Good news arrived from the Roman side.
The food embargo policy has been lifted. Britain can now breathe a little easier and save more cash.
Of course, for some folks, this pales in comparison to the shock brought by the declaration of Prince Artorius Pendragon, Son of King Arthur.
"To all in Britain!"
"To all who are talented!"
"To all who seek glory and achievement!"
"To all who harbor ambitions and dream of making a difference!"
"The situation in Europe is on the brink of chaos, and war presents us with the best opportunity. Come, follow me, unite under my banner! Join me in Europe, join me on the battlefield, and seize with valor and deeds everything that rightfully belongs to us!"
The swift steeds of the Saxon commanders galloped across the lands of Britain, carrying the will of Artorius into the hearts of all the disillusioned knights. The desire for conquest, land, and wealth reached its zenith.
From nobles' scions to the youngest of knights, from forest bandits to despondent miners, Artorius's will swept through the barren and desolate lands of Britain like a plague, stirring up a storm.
Hundreds of spears and longswords were raised high, mingled with bows and other crude weapons used by forest bandits and tribal people.
In comparison to Artoria as King Arthur, Artorius may have underestimated himself. In reality, his leadership charisma was second to none, not losing to his mother at all.
Although he lacked the dignity, sanctity, and wordless awe-inspiring presence of Artoria, he excelled in guiding people's fervor in his own way.
He had tested his guts with Mordred, Gareth, and others. This time, he made his formal debut within the boundaries of Britain.
The fervor he stirred, coupled with a leadership charisma that was not inferior to King Arthur's, combined to create an atmosphere of fanaticism that, to some extent, even surpassed that of King Arthur.
Knights from all corners of Britain gathered.
However, this time, they came not to rally under and pledge allegiance to King Arthur, but to the prince, Artorius.
They were gathered for a war that aimed not to reclaim lands from foreign hands or protect their homeland, as Artorius had said, but to seize wealth and glory with their swords and spears.
This intense desire and passion burned even brighter than the summoning of King Arthur.
Especially in the face of Britain's increasing barrenness and the growing hardship of its people.
"The knights of Britain are the strongest!"
In the square in front of Camelot, Artorius stood at the center, surrounded by a crowd, and spoke loudly. His voice resounded, ensuring that every knight could hear him.
"We should wield our swords and spears to seize what is rightfully ours, wealth and glory!"
"This world is in such turmoil! It is time for us to plan a new order in our own way!"
"Whether you are a knight or a noble's scion, a hunter or farmer, or people from the Saxon tribes—it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter! As long as you prove yourself on the battlefield, regardless of your previous status, you can become someone extraordinary!"
Cheers surged higher and higher.
The knights and soldiers around Artorius, even those fervent commoners, cheered loudly.
"Long Live Prince Artorius!"
"Long Live King of Saxons!"
"Long Live Son of Dragon!"
===
"They really seem to support Artorius..." said Guinevere, the queen consort of Artoria, or perhaps better known as her 'best friend', in a gentle voice, standing by Artoria's side on the highest balcony of the white castle of Camelot.
The girl, who was worthy of being the Queen of Camelot in both character and appearance, wanted to ease the mood of her dear friend.
Because people could tell that Artorius had embarked on a path that was completely opposite to the King's wishes.
"Ambition, what an extraordinary trait in a child~" Merlin appeared from the other side at the same time, and casually remarked, "But I don't dislike it. Perhaps this child will truly accomplish great things."
"..."
If there were other Knights of the Round Table present at this moment, they would surely rebuke Merlin's frivolous behavior. Pitifully, there were none at the moment.
The Knights of the Round Table had either been swayed into joining Artorius's force or had been sent away, embarking on the irreversible path of searching for the Holy Grail. The military strength of Camelot had now plummeted to its lowest point in history.
Neither of the two women here reprimanded Merlin.
Guinevere only looked at Merlin with dissatisfaction in her eyes but said nothing.
Such an attitude meant nothing to Merlin.
As for Artoria, she continued to blame herself as always, 'If only I were stronger, if only I could save Britain faster, perhaps Artorius wouldn't have turned out like this."
By 'like this', to be more specific, it meant 'becoming an ambitious military leader'.
From the perspective of someone like Artoria, who was a 'Protector' and a 'Savior' like existence, Artorius was like another Vortigern.
Except his goal was not Britain but the broader and more chaotic domains of 'Rome' and 'Europe'.
From the standpoint of the 'King of Britain', Artoria had no reason to stop him. However, from the perspective of a 'Mother', Artoria didn't want her son to become that kind of monster.
But...
She didn't know what to do.
She had never been a good parent.
She had devoted almost all her energy to war, governing the country, and balancing the factions of the Knights of the Round Table, avoiding the responsibility of raising her child...
Because she never knew how to be a good parent in the first place.
"Ah, Your Majesty, you don't need to blame yourself so much about this you know~" Merlin said casually. "Because even if you devoted all your energy to educating him, Artorius would still turn out to be the same kind of person. After all, I am a wise man, and with just a glance, I can see what kind of person he is; he's not your obedient little darling."
"Artorius Pendragon is a born hero. His ambition rivals that of Alexander, Attila, or Julius Caesar. A person like him only has two outcomes—either death or becoming greater than anyone else. There is no third option... Ahh, look, Your Majesty, your great son is coming. Have you thought about how to bid him farewell?"
While Merlin spoke, Artorius had already finished his speech. The Knights of the Round Table guided the volunteers away. They headed south, boarded the ships in Londinium, and set sail for Gaul, where they would meet the Roman army.
Artorius himself turned around and headed towards the castle, preparing to bid farewell to his 'father', King Arthur.
He had many things he wanted to say to his dearest 'father'.