Chereads / Type-Moon: The Human Love Simulator / Chapter 59 - Type-Moon: The Human Love Simulator [59]

Chapter 59 - Type-Moon: The Human Love Simulator [59]

"Uther, you selfish old bastard!"

When Tiberius learned that Uther's dying prophecy was to choose the next king through the Sword in the Stone, his fury exploded. This was not what they had agreed upon!

Uther had no sons, and his only daughter was a fae queen of Avalon, meaning he essentially had no heir. Before last year's Samhain Festival, Tiberius had already discussed the matter of Camelot's succession with Uther.

This was precisely why Tiberius, Rome's governor in Britannia, had thrown his full support behind Uther.

With Uther lacking an heir, the question of Camelot's next ruler was wide open—an opportunity that could benefit Rome immensely. This potential gain was enough to motivate the Roman official to aid Uther.

Firstly, the successor would undoubtedly be a Celtic lord. That much was certain.

But Tiberius, knowing Uther's cunning, had mentally crossed off each candidate Uther suggested.

He suspected Uther's manipulations, but the stakes were too high to take chances. Allowing another Uther-like king to ascend would not serve Rome's interests.

During Uther's reign, the Roman Empire had gained little from Britannia. Uther frequently used the excuse of the "Wicked King" to deflect any Roman demands, and Tiberius dared not push too hard, fearing the complete breakdown of diplomatic niceties.

Tiberius's priorities were clear—he cared nothing for superficial respect. What he wanted was tangible gains to send back to Rome: Britannia's grain and weapons.

Taxes were out of the question; securing resources like grain and weapons—even through trade—would be considered a success.

Britannian weaponry had always astonished Tiberius, especially the arms forged in Maple Ridge, which surpassed Roman craftsmanship. He had no idea how these "barbarians" managed to advance so far in that particular field.

After a long and intricate political dance with Uther, Tiberius felt confident with a second list of names as potential successors, a list he then brought back to his headquarters. He began covert negotiations with the most ambitious dukes.

These powerful lords, ruling vast lands and commanding mighty forces, were only a step away from the throne of Camelot. It was impossible for them to ignore Uther's crown. Moreover, many of them were distantly related to Uther, making their claims somewhat legitimate.

Tiberius's ideal outcome was to see Camelot fractured, with the lords fighting for the crown, each reliant on Roman backing.

But Uther's dying declaration had thrown a wrench into his plans. The Sword in the Stone gained almost universal recognition among the Celts—what choice did anyone have now except to draw the sword?

"No… there's still hope."

Tiberius took a deep breath, suppressing his anger as his eyes regained their calculated focus. "Greed knows no limits, and Uther's prophecy will not quell every ambition."

He bent over his desk, quickly penning letters.

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As Uther's steward and brother-in-arms, Ector wielded significant authority in Camelot.

However, facing the entirety of the Celtic lords, he was not the rightful king. So, Ector called back his estranged brother who had fled to Gaul—the Knight of the Lake, Lancelot—to back him up.

Lancelot's martial prowess was unmatched in his era. Without Kaelar, even King Arthur would not be a match for Lancelot. That's how formidable he was.

Lancelot bore the blood of the fae, a half-brother to Ector, and his strength rivaled even the dragonkin.

With Lancelot's support and Ector's deep understanding of Celtic ways, they quickly quelled any dissent.

Within Uther's palace, Ector sat armored beneath the throne, his gaze cold as he surveyed the gathered lords. Beside him stood the brooding and melancholic Lancelot—a powerful man who, despite his gloomy demeanor, was an army unto himself.

Nearly all the rebellious lords had faced Lancelot's wrath at some point, and they now sat docile as kittens, finally paying heed to Ector's words.

"Ector, my brother, why hasn't your son, Kaelar, come?"

Lancelot cradled the meticulously repaired Holy Sword, Arondight, in his arms. "With Kaelar here, why would we need to concern ourselves with these people?"

Ector shook his head. "Lancelot, you know as well as I do—Kaelar does not heed my commands. I cannot simply summon him."

But you can summon me?

Now that he thought about it, Lancelot had traveled all the way from Gaul at his brother's summons, leaving his own lands behind—perhaps Ector did wield some influence after all...

The Celts were often called Gauls by the Romans, as both tribes shared common roots before parting ways over a millennium ago, much like the Qin and Zhao states of ancient China.

Lancelot ruled a territory in Gaul. Though Europe was in chaos, Lancelot's strength was more than enough to secure his domain.

"When he comes, I'll challenge him again!" Lancelot's spirits lifted as he said, "Last time, Kaelar defeated me, and my mother told me he could cut through any weapon. She warned me not to challenge him with a sword."

As he spoke, Lancelot grabbed a nearby railing and snapped it, the broken piece becoming a staff. It glowed with a dark magical aura—he had transformed it into a Noble Phantasm right then and there.

"This is a spell my mother taught me. Now I won't have to worry about damaging my weapons."

So that exquisite sword at your hip—the one forged by fae—is purely ornamental, huh?

No wonder Lancelot never drew the sword during his time in Camelot. When teaching those lords a lesson, he used whatever came to hand.

Seems like he's been preparing for this for a while.

Ector said, "It's time. Lancelot, go inform the lords to gather in the palace for the matter of the Sword in the Stone."

"Sigh, if it weren't for my duty, I'd rather swim back to Gaul."

Lancelot sighed but obediently went to summon the others. He was determined to face Kaelar again and prove who was stronger.

Once the lords had assembled, Ector stood up and declared, "I know some of you have been in contact with the Romans, hoping to gain their support to become the next King of Camelot."

Ector's blunt approach, in true Celtic fashion, did not elicit shame. Instead, several lords even nodded openly, unfazed by having their plans exposed.

One lord spoke up, "The so-called Sword in the Stone is just a temporary measure. Every noble here has tried, and none of us can draw that sword."

"Camelot cannot remain without a king. What if the Wicked King, Vortigern, seizes the chance to attack?"

"Heh." Ector sneered. "The fact that none of you could draw the Sword in the Stone only proves one thing—you are not the true king."

"The King and the Great Mage's prophecy is clear: only the one who draws the Sword in the Stone shall be king."

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