[Those fools are always causing trouble for the king on their own.]
This was a saying from a parallel world's Merlin about the Knights of the Round Table, but it fit King Leodegrance surprisingly well.
"We are all Celts, Britons who have lived on this island for generations. Now, our homeland is being invaded by foreigners, and shameless false kings have invited overseas raiders. Our very survival is at stake!"
"In such times, how can we turn our blades against each other?"
This king, deemed "talentless" by Merlin, traveled far and wide, preaching the "great cause" Of the Celts. He even sought out Morgan, taking her hand to reminisce about the days he served alongside her father.
Comments like, "Do you remember me? I held you when you were little!" left Morgan so embarrassed she could've clawed a palace out of the ground with her toes.
"Sorry, Uncle Leo."
"This is our private matter... even if Father were here, I'd say the same."
Unable to reveal the truth, Morgan had to give the aging but still passionate king a polite rejection.
It was the ninth rejection he'd received.
…
The march to war could not be halted by any single will.
Even Morgan, the "instigator" Of this conflict, couldn't stop the Briton kings, now sharpening their blades and eager to carve up the spoils.
... In truth, she was merely a spark, igniting the desires already burning in their hearts.
Yet, even in this irreversible tide, some rowed against the current, making one final effort.
"Father."
In the palace of King Pellinore's kingdom.
A tall, imposing young knight stood in the empty hall, addressing the man on the throne with a voice full of confusion.
"It's a trap!"
"A scheme woven by Princess Morgan and the Red Dragon King!"
"Their goal is to take us all down in one fell swoop. I don't believe you can't see it!"
The young man gazed at the king, bearer of the [Hero] title, with puzzled eyes. He'd once wondered if age had dulled his father's once-sharp mind.
But seeing the glint in his father's eyes, he realized: everything he'd seen through, his father had understood long ago.
"And so what if I see it?"
"So what? We don't have to join this! Can the Red Dragon King attack us without cause?"
"If she did, her claim to righteousness would collapse!"
The young prince spoke with confidence.
He was a prodigy of his era, excelling in both martial prowess and intellect. He easily saw through the red dragon sisters' plot and devised countermeasures on the spot.
The old king looked at his heir, painstakingly raised, with a mix of pride and regret.
He believed this young prince had the ability to govern the kingdom... but sadly, that talent would likely go unused.
"You're right."
"It's exactly as you say... a trap to bury us."
"But I cannot retreat. Anyone else can, but not me."
King Pellinore rose from his throne, taking down the dark red lance from the palace wall, his companion for forty years.
This lance was proof of his heroism, once earning him the world's praise.
But who knew it was also a curse?
Those who wielded this dark red magical lance had no option to retreat. Their lives were destined for the charge, until they fell in the grandest of battles.
To die on the battlefield... that was the most glorious end for a hero.
"Father, you…"
"Don't interrupt. Let me finish!"
"Listen, Lamorak, my proudest son!"
"I command you to leave this place and pledge yourself to the true Red Dragon King."
"The magus's prophecy is never wrong. She is truly destined to save Britain."
…
This was a war fought in winter.
With ten kings involved, it would later be known as the "Battle of the Ten Kings."
It was a war with little worth describing, in process or outcome.
On one side were thirty thousand ordinary soldiers; on the other, a supercharged mother dragon who could unleash beams of light.
[Caliburn]... the holy sword imbued with the sun's might... was a master at clearing fodder. A single sweep could fell thousands.
Some died, but most were merely wounded. Artoria carefully controlled her power to preserve as many of these "elite" lives as possible.
King Pellinore was the only enemy left standing on the battlefield.
This king, bearing the [Hero] title, was truly exceptional, holding his own against the Red Dragon King's onslaught.
"No less than the king who, in history, broke the ahoge sister's Sword in the Stone."
From the clouds, Alaric watched the battle... specifically, King Pellinore, charging at Artoria with his magical lance.
In the original history, Pellinore had dueled Artoria once before, a fight the honorable Knight King deemed a disgrace.
In that duel, Artoria's violation of knightly honor led to her [Sword in the Stone], symbol of her kingship, being shattered by her foe.
But this time? Could he break the holy sword of solar might?
Alaric was curious to see how far this [Hero King] could go against such overwhelming odds.
But hold on...
Neigh!
As King Pellinore, mid-charge, suddenly reined in his horse.
His body lurched forward from the momentum.
Instead of correcting his stance, he used that forward surge, raising his arm and hurling his dark red magical lance at the white dragon in the sky without hesitation.
"Huh?"
"He's aiming at me?!"
"Is he insane?!"
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