Might Makes Right

Lucanmont, the duke's residence.

The grand and opulent hall was illuminated to a bright daylight-like glow by magical lamps hanging from the ceiling. Graceful dancers swayed their slender waists to sultry music, performing sensual dances.

Arkhan sat high on the main seat of the second floor, engaged in a lively conversation with the Duke of Lucanmont at his side, and laughed heartily. Their interaction resembled that of old friends reuniting after a long separation.

Artoria sat in her seat, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. She had never attended such a grand banquet and felt out of place amidst the vibrant atmosphere.

"Lily, try this cake; it's delicious." Guinevere cheerfully offered a pastry to Artoria.

"Thank you, Guinevere." Artoria replied while glancing up at her teacher, her eyes tinged with a hint of envy.

It seemed like no matter the environment, her teacher always seemed so at ease. Was she just too immature in comparison? She felt a slight twinge of embarrassment.

Shaking her head, Artoria pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the delicious food in her hand. With her teacher here, what could go wrong?

Lancelot's gaze remained fixated on the dancers in the center of the room, their translucent veils revealing porcelain skin.

"Uhuhu~ How is it? Isn't the world outside more exciting than in Avalon?" Merlin chuckled.

Lancelot nodded. "Indeed."

They exchanged a knowing glance, clinked their cups, and shared a secret smile.

As the evening wore on, with excellent conversational skills, the relationship between Arkhan and Benedict grew closer, shedding its initial awkwardness.

This put the duke at ease, indicating that the new king was relatively easy to get along with.

Benedict glanced at Arkhan, his eyes shimmering for a moment, and casually asked, "Your Majesty, shouldn't you be in Camelot for the coronation ceremony? Why did you come to Lucanmont?"

'Finally, you asked that question...' Arkhan smiled slightly and raised his wine glass.

Benedict sensibly raised his own glass, and they clinked, both downing their drinks in one gulp.

"Duke, why do you think I'm here?" Arkhan idly traced patterns on his cup, his gaze seemingly smiling as he fixed it on the duke.

Benedict contemplated for a moment, shaking his head with a bitter smile. "Forgive my ignorance, Your Majesty. Please enlighten me."

Arkhan locked eyes with the duke for a while, then handed the cup to the side.

A maid with a wine bottle approached, filling the cup.

"Duke, we're all smart people. There's no point in playing coy and cryptic like this. How about we be straightforward with each other?" Arkhan suggested.

Benedict's eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, I genuinely don't understand your point."

"Hahaha..." Arkhan chuckled, raised his cup, and downed the wine. "In that case, let me break this windowpane for you. Duke, which side are you?"

Benedict's pupils abruptly contracted.

*Whoosh!*

A gust of wind suddenly flew in through the window, freezing the atmosphere.

The performance continued, the music remained melodic, and the dance remained sensual as Arkhan's gaze remained fixed on the duke with his smile never fading.

After a long pause, Benedict finally lifted his head and said, "When my father was alive, he established a family motto for the House of Lucan. It was also his last words to me before he passed away."

"Please, go on." Arkhan responded with a smile.

Benedict took a deep breath and looked seriously at Arkhan, enunciating each word clearly. "The House of Lucan must be loyal to the King of Camelot, whoever that may be. Whoever is the king, we remain loyal."

Arkhan quietly observed the duke with his deep-black eyes filled with a profound understanding.

The meaning was clear. The House of Lucan would pledge loyalty to whoever ascended the throne and became the recognized king through the crowning ceremony.

However, Arkhan had merely pulled the sword from the stone, gaining the qualifications to be a king but not yet the true king. Therefore, the duke could not openly support him. But because Arkhan had the qualifications, the duke also wouldn't stand against him.

As soon as Arkhan had demonstrated his ability with Caliburn before, the duke had come to welcome him, recognized his identity, and immediately knelt in apology, a testament to his attitude.

He acknowledged Arkhan's right to be king, but not his actual kingship. The duke would only fully recognize Arkhan as king if he successfully completed the coronation ceremony and became the king acknowledged by the people.

"So..." Arkhan began to open his mouth. "Is this your decision?"

Benedict nodded seriously.

"Indeed, the House of Lucan lives up to its renowned reputation..." Arkhan said with a smile, raising his wineglass to the duke. "Duke, I salute you."

He raised the glass to his lips and downed the wine in one gulp.

Benedict was slightly taken aback. "Your Majesty, you're not... angry?"

"Angry? Why would I?" Arkhan's smile remained unchanged. "A knight told me earlier that the King of Camelot has always been determined by strength. I found his words quite reasonable. Britain's tradition has always been about 'might makes right'. With just this sword, what can it really prove? If someone were to bow to me solely because of this sword, I might even look down on them."

A hint of disdain curved at the corner of Arkhan's mouth. "I can tell you, Duke, this throne doesn't impress me much."

A nearby maid nearly dropped a wine bottle at this revelation.

Benedict was startled by Arkhan's words. To think that the new king would look down on the throne—it was almost blasphemous!

Yet, somewhere deep within him, he couldn't help but feel that the young man before him was not just boasting. Especially with that innate confidence that emanated from him, it was hard not to be convinced.

"So, Your Majesty, are you planning..." Benedict cautiously looked at Arkhan, realizing that, unknowingly, his own aura had been subdued by the young king.

"Camelot grew through the fires of war, and even King Uther solidified his position through countless wars. Although I may not be as talented, I plan to follow in the footsteps of the late kings."

Arkhan's smile was elegant and gentle, but each word he spoke resonated like thunder in the duke's ears.

"I plan to... conquer the Kingdom of Ganna."