After Morgan's therapy, I feel much better. My dragon genes aren't in my children, but each of them took a trait from me.
Morgan's pregnancy was only because of Alaya's intervention and that tattoo, and it was a one-time thing—it won't happen again.
I covered the sleeping Morgan, put on my clothes, and left the room, but Ranulf was waiting for me.
It was certain he had important news. Ranulf usually didn't carry his weapon, as it was a huge risk during infiltration missions.
When he saw me, I noticed a relief on his face, as if he'd finally found what he was looking for: "My lord, there's news from the other kingdoms. They're planning a trade agreement with Orkney, but some kings want to fight you. What are your orders?"
What? I'm shocked when I hear this from Ranulf. I displayed Pellinore's head publicly, like some ritual from the East. "Friend, are you sure there isn't an assassin by your side at any moment?"
I'm certain of this because no one in the Brotherhood's loyalty could ever be questioned. They were all bound by a geas, with a bomb placed in their tongues through magecraft. If anyone tried to leak information, they'd explode. As for sending written messages? Ha, don't joke. I trusted Morgan for that.
It's not just their tongues; their minds are bound by contract magecraft, too. Thinking of writing? Sorry, you'd explode. Sign language? Sorry, Killer Queen saw it coming.
That's why I'm so relaxed. If someone managed to betray such a grand contract, I'd praise their brain and blame myself.
Ranulf was still standing in front of me. I looked into his eyes: "Now listen carefully. sent a letter to the kings plotting against me. The gist will be this: 'You can come to me when you've managed to wound Vortigern. If you can't, just sit on your sorry asses, or I'll take pleasure in driving a stake through them. That should be good enough, I hope."
Ranulf was trembling. If the kings were provoked enough, he knew I wouldn't hesitate to act. My words were quite heavy for this era.
With my eyes closed, thinking of how else I could insult them, I saw Ranulf trembling. I put my hand on his shoulder: "After that letter reaches their hands, have a rose placed on their beds. The Brotherhood is responsible for this mission."
Ranulf relaxed, saluted his lord, and quickly disappeared.
I was still maintaining contact with Balin. Even around him, there were assassins he didn't know about—at least four.
I fear King Vortigern might catch me at a weak moment. Despite my cutting off his forearm, he's still attacking villages outside the kingdom.
But I don't care. Vortigern won't attack me—at least not yet. To him, I'm a high-level threat, and the Saxons I hold (slaves) are like hostages.
Vortigern wouldn't care, but the other Saxons, no matter how crazed, surely have family among them.
If he attacks me, it would spark a small-scale civil war. That's not a problem for Vortigern; the real issue is that this war could spiral out of control and turn into a massive crisis.
So, unless necessary, he won't attack me. I've bet everything on that, and I wouldn't provoke him either.
But I'm sure we're both thinking the same thing: a dead enemy is a good enemy.
Normally, I hated those who stayed away from plot out of fear of disrupting the main storyline in my previous world, especially in Korean academy novels and Chinese fanfictions.
Their mc often did this, but I didn't care.
My indifference didn't mean Alaya or Gaia would feel the same.
If I killed Vortigern now, the timeline might turn into a Lostbelt.
Honestly, I pity Artoria—just a little.
If I were her, I'd hate the title "King of Knights." It makes her sound more like a knightly leader than a king, which would be bad for me.
Looking out the palace window, the knights guard the palace, while my children are on the grass in the courtyard.
They're laughing with each other, acting like four-year-olds, but in this era, people matured early. Personally, in my previous world, my grandmother married at twelve.
(This is true, an example from my own family.)
But my grandmother always helped her mother from a young age, dealing with household chores, even helping with meals.
The children of my time, however, seemed immature to me, even at eighteen, very spoiled. Seeing such things, I understand their families never disciplined them or let them get beaten.
(I got beaten a lot and fought a lot outside, but if I learned one thing, it's never to back down, or you'll be bullied. Once, I got beaten by twenty-four people, but I didn't run. I did my best. A tip from the writer: never lose your confidence in these matters, or you'll regret it.)
I stepped outside the palace and saw their games. They were so focused on playing that they didn't notice me. Gareth was being chased by Agravain, who was enjoying it, while Agravain was trying to catch her like a mad bull.
Gawain, meanwhile… was wrestling with Gaheris.
I watched them from a distance. Agravain shouted, "You spat on me, woman. You'll pay!" Gareth was fake-crying: "Oh, Agravain is after me! Daddy, Daddy!"
As Gareth ran, I showed myself. Agravain didn't see me and kept following, but it happened—Gareth turned and headed toward a wall. As she spun, Agravain saw me.
I lifted Gareth and looked at her face. She was smiling at me; my goodness, her smile would outshine even flowers: "Daddy, this bad man tried to hit me! Beat him up!"
Agravain's eyes widened; maybe his berserker side was about to emerge: "Father, she's lying! The bad one is Gareth—she spat on me!"
I tugged Gareth's ears gently, not to hurt: "Look out for each other." Then Gareth smiled: "Yes, Daddy!" and ran off, but Agravain stopped.
"Son, listen, no matter how much your little sister teases you, protect her. After all, I won't live forever."
Then I hugged Agravain, feeling his tears, but these are the truths. If Morgan were here, she'd put them through harsh training. I said I'd train them when they're old enough.
I'll pass my assassination techniques to Agravain under certain conditions, as he's the most suitable in my eyes.
I'll teach Gawain some of my knowledge about the sun, but only a portion, as most of it would just confuse him.
For Gareth, I thought about teaching spear and shield mastery. Gaheris will be a hybrid version of Morgan and me, so I'm thinking of entrusting him to Morgana.
Agravain will suffer, that's certain, and I can't be the one to torment him. The Brotherhood or, if necessary, Morgan will do it, as she helped with my (torturous) training.
Morgan will be upset, but I'm sure she'll oversee their survival in the best way possible.
After all, Morgan and my motto is: mercy in training is betrayal.
This applies both to yourself and to the person in front of you.
Then I let Agravain go and went to Gaheris and Gawain, who were rolling on the ground.
I joined them—it was quite fun.
Three Hours Later
After tending to my children, I was drinking my wine in the palace. The paperwork wasn't heavy—ten-minute tasks—since the kingdom had expanded and become more prosperous.
So, I decided to relax and open the chat group.
[Kazuma: I'm sleeping in a stable because of that damned goddess!!! Lot, please, please help me!]
[Killua: That's pathetic, but you deserved it.]
[Makima: Are goddesses that useless?]
[King Lot: No, they just have different strengths. If used well, even Kazuma could be strong.]
[Kazuma: Senpaiii, you finally came! Please help! If it weren't for Killua, I'd have starved.]
[Killua: Be grateful. Finding food during the Hunter Exam isn't easy.]
[King Lot: Hmm, I see. Kazuma, I hope this helps.]
I asked one of the knights nearby to bring a sturdy sword. It arrived quickly, and I selected the gift option from the system and sent it to Kazuma.
[Kazuma: Senpai, what's with this sword?]
[King Lot: The Sword of Damocles, an ultra-rare sword. Be grateful.]
[Gilgamesh: What? What's that sword doing with you?]
[Makima: Is there such a sword?]
[King Lot: Of course, I'm kidding. The sword I sent him is a good one, but it's just a normal sword made for my elite knights. By the way, Gilgamesh, why didn't you help Kazuma?]
[Gilgamesh: I only help those who earn my respect, and he's not worthy of any sword I have. It'd vanish the moment he touched it.]
[Killua: Seriously? I want to see you fight.]
[Makima: I'm sure she's strong…]
Before she could finish, another screen popped up.
The thing I feared had come to pass.
(Friends, I'm leaving the first mission of the chat group to you. Don't forget to comment on which world it should be in!)