay silent like that. Do you want to end up like Vortigern?" Morgan said, her eyes half-lidded.
"Hmm… I can't stand the way they look at you… because you're a beautiful, kind, and gentle girl," Arthur repeated in an almost mechanical tone.
"Even if you repeat it like that so superficially… it won't make anyone happy!"
Morgan sighed, clearly dissatisfied.
She then brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and fell into thought.
It seems I'll need to teach him a small lesson…
But before that…
We need to find Merlin before he causes trouble.
(End of Chapter)