Vortigern awoke from his dream and found himself sitting on the throne in the army camp. He turned to his attendant magus and asked, "What time is it?"
"It is already dusk, Your Majesty," Meksis replied.
Vortigern rose from the throne, his gaze lingering on the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad beside him.
His mood felt heavy as he left the military camp and stepped outside.
The cold night wind brushed over Vortigern's face as he stepped outside. He looked out and could see a sprawling Great Wall stretching out before him.
It was Hadrian's Wall, built hundreds of years ago by the Roman Empire as it expanded to the British Isles and pushed back the Celtic and Pictish peoples to Ireland and Scotland. Similar to the Antonine Wall, it served as a fortification to mark the northernmost boundary of the Roman Empire.
Hadrian's Wall was renowned for its exceptional sturdiness, thanks to the large-scale Bounded Fields and enchantments cast by the court mages of the Roman Empire at the time. These enchantments made the wall almost impregnable, protecting the Roman Empire's northern border from any potential invasion.
Decades ago, Vortigern had patrolled Hadrian's Wall as a general of the Roman auxiliary legion, guarding against the Picts. Now, the Northern Kings were using the same wall to guard against him. However, Vortigern had to admit that the Bounded Fields on Hadrian's Wall were indeed powerful. Even with the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad, he could not break through the wall's defenses.
"Your Majesty, do you feel emotional at the sight?" Meksis asked as he followed him out.
Vortigern fell silent for a moment before replying, "It takes me back 35 years ago when the Empire was still stable, His Majesty ruled Britain, and Uther and I were only 12 years old. I remember the terrible screams that plagued us every day in that year due to numerous disasters. His Majesty, at the advice of the court mages, sought out a seven-year-old boy named Merlin. The young Merlin prophesized that two dragons were fighting underground in the center of Britain - a red dragon symbolizing the king and the British people, and a white dragon symbolizing the Saxons and the invaders. That was the first prophecy of that sly guy."
Meksis ignored the slight towards Merlin and calmly replied, "I too have heard of Merlin's first prophecy."
Vortigern showed a bitter smile as he spoke, "At that time, I thought to myself that if any invaders dared to invade Britain, I would become Britain's sword and vanquish them all. But instead, I ended up becoming the white dragon, leading the Saxons and the invaders."
Meksis fell silent for a moment before asking, "Your Majesty, do you have any regrets?"
"If I regretted it, I wouldn't be Vortigern," he replied, flicking his cloak as the shadow of a dragon appeared faintly on his body. He then asked, "Any news on 'Arthur'?"
"He is already in Caerleon Castle, and the Northern Kings are making moves. Some are sending envoys to Camelot, while others are going in person," Meksis replied, pausing before asking, "Do you intend to cause trouble, Your Majesty? According to Merlin's prophecy, King Arthur, who is the incarnation of the red dragon, is your nemesis."
"It has to be the real thing," Vortigern sneered, although it was unclear whether he was mocking the "fated nemesis" or the so-called "prophecy."
Vortigern glanced back at Hadrian's Wall, his mocking expression growing stronger. "There's no need for me to stir up trouble. They themselves...are going to start trouble!"
"Meksis, inform everyone that the army will retreat to Londinium," Vortigern ordered.
"Does this mean we're not going to fight, Your Majesty?"
"If I were here, they wouldn't dare to start trouble," Vortigern replied confidently.
"Following your will," Meksis nodded, and went off to carry out the order.
Vortigern cast one last glance at Hadrian's Wall, flicked his cloak, and turned to leave. He thought of the black-haired youth he had seen in Tintagel and a mocking smile appeared on his face.
"You better work hard, 'Arthur'. Otherwise, I'll have wasted my efforts in giving you the sword in the stone," he muttered to himself before disappearing into the darkness.
...
The sky was illuminated by the moon and stars on that night.
Morgan gave Gaheris explicit instructions to take Shirou and Artoria to the evening party.
"Has my sister already started the party?"
Gaheris nodded with a smile. "Yes."
"My...my king...I...Is it really okay for me to be here?" Artoria's voice trembled as she spoke.
Shirou turned his gaze to her.
At that moment, Artoria was dressed in a white, flowing gown, her golden hair was already styled into a ponytail, tied with a white ribbon, her slender arms adorned with white silk gloves. She looked as beautiful as a lily in full bloom.
However, her small face betrayed her nervousness and embarrassment, indicating that she still wasn't accustomed to being treated as a woman, let alone wearing dresses to showcase her feminine charm.
"Of course it's okay. You look lovely."
Shirou reached out and gently took her slender hand, smiling encouragingly at her. He then turned to Gaheris and said, "Thank you for your assistance, Gaheris."
"You're welcome, Your Majesty."
Shirou boarded the carriage first, while Artoria appeared troubled and took hold of Shirou's hand with one hand, and lifted the lotus-like white skirt of her gown with the other, as she made her way towards the carriage.
Merlin leaned against the window of the inn, watching the scene with envy. "I envy them for being able to attend the ball. There are so many beautiful ladies there. I wish I could go too..."
Suddenly, a sword appeared behind him, pointed directly at his neck. Feeling the cold steel against his skin, Merlin let out a sigh and said, "I don't want to go... I don't want to go... Kay."
Kay withdrew the sword expressionlessly and gazed at Artoria, who had just boarded the carriage, thinking to himself, 'That's right, sis. You no longer need to suppress your emotions. You can live like a normal woman now.'
"Fuu~!" Fou mimicked Merlin's actions, leaning against the window.
"Why are you imitating me? I'm the one who should be imitating humans, right?" Merlin said discontentedly.
...
During the journey, Artoria tightly clenched her hands, and had a serious expression, almost as if she were a warrior preparing to enter a battlefield. Shirou could only offer her comfort, "A social gathering is not a battle."
"Yes!" she responded with the spirit of a warrior.
He smiled helplessly and leaned back on the seat, pulling back the carriage curtain and peering outside.
Several luxurious carriages were making their way towards the castle, along with his carriage. Nobles from various kingdoms had arrived in Caerleon, and he was aware of this fact.
Over the past three days, he had visited some of the nobles who had arrived early in Caerleon, but many more were yet to arrive, and he had yet to meet all of them.
Furthermore, of those he had visited in the past three days, he did not have a good sense of them. The nobles were very polite and eloquent in their speech, but there was a profound sense of distance and superiority, much like the landlords in the modern world towards farmers.
This was understandable, after all, "Arthur" might have been the child of King Uther, or have noble blood, but he grew up in the countryside. For those who pursued nobility, this was considered a blemish on their noble lineage.
These nobles were not like the ones in Camelot who had to accept this fact. They came from other kingdoms and were subjects of other kings, so they did not have to feel inferior. However, this did not matter to Shirou, as his goal was to unite Britain and become the king of all of Britain. In the end, these nobles would have to submit to him.
As the carriage wheels turned, Gaheris announced, "Your Majesty, we have arrived." Shirou nodded and offered a hand to assist Artoria as she stepped out of the carriage.
Before them lay a magnificent castle, its grandeur emphasized by the red carpet that stretched out from its entrance. Beautiful gardens flanked the path, where nobles dressed in their finest attire chatted and mingled with one another.
The atmosphere left Shirou feeling a little dazed. Despite traveling back to the 5th century, it felt as though he was attending a modern-day business party. Some things, it seemed, never changed with time.
With a gentle hand, he assisted the tense-looking Artoria as they made their way towards the castle, taking in the elegant gardens and finely dressed nobles along the way.
The fortress they had arrived at was none other than Caerleon Castle, the last line of defense for the capital city of Camelot. Despite its formidable reputation, life within its walls was far from austere or solemn. As the heart of Caerleon, the castle was adorned with exquisite decorations and flourished with life.
The spacious hall was aglow with the warm light of countless magical lamps that lined its walls. As night had fallen, the illumination only made everything more dazzling and splendid. The nobles mingled in groups, the colors of red and wine adding a modern party vibe to the affair. Adding to the magical atmosphere, a few fairies could be seen fluttering about in the air.
Shirou had to admit, he had been presumptuous in his assumptions about ancient times. He had assumed that people in this era would be afraid of the dark and not enjoy nightlife. But he had forgotten that he was in the Type-Moon universe, where magecraft was a part of daily life. In some ways, the people of this time may have been better at enjoying life than modern people.
As Morgan chatted with a noblewoman, she noticed Shirou and Artoria approaching and greeted them with a smile. "Arthur, you've arrived!"
Shirou returned the smile and replied, "Yes, my sister and I have come together."
Not wanting to cause any confusion, Shirou emphasized the word "my sister" when referring to Artoria. While Morgan had missed Artoria's presence, he knew it was important to be polite and considerate in their interactions with others.
"It's good to see you both here," Morgan beamed. "For now, feel free to take a seat over there. The rest of the guests haven't arrived yet."
He nodded in agreement and gently led Artoria to a corner, her tense expression making her appear like a puppet being led along.
Once they had arrived in a secluded area, she let out a deep breath of relief.
He grabbed a pastry from the nearby table and offered it to Artoria, asking, "How are you feeling?"
Taking the pastry from him, she looked troubled and responded, "My King, this battle... it's difficult!"
"In any case, let's try to relax for now," he suggested, hoping to ease her anxieties.
She nodded in agreement, her expression serious as she acknowledged his words.
Not wanting to push her any further, he remained quiet. The current Artoria resembled an intern attending a company gathering for the first time - nervous and awkward. He empathized with her, remembering his own similar experiences. The first time was always nerve-wracking and awkward, but as time passed, one learned to stay calm and composed.
He reminded himself that in hindsight, those initial feelings weren't such a big deal, and he hoped that Artoria would eventually come to the same realization.
Shirou opted to remain in the corner with Artoria, choosing to forgo mingling with the other nobles. However, his decision only made her feel even more self-blaming and apologetic. As a knight, she felt immature for causing her lord to worry so much.
Unable to express her emotions through words, Artoria instead split the pastry in half and offered one half to him, expressing her inner guilt and gratitude through her actions.
He simply smiled and accepted the pastry, understanding her unspoken feelings.
As more and more guests arrived in the castle hall, Morgan - the host of the party - stood at the center and drew everyone's attention with a gentle clap of her hands.
"Thank you all so much for coming to my party," Morgan gracefully bowed and addressed the crowd.
"We wouldn't dare miss a party hosted by Princess Morgan!" the surrounding nobles responded, their faces beaming with smiles.
Morgan nodded in response, her smile remaining fixed as she spoke. "While this party may be mine, the true focus of tonight's celebration is not myself. Without further ado, I would like to introduce a noble person who embodies the very essence of the British Red Dragon - my brother, Arthur!"
"Arthur?" the nobles murmured in hushed tones, their curiosity piqued. "Is he the one who pulled the sword in the stone?" "The destined king who will defeat the White Dragon, as foretold by Merlin?"
Excitement and anticipation buzzed through the crowd as they discussed amongst themselves.
Shirou couldn't help but show a look of surprise on his face. He had thought that Morgan had invited him to test his mettle or something, so he was on guard. But he never expected that she would push him to the forefront in front of these nobles.
He wondered why she was introducing him to the aristocrats. Was it to expand his network and connections? Shirou couldn't quite decipher Morgan's intentions.
He had expected her to be jealous of "Arthur" and do everything in her power to seize the throne. So what did this sudden shift in behavior mean?
Puzzled by Morgan's sudden change in behavior, Shirou turned to Artoria and said, "Artie, stay here for a while. If someone approaches, just ignore them, alright?"
She nodded in agreement.
With a small smile on his face, he then made his way over to Morgan to see what she had in store for him.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Morgan's voice rang out, her excitement palpable. "I am proud to introduce my brother, Arthur! He will soon be crowned king of Camelot and lead our kingdoms to victory against the treacherous and lowly King Vortigern and his Saxon army!"
As she introduced Shirou to the noble guests, the volume of their voices grew louder, especially among those who had just arrived in Caerleon. Thanks to Morgan's introduction, they were now able to become acquainted with Shirou.
Shirou expressed his gratitude to Morgan in a low voice, "Thank you, sis. I appreciate it."
Morgan replied with a smile, "You know what's good for you, my dear brother."
With the formalities out of the way, the party truly began. The nobles held their drinks and sought out acquaintances, chatting with one another and expanding their social networks.
The atmosphere was one of luxury and refinement, with the nobles mingling and exchanging friendly conversations with one another. Many of them also approached Shirou, curious to get to know the man who had been introduced as the future King of Camelot.
Coming from a world where interpersonal relationships were highly valued, Shirou had developed excellent social skills and emotional intelligence. In a society where family background and wealth were not always enough, one had to develop these abilities in order to survive. As a result, he was able to converse easily with others, creating a pleasant and amicable atmosphere wherever he went.
At that moment, a noblewoman approached Shirou and gazed at him intently before questioning, "You... are Arthur?"
Her tone was sharp and accusatory. However, Shirou simply smiled and confirmed, "Yes, that's correct."
"I had heard that the next king would be a mighty and magnificent hero, yet here you are - just a mere nobody," the noblewoman continued, her words laced with disdain. She then looked him up and down and sneered, "Thank goodness you're not my husband. Otherwise, I would be ashamed to show my face!"
The once harmonious atmosphere was suddenly shattered, leaving an awkward and tense silence in its wake. All eyes were now fixed on the interaction between the noblewoman and Shirou, with many of the guests watching with interest to see how Shirou would respond.
Morgan, who had been standing nearby, squinted her eyes as she observed the scene, perhaps wondering how Shirou would handle the situation.
Artoria, who had been nervously hiding in the corner, suddenly became serious. Her blue eyes, like that of a lion, were fixed on the woman with a fierce intensity.
