According to Fate lore, the British Isles' remote location allowed their mystical essence to linger far longer than on the mainland. During the Era of the King of Knights, the isles still teemed with Heroic Spirits, faeries, witches, and various magical beasts.
As the primary military force of that era, knights possessed the formidable power of a one-man army.
They wielded magic, razor-sharp swords capable of slicing through steel like butter, and armor of such exceptional durability that it shouldn't have been possible to forge in that era.
Any elite knight under Guinevere's command could easily breach the formations of ordinary human armies single-handedly.
Consequently, warfare in this era revolved around knightly clashes. The side with the stronger knights invariably secured victory.
In other words, if Guinevere could truly mass-produce knights and ensure their unwavering loyalty, no one would deny her foresight in establishing the Knight Academy.
Of course, training an ordinary knight from scratch was an exceedingly difficult task. Among the academy's over a thousand students, fewer than a hundred would ultimately qualify.
Yet even those who failed to graduate would have undergone knightly training, acquiring literacy and numeracy skills that would make them invaluable to the common army. They could serve as its backbone, assisting in the administration of various settlements.
While knights formed the main force in war, the common army remained essential for logistical tasks such as transporting supplies, preparing provisions, and maintaining garrison duty in settlements.
Across the entire British Isles, a kingdom with ten qualified knights would be considered powerful among smaller nations. Even the current King of Knights commands fewer than a hundred knights under her banner.
"Drink!" "Drink!" "Drink!"...
"Keep swinging your swords! Don't stop!"
"Andrew, what the hell, did you forget to eat?!"
"Sarah, do you really think you can become a knight as powerful as Her Highness Guinevere?"
"Will, try harder! Don't forget that, according to tradition, Her Highness will select three knights from the academy to oversee the newly acquired King Rience's Territory. That's when you'll be formally knighted and become a true knight!"
The Knight Academy had been open for less than two years. Currently, among the commoners enrolled, not a single one had reached graduation level.
Will, currently being reprimanded by the Chief Instructor, was like Tristan—drawn by the allure of knighthood. He was an unknighted knight already possessing knight-level skills.
They came here to train, teach, and swear allegiance to Guinevere, all because they could obtain everything they desired from her.
A flat plot of land with a few dozen thatched-roofed wooden huts—this was the current "Knight Academy." Yet beyond training, the Academy had attracted over twenty unknighted knights drawn by Guinevere's charisma, as well as over a thousand apprentices of all ages, all scattered across the Farmstead.
"It's Her Highness Guinevere! Her Highness Guinevere has come to inspect us!"
The training grounds were flat, bordered only by low fences separating them from the residential areas. A child first spotted the approaching group of riders, and his shout alerted everyone to Guinevere's arrival.
The Chief Instructor's angry curses fell silent as the apprentices lined up in formation. As the nominal headmistress of the Knight Academy, Guinevere had no time to teach personally. Instead, drawing on her memories of university military training, she had written a detailed training manual for Knight Morholt, who oversaw the academy. The apprentices' first lessons focused on discipline, obedience, and understanding that their food, clothing, and education were all due to Guinevere's benevolence.
And Knight Morholt? If the stories Guinevere knew held true, he would become a Round Table Knight destined to challenge King Mark in the future.
He would be slain by Tristan, and his niece would become Tristan's beloved. By coming here, he was walking into a trap—a trap Guinevere had set early to undermine the King of Knights' inner circle.
"Knight Morholt," Guinevere said, "I've come merely to observe and to ask you to decide whether you will remain at the Knight Academy to teach when I marry the King of Knights, or whether you will join me in battle under the King of Knights' banner."
"I will follow my original plan and strive to persuade the King of Knights to abolish all feudal lords in Great Britain, effectively unifying the nation."
Replacing feudal lords with knights was Guinevere's temporary solution. While this strategy wasn't perfect and carried significant long-term risks, it offered one key advantage: once knights swore loyalty, their allegiance rarely wavered, drastically improving the current situation where feudal lords frequently rebelled.
At the head of the formation, Guinevere stopped speaking after painting this rosy picture. Though she wasn't a natural orator, her radiant smile and beauty were enough to stir romantic fantasies in her 'fond' disciples and the unknighted knights.
At that moment, she was in a thatched-roof cottage, speaking privately with Sir Morholt, a knight who had already sworn fealty to her and accepted her knighthood.
Sir Morholt's fiefdom lay just beyond this farmstead, a plot of undeveloped territory granted by Guinevere.
"Your Highness, I will stay and redouble the training of these men until your wedding. Several of the senior apprentices show remarkable talent; they may have a chance to accompany you to Camelot City."
Guinevere nodded silently. Sir Morholt was a seasoned knight, known for his composure and prudence. His martial prowess rivaled all but Tristan's. Entrusting him with the Knight Academy filled Guinevere with confidence.
Of course, this was also because Guinevere had few other suitable candidates under her command.
She would be taking Tristan to Camelot, and he was still quite young.
"Sir Morholt, please finalize the evaluation and provide me with the list of knights to be sent to King Rience's territory as soon as possible."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Inside the thatched hut, the door stood wide open as Guinevere continued discussing matters with Sir Morholt.
Once they had nothing more to discuss and emerged, the knights under Tristan's command were already engaged in training. Forming a battle formation of nine, they faced off against the academy's unknighted knights, who outnumbered them by more than double.
Their magic pulsed with bloodlust and madness, all wielding the Princess Sword Technique Guinevere had perfected at the age of fifteen. Moving as a single entity, their diverse magical auras clashed against the unknighted knights, who, despite their numbers, retreated steadily under the coordinated assault.
Observing the sparring match in the training grounds, Guinevere made no move to intervene. She deemed this trial necessary, for she would soon lead these nine knights and many others to Camelot City.
Having secured the unknighted knights' 'loyalty' with the promise of knighthood, she now needed to forge that loyalty into true devotion through the crucible of combat.
Soon, all nine knights had sustained minor injuries, but they had emerged victorious. Afterward, Guinevere raised her sword, its edge now jagged with chips, and systematically trampled over the defeated unknighted knights.
"Is that all you've got? You think you're ready to seek knighthood in King Rience's territory?"
Even among knights, there were ranks and distinctions. After their defeat, these knights felt utterly humiliated.
Toward the Royal Guard, they vowed to exact brutal revenge in the future.
As for Guinevere, since she was their liege lord—and a beautiful woman at that—they could only aspire to surpass her someday.
This single battle ignited an unyielding desire within the unknighted knights to grow stronger.
When lunchtime arrived, Guinevere seized the opportunity to host a grand feast. However, with so many knights present, the gifts offered upon her arrival proved woefully inadequate.
Undaunted, Guinevere used her own funds to purchase a hundred sheep for the celebratory banquet. In addition to the knights and the Knight Academy apprentices, the entire population of the Farmstead received a month's tax exemption as a reward.
Every era has its limitations. Without overwhelming force, Guinevere could only stay half a step ahead of her time.
Rejecting ceremonial bows? Preaching universal equality? The commoners would only think Guinevere had gone mad.