Late April.
Whether it was food production, the military, people's livelihood, or technology, Camelot was steadily improving, just as Arthur had anticipated.
Meanwhile, Merlin's prophecy from ten years ago echoed in the background: "The incarnation of the red dragon will lead the Knights of the Round Table to repel the white dragon." This fate compelled Arthur to establish the Knights of the Round Table.
In traditional history, the Knights of the Round Table were a band of powerful knights led by Arthur himself. Regardless of beliefs or factions, they upheld honor, voiced equal opinions, and guided the kingdom toward a just future. It sounded noble, romantic, and steeped in legend.
Compared to the current British Isles, this system was quite advanced—almost like a parliament.
But in Arthur's view, this was putting the cart before the horse.
If you believe your ideals are true and will lead you to your ideal reality, why not consolidate power in the king's hands?
A council of diverse wills would only become a stumbling block.
So, Arthur initially rejected nearly all of Merlin's suggestions about the Round Table.
Ultimately, the Knights of the Round Table became the highest honorary title in Camelot—bestowed only on knights whose contributions were widely recognized by both the people and Arthur himself.
That's right: an empty title without any real power.
If knights found appeal in it, it was only for the honor.
Thus, even before his coronation, Arthur had steeled himself for questions—and opposition.
Yet unexpectedly, this didn't dampen enthusiasm. It only fueled fanatical support for Arthur.
He recalled the morning's cheers: "Long live the king!"
So what was going on?
Did people care more for empty glory than for real power and tangible benefits?
This was nonsense!
"Ahem! Everyone, I understand your pride in joining the Knights of the Round Table—being admired, gaining glory," Arthur tried to remain calm as he addressed the knights and ministers.
But frankly, he didn't get it.
Admiration? Glory?
What good was that on an empty stomach?
"What excites you so much?"
"But many problems still plague Camelot. Especially now—please listen carefully. Every detail will determine when the war with Rome begins. We are strong, yes, but Rome is stronger. If we recklessly provoke that giant, we will pay a heavy price."
Hearing this, the knights were unhappy about the strategy of showing weakness to Rome.
But it wasn't Arthur who faced their displeasure—it was Rome.
No matter what Arthur said, they obeyed—even begrudgingly, even at great cost.
The king's wisdom was boundless, always right and unquestionable!
Long live the king!
Everyone nodded in unison.
"You all agree… very well," Arthur said, baffled.
He felt something was off about this group.
He glanced at the five knights recently appointed to the Round Table.
The first seat: Lancelot, naturally.
Second: Gawain.
Third: Skadi.
Fourth: Kay.
Fifth: Kikyo.
No explanation was needed for Lancelot, Gawain, and Kay. They had followed Arthur through countless battles, serving loyally during Camelot's darkest days.
Sure, their journey had unexpected events, but their strength was undeniable.
Especially after Gawain acquired the Sword of Rotating Victory. His individual combat prowess had forced Arthur to reconsider the power of knights. Given enough time, Gawain could have easily wiped out the 10,000 Saxon army alone.
Lancelot's swordsmanship was on par, able to face Gawain head-on and even defeat him over time.
Kay's fighting ability was no less impressive.
Kay was simply indifferent to fame. After securing his place, he lost interest in competing for rank and settled for fourth.
Skadi, although currently unable to wield magic, was a formidable warrior.
When Camelot began crafting imitation holy swords and magic swords, she personally hunted down all the magic beasts, ensuring timely supplies of magical materials.
Her efficiency amazed even Gawain and the others.
Though this feat remained secret outside Camelot, it earned Skadi a seat at the Round Table.
The silver-haired, red-eyed woman was unusually close to Arthur, spending much time with him—even sharing a bed. Ostensibly a queen, she behaved like a spoiled favorite, drawing complaints from everyone but Arthur and fueling Morgan's jealousy.
What? Was this a love song at work?
Manaka was certainly busy.
Finally, Kikyo took the last seat.
This foreign girl was unfamiliar with the British Isles, aloof and indifferent, barely communicating.
At first, people thought she was mute, but Arthur confirmed it was a language barrier—much like Skadi's.
Now, under Merlin's guidance, both could communicate normally.
Camelot later trained its first true archer unit, led by Kikyo, who also became Arthur's knight.
Camelot's attitude toward foreigners was the friendliest around.
Since returning home wasn't an option, choosing the best king to rule was a practical choice.
Surprisingly, Aguguiwen missed out on a Round Table seat, relegated to civil service.
Overall, Arthur valued this inaugural group highly.
"Do the Knights of the Round Table have any objections?" Arthur asked casually.
They were all formidable warriors and indispensable tools.
"None," came the unanimous response.
"The will of our king is Camelot's path forward."
Similar phrases echoed—all meaning the same:
Our king is the truth. Anyone who questions him will meet my sword (or arrow)!
Unity from top to bottom, absolute and unwavering.
"Very good! Prepare yourselves. Roman envoys arrive this afternoon! Merlin, the rest is yours. Understand?"
Arthur's glance at the white-haired mage spoke volumes.
It was finally Merlin's turn to contribute.
Even if it drained his magic to the bone, he had to fulfill the task.
Hide the farmlands, paper mills, armories, and other cutting-edge creations.
Arthur refused to risk premature war with Rome.
The Knights of the Round Table drew their weapons and dragged Merlin away before he could resist.
Some secrets simply could not be exposed.