White Castle was vast... immensely so.
Designed from the start as a fortress to house a hundred thousand, this city, built by fairies and humans together, stood as a marvel. Though its current population was less than thirty percent of its planned capacity... a "ghost city" by later standards... it was undeniably the most vibrant and welcoming place on the island.
The City of Flowers, Camelot... so future generations might call it.
"I'm exhausted…" Mash said.
After twenty minutes of walking, her cheeks flushed, her breathing uneven.
Her frail constitution was to blame.
Born for the grand purpose of "saving the world." She'd grown up in a sterile environment, her body weaker than half that of her peers.
Yet, despite reaching her physical limit, she refused to stop.
As if determined to expend her last ounce of strength, she pressed forward, eyes wide at the bustling sights, unwilling to miss a single detail.
"Take a break." Alaric said.
He saw her exhaustion and the longing in her eyes.
She no longer wanted to merely "observe."
She yearned to engage with this vibrant city, to live its life.
"There's a place ahead that sells fruit wine... pretty good stuff." He added.
"And for you, they'll probably give you a cup for free."
"Really? Is that okay?" Mash asked, eyes wide.
Of course it was.
It was Artoria's decree, announced when the city was built, and a rule the residents eagerly upheld, even competed to honor:
Outsiders... be they from other British kingdoms, Saxons, Picts, or even distant Romans... were welcomed with open arms in this city.
"Behold, this is our sacred Camelot, our magnificent White Castle." The people would say.
"This glory we shall not keep to ourselves... it must be shared with the world, to show we live in a truly great era!"
Half an hour later, Alaric and Mash emerged with difficulty from the bustling commercial street.
They carried a small cask of berry-made fruit wine... but that wasn't all.
In a basket gifted by an enthusiastic resident were three loaves of bread, a pair of roasted chicken legs, a handful of pine nuts, and various trinkets.
"Are the people here always this kind to outsiders?" Mash asked.
On a park's stone bench, now more at ease, Mash shed her initial reserve. Sprawling unladylike across the table, she sipped the sweet wine, catching her breath.
The white creature called Fou scampered to the basket, expertly shelling pine nuts to eat.
"It's like paradise." Mash said.
The refreshing wine soothed her nerves, sharpening her perception of the city:
"A beautiful, almost illusory city that shouldn't exist in this world."
That was her considered judgment.
Truth be told, raised in Chaldea, she'd never seen another human settlement. But she wasn't naive... just pure. She'd read books, browsed the internet, and learned about the outside world. She could swear that even in the advanced 21st century, no city's residents matched those here: harmonious, hospitable, proud yet humble, never belittling outsiders.
Though her time here was brief, Mash genuinely loved this city... its serene yet uplifting atmosphere.
No one could dislike such a place.
But amid her awe, a nagging thought stirred doubt:
"Can a city like this truly exist in the modern world?"
The Palace, Round Table Hall.
Since its construction, this grand hall had never been so lively.
Kay, Bedivere, Lamorak, Tristan, Percival, Bors.
Gawain, Gareth, Gaheris, Agravain, Mordred, Lancelot.
Six living Knights of the Round Table, six summoned from the Throne of Heroes.
Joined by Artoria, their king, and Merlin, her advisor.
Save for the "Knight of Calamity." Absent for reasons unknown, the king's Round Table was complete.
But this "reunion" was no joyful gathering of old friends.
Far from harmonious, the knights were steeped in old grudges, their tension palpable, verging on drawn swords.
Take Gawain and Lancelot... if not for Artoria's swift intervention, the holy sword imbued with solar power would have ignited.
"In summary, my knights, this is the situation." Artoria said.
"I know there are conflicts among you, but I ask you to refrain from violence in this city."
"The sanctuary permits no discord, the world no strife. Those who bear swords must wield them for justice, our cause untainted by shadows."
Her voice carried grave authority.
It was a warning.
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