[As per the agreement, you left the royal court.]
[From that day on, a rumor began to spread across the land of Britain—a knight had killed his two fellow companions.]
[You knew it was a carefully crafted lie by Morgan, cutting off any path for your return.]
[Your talent, Affinity, has been replaced by Affinity (Malice): Instead of expressing your thoughts kindly, you, now bearing an ill reputation, are more inclined to use threats. Your words and actions are perceived in a less friendly manner.]
[Your talent, Battle Continuation, has been enhanced to Battle Continuation+: Due to Morgan's instructions by the bath, until you assassinate Vortigern, you can stand up no matter how severe your injuries are.]
[You've wandered alone for a long time, but due to your loyalty to Morgan, you never felt lonely.]
At the edge of a small border town.
Going a bit farther, you'd enter the area ravaged by Vortigern's forces.
Ian chose to take a break here.
Inside a tavern, townspeople were happily drinking from wooden mugs, talking about all sorts of things—even though the war could reach them at any moment, under the protection of the British army, they felt entitled to do so.
"Hey, hey!" A man with a goatee, reeking of alcohol, spoke up. "Have you heard? Apparently, there's a knight who killed his two comrades and is now on the run!"
Ian knew they were talking about him; he had heard similar remarks many times on his journey.
But he didn't mind.
Because everyone was merely spreading rumors, no one had taken the time to investigate the truth.
This was exactly what Morgan wanted.
Thus—
The princess's vision is the knight's vision.
Ian was willing to accept this, even if it meant being in dire straits.
"Yeah, I know."
The fat man beside the goatee nodded.
"What kind of grudge would make him kill like that?"
"Who knows?" The goatee took another large gulp of wine. "But hey, have you heard about the Crown Prince lately?"
"I know about that!"
A skinny man joined the conversation.
"Apparently, some decision was made before the expedition, right?"
"..."
Ian was more concerned about any information regarding Morgan than his own matters; clad in a long coat, he quietly listened to the three men's conversation.
[You hold your breath, listening intently to the three men's conversation.]
[You hear about the ceremony celebrating the birth of a new royal heir, an event that seems to have even reached this remote town.]
[You learned quite a bit about the banquet from Morgan, but the following conversation caught you completely off guard.]
[They believe that after King Uther, the new heir will take over the throne of Britain and become the new king.]
[You realize that someone, like Morgan, is spreading certain rumors, yet even so, you can't control your rationality.]
With a loud smack.
Ian shattered the already wobbly tavern table.
Everyone in the tavern turned their eyes toward him—they had no idea why this tall man, cloaked in a coat, had done such a thing.
"The King of Britain will not be that new heir!"
"The glory of this land will always belong to the princess!"
Before he could make a bigger scene, Ian threw down enough coins to cover the damages and stormed out of the tavern.
The crowd watched his departing figure, exchanging bewildered looks.
"Where did that lunatic come from?"
"Forget him, let's keep drinking."
The tavern gradually returned to its usual state, as if Ian had never been there.
[You left the tavern and began traveling day and night.]
[You crossed mountains, rivers, and forests.]
[You entered the area ravaged by Vortigern's forces, but even a petty king like him was not as easy to find as you thought.]
[You realized that at this rate, you wouldn't be able to complete the task Morgan had given you, and you needed to take more aggressive measures.]
[If you can't find Vortigern, then make Vortigern come to you.]
[You killed some of Vortigern's soldiers; this was effortless for a former knight like you.]
[You killed more and more soldiers, and in this land far from the royal court, your words began to spread—just as you intended.]
[One day, an old man claiming to be Vortigern appeared before you, without any guards.]
[He willingly engaged in combat with you, defeating you within a few moves. You realized the vast power gap between you two and understood the difficulty King Uther faced in his campaign.]
[Battle Continuation+ activated: You never forgot Morgan's instructions, and your vitality became extraordinarily tenacious. Even as Vortigern trampled on your wounds, leaving your blood all over the ground, you did not die.]
[Vortigern became interested in you, or rather, in your relentless will to survive.]
[He secretly brought you back to his camp and gave you the best care.]
[Your body gradually recovered, and you realized your plan had succeeded.]
[That day, Vortigern appeared before you once more.]
"Finally awake, young man?"
Vortigern sat down beside Ian.
"I thought you'd need more time, but you're tougher than I expected."
Although he opposed King Uther and allied with Britain's longtime enemies, the Saxons, at this moment, Vortigern exuded an aura that rivaled that of the royal court.
Ian couldn't even tell if this was a natural kingly presence or the brilliance accumulated from years of warfare.
But Ian hadn't forgotten his mission.
He began to disguise himself.
"Yes, thanks to your care, White Dragon King, I'm recovering well."
"Young man, tell me."
Vortigern stared directly at him; though aged, his gaze still held formidable authority.
"Why did you cross mountains and rivers just to draw my attention in this way?"
Ian's heart trembled.
Had Vortigern already seen through his intentions, and that's why he appeared before him?
"White Dragon King, I was condemned in anger with certain crimes. I cannot accept these judgments imposed on me, so I came from afar, hoping to seek your protection and save my life."
"Hmph." Vortigern sneered.
"Ian, the stray knight from the royal court. You killed your fellow knights; you deserve punishment."
Ian took a sharp breath.
Vortigern knew everything; he merely wanted to see how Ian would respond.
Fortunately, Morgan had kept Ian locked away, and those missing years severed his ties with others, leaving only the crime of killing his companions.
"But—"
Vortigern shifted his tone.
"If what you killed were not companions but enemies, then there would be no crime to speak of, would there?"
"Ian, if you seek my protection, prove it with their blood."