"There's something wrong with you!"
So did Lancelot, and now so does Gawain.
"Don't blush! I'm really panicking when you do this!"
Arthur felt like he was surrounded by a group of gays and had no idea why they were targeting him.
Just like that, his thoughts went astray, and the thought popped into his mind: Perhaps Gawain is nicknamed Gwen for the literal meaning.
What the hell are the Knights of the Round Table?
At this moment, Merlin either realized the situation was not good or wanted to struggle again, but he spoke anyway: "Then this competition will be judged by me, the Flower Magician Merlin. Now declare: the duel begins!"
The moment his voice fell, three knights behind Arthur immediately charged.
At first, Arthur sighed. There was nothing he could do about these wild knights who had joined temporarily, had never received unified training, and did not obey orders.
But when Arthur noticed the flash of cherry-colored magic in the eyes of the three knights who rushed out, he suddenly realized Merlin was truly the pinnacle of magicians. Even though Morgan tried his best to defend himself, Merlin still succeeded.
"Illusion?"
"My king, you said illusion—could it be...?" Lancelot glared in Merlin's direction, feeling a little dissatisfied.
"It's okay, Sir Lancelot. No need to be angry. It's already very good that Merlin didn't attack directly. The three knights have only lost a little face." Arthur waved his hand, signaling the knights to calm down.
Just as he said this, the three knights who charged seemed to hold nothing back, but were still knocked down cleanly by Artoria alone.
"Well, my original plan was to send out a maximum of ten knights, win without any casualties, and achieve an overwhelming victory." Arthur said helplessly.
Of course, this was just a lie.
No losses?
What a joke! The opponents are Artoria and Gawain; their strength is not on the same level as ours.
At least here, there would definitely be injured people.
"Well, let's officially begin now! Knights, stay where you are. Sir Lancelot, I'll leave my sister in your care. With you, victory is certain—I believe that." Arthur waved his hand and began to give orders.
"Knight Lancelot, you will not bring shame to our king!"
Lancelot was very happy about Arthur's "trust" and strode forward with a confident smile.
Then Arthur said to Agravain, who was closest to him, "You should be aware of Gawain's strength. Even if the remaining knights attack together, they will ultimately be defeated. So I can only leave it to you, Agravain. Use your life to hold him back and force him to be unable to move. How about it? Can you do it?"
It was an incomprehensible order.
But Agravain knew very well that Arthur needed a victory—and Gawain would never kill him.
"I understand. Leave it to me." Agravain responded softly.
"Knight Agravain, lead six men to face Gawain. Only you, equally powerful, can deal with that mighty knight." Arthur regained his normal voice and gave the order with a smile.
"I will obey the king's order."
Agravain gathered five knights and quickly faced Gawain.
In fact, he and Gawain didn't have a good relationship, but they understood each other's character. Like Morgan, Gawain was easy to predict—he was humble and loyal, firmly believing in and adhering to justice. He could be said to be a knight as dazzling as the sun.
However, the more dazzling and upright one is, the easier it is to deal with him.
At least as Gawain's brother, Agravain could easily restrain him, and at most, he would suffer some minor injuries and lose some face.
And face was what Agravain cared least about.
That thing had no value to him—he was a practical person.
For a moment, a fierce battle broke out.
Agravain was suppressed by Gawain, but Gawain was restrained, and the fight turned into a stalemate.
Lancelot suppressed Artoria tightly, and everyone could see that victory was only a matter of time.
The battlefield was divided into two clear sides, and the outcome was basically determined.
Although Arthur was not killed directly, this battle was undoubtedly a fight between kings. Once Artoria was defeated, no matter how powerful Gawain was on the other side, it would lose all meaning.
"As the king of a country, he actually went onto the battlefield himself. Should we call it bravery or recklessness?" Arthur watched the battle calmly.
For a king, appearing on the battlefield is not meaningless. It can win people's hearts and boost morale. When soldiers see their king, they know all escape routes are cut off. If the king dies in battle, the country will soon fall. Therefore, whether soldier or general, they will do everything to win.
It can be said that sometimes a monarch directly commanding the army can trigger a miracle that reverses a desperate situation.
But this can only happen once—not again. When soldiers get used to the king's direct leadership, their morale will not be boosted even in real fights.
After all, in Arthur's mind, the king is the most important person in a kingdom and the figure who determines its direction.
If we regard the country as a human body, the soldiers are the limbs, the people the blood, laws and royal power the organs, and the king the brain.
Even if the limbs are cut off, the body can survive—but without the brain, it cannot think. Even if the "body" is alive, it cannot move forward or act. A paralyzed kingdom is no different from death. Since the brain is a fragile but crucial position, one can train the body to be strong, but must never put the brain in danger.
That would be stupid.
However, on this British island, it had become tradition for kings to go to war.
Especially in Camelot, almost no king avoided fighting alongside his soldiers.
"This is a completely bad habit. It's really stupid. After all, he is a king, not just a warrior. We need to find a way to change this mindset. The king can't die so easily. Besides..."
Arthur was very afraid of death.
Just as he was lost in thought, something unexpected happened on the battlefield.
With a sharp clang of steel, Artoria swung away the sword in Lancelot's hand and rushed toward Arthur at incredible speed, swinging the knight's sword and slashing down mercilessly.
When Arthur came to his senses, all he could see was a cold light.
Die! You will die——!
Arthur thought he had been calm and prudent enough in dealing with Artoria. He had arranged dozens of countermeasures for each step and strategy, adjusting for every possible change. The plan was sophisticated, and the only possibility of failure was the huge difference in force.
Whether in skill, mentality, or physical fitness, he was far from a match for the Red Dragon. Once the battle was triggered, he would surely die.
And at this moment, it was exactly the situation he least wanted to see—no chance of winning.
One sword—just one sword—made Arthur's brain stop thinking instantly.
If you can't win, fighting back will only bring unnecessary ugliness.
Do you want to surrender?
However, it turned out he had always underestimated himself and the knight named 'Arthur.'
His body made a quicker decision than his mind. His muscle memory allowed him to swing the sword with such perfection that even Merlin was amazed.
The gorgeous Sword of Selection, with its sharp blade, cut the long sword like paper, and finally the tip of the sword stopped at Artoria's heart.
Winner!
It was full of surprises, but with an absolutely overwhelming and shocking scene, they reaped the fruits of victory with their own hands.
"Will the sword of the king bring victory..."