Chapter Fifteen: The King of Knights-The Roaming Homebody(Just a lolicon.)

Concealing his presence, Lancer followed Merlin and Toria all the way to the place where “Caliburn,” the Sword in the Stone, was embedded.

“Toria, look. This is your birthday gift,” Merlin, who had been leading the way, turned around to face Toria once they arrived.

“This—are you serious, Teacher? What gives me the right to—” Before Toria could finish, Merlin interrupted, “Right? Toria, haven’t you always wanted to know your origins? Then let me tell you: your father was once the king—Uther!”

First stunned by Caliburn, Toria was now struck dumb by Merlin’s revelation. She had always believed herself to be an orphan found by Merlin, and that her teacher withheld her past merely to help her study. She had never imagined her background to be so extraordinary.

“Why did my father entrust me to you?” Toria’s only wish now was to know why her father made such a decision. Although her teacher treated her kindly, whenever she saw other children with their parents, a shadow of loneliness crossed her face.

“At the time, even with my help, I alone could not support the kingdom. You are the prophesied king, and if your existence were known, it would shatter the fragile balance just restored. So your father entrusted you to me, asking me to teach you how to govern and to train you as a knight. He realized his own weakness prevented him from acting freely, and placed all his hopes upon you.” At these words, Merlin’s gaze softened as he looked at Toria. Though teacher and pupil, to the aged Merlin, Toria was as a daughter. Yet when he recalled the prophecy’s ending, he could not help but frown.

Only now did Toria realize that all those lessons her teacher imparted, ones she never understood, were the arts of governance. As she wavered, wondering whether to believe Merlin, he spoke again.

“Toria, as a citizen of Britain, I hope you ascend the throne. But as your teacher, I wish you would not. Consider carefully. Before you decide, I want you to see your future.” Merlin waved his right hand, and a water-mirror appeared before Toria. Lancer, watching from afar, saw nothing within it, but it was clear Toria did.

As time passed, Toria’s expression changed—first surprised, then excited, slowly turning to sorrow. When dawn was about to break, she wept openly. Yet, as though she had resolved something within, she suddenly opened her tear-stained eyes. “Teacher! I am willing to become king!”

Her voice was filled with resolve. Merlin and Lancer, standing below, both sighed. Though they had long foreseen this outcome, witnessing the maiden step onto this path of no return stirred Lancer to another sigh. But soon, he cast aside his melancholy and whispered, only loud enough for himself to hear, “Since the story has begun, let me step onto this stage as well!”

“Draw the sword, Toria. When you pull this blade from the stone, you shall become King of Britain!” Merlin had regained his composure, knowing the girl would never regret her choice. Thus, he would fulfill his duty as a guide.

With a solemn face, Toria approached the Sword in the Stone, grasped its hilt with both hands, and slowly drew it from the rock. As she did, the sun began to rise. Unbeknownst to Lancer, a crowd had gathered around him, mostly young knights.

Someone started, and others followed, kneeling on one knee and gazing up at Toria. Lancer joined them, kneeling with the crowd. Though his own customs dictated kneeling only to Heaven and parents, one knee was acceptable.

“God save Britain!”

Loud cheers rang out across the square, drawing countless others, who soon followed the gesture. Before long, the entire plaza was filled with people kneeling on one knee. At that moment, even Toria’s heart was not calm.

“It’s exactly as Teacher showed me. What led to the final scene? Each of them is a knight equal to me. What causes their betrayal? Is it truly because I fall short? If so, then for this country, I am willing to abandon my feelings and become the perfect king!” As she silently made her resolve, Toria glanced at Lancer kneeling below; at that same moment, Lancer seemed to sense something, raising his bowed head. Their eyes met briefly in the air, then parted.

“If Toria—no, Arthur—has chosen, then I shall fulfill it!” Watching Toria’s changing expression, Lancer resolved himself. He knew Toria’s fate; history would not change in this era. Even if he slew Lancelot, another would take his place. Without the final battle at Camlann, the other ten knights would not die, and Saber would not join the last Holy Grail War. Against the tide of history, he could not change the outcome, but he could influence its course toward his desires.

“If I have decided to be king, then—” For a moment, Toria’s expression dimmed, but in the sunlight, no one noticed, not even Merlin at her side. Lancer’s feelings for Toria were not quite love—more a longing for the person within his dreams, an uncontrollable urge to draw closer to her. As the youngest free knight, as one of Toria’s idols in this era, he accompanied her like an elder brother. Though Toria’s feelings for Lancer were not love, she still held a special affection for him.

“I am willing to be the king’s knight, and hope the king will accept me!” As the chosen king, everyone hoped to leave a deep impression, but none could stop the speaker. As the youngest free knight, whether they liked Lancer or not, all gave him the respect he deserved, refraining from interrupting.

“I accept. Rise and come before me, knight.”

I have never been in love, nor do I know what others think of this approach, reminiscent of a gal-game’s affection-building. If you find it disagreeable, feel free to mention it in the reviews—examples would be appreciated. This era’s Saber arc will soon end, as writing it requires much research. Though the time-travel elements are not strictly accurate, I wish to avoid excessive plot holes. Regarding yesterday’s lack of updates, I can only say that after having blood drawn, I was too weak to move. I hope for your understanding.