October 9, 507 AD, Sunny
Three days had passed since the King of Knights and the Five Kings clashed outside Hamburgh. With Kay staying behind to handle the aftermath and oversee the construction of the "Church of Great Deeds" ordered by the King, the rest had returned to Camelot City.
According to Le Morte d'Arthur, the King of Knights lost three hundred soldiers and eight Round Table Knights, while completely annihilating the Five Kings and their thirty thousand troops.
The victory was secured when, during the King of Knights' escape from a surprise attack, Kay furiously retaliated, killing two of the enemy kings and creating the opportunity for their side to turn the tide.
"Lia, we won! Don't be so down, okay?"
In the central castle, within the shared bedroom of the King of Knights and Guinevere, Guinevere had been brushing the King of Knights' hair for over ten minutes.
Near the end of the battle, after Guinevere had dealt with the enemy knights resisting in the small grove, she turned to face the enemy soldiers pressing forward at the front lines...
Guinevere chose to unleash the Fake Excalibur, which had absorbed enough blood and accumulated sufficient magical energy.
As a fake, its destructive power was inferior to the genuine article, yet it still possessed army-level destructive capabilities.
As the blood-red light cannon, seemingly capable of devouring all, erupted, it crushed enemy forces in its path and detonated at the center of their formation. This single strike shattered the enemy's morale and annihilated over three thousand soldiers.
However, unleashing a Holy Sword against ordinary soldiers violated an unspoken rule of knightly warfare.
Great Britain was a small island nation, and its nobility frequently intermarried with families from continental Europe. A knight who meticulously traced their genealogy could likely find a multitude of relatives who were also knights.
This meant that even in life-or-death battles, army-level techniques were generally prohibited from being used directly against enemy troops. In this very battle, the enemy forces still held one or two Holy Swords capable of army-level attacks, but they had refrained from unleashing them.
"Lia, they may be ordinary soldiers, but they're also invaders! They're not innocent!
Some enemy knights pride themselves on their honor and wouldn't harm civilians in captured towns. But these common soldiers are different. With their King's blessing, they burn, pillage, and slaughter without restraint.
If you ask me, unleashing my Holy Sword against them right from the start was the right move.
Invaders who dare slaughter city residents should be massacred themselves and their corpses piled into a Corpse Mound, serving as a warning to rebels and enemy nations alike."
In some matters, Guinevere would compromise with the King of Knights, nodding and agreeing readily. But when it came to her core beliefs, she would never easily yield, even knowing it would displease the King.
This was one such moment as her words remained unyielding.
Hearing Guinevere's continued obstinacy, the King of Knights clenched her teeth, barely restraining herself from storming out. Instead, she spoke in a stern tone:
"Guinevere, whether you used your sword or not, the enemy initiated this battle with army-level Magecraft.
My anger stems from your refusal to accept the surrender of the remaining enemy forces! Your actions will only compel future enemies to fight to the death rather than surrender!
In my view, regardless of what they did during the war, once they surrender, they must face legal Judgment before any execution!"
Had the King of Knights fixated solely on Guinevere's use of the Holy Sword, Guinevere would have grown disillusioned and continued to argue.
But when the King spoke of refusing surrender, and of law and Judgment, Guinevere had to turn away, admitting in a low voice that her own views were extreme.
After all, her talk of building a Corpse Mound was just rhetoric; she would never actually do such a thing. Her refusal to accept surrender at the battle's end had been partly for the King's sake, and partly to curry favor with her.
"Alright, I promise I won't refuse surrender or kill prisoners anymore. But you must agree to one condition: any prisoners involved in the city's massacre—you'll personally identify them and hang them all from Camelot's city walls."
"...Very well."
Guinevere took a step back, but the King of Knights froze, surprised by her easy retreat.
"Lia, don't move. Just let me hug you. I'm backing down for your sake. Besides, did you know? I deliberately waited for you to stop me before calling a halt. Now, even the knights who disapprove of my slaughtering prisoners—like Tristan—will have their respect for you skyrocket."
Inside the bedroom, the door was locked and the curtains drawn. The King of Knights had once again donned her former White Lily Dress. Though tensions lingered between her and Guinevere, the battle's merits still needed to be recognized and rewarded.
By returning to this dress and allowing Guinevere to arrange her like a doll, the King of Knights was bestowing upon Guinevere the very reward she desired.
At this moment, words flowed freely. Caught off guard by Guinevere's claim that her actions were for the King of Knights' sake, the King of Knights had no time to resist Guinevere's sudden embrace.
According to Guinevere, her deliberate refusal of surrender and slaughter of prisoners were merely strategies to establish the King of Knights' authority among her knights.
As Guinevere finished speaking, she pressed herself against the King of Knights' shoulder, her cheek nuzzling her earlobe. One would never guess that on their wedding night, she had fainted at the sight of her partner's disheveled clothes.
"Guinevere, you don't need to go to such lengths."
"I can't help it—it's because I love you. Besides, a kingdom shouldn't have two centers of power. Tristan and the others may be more loyal to me, but they can't treat you as nothing.
"Artoria, you'll be responsible for distributing the compensation to the families of the knights who fell in this battle.
"But do you truly trust me? Are you really entrusting me with managing the Knight Academy we're planning to establish?"
The earlobe was the bait, Guinevere's lips the fish, now nibbling at the lure to test its reaction.
Meanwhile, the King of Knights' mind echoed with Guinevere's words: It's because I love you. Suppressing her urge to flee, she clenched her fists, reasoning that this was a reward that Guinevere deserved.
After all, they were now legally married.
"Guinevere, you have the experience, and you're not one to be content weaving tapestries in the Royal Palace."
"Mmm, then leave it to me! I'll work hard to train several Knight Orders for you. But have you really thought this through? Every knight we train requires a Knight's Fief to support them."
"If you don't actively conquer other Vassal Kings, where will you find enough territory to grant?"
As she spoke, Guinevere went completely limp, hanging bonelessly on the King of Knights' shoulder. Her gaze slid down past the King's A-cups to easily glimpse the absolute territory between her black stockings and skirt hem. Instinctively, Guinevere covered her nose, terrified of embarrassing herself again.
Guinevere had realized she only fainted around the King of Knights, never anyone else.
"Lia, why aren't you saying anything?"
"Y-you... you... stop sucking on my earlobe!"
The King of Knights' regal dignity had never crumbled so completely. Her body betrayed her will; her face and ears flushed crimson the moment Guinevere's lips closed around her earlobe.
Seeing her so flustered and utterly feminine, Guinevere's own resolve wavered. Her body, too, rebelled against her intentions, refusing to support her mischievous schemes.
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, oblivious to the King of Knights' heightened discomfort at her nearness.
When she had regained some composure, Guinevere straightened up and resumed brushing the King's hair, as if determined to tame that unruly stray strand.
"Since we're already married, we should savor our growing bond and these intimate moments at our own pace."
Guinevere spoke as much to herself as to the King of Knights.
Once was all it took. Now that Guinevere had seen her in women's attire again, there was no way she would faint again.
"Guinevere," the King of Knights said, "I still stand by what I said that day. I will never initiate an attack against the Vassal Kings of England.
But I will not hesitate to march on Ireland, now without a king, and Scotland, overrun by barbarian tribes in the north.
In the future, I also plan to launch expeditions to Gaul and Rome, to show the knights of the continent that Great Britain will no longer allow herself to be carved up by continental empires!
Guinevere, please... assist me earnestly."
The King of Knights sat ramrod straight before the mirror, a petite figure harboring colossal ambitions.
Camelot was currently flourishing. After defeating the King of Ireland and the other Five Kings, no nation or territory in all of Great Britain could rival the King of Knights.
She had grown slightly arrogant.