Compromising with the kings and providing assistance, Camelot is continuously exporting resources?
No. That's just waiting for the moment of the final harvest.
Honestly, people of this era are not stupid. Rather, their minds are surprisingly straightforward, lacking many twists and turns.
Arthur could even guess what the kings were thinking as they left Camelot: "King Arthur is so foolish—he's still young." Or something like that.
Suspicion aside, Arthur's trade proposal was certainly doubted. But what else could the kings do besides trading? So they relaxed their minds and thought: if one side handled farming, another war horses, and another fighting, then trading between them would greatly improve efficiency.
The northern kings, after completing the first transaction and tasting the sweetness of success, would only become more convinced.
"Remember, the mystery of this island is fading. In the past, on the island of Britain—this land of the Age of Gods—people could fill their stomachs by simply picking fruit from the trees, even without deliberately growing crops." Arthur laughed as he spoke.
That smile was not one of nostalgia, but mockery of the present situation.
Back then, people migrating to the British Isles felt carefree, as if they had found paradise.
It is precisely because of that paradise that today's backward farming technology exists.
How far have we lagged?
Turning over land, throwing in seeds, and then waiting for the harvest season—that's the entirety of their farming method. It's a joke.
When Arthur learned this, he was dumbfounded and thought it a miracle the people survived.
But this land, mysteriously blessed, still produced decent harvests.
Today, the only place where one can still reap a decent harvest with such a laughable method is the small area around Camelot.
That is why Camelot is called Paradise.
That is why the people of Camelot can laugh.
But elsewhere, it is a different story.
The farming technology is so backward it defies complaint—especially in the north, where war rages year-round and disasters strike frequently.
Not to mention bountiful harvests, they should be thankful if not many die from starvation or freezing each year.
"So compared to farming—which requires little effort and yields little reward—it is far more efficient to obtain food through trade. And with the threat of the Saxons looming, every war is a test of their granary. They cannot do without Camelot's aid. If we withhold food and send no troops, the North will fall in a few years."
"They should be grateful for your kindness, my king."
"Kindness? Mercy? Those words have nothing to do with me. 'Cruelty' is a more appropriate description. Don't worry. They'll soon realize that trading minerals for food is simpler and more profitable, and they will become dependent on us. Once we suddenly cut off the food supply—guess what they'll do?"
"Rob us. Or surrender to the Saxons."
"They won't surrender to the Saxons. The Saxons have no food either, or they wouldn't wage war every year. They'll rob—but unfortunately, there's no food anywhere but Camelot. By then, we will have built a solid, magnificent wall. So they'll have only one choice: surrender to me. Even if the kings don't choose, their people will choose for them."
As soon as Arthur finished, Kay immediately understood.
"By then, the food stockpiled will feed them. We'll accept refugees and directly take over the land. That's what you meant by victory without losing a single soldier."
Kay's excitement was obvious.
The plan itself wasn't complicated or difficult to understand.
What was challenging for Camelot was how to store enough food.
"That's why the king said we should produce luxury goods and trade with Rome for sufficient food."
"No, Lord Kay, that deal would be too unprofitable. We will stockpile grain ourselves, and I have ways to increase production. The deal with Rome is for better progress."
"But there is still one problem, my king," Lancelot frowned.
"What?"
"The covenant, my king. You made a covenant with the other kings. It must be observed until the Saxons are driven back."
"Haha, the covenant. It's because of that that we can trade once, twice, countless times, gradually gaining trust. When they fully trust me and give up farming, we won't have to abide by the covenant. The so-called covenant is meant to be torn apart."
Arthur said it with sarcasm.
Well, shameless as it was.
Countries are always at war.
Some conflicts are in the light, visible to all.
Others are in the dark—unseen but more deadly.
There has never been true peace in human history.
A covenant is just a piece of worthless paper against Camelot's interests.
An offensive and defensive alliance?
Don't be ridiculous.
Only when strength is equal can it be called an alliance.
When one side has absolute advantage, it's domination and vassalage.
What Arthur wanted was more radical.
He wanted Camelot to be the strongest party in the alliance—and then transform domination into rule.
Honor, loyalty?
Fantasy products glorifying losers.
To become strong, one must use any means necessary.
After sharing his plans for Camelot and the future of Britain, Arthur fell silent and stared at Lancelot and Gawain.
Too many things in the world can't be explained clearly—and therefore can't be trusted.
But in Arthur's heart, there was only one thing he could trust: human nature.
He had great faith in mankind's innate traits—greed, corruption, depravity, and impulsiveness.
It might sound negative, but it was true.
There is no absolute loyalty, no eternal submission.
Once a small change occurs, no matter the promise, loyalty, or longing, everything can change and reverse in an instant.
Therefore—
"You are disappointed, right? King Arthur has proposed such despicable plans. You see, rumors of the loyal, brave, and kind king are all unbelievable. My true self is not bright and dazzling—but bottomless darkness. Following me will keep you away from the glory you yearn for. Do you regret it?"
Arthur closed his eyes.
If the knights ever betrayed Camelot, all the covenants and traps would be wasted.
"Ah, I do regret it. It's really a headache to serve a king who always doubts the loyalty of his subordinates. Such a king is too troublesome. I wonder if there is such a king in the world. I guess I need to exercise my heart more in the future, or I won't be able to do my job."
Kay complained and lightly punched Lancelot.
Lancelot smiled knowingly and said, "Isn't it? I'm sure the future will be tough, so my king, please don't let us work too hard."
"I have indeed heard your complaints," Arthur laughed. "Unfortunately, I will only become more willful. Prepare yourselves to serve a difficult king."
Yes, without eternal loyalty, human nature inevitably decays and degenerates.
But at this moment, the knights' loyalty would not waver.