"What are you doing here!?"
Lot narrowed his eyes as he addressed little Gawain.
The distance from Camelot to here was no short journey.
You're not even four… months old yet isn't it dangerous for a child like you to come all this way?
You little brat, if something really happened to you, how could your mother and I bear it?
You're this close to getting a spanking.
Beside him, Morgan was already scanning the surroundings, as if searching for the best tool to discipline their child with.
Thankfully, this era had yet to produce a divine artifact like the "Seven Wolves Belt," otherwise, little Gawain would have been in for a world of pain today.
"Um, I just haven't seen Father in so long!"
Little Gawain grinned cheekily.
Then, she proceeded to recount her entire journey to Lot and Morgan how she had nimbly slipped through a hole in the palace wall, sneaked onto a grain transport cart, and followed the supply convoy all the way here. She left out no detail.
Once she finished, little Gawain rubbed her stomach.
"So… is there any food? I'm really hungry after all that traveling."
Hearing this, Lot and Morgan exchanged a glance.
Here, little Gawain had made two critical mistakes.
First, she failed to grasp the severity of the situation. Instead of immediately admitting her wrongdoing, she had the audacity to grin at both Lot and Morgan. Little did she know, that grin only stoked their fury further.
Second, what exactly had she said? She mentioned missing her father but not a word about her mother.
Combine the two…
"Heaven's wrath can be avoided, but self-inflicted doom cannot be escaped."
Lot thought of a philosophical saying that Morgan would undoubtedly find profound.
Then, he turned to leave.
But before he could take a single step, little Gawain tugged at the hem of his clothes.
"Papa, what are we eating later?"
She was nothing if not persistent.
"Well…" Looking at her expression, Lot gently patted her head and said, "Your mother will prepare some 'Bamboo Shoots and Pork' for you."
Then
Before little Gawain could react Lot swiftly extricated himself and made his escape.
All that remained was her bewildered figure…
And the increasingly terrifying aura radiating from Queen Morgan behind her.
A dragon
No, a creature far more sinister than Vortigern himself was now unleashing her wrath.
The moment Lot stepped outside the castle, he heard little Gawain's bloodcurdling shrieks.
"Oh, my dear daughter, may you survive this day in one piece."
Lot silently made the sign of the cross in prayer.
Then
He glanced at Galatine, the Sword of the Sun, in his hand, uncertain how to proceed.
Logically, this sword belonged to Gawain.
But right now, Gawain was still just a child.
If she couldn't become an immediate combat asset against Vortigern… what if they lost the war?
Lot hesitated.
Amidst little Gawain's screams, he fell deep into thought.
After a while, Morgan emerged, refreshed and satisfied, carrying a thoroughly chastised little Gawain who now understood the harsh realities of the world.
Little Gawain shot Lot a pitiful look.
Papa… so this is what you meant by 'Bamboo Shoots and Pork'?
Ugh.
So mean!
I… I…
She briefly considered biting him, but after taking in Lot's handsome face, she reconsidered.
Such a dashing father shouldn't be harmed.
Hmph…
As she stewed in her thoughts, Morgan unceremoniously dumped her into Lot's arms, then imperiously waved a hand.
"Let's eat."
"Right away!"
Hearing this, Lot perked up immediately. He patted little Gawain's head in consolation before carrying her inside.
At that moment, little Gawain noticed Galatine hanging at Lot's waist.
Poking the hilt curiously, she asked, "Papa, what kind of sword is this?"
The moment she showed interest in the blade, Lot eagerly explained:
"This? This is Galatine, the Sword of the Sun."
"Galatine… Hmm, it sounds so… familiar."
Gawain nibbled her thumb, her eyes shining with anticipation.
Yet she didn't outright ask for it.
Not because the earlier 'Bamboo Shoots and Pork' had scared her straight
But because she knew she wasn't old enough to wield such a sword yet.
If her father had other plans for it, she couldn't afford to cause trouble for him or her mother.
Lot could see her longing clearly.
With a soft smile, he took Galatine and placed it in little Gawain's hands.
"Do you like it? Then it's yours now."
[Even if it means losing some advantage in the battle against the Tyrant King Vortigern… if little Gawain loves this sword, then it belongs to her. Sometimes, a man must follow his heart.]
[I believe that with my own Joyeuse at my side, I can achieve even greater feats than Galatine ever could.]
As he spoke, Morgan nodded in agreement.
Sure, the little rascal could be infuriating at times but she was still their child.
And they would spoil her.
As for how to deal with Vortigern…
They'd figure something out.
"But… won't this interfere with Papa's plans?"
Little Gawain clutched the sword reluctantly.
"What plans? Your father's plan was always to give you Galatine. Remember this is a holy sword, something your father went through great lengths to obtain. Treasure it."
Morgan reasserted her domineering tone.
Or rather, her demeanor was always unyielding except when it came to Lot.
At the same time, she made sure to educate little Gawain on the sword's value.
She certainly wasn't about to tell her that Lot had acquired it with almost no effort just a casual fishing trip, and he'd come back with it in hand.
If Gawain knew how easily he'd obtained it, would she still cherish it?
It was like wealthy parents telling their kids, "Spend as much as you want we make money easily." That kind of attitude bred nothing but spoiled heirs.
The things they worked for were meant for her and Lot to enjoy
Not for their child to squander.
"Oh… okay."
The moment Morgan glared at her, little Gawain hurriedly hugged Galatine tight.
Even though her tiny frame was still shorter than the sword itself, making the sight somewhat comical
She held onto it fiercely, refusing to let go.
At the same time, she burned Morgan's words into her heart.
Her father had gone through great hardship to obtain this. If he was giving it to her, she couldn't let him down.
"If only I could help Papa sooner…"
Little Gawain thought earnestly in Lot's arms.
West of the Castle All the Way to Wales
Whether commoners or nobles, everyone in this region had been plunged into terror these past few days.
What had they seen?
A dragon soaring across their skies.
A body brimming with destructive power, a breath of pure terror leaving people trembling in its wake.
It felt as though the apocalypse had arrived.
Fear.
Panic.
These emotions spread like wildfire across the southwestern edge of Britain.
Days later, news finally arrived.
That demonic dragon… was none other than Vortigern, the Tyrant King.
Instantly
The terror deepened.
If it had just been a mindless beast, they wouldn't have cared as much.
After all, legends said such dragons only wreaked havoc in one place before moving on. At worst, they'd suffer losses but not complete annihilation.
But if it was Vortigern
That changed everything.
Who in Britain didn't know Vortigern's ambitions?
He sought to rule the entire island.
Now that he had become a dragon
Did that mean their future was one of draconic tyranny?
Even the Saxons shared these fears.
They had been willing to submit to Vortigern the King but Vortigern the Dragon?
That was a line they dared not cross.
A human ruler, no matter how cruel, had limits.
But a dragon's rule?
No one could fathom what horrors awaited.
And indeed, the Saxons' fears were justified.
Upon his return as a dragon, Vortigern took one look at his remaining followers and overcome with rage unleashed a torrent of dragonfire upon them.
Casualties were instant and immense.
Once finished, he retreated to his palace and collapsed.
His wounds had yet to heal.
Now, he needed rest.
And so, he began recuperating
While using his terrifying breath to reign terror upon the Saxons.
Around this time, news of Vortigern's defeat also spread.
Only then did people learn that Vortigern had become like this because he had been defeated in battle against Camelot. His grievous injuries had forced this transformation.
Ah so while Vortigern was powerful, there were still those who could oppose him.
King Lot and Queen Morgan were his natural counters.
Now, even the Saxons began praying for Lot and Morgan to march their armies here and slay Vortigern once and for all.
Many began migrating toward Camelot.
Even if life there was humble
It was better than living under a dragon's shadow.
Vortigern saw this exodus.
But he didn't stop them.
Run all you want.
I'll be right here.
Once my wounds heal, I'll set out to conquer all of Britain.
Then, let's see where you can run.
He tried to rest.
But someone interrupted.
"Do you have a death wish?"
Vortigern glared at the tiny fairy envoy standing on the tip of his snout.
Annoyance radiated from his draconic form.
Yet the fairy remained unruffled. Smiling, he said:
"Respected King Vortigern, of course, you could kill me just as you betrayed my kin. We never expected that not a single one of our brave fairy warriors who fought alongside the mighty Tyrant King would return."
"I wonder could Your Majesty explain this to the fairies? Why did you launch an attack without "
Before he could finish, Vortigern's claw came crashing down.
The envoy was reduced to paste.
"Since when do I answer to fairies?" He turned to the deputy envoy and growled, "You lot really think I'm your subordinate? That fool's death means nothing just like the spies you planted in my army. Even if they hadn't died in battle, I'd have slaughtered them all myself. Any objections?"
"N-none at all!"
Trembling at his superior's gruesome fate, the deputy didn't dare breathe wrong.
"Good. That's more like it."
Vortigern nodded in satisfaction.
Then, he demanded:
"Now what do you fairies want this time? Morgan's surely seen your dead by now. Even an idiot would know you're allied with me. So aren't you going to offer some assistance?"
His draconic eyes gleamed with cunning.
He may have become a dragon
But he was no mindless beast.
"W-we will do our best to aid you, Your Majesty. But for now… we need your help."
The deputy envoy spoke meekly.
"What kind of help?"
"We need you to… rampage across Britain. Spread destruction."
The deputy braced himself.
"Destruction? So you want me to draw attention while you schemers work in the shadows?"
Vortigern saw through their ploy instantly.
"Yes."
"Fine. Let's see what you worthless creatures can accomplish."
Vortigern agreed.
Then with a single breath he reduced his painstakingly built palace to rubble.
Taking to the skies, he called down to the deputy:
"But mark my words if it's schemes you're relying on, even you fairies are no match for Lot. To defeat him, you need overwhelming power."
The dragon soared across the heavens, unleashing carnage unlike anything Britain had ever seen.