Among the human tribe, inside a small, ramshackle house Merlin had pompously named "Britain's Temporary Embassy in the Other World and the King's Palace," Arthur lay sprawled in what looked like a comfortable position, silently conducting his intelligence analysis.
It was the day after the Elves were subdued and the Flügel captured. No matter how loudly the other races clamored outside, it made little difference to Arthur.
After all, Jibril had once destroyed the Elf capital, and humans were considered weak by every race. It was unthinkable that either Elves or humans could be responsible for the disappearance of a superior species.
After all, weak races were meant to be ravaged, not to accomplish great feats like kidnapping their betters.
So—
"Merlin, the smile on your face is disgusting. If you don't back away, I'll feel a lot better. Maybe I should help by chopping off that disgusting smile myself?" Arthur said with clear distaste.
"Don't say that, my king. This is food I specially brought from Britain—prepared by Lord Manaka herself. Very rare." Merlin placed the plate before Arthur with an ingratiating air.
On ordinary days, even if he loathed Merlin, Arthur could never resist fine food—especially dishes crafted by Manaka, treasures in their own right.
But times were different now.
"Merlin, you useless half-demon! Go back at once. If you don't finish your task, I'll curse you to death!" Arthur snapped bitterly.
After unleashing the Werebeasts against the Dwarves and gathering basic intelligence, Arthur, Merlin, and Merry had launched simultaneous operations targeting the Elves, Vampires, and Dwarves. Only Arthur succeeded.
Yes, the attempts to subjugate the Dhampirs and Dwarves had failed.
Arthur had anticipated the Dwarves' resistance, so Merry's failure wasn't punished.
But the Vampires were another matter.
According to their intelligence, the Vampire clan should have been relatively easy prey for Britain. Even if their loyalty couldn't be secured, they could at least be turned into pawns.
Yet Merlin had failed.
Of course, Vampire No. 12 had strengths worth noting.
The Dhampirs were famed for their mastery of disguise and concealment magic. Freshly fed on blood, their manipulation of spirit energy surpassed even that of the Elves, and could deceive the Old Deus themselves.
A formidable asset, indeed.
As scouts, aside from their fatal weakness to sunlight, they were almost invulnerable.
But Merlin was stronger still.
Where Vampires achieved their peak only in fleeting bursts, Merlin's mastery of magic and illusion was constant—his deceptions sharp enough to threaten the Old Deus at any time.
And in terms of sheer strength, Merlin—swordmaster of Britain—was unmatched. His half-demon nature also made him immune to vampiric charms. By all rights, he could have infiltrated their lair and acted unchallenged.
And that is exactly what he did.
For once, Merlin had not shirked his duty. He'd gone in head-on and fought.
If Britain heard of it, no one would believe it.
Merlin—disobeying orders, directly engaging in battle, and without permission? Unthinkable.
But in truth, when he realized how much Vampires overlapped with his own role, the "man who did not understand human emotions" suddenly felt fear—fear of being replaced. And so, together with Merry, he stormed the Vampires' lair, turning it into his own Musou battlefield.
Conquer them? Win them over?
Impossible. Anyone who dared compete for the king's favor would be eliminated.
Those little bats might not match him in strength, but they were more numerous and far more obedient. If subdued, they could render the great sage of Britain irrelevant.
That was unacceptable.
"Oh, my king, don't put me on the spot. Even if I went back now, those little bats already see me as an enemy. They'd never hear me out—only attack without mercy." Merlin gave a helpless smile.
A rogue's excuse.
Arthur's mouth twitched. Why was Merlin acting like such a fool all of a sudden?
Does he think Vampires could replace the bond we've built? I'm not that shallow. …Although, a troop of obedient little Merlins, weakened and docile, all following my orders—
Arthur paused mid-thought.
You know what? That is tempting.
Individually weaker, but numerous and obedient… compared to Merlin, they were almost ideal.
Maybe too ideal.
If I had a Vampire retinue, I'd understand exactly why Merlin and Merry were sidelined.
Arthur shot Merlin a meaningful look.
Could this idiot actually have seen through me?
"Stop arguing. This is all your fault. I told you to win them over peacefully. A little coercion or temptation was fine—but you made the situation irreparably hostile. The responsibility is yours. Apologize!" Arthur scolded, though his guilty glance aside betrayed hesitation.
"That's right! That's right! This guy ruined our king's plan without permission. His sins are so grave even my elder sister couldn't forgive him. He should die ten times to atone!" Merry chimed in gleefully.
"Fuwu Fuwu!" Fou added its shrill agreement.
"See, my king? Even Cath Palug agrees!" Merlin quipped.
Merlin cast his twin a frigid glance.
If memory served, she had suggested this approach first.
Arthur knew as much. "Why don't you go, then?"
"…Ow! Curse those savage goblins, attacking me yesterday without warning! My injury's flared up again—it hurts so much, my king. I'm unfit for such an important mission!" Merry howled theatrically, warning Merlin with a sharp glare while slyly sneaking her hand to grope Arthur.
So despicable.
Even Merlin stared in jealous contempt.
Arthur arched a brow but ignored the pair of British degenerates. Lately, the two incubi had grown ever more shameless—perhaps even infecting him. Best to keep his distance.
Calm down.
Though the Dwarves hadn't been subdued, the Elves had. As their ancient enemy, they could still be leveraged to sway the Dwarves.
And besides, though the plan to capture Vampires was meant for intelligence gathering, fortune had smiled yesterday with the unexpected capture of a Flügel.
A superior race—the first Britain had encountered. They surely knew countless secrets.
In that sense, their intelligence could more than make up for the loss.
The only question was how to pry open the mouth of the Flügel girl.
Arthur's eyes shifted toward her.
Huddled in the corner, trembling with rage, the Flügel glared back at him.
-End Chapter-
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