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All eyes, including those of Agravain, Lucan, and Geraint, were trained on Shirou. The people from Caerleon held onto hope that Shirou would be favorable towards them, while the Cornwall delegation regarded him with suspicion, uncertain if he would display impartiality.

Shirou shut his eyes, and after a brief moment of silence, he opened them and directed his gaze towards Bedivere. "According to the kingdom's laws, how is theft punished?"

"Are you saying that King Arthur will pass judgment on Cornwall?"

"That's right! That's our king! He's wise and just, and he knows everything!"

"It was obviously their fault! These disgusting thieves! They were trying to steal our food!"

The people from Caerleon conversed with fervor, their eyes alight with hope and admiration for Shirou. He had always been kind to them, and their affection for him was profound. He was the sort of king they aspired to follow.

On the contrary, the people from Cornwall appeared crestfallen, and a significant portion of them showed apprehension and animosity.

"I knew it! Who is King Arthur anyway? The British Red Dragon? It's just Camelot's Red Dragon!"

"He's the king of Camelot, not the king of Cornwall!"

"We need to figure out a way to expel these despicable foreigners!"

"I'd rather be under Vortigern's rule! Who knows, he might be more benevolent towards us!"

Rumors regarding King Arthur had been circulating throughout Cornwall for some time. However, most individuals had never harbored any hopes for Camelot, let alone King Arthur. Over the past decade, Camelot had never treated them as equals!

The oppressive policies implemented by Camelot had resulted in the kingdom losing the support of the populace in this region. The people of Cornwall regarded their counterparts from Caerleon and their king with animosity.

Geraint appeared somewhat uneasy, and the Cornwall ministers and nobles, despite their forced smiles, began to conceal their discontent.

Bedivere, sensing the tension, spoke up and addressed Shirou, "My King..."

Before he could finish, Agravain interjected and stated, "Your Majesty, in accordance with Carmelot's laws, the hand of the thief who was caught stealing should be cut off."

The people from Caerleon, whose food had been stolen, pointed at the thief from Cornwall and exclaimed, "He stole it with his right hand!"

"Cut off his right hand! Cut off his right hand!" The people from Caerleon shouted loudly.

Meanwhile, those from Cornwall remained quiet, their gazes filled with animosity as they glared at the people from Caerleon.

Shirou stood still, not uttering a word as he drew Agravain's sword. The sharp blade glistened coldly in the sunlight, capturing everyone's attention.

The people of Caerleon looked on with fanaticism, while the people of Cornwall were filled with resentment. The ministers and nobles who grasped the gravity of the situation - Lucan, Bedivere, and others - all wore expressions of sadness.

Meanwhile, Agravain's face remained emotionless.

Geraint and the other ministers and nobles from Cornwall shot hostile glares at Shirou, their eyes filled with resistance. The situation was crystal clear.

Arthur had made his choice in favor of Caerleon!

Did Cornwall truly need such a king?

However...

As Shirou turned his wrist, the sword made a "cha" sound, and its sharp silver blade pierced through his chest. Blood flowed down the length of the sword, forming droplets that fell to the ground with a "drip, drip" sound.

For a moment, everyone was stunned by what they had just witnessed.

"My king! What are you doing!?" Bedivere cried out in shock, attempting to pull the sword out of him, but Shirou shoved him away.

The pain searing through his body caused his facial muscles to twitch involuntarily.

In a deep, resolute voice, Shirou proclaimed, "The king is akin to a parent, and the people are like children. For ten long years, Cornwall has been plagued by poverty, and its people have been forced to steal even to satisfy their hunger. This is not the people's fault, but the king's! And he must be held accountable for his crime."

The people of Cornwall were stunned, and Geraint and the other ministers and nobles from Cornwall were somewhat moved.

Shirou turned to Agravain again and asked, "Agravain, according to the laws of the kingdom, what is the punishment for hurting someone?"

To which he responded, "As per the laws of the kingdom, the person who causes the injury must suffer the same fate in return. Therefore, the person responsible for breaking someone's leg must have their own leg broken as well."

Shirou drew Geraint's sword from its sheath and declared, "All the people are my children. I was unable to stop Vortigern's invasion, which caused them to be uprooted from their homes, displaced, and eventual crime. This is not the people's fault, but rather the king's! He must be held accountable!"

As he spoke, the sword made a sharp "cha" as it plunged into his abdomen. Shirou's face twisted in agony, his veins bulging as he broke out into a cold sweat, his breathing quickening.

The majority of the people from Cornwall remained indifferent, but those from Caerleon who held Shirou in high esteem were overcome with shame. "Your Majesty, please don't do this! You are a noble person!" they implored.

"Our sins do not warrant the punishment of our king! The gods will hold us accountable!" They loved this king deeply. He was the one who had given them hope and helped them break free from Vortigern's grasp. And now, their king was punishing himself on their behalf!

Shirou's forehead was damp with a cold sweat that trickled down and gathered at the tip of his nose before falling off. Two swords had pierced through his body, causing black-red blood to flow along the sharp blades, gathering at the tips before dripping down to the ground.

His temple veins bulged with the intense pain as he pulled out a sword from one of the Cornwall nobles and declared, "For ten long years, Cornwall has been neglected, bandits have been rampant, and farmland has been abandoned. This is also the king's fault! He deserves to be punished!"

With a sharp "cha" sound, another sword pierced through his body, causing blood to spatter around him.

Over the past decade, Shirou has borne the guilt of Camelot towards Cornwall. From the overbearing policies of Sir Ywain and Baldwin, to the inability to repel Vortigern's army, resulting in the people's displacement and terror.

One sword after another pierced through Shirou's body, causing blood to splatter everywhere. Before long, there were seven swords embedded in his body!

He had become a blood-soaked figure, standing in a pool of blood, with a face as pale as paper.

The people of Caerleon who held great affection and admiration for Shirou were overcome with emotion, their eyes brimming with tears.

Here was a king who, by all accounts, should have lived a life of opulence and splendor within the palace walls. He was meant to be the ruler of all, to have every luxury at his disposal. And yet, he carried the weight of the past on his own shoulders, taking all the blame and burden of countless sins upon himself. How could anyone not love and respect such a person, such a king?

The people of Caerleon were moved to tears, while many people in Cornwall could not bear to watch and looked away.

Their animosity towards Camelot ran deep, but this particular scene was simply too much to bear.

Even Bedivere, Lucan, and other nobles who had pledged their loyalty to Shirou were trembling and weeping.

Gawain and other nobles from Cornwall could no longer bear to witness the scene and looked away.

Agravain, who had maintained a stern expression, was now visibly shaken, his eye muscles twitching. The actions of Shirou had left them all utterly stunned.

Never before had there been a king like this - one who willingly took on all the blame and punishment upon himself!

Shirou breathed heavily, his body trembling as if he would collapse at any moment. He did not use the black mud to repair his body because he knew that he would not be able to subdue anyone if he did so while punishing himself.

However, in order to keep going, he used skills such as "Battle Continuation" and "Disengage" that he copied from the heroic spirits' army on the way from the "Root". But even with these skills, Shirou was nearing his limit.

He was now so numb that he could no longer feel the pain in his body, only a dull ache. His consciousness was beginning to falter, and he would sometimes have a three-second gap in his awareness, but he remained standing.

His face was pale, and he was covered in blood as he spoke, "All of this is because of my ten-year delay! If only I had come sooner, Camelot would never have fallen into this state! This is my sin, and I must be punished!"

Trembling, Shirou reached out and took hold of the hilt of Bedivere's sword.

Bedivere, tears streaming down his face, gripped Shirou's hand and cried out, "That's enough, my king! It's enough! You... you mustn't do this!"

"My king... You mustn't do this!" Gawain and others pleaded with tears in their eyes. Even nobles from Cornwall, such as Geraint, were moved to urge him.

Shirou looked at Bedivere and asked, "Are you... my knight?"

Bedivere, tears streaming down his face, replied, "Yes, my king! Of course, I am! I am your knight, Bedivere!"

"Then, I command you to let go!"

"My king!" Bedivere trembled.

"Let go!" He repeated.

Trembling with emotion, Bedivere let go of the sword and turned his head away, weeping.

Shirou drew his sword and looked around, and no one dared to meet his gaze, everyone turning away. Even the people of Cornwall, who were deeply dissatisfied with Camelot, turned away, unable to bear to look directly at this king.

Their hearts were full of hatred, but this king made them unable to look directly at him.

With a sharp "cha" sound, Shirou gripped his sword with both hands and plunged the blade into his own abdomen with great effort. Strangely, there was no pain, only a dull numbness. As he stood there, his face turned pale and he swayed unsteadily.

He spoke with trembling lips, "The sins of the past were all mine to bear as the king. Today, I shall take full responsibility for them. The laws of the kingdom are clear! From this day forward, whoever violates them, be it from the north or the south, king or commoner, shall face punishment! I am the Red Dragon of Britain, King Arthur! And I shall lead you towards a brighter future!"

As everyone gazed upon the king standing in a pool of blood, with eight swords piercing his body, they were all deeply moved and overwhelmed.

"King Arthur..."

A faint voice echoed in the distance, quickly spreading like wildfire and reaching everyone's ears.

Before long, the whole crowd was chanting in unison.

"King Arthur! King Arthur!"

In that moment, the people of Caerleon and Cornwall were united in their cry for their king.

Despite being covered in blood and having eight swords piercing his body, Shirou stood firmly on the ground, radiating a brilliant presence.

The people of Cornwall sensed it immediately and knew that a new king had arrived on this day.

Shirou breathed a sigh of relief, but the effort seemed to sap all his remaining strength.

"Your Majesty!"

"My King!!"

Bedivere and the others saw this, and with tears streaming down their faces, they rushed forward in a panic to help him up.

"What are you all standing there for!? Quickly pull out the swords! Pull it out!" Bedivere cried.

"You can't just pull it out like that! The blood loss will make it worse!"

"It's Merlin! Merlin is here!"

"Hold on, my king!"

"Arthur! Arthur! My little brother, why did you have to degrade yourself like this? Brother, your sister will save you!"

Shirou's consciousness began to blur and the voices around him became increasingly indistinct. Before long, he lost consciousness and passed out.

...

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