Times Have Changed, Sir!

"Up!"

"Down!"

"Middle!"

"Good reaction, but not enough!"

Amidst a series of shouting, interjections like "Ah!" "Oh!" and even "Fuck!" were mixed in. The collision of blunt weapons against each other and against the body produced crisp or muffled sounds. Together, they did battle training on the lawn in front of the White Castle of Camelot.

On one side of the battle stood the heir to the throne of Britain and the son of King Arthur, Crown Prince Artorius Pendragon. On the other side stood the most serious, feared, and even 'terrifying' member of the Knights of the Round Table, Sir Agravain of the Iron Hand.

Currently, Agravain was the one holding the advantage in the battle.

"To be honest, Sir Agravain, I'm getting tired of this kind of training—ow!"

Despite being only thirteen years old, the prince's speed, strength, and techniques were impeccable. He was exceptional among his peers. Unfortunately, his opponent was over twenty years older than him, with overwhelming physical prowess and experience.

"The King commanded me to train you, and I don't care whether you're tired of it or not."

Agravain calmly replied, simultaneously launching another attack without forgetting to respond. He attacked Artorius, finding any opening with his blunted sword.

"Okay, okay, I can compromise... but if possible, I'd rather receive training from a beauty, like that certain purple-haired lady in the tight-fitting suit for example. Isn't that the standard setup? Why does it turn into a cold and ruthless old man when it comes to me?—Ugh!!!"

"The King believes that I am the most suitable person in the Knights of the Round Table to train you. That's how it is."

"What about the purple-haired lady—Guhh!!!"

"The Knights of the Round Table have no women."

Upon hearing the other person's earnest remark, the expression on the pretty boy's face instantly became comical; he remembered a certain blonde wolf girl.

"Hehe." As Artorius let out a laugh, he was struck in the head by Agravain's fist. "Fuck!"

"As a prince, using foul language deducts points."

Then came a kick. Although at the same time, Artorius also landed a hit on Agravain's chest, it seemed to have little effect on him.

"Wearing armor is against the rules, Sir Agravain!"

"If you're willing to fight in armor, you may do so."

Artorius rolled his eyes. Among the Knights of the Round Table, he ranked high in speed and agility. If he fought in armor, he would lose his only advantage and go from having a slight chance of winning to having none.

The next second, they exchanged blows once again. Artorius was sent flying several meters away and fell to the ground, gasping for air.

"..."

Agravain did not pursue further. After all, his purpose was training, not victory, let alone murder. "Today's sparring practice is—"

"—No, wait." However, Artorius interrupted him and managed to struggle to his feet.

"You don't look well, Your Highness. Do you need me to call a doctor for you? Or perhaps a mage or an alchemist? Anyone except for Lord Merlin, of course."

"Who do you think is to blame for this... No, it's not the time to dwell on such matters."

Wiping the bloodstain from the corner of his mouth, Artorius retorted irritably, "What I mean is... let's continue the battle."

"But—"

"Yeah, yeah, you think I'm no longer capable of fighting, right? Ever since I started my training, it's been years of getting beaten up left and right. Is that what you think, Sir Agravain?"

"That's the essence of training, Your Highness; the King also agrees. These challenges will make you stronger. And besides..."

"Forget it. 'He' is never been a good... 'Father'. We all know that."

Artorius continued in a displeased tone.

"Your Highness, when it comes to the King, I believe you should show more respect..."

"Ah, yes, respect, respect, but that's not the point. The point is the outcome, not the process..."

"Outcome?"

"Yes, the outcome. Times have changed, Sir..." With a click sound, Artorius retrieved a... handgun from his pocket.

"What is that...?"

"My secret weapon. I named it the Short-Barrel Self-Igniting Hand Cannon, although I prefer it to be called the Smoky Flash Knight Demise or simply Knight Demise for a more stylish feel. Feel free to suggest any other cool names you like."

Hearing Artorius's words, Agravain maintained a steady expression, but there was a hint of strangeness in his thoughts. "To me, it seems like a delicate alchemical device with little practical use, unworthy of the title Knight's Demise... So, where did you get it? Lord Merlin, or some alchemist? Did it involve forbidden magecraft?"

"No, of course not, I still know the rules."

Artorius spoke casually, "As for where I got it... Do you know how troublesome the fairy of Avalon can be? Especially for someone as gorgeous as me... Oh, right, I forgot you have no luck with women. I should ask Merlin about these things, but whatever."

He aimed the gun at Agravain, "Prophecies, Astrology, You, Father, and all the Knights of the Round Table believe that I will bring change to this country. And I believe it too... so screw you, Agravain!"

He pulled the trigger, targeting his arm. But...

The bullet was easily slapped away by Agravain the Iron Hand.

"Wait, this shouldn't be happening..."

In the next second, Agravain charged forward, landing a punch on Artorius's chin.