"A baby… haha, it's a baby."
Hearing Fujimaru Ritsuka say this, Gawain couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"No way, I have to see this. Come on, take me to see him when you get the chance," he said to Fujimaru Ritsuka.
Gawain was indeed Agravain's older brother, but he wasn't much older—only by about two years. By the time Gawain became aware of things, Agravain had already grown into a silent, stern adult. Back then, it was truly dull. As for what Agravain was like as a child, Gawain had no memory of it at all.
On the other hand, Gareth was much younger than Gawain and Agravain, so both of them clearly remembered her as a baby.
Hearing Gawain's words, Agravain's expression remained unchanged.
"Everyone starts as a baby. Isn't it the same for you in this world?" he said with a bored look.
"Well… actually, no," Fujimaru Ritsuka interjected timidly. "The Gawain of this world seems to have grown up overnight."
"..."
Even Agravain's expression shifted slightly upon hearing that.
"Then this world is far too abnormal. It needs to be corrected," he said to Fujimaru Ritsuka.
"Yes, this world must be corrected," Gawain agreed with a nod.
"Indeed. Though Lot and Morgan are truly wonderful people, since we're destined to be enemies, we must do everything in our power to defeat them."
On this point, Da Vinci in the projection wholeheartedly agreed.
"The greatest respect you can show an opponent is to annihilate them completely," she added, addressing Gawain and Agravain.
"I will," Gawain replied solemnly.
Then, he turned his gaze toward the soldiers in the distance.
"Are these the troops we're supposed to train?" he asked Fujimaru Ritsuka.
"Yes. These soldiers belong to the local Irish kings," Fujimaru Ritsuka confirmed. "We've successfully formed an alliance with them, but their soldiers' quality is… lacking, to say the least. They need unified training."
"Ireland in this era is still relatively backward in terms of civilization. Their soldiers' combat skills are far inferior to England's," Agravain remarked before walking toward the troops.
"Starting now, I'll drill them thoroughly."
Seeing him march forward, Gawain gripped his sword and followed.
"I'll go with Agravain and take a look," he said to Fujimaru Ritsuka with a smile.
Soon, the two stood before the army and began their training.
The Irish forces were woefully inadequate in equipment, discipline, and coordination. Gawain and Agravain had their work cut out for them.
Agravain's sharp gaze never left the soldiers, not allowing a single moment of slack.
Gawain, comparatively more relaxed, trained the troops while occasionally glancing toward the distant shores of England across the sea.
That was where his parents were. And now, he was preparing to fight against them.
But this thought didn't weigh on him at all.
In his previous life, he had already chosen to sever ties with Morgan. In this world, he would do the same.
The only question was—
Why had the female version of himself in this world sided with her father and mother?
And what was she doing now?
"Dad, nooo!"
At this moment, Gawain (female) watched as Lot approached her with a wicked grin, holding little Agravain out toward her.
"Come on, to strengthen family bonds, little Agravain here shouldn't be left to the wet nurses. Family should take care of him themselves. But your mother and I have things to do, so this task falls to you," Lot said cheerfully.
"I think the wet nurses are much better suited for this," Gawain retorted, visibly disgusted.
Taking care of a baby? Just the thought was exhausting.
And it was Agravain, no less. Unlike normal babies, who could be annoying when crying but adorable when smiling, this kid just had a perpetually gloomy face.
Who could possibly like a baby like that?
This little brother was not cute at all!
"This is necessary for fostering family closeness. Aside from you, everyone in the family—Alto—I mean, Artoria included—has time to bond with him."
"Huh? I have things to do too," Gawain protested.
"What things? Those command duties? I'll have your aunt handle them. Now you're free."
Gawain hesitated under her father's piercing gaze before reluctantly nodding.
"Fine…"
Just as she agreed, Morgan walked in.
"Good. You handle the administrative work, and I'll take care of little Agravain. And remember—you agreed to this yourself, so no complaining."
"…Alright."
Something felt off, but since she'd already agreed, Gawain had no choice but to comply.
As she turned to leave, however, she heard Morgan hand the baby back to the wet nurse.
"Here, you take care of him. I'll supervise."
"Wait—that counts?! No fair!" Gawain whirled around, glaring at her mother.
"Hm? What do you mean?" Morgan tilted her head innocently.
"Dad agreed. I didn't."
"..."
Gawain gritted her teeth. "I've been tricked again, haven't I?"
"Yes, you have," Morgan replied matter-of-factly.
"I refuse! I'll rebel! I'll start a revolt—!"
Thunk.
A light knock from Lot silenced her.
"Rebellion crushed. Now get to work."
"Yes, sir!" Gawain immediately straightened up.
"This girl…" Lot sighed.
"I think it's wonderful," Morgan said, smiling.
Family harmony was something she cherished deeply.
Lot, equally pleased, took Morgan's hand and gently rubbed it.
Morgan swatted his hand away with a mock glare, but Lot understood perfectly. With a glance toward the wet nurse, he signaled for her and the maids to leave.
"It's daytime," Morgan hissed.
"So? We're the king and queen. What's wrong with a little privilege?"
"You're incorrigible."
Lot moved to act, but Morgan suddenly remembered something.
"Wait—the office is right next door. What if Gawain hears?"
"Then we'll just have to make sure she doesn't."
Morgan's eyes widened.
But by then, Lot was already making his move.
Afterward, Morgan pinched Lot hard several times in retaliation.
Lot didn't mind—his body was tough enough that it barely registered.
Morgan sighed, then remembered the three books and quickly asked, "By the way, have you finished translating those?"
"The Barefoot Doctor's Manual is mostly done. The other two are about halfway there."
Fortunately, due to his reincarnation, Lot was fluent in both languages. Though the texts were lengthy, translating them wasn't overly difficult.
Besides, these books were vital for Camelot's development, so he'd been prioritizing the task.
"Can we start implementing them now? Kay needs all the help he can get suppressing Scotland."
"Of course," Lot agreed.
"Send the Barefoot Doctor's Manual to Kay first. Distribute copies across England to train more medical practitioners. The other two books aren't ready for public release—they're better suited for military use."
"Barefoot Doctors… Why does that sound so unreliable?" Morgan frowned.
"I thought the same at first. But then I realized—the name itself reinforces their role."
The term "barefoot doctor" reminded both the practitioners and the people that these medics were not elitists looking down on the poor. They were grassroots healers, the first line of defense for minor ailments.
And if a serious illness arose, the people would know not to blame the barefoot doctors—their skills had limits.
They were the foundation of the healthcare system.
"I see…" Morgan nodded.
Lot continued, "Also, make sure the proper physicians study rigorously. If I catch them using any more of those ridiculous 'cut-open-skulls-or-bleed-patients' methods, I'll saw their legs off."
Morgan burst out laughing.
"Don't worry. I'll enforce it strictly," she said, still giggling.
"Good."
Then, Lot looked at her.
"We've still got time. Let's… continue."
"Again?!"
Morgan rolled her eyes.
And soon, she'd be rolling them even more.
What was it like introducing barefoot doctors in the fifth century?
Even Camelot's staunchest opponents and Morgan and Lot's fiercest enemies had to admit—it was a brilliant move.
In this era's Britain, countless people died from untreated illnesses or misguided remedies. With the advent of barefoot doctors, England's populace grew even more loyal to Lot.
As for rebellious Scotland, Kay's possession of this new advantage swiftly quelled dissent.
They were already outmatched militarily. Before, they'd thought causing trouble might win concessions—but now, with accessible medical care, why bother?
The truth was, Scotland's rebels, though fierce, ultimately just wanted to live peacefully.
If they could do that now, why rebel?
Long live King Lot and Queen Morgan!
While distributing the manuals, Lot also began training his troops using the Military-Civilian Dual-Purpose Talent materials.
Previously, Camelot's army had only looked like a modern force—superficially. Now, Lot was reshaping it from the ground up.
Soldiers grew stronger.
The texts even included gunpowder weapon schematics.
Lot started climbing the tech tree with rudimentary firearms and cannons.
To prevent civilian applications from going to waste, he disseminated some knowledge while establishing production and construction corps.
Camelot's strength was skyrocketing.
Ireland
Gawain and Agravain surveyed the now-well-trained Irish troops with satisfaction.
"They're on par with Camelot's forces back in our day," Gawain remarked.
"But Camelot's current army might be slightly stronger," Fujimaru Ritsuka said, recalling their earlier encounter.
"Oh? Stronger than us?" Gawain frowned.
"Yes."
"Then we should scout them out," Gawain mused, stroking his chin.
"Senpai, Sir Gawain is right," Mash agreed.
After a moment's thought, Fujimaru Ritsuka nodded.
"Alright. Let's observe them quietly."