"..."
After hearing Merlin's prophecy, both fell silent. Before Arthur could speak, Kaelar laughed. "That sly old fox bolted quick enough. She probably knew she'd get clobbered if she lingered."
"Kaelar, do you believe in Merlin's prophecy?" Arthur asked, voicing her doubts. "Will you still travel with me?"
"Of course," Kaelar replied calmly. "My decision is final. Merlin just wants to see us squirm."
"Prophecies? Just relics of the past. Fate is an excuse for the weak, fortune a modesty of the strong. I am here, and I will shape destiny."
"Kaelar, I'm so grateful." Arthur's face bloomed into a radiant smile. "As long as you're with me, I'm not afraid of anything."
"Kaelar, will you stand beside me?"
"Yes. Until death."
The two rode out on steeds from the Age of Gods, Arthur astride the nearly sentient mount, Don Stallion.
The beast was clever, as if one step away from gaining true intelligence. Nearly a rival to the famed Chitu, the king of horses, a creature so mighty it wielded weapons alongside its master.
Kaelar's mount, while also formidable, was no match for Don Stallion. Not that it mattered to him; it was just a horse, after all. What use was a legendary mount if it couldn't act as a Noble Phantasm on its own?
Britannia's lands weren't vast; compared to Western Rome, it was small. Tiberius had been racing for ten days and still hadn't reached Rome, but Arthur and Kaelar, taking their time, only needed three days to arrive at the frontlines of the rebellion.
By this point, the battle was almost over. The Round Table Knights had gathered in force, pushing the rebel army to the brink of annihilation.
In this confrontation, Arthur had mustered all the capital's forces, dispatching every unit, including the Gospel Knights from the Angles. The nobles were either captured or killed, and their ancestral lands were seized by the Kingdom of Britannia.
In a real-world setting, these sweeping policies, a thousand years ahead of their time, would have inevitably led to the kingdom's downfall, followed by widespread chaos. But this was the Moonlit World, where the strength of one could rival armies. Here, the absolute might of a hero was enough to silence all dissent.
"Knights of the Round Table, assemble!"
At Arthur's call, the knights present gathered at her side.
In addition to the familiar faces, several new members had joined the Round Table in recent years. Gawain's brother and sister—Morgan's best "children"—Gaheris and Gareth, had joined. Also present were Tristan, Bedivere, and the lance-wielding Percival.
All powerful knights and capable leaders, they hailed from noble bloodlines.
In the tent, which was set around a large round table, Kaelar sat beside Arthur and addressed Lancelot and Gawain. "What's the situation?"
Gawain responded, "It's looking good. We've promised that those who lay down their arms will be pardoned, which has shaken the rebels' morale."
Initially, the rebellion seemed unstoppable. United, the nobles had pooled substantial resources and wealth, hiring troops to seize nearly half of Britannia.
With Rome's support and armaments, the rebellion had raged fiercely.
But under the continuous blows of Arthur and the Round Table, the rebellion was on its last legs. Only one remaining county resisted, and once it fell, Britannia would be reborn.
Kaelar's arrival coincided with the final stage, so he refrained from entering the battle personally. Instead, he presented Kaelar's Code to the knights. "Outlaw any form of vigilante justice. All actions will follow the law, and even if an enemy soldier killed your kin, private revenge will not be tolerated."
"We honor your code, Lord Kaelar," the knights replied in unison.
Though the law seemed cold, it was necessary. If the code could be broken at will, letting heroes decide the fates of criminals, then why have a code at all? Why not return to rule by force?
While Kaelar despised needless killing, his laws included harsh punishments. Though no crime was punishable by death directly, many of the penalties were almost as severe.
Merciful sentences maintained basic human rights, even for murderers, while heavy penalties protected the majority from harm, acting as a deterrent.
For example, in cases of kidnapping or murder, the law allowed the victim's family to exact their own form of justice. If the victim's family forgave the offender, only then could they enter a period of rehabilitation.
In cases of mass murder, where no family remained, the accused would face a public trial. If the townsfolk accepted the offender's reform, only then could they enter prison.
Kaelar believed his code was exceptionally balanced, combining mercy and justice. Whether driven by vengeance or compassion, the law backed the people.
And of course, the law covered more than criminal cases.
The knights of the Round Table had memorized the code by heart. Gawain nodded. "Lord Kaelar, we will punish only the instigators. The remaining offenders will be sentenced to hard labor in Dolryn Prison. The families of the guilty will be stripped of their titles and must earn their food through work."
Kaelar considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Let's proceed with that."
The final battle ended in less than a day. The nobles' last fortress was breached, and the fearless Britannian soldiers stormed in, shouting, "Surrender or die!" at the rebel army.
Any rebel who dared stand, weapon in hand, was cut down mercilessly.
This was war—the most merciless and painful of human conflicts.
But war was inevitable. Even in its horror, it was part of humanity. To change mankind's nature, Kaelar first had to understand and root out the deepest evils of humanity and find a way to remove them.
While the fighting was swift, the cleanup was laborious. Ten days later, Kaelar still hadn't settled everyone.
Arthur, however, appeared relieved. "Kaelar, it's done. Nothing happened, just as I said."
She pouted slightly, huffing in mock frustration. "That Merlin and her doom-saying! 'Kings must stand alone, and Kaelar will oppose you.' Ridiculous!"
"Oh, you still remember?" Kaelar asked with a raised brow. "I thought you'd forgotten."
"Don't believe that nonsense. I never gave it a second thought. Merlin's prophecies are never accurate!" Kaelar scoffed. He had traveled through time, after all. Who could believe in fate with that knowledge?
"Right! No need to give it another thought!" Arthur raised her eyebrows, nodding emphatically. "I didn't either; it just popped into my head is all."
Just then, a commotion rose outside, voices shouting, "Cut her hand off!" Kaelar frowned. "Did I not make myself clear? Private punishments are forbidden."
Kaelar stood, and Arthur, frowning, said, "Kaelar, let's see what's happening."
They stepped outside to find a young girl, pale and fearful but tearless, caught stealing food and money from Britannian soldiers. According to Kaelar's code, the victim could decide whether to pardon the crime.
Kaelar gazed at the girl, no more than five years old, younger than Arthur had been when she came to Maple Ridge.
From her appearance, she was clearly of noble birth, likely orphaned, and left to fend for herself, forced to steal food to survive.
Under Britannian law, a thief must repay double the value of what was taken. Only then would they be released. If unable to pay, the victim could demand further punishment or imprisonment, with amputation and five years of labor as the maximum penalty.
Kaelar's intent was clear—deter crime by instilling fear. A law without penalties would go ignored.
"Lord Kaelar, we strictly followed your code." The soldier drew his blade and, looking down at the tiny girl, said, "She has no means of repayment. I have the right to take her hand."
"..."
Kaelar fell silent. This was his law. If he refused to follow it, then his code would be a joke.
Arthur approached, and the soldiers knelt at her feet. She listened to the explanation and nodded. "Kaelar, let's go. The soldier has done nothing wrong. This will help make your code known and respected."
Kaelar turned to Arthur, for the first time seeing a glint of cold unfamiliarity in her familiar features. Quietly, he asked, "So, Arthur, you agree? You think upholding the code justifies severing this girl's hand?"
This…was the icy face of the king?
Kaelar's gaze moved from her face, which felt strangely alien now, to Excalibur at her side.
He knew Arthur would never fall so quickly.
"Is it because of this sword?" he murmured. "So, this is what Merlin meant by destiny. The moment Arthur wielded this sword, she was bound to become a king without compassion?"
Like the Hindu throne of Indra, an office that no wise god could hold without eventually becoming arrogant and foolish, whoever took it soon fell from grace.
With Excalibur in hand, Arthur's mind was gradually twisting, her perspective shifting.
"Why are you looking at me like that, Kaelar?" Arthur asked, hurt by the pained look in his eyes. "Would you stand against me for a stranger?"
"Kaelar, are you opposing me?"
Kaelar closed his eyes and said quietly, "In my eyes, there is no king here, just a stubborn child."
Kaelar looked at the soldier, who seemed shaken by the king's displeasure, and spoke kindly, "Soldier, you followed the law exactly. You did nothing wrong."
Then he turned to the little girl and continued, "This is my fault for not arranging provisions for everyone. She was likely starving and had no choice but to steal to survive. For that, I do not blame her."
Then, Kaelar extended his arm. "Soldier, cut off my hand. I will take her place."
"Britannian law must be upheld, but compassion is also part of the law. As steward of Britannia, let me take her punishment."
At last, Kaelar understood what it meant to be "undone by your own design."
But the law had to be upheld.
"Lord Kaelar…" The soldier dropped to his knees, trembling. "I was wrong. I forgive her. I shouldn't be so relentless over something so minor. But my brother and father were killed by the nobles… I just…"
"Soldier, you cannot change a verdict without reason. My title shouldn't change your choice."
Kaelar placed a steady hand on the soldier's shoulder. "What you did was all that I asked."
"Kaelar, what are you doing?" Arthur clutched his arm tightly. "Magic can restore the hand afterward. There's no need to—"
"Exactly. If my hand can be restored, why not hers?" Kaelar smiled. "Am I more worthy of mercy than she is?"
"Does the law need a child's severed hand to be upheld?"
No weapon could pierce Kaelar, so he guided the soldier's trembling hand to hold his sword and declared, "This blade will cut anything."
Kaelar knew his defenses well enough to know that nothing could pierce his flesh unless he willed it. The only way to sever his hand was with a blade capable of breaking the unbreakable.
And so, he took the soldier's hand in his own and aimed the blade at his wrist.
But before the sword could reach his hand, a blade clanged against it, stopping it short.
The soldier opened his eyes to see the blade pressed against Kaelar's wrist but hadn't so much as scratched him.
There on the ground was a broken sword, its hilt still in Arthur's hand, its protective barrier dissipating into a breeze.
It was Excalibur, the sacred weapon that embodied Britannia's authority, the sword that began all of Arthur's legend.
Only this sword could counter Kaelar's command.
At the last moment, Arthur's love for Kaelar broke the sword's grip on her mind, driving her to shield him with Excalibur. Though she shattered the blade, she saved him.
Kaelar's command had been to cut what blocked the sword. But with Arthur's blade intervening, it no longer had the power to pierce his defenses.
With a crack, the soldier's sword splintered. Kaelar released the soldier, who fell to his knees in tears, lowering his head to Kaelar. "Today, I have learned what it truly means to be a saint."
Through his tears, he said, "You, sir, are Britannia's saint. I, who would harm a child, am unworthy of your compassion."
"You are not unworthy, soldier," Kaelar said kindly. "Your father and brother died for this kingdom. You are heroes' kin."
"But hatred mustn't fester, nor harm the innocent. Remember this day."
Arthur raised her broken sword and declared, "The Britannian law stands firm. By The Sword of Promised Victory, I proclaim this case closed."
Kaelar did not insist on severing his hand—he was no martyr.
As Arthur had said, the law's authority had been proved, and their purpose fulfilled.
The sword, now broken, served as a symbol of the law's enduring authority.
Arthur and Kaelar didn't notice that the entire Round Table had gathered at a distance, silently witnessing their argument and the scene that followed.
"The Mage's prophecy has come true," Agravain murmured, his iron will unyielding. "What of the second prediction?"
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