As soon as Alaric spoke, the other three Knights of the Round Table grew curious.
"What's Agravain up to?"
Mordred asked.
Before leaving, Mordred had seen Agravain idling about, but now he seemed busier than ever.
"Sir Agravain has been questioning the Crusader magus I brought back, preparing for the campaign against Richard the Lionheart. By now, he's likely finished," Alaric remarked casually, glancing at the slowly opening gates of Camelot in the distance.
"Oh? How did you come across this Crusader magus, Sir Alaric?"
Lancelot asked, his voice filled with both surprise and curiosity.
Not just Lancelot, but Tristan too showed astonishment. Over the past few days of eradicating remnants of the Crusaders, Tristan had encountered countless maddened knights but no magus. Yet here was Alaruc, returning with a Crusader magus, a feat that left Tristan deeply intrigued.
"Right? Where did you even catch her?"
Mordred suddenly exclaimed, staring at Alaric in surprise. It only then occurred to Mordred that, during the previous day's briefing to the Lion King, Alaric hadn't explained where Alaika II came from.
"Did I not mention it?"
Alaric began.
"The Crusader remnants seem to have the ability to track the Holy Grail. After I obtained the Grail, they pursued me relentlessly. I finally managed to capture this magus, Alaika. Through her, I gathered crucial intelligence on the Crusader remnants."
As the gates fully opened, Alaric, Lancelot, and the others moved toward the towering structure at the city's center.
"Tracking you? Doesn't that mean Richard the Lionheart already knows your movements? If that's the case, starting the campaign will expose us completely," Mordred noted sharply, immediately picking up on the critical flaw.
In war, concealing one's movements is key. If Alaric's whereabouts were known, the Round Table knights would be at a disadvantage. Mordred wasn't afraid of the Lionheart but worried it would ruin their chance for a decisive blow against the Crusaders.
"Mordred raises a valid concern," Lancelot agreed.
"If you leave the Holy City with the Grail, Sir Alaric, Richard the Lionheart is bound to notice. At that point, we lose the element of surprise, and your intelligence might lose much of its value."
As a seasoned knight, Lancelot deeply understood the importance of gaining the upper hand before a battle. A surprise assault on the Crusader remnants under the Lionheart was their sole chance to obliterate them. If their plans leaked, allowing the Lionheart to escape, regaining intelligence for a second opportunity would be far more challenging.
"If Sir Alaric's intelligence were to lead to failure in our campaign, it would be a most sorrowful outcome," Tristan lamented, his tone dripping with melancholic sympathy as though preemptively mourning.
Alaric chuckled lightly at their remarks.
"That's exactly why we need to discuss this matter, isn't it?"
Their conversation was interrupted as the long staircase leading to the Tower of the End appeared before them, bathed in radiant sunlight. It was as though the sun itself hovered close. Standing high above them on the steps, the Sun Knight Gawain gazed down, his carefree laughter echoing.
"Looks like I'm not late."
"Tch! Gawain, why do you always act like the big brother here? Get lost, you idiot!"
Mordred snapped, visibly annoyed.
"Did you just arrive, Sir Gawain?"
Alaric asked as he stepped beside him.
Gawain glanced briefly at Lancelot below and nodded slightly.
"Indeed, I've just arrived. Sir Lancelot, what are your thoughts on this campaign?"
"Everything is for the sake of our loyalty to the Lion King," Lancelot replied firmly, his presence as imposing as Gawain's. With that, Gawain turned and began ascending the endless stairs toward the Tower of the End.
Minutes later, they entered the Great Hall. Gawain scanned the chamber but found no trace of the Lion King—only Agravain stood before them, his back turned.
"Where is the King?"
Gawain asked.
"The King has yet to awaken. I will preside over this meeting and relay everything to the King afterward," Agravain replied as he turned to face the group.
Alaric scanned the hall but saw no sign of Alaika, the magus Agravain had taken away.
"How unfortunate that we can't see the King even now," Gawain sighed with evident regret.
"Naturally," Agravain replied without missing a beat.
"Something as minor as this campaign against Richard the Lionheart is unworthy of troubling the King. Or are you suggesting otherwise, Sir Gawain?"
"Of course not," Gawain replied calmly, refuting Agravain's pointed remark.
"Wow, Gawain, I didn't know you were such a coward," Mordred mocked, earning a disapproving glance from Tristan.
"If we required the King's intervention for every small matter, wouldn't that make us Knights of the Round Table appear utterly incompetent?" Tristan remarked wistfully.
"If we can't prove our worth to the King, it would be such a tragic failure."
"Since the King isn't here, let's get to the main agenda, Sir Agravain," Alaric interjected, seeing that Lancelot had no intention of speaking up.
Agravain's gaze briefly fell on the sword at Alaric's waist—the Holy Sword personally gifted by the Lion King, still without a scabbard to house its blade. Without further delay, Agravain gestured dramatically.
With a resounding rumble, a long table rose from the ground. Miniature mountains and rolling clouds were etched into its surface.
"Let's begin."
Here, the reborn Round Table converged with its remnants. Their sole objective was clear: the campaign against the rebel Richard the Lionheart.
"Is this a map of the mountains?"
Alaric observed, immediately recognizing its resemblance to the unnamed ranges he had traversed to meet King Hassan. Was this terrain extracted from Alaika's testimony?
As Gawain and the others studied the map, Mordred voiced her confusion.
"Agravain! Stop being cryptic. What's this supposed to be?"
"This is a hypothetical terrain map," Agravain replied coolly.
"The area's geography is too complex to map fully. This model was constructed from the Crusader magus's descriptions to simulate the general layout."
"What's the point of that? Hypothetical maps are useless!"
Mordred exclaimed incredulously.
Agravain remained unmoved, his tone icy.
"Mordred, if you insist on spouting nonsense, leave Camelot and return to your lands. The sacred ground of the King is not a place for your insolence."