Baobhan Sith, Melusine, and Barghest were no better.
After only a few bites of the delicacies served at the palace banquet, their throats began to work uneasily, their little faces scrunched up, and their complexions grew greener by the second, as though they were about to cough up bile.
Only under Morgan's quiet, penetrating stare did the three manage to keep themselves from publicly vomiting up those culinary weapons.
It was only then that Baobhan Sith and the others, whose palates Samael had thoroughly spoiled, finally realized that their caretaker had unknowingly raised their standards of food by several centuries.
Having learned their lesson, the three little girls no longer dared to eat recklessly. In perfect agreement, they set down their knives and forks, turned toward Samael with deeply affectionate gazes, and unconsciously licked their lips.
They honestly found themselves missing the plain old braised pork back home.
Samael could only give them a wry smile. Faced with the table full of culinary horrors, he was having just as much trouble forcing himself to eat.
While the Ancient Serpent was still hesitating, the dull clatter of armor sounded through the hall.
The Knight of the Sun stepped forward, dropped to one knee in the center of the room, and solemnly addressed the King of Knights on the second floor.
"My King, this banquet is far too dull. I would like to invite one of the warriors present to exchange sword techniques with me and provide some entertainment for everyone."
His blue eyes, however, turned openly toward Samael.
The meaning could not have been clearer.
Seriously? You want to put on a live performance of father and son trying to kill each other right here?
Finding himself singled out, Samael did not know whether to laugh or sigh.
"Gawain! Do you understand what you're doing?!"
Morgan slammed a hand against the table and rose to her feet, her expression dark.
Her voice was cold, and a sharp chill gathered in her gaze as she stared at the Knight of the Sun.
Win or lose, this challenge was fundamentally a statement of how they felt about their godmother's choice of husband.
And there was probably another motive mixed in as well. They wanted to recover some face for Artoria, and for themselves.
The King of Britannia had personally lowered herself to recruit some unknown man into the Round Table, only to be rejected again and again.
That amounted to showing contempt for the entire Round Table.
Now that this same man had suddenly become their nominal father figure, how could these proud knights possibly lower their heads so easily?
But Gawain was also Morgan's foster son, someone she had personally raised before he entered the Round Table.
For him to make such a declaration in public was practically an open act of defiance and betrayal, one that only reinforced the impression that Morgan's branch of the royal bloodline had fallen into decline.
The surrounding lords, delighted to watch the drama unfold, finally shed the last of their restraint when they looked at the witch.
Their gazes filled with mockery and ridicule, and several began egging the situation on.
For political creatures like them, flattering those above and trampling those below was simply routine.
Few people wanted to be associated with a princess whose decline seemed inevitable.
The noise around him, combined with the bone-chilling cold radiating from the side, sent a shiver down Gawain's spine as he knelt in the middle of the hall.
He was already beginning to regret this.
It was not that he had deliberately intended to oppose Morgan, whom he regarded as his mother.
But the situation had already reached this point, and there was no easy way to back down.
Gawain could only grit his teeth and explain.
"Mother, this is merely a friendly exchange of swordsmanship between knights. I simply wish to see what makes a man praised even by the King so exceptional. Please do not interfere..."
The furious witch's brow tightened as killing intent gathered around her.
She was just about to speak when an arm beside her gently pressed her back down.
Then Samael, grinning broadly, dropped his knife and fork and sprang to his feet.
In the blink of an eye, he shot across the hall and appeared in front of Gawain.
The Ancient Serpent moved so quickly, and with such obvious eagerness, that Baobhan Sith and the other two almost felt as though he were fleeing some terrifying monster at his seat.
The next moment, the fairy girls lowered their eyes toward the table piled high with food that had barely been touched.
They immediately understood.
Just when he needed an excuse to escape, someone had kindly delivered one straight to him.
How thoughtful of you, Sir Gawain...
Samael looked at the handsome blond knight with nothing but warmth and appreciation.
Then be sure to accept my gratitude properly.
Samael narrowed his eyes with a smile and spoke calmly.
"You want guidance? Very well. As your elder, I suppose I can reluctantly give you a few pointers."
The moment those words left his mouth, the entire hall fell into stunned silence.
Everyone was astonished by the sheer arrogance of the man.
Gawain's expression stiffened slightly, but he did not immediately take offense.
Instead, he instinctively looked toward the second floor.
The King of Knights seated upon the throne gave a faint nod, granting permission.
Then Kay, who had already met Samael twice before, stepped out from beside the King of Knights and stood before the railing on the second floor.
He formally announced the rules.
"Since both sides have agreed, this duel is permitted under the King's witness. However, as stated, this is a contest of swordsmanship only. Ether, sorcery, and special weapons are forbidden."
Gawain nodded.
He voluntarily handed over the Holy Sword Excalibur Galatine and removed the Berserker Belt from his waist.
Then he requested two standard-issue greatswords from the Enforcement Knights.
With proper knightly courtesy, he allowed Samael to choose first before warning him seriously.
"My Strength is considerable. I recommend wearing armor, just in case."
"What a coincidence. Mine is too. You'd be better off not crossing blades with me."
The Ancient Serpent replied with a smile.
He casually picked up one of the greatswords and walked toward the open space, looking so relaxed that he clearly did not take the duel very seriously.
Kay shook his head helplessly and turned back toward his original position, almost unable to bear watching what came next.
Tch. For the sake of those two rounds of drinks, this is as much as I can do for you.
It's not a fight to the death, and this isn't Gawain at three times his strength under the midday sun.
At worst, that gorilla will beat you up and break a few bones.
Good luck.
"BOOM!"
Kay had barely taken a single step when the entire hall suddenly shook as though the earth itself had split open.
The crystal chandelier overhead swung violently.
The marble pillars supporting the palace groaned under the strain, and the lights flickered as though the building had just endured an earthquake.
Gawain! You muscle-brained bastard! I told you to hold back! Are you trying to demolish the palace?! Do you think repairs are free?!
Having instantly calculated the potential cost, veins bulged across Kay's forehead as he spun around in fury.
But the instant he looked down, the tirade rising into his throat died there.
The chief quartermaster's eyes bulged like those of a dead fish.
A thousand thoughts eventually condensed into a single reaction.
What the hell?! That's ridiculous!
As the dust throughout the hall gradually settled, the assembled lords, great and small, along with the nearby Knights of the Round Table, all froze in place.
They stared dumbfounded at the Knight of the Sun, whose entire body had been embedded into one of the palace pillars like part of a mural.
"I warned you not to clash swords with me, but you insisted..."
Amid that lazy murmur, a slender figure casually cracked his joints and walked across the marble floor, which was now covered in spiderweb-like fractures.
Then he tossed the remains of his standard greatsword in front of everyone.
Only the hilt was left.
The stunned audience replayed the exchange in their minds frame by frame.
They went over it again.
And again.
Even after mentally reviewing the scene dozens of times, everyone still wore the same expression of disbelief.
Because there truly had not been the slightest trace of Ether or sorcery during the clash.
That overwhelming force had come purely from the body standing before them.
Samael, meanwhile, was not surprised in the least.
After all, Gawain's physical parameters placed his Strength at only B+.
Samael, on the other hand, had inherited the Beast Authority of the Mother Goddess Tiamat.
He was also the archetype of countless serpent gods and Dragonkind across different worlds, while possessing the bloodline of the Frost Giants of Jotunheim.
Both belonged to the highest tier of monsters when it came to raw physical power.
Samael himself was therefore unquestionably a monster wearing human skin.
Even after suffering a series of degradations, his Strength was still at least at the A+ level.
In a pure contest of physical power, forget the current Gawain.
Even the threefold Gawain beneath the midday sun could be overwhelmed head-on despite the buff and thrown flat on his back.
Still, this guy really can take a beating. He's actually conscious after that.
Samael stopped and looked thoughtfully toward the "gorilla" who had peeled away from the stone pillar.
Gawain now lay sprawled face-down on the floor with his limbs spread wide, yet he was somehow still moving and struggling to rise.
Samael could not help admiring his toughness.
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