"Hey, you two are here!"
Alaric turned to look at the newcomer and couldn't help but smile even wider. It was Mordred, who had arrived at Camelot early in the morning.
Unlike the previous day, Mordred was dressed far more casually. Gone was the heavy armor, replaced by light garments that only covered essential areas, leaving much of her skin exposed. However, Mordred seemed completely unconcerned, even enjoying the freedom.
"Well, well, Mordred, being so diligent today, huh?"
Alaric waved at her, whose cheerful personality made it hard for anyone to dislike her. Spending time together had naturally turned them into friends.
"Hey, what's with your sword? Father's gift looks like it's changed color," Mordred said with a grin, noticing the dark blade hanging at Alaric's waist.
Alaric shrugged.
"I'm not entirely sure myself. The exact reason is probably something only the King could explain."
Seeing Alaric's lack of an answer, Mordred didn't press the matter and turned to Lancelot instead.
"So, Sir Lancelot, how many people did you bring back this time?"
"Only three," Lancelot replied, motioning to his knights to bring the three chosen individuals forward.
"There's a new rebel faction rallying refugees, and I've heard rumors of a merchant group helping refugees evade our patrols."
The three individuals were young, their faces calm and composed, as if they were well aware that their current situation wouldn't be worse than wandering in the wilderness.
Mordred, however, burst into laughter, flashing her tiger-like fangs.
"Wow, only three? That's it? How are you planning to face Father like this?"
Lancelot ignored the taunt and turned back to Alaric.
"Did you get the information about the Sun King through direct contact?"
From the detailed intelligence Alaric had shared, Lancelot surmised it must have come from a direct encounter with the Sun King himself. Hearing this, Mordred perked up, clearly intrigued.
Alaric didn't hide the truth and replied candidly, "Indeed. I had an audience with the Sun King, Ozymandias, at his temple. That's how I learned all of this."
He added with a smile, "And I owe it to your training, Sir Lancelot. Without those three days of preparation, I wouldn't have been able to reach the temple or secure an audience with the Sun King so easily."
"Not to mention, you got your hands on the Holy Grail! You're full of surprises!"
Mordred clapped Alaric on the shoulder, laughing.
Lancelot raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? You obtained the Holy Grail as well?"
If it had been any other item, Lancelot wouldn't have been so surprised. But hearing it was the Holy Grail—a relic tied to so many legends—caught him off guard. Memories of his son Galahad, the knight who had once obtained and returned the Grail, flooded his mind. Moreover, Lancelot knew from the knowledge imparted by the Lion King that the Holy Grail held immense importance in the singularity.
Mordred chimed in with a mischievous grin, "That's right! This guy got it straight from the Sun King himself!"
This revelation made Lancelot even more astonished.
"Sir Alaric, is this true?"
"Yes," Alaric nodded.
"The Holy Grail was given to me by the Sun King. As for the details, it's hard to explain. Let's just say it was as surprising for me as it is for you."
Before they could continue, a new voice joined the conversation, seamlessly blending into the discussion.
"Oh? Sir Lancelot, Mordred, and Sir Alaric, what are you all chatting about?"
Turning around, Alaric saw a red-haired knight on horseback, eyes closed, radiating a melancholic aura. It was none other than Tristan, whom they hadn't seen for some time.
"Hey, it's Sir Tristan! A few days away, and you've returned empty-handed?"
Mordred teased, glancing at the lack of followers behind Tristan. Unlike Lancelot, Tristan had neither knights accompanying him nor refugees in tow.
Tristan dismounted gracefully, his tall frame accentuated by his light armor, exuding elegance. Ignoring Mordred's jabs, he focused on Alaric.
"Sir Alaric, you seem to have changed quite a bit. It looks like Sir Lancelot's guidance has been very effective."
Alaric smiled politely.
"Thank you, Sir Tristan. Were you out eliminating the remnants of the Crusaders?"
Tristan nodded, his expression as sorrowful as ever.
"Indeed. I've been tasked with eradicating the rebel forces scattered outside. However, their movements have become increasingly elusive, leading to frequent failures. Ah, such a sorrowful task."
Hearing this, Alaric's smile grew wider. Before Mordred could interject, he said, "Well then, Sir Tristan, your troubles may soon be over. I've acquired intelligence on the Crusader remnants during my visit to the Sun King's domain. Our next mission is a full-scale extermination operation!"
"Oh? So the urgent message from Sir Agravain was about this?"
Tristan raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Looks like Sir Agravain didn't explain the details to you. I wonder how he's doing now," Alaric mused aloud, curious about the results of Agravain's interrogation of Alaika. While confident in Agravain's ability to extract information, Alaric couldn't predict how much Aaika might reveal, given her sheltered upbringing in the workshop.
Still, whatever lay ahead, it was clear the next chapter of their mission was about to unfold.