[You begin to fulfill your promise.]
[The first thing you do is secretly spread highly targeted rumors throughout Camelot.]
[At the core of these rumors is skepticism toward Arthur pulling the sword from the stone.]
[After all, she appears so small and delicate, hardly resembling someone capable of such a feat.]
"Father, this is the general state of public opinion in the city."
Gawain reported the intelligence he had gathered to Rei.
"Lately, many similar statements have been circulating."
"Most of them cast doubt on Arthur pulling the sword—people believe something is off about this royal selection."
Rei felt a surge of satisfaction deep inside, but he maintained his composed exterior.
"Then, my son, what do you think of these statements?"
Gawain hesitated for a moment, then spoke respectfully:
"Father, since you personally acknowledged Arthur's success that day, I have no complaints."
"But—"
"But what?" Rei studied the knight before him. "Gawain, if there's something you wish to say, speak freely. It's just the two of us here—no one else will know."
"Father…"
Gawain's voice carried a trace of conflict.
"Unlike the others, I don't think Arthur pulling the sword is absurd."
"In fact, I could sense that while we were attempting to claim the sword—it was choosing us as well."
"Gawain."
Rei observed his son, who had just spoken his heart.
"So, despite your countless attempts, you failed to obtain the sword—and yet, you hold no resentment?"
"I won't say I have no complaints. But rather than resentment, I believe there are more important things I should focus on."
"..."
Rei patted Gawain's shoulder.
"Gawain, you possess the noble qualities of a knight."
"But step aside for now—I still have things to attend to."
"Yes, Father."
[You watch Gawain leave.]
[You realize that while your rumors have taken effect, they are not as flawless as you had hoped.]
[You decide to gauge how your other children perceive the current situation.]
[First, you summon Gaheris.]
Gaheris is Gawain's younger brother, second among the siblings.
"Gaheris."
"Father."
"Gaheris, what do you make of the rumors spreading in the city?" Rei got straight to the point.
"..."
Gaheris remained silent for a while before answering.
"Father, rather than dwelling on the present, I would rather judge right and wrong based on the events to come."
"To uphold what is right and correct what is wrong—that is the lesson you taught us."
[You realize that Gaheris shares a similar perspective with Gawain.]
[However, unlike Gawain, he seems to have developed his own standard for judgment.]
[You dismiss him.]
[Next, you summon Agravain.]
"Father."
"Agravain, you've been quiet on this matter."
"But this time, I wish to hear your opinion on the city's rumors."
"They are meaningless."
Agravain answered without hesitation.
"And why do you think that?"
"Tell me, Agravain."
"Because that sword was destined for only one person."
Agravain looked at his own hand as if recalling something.
"Father, the moment I touched it, I understood that truth."
Like Gawain, Agravain had attempted to pull the sword.
But his attempt had lasted barely longer than a single breath.
"So, Agravain, do you believe this process was fair?"
"Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't. But as long as it ensures Britain's future, I have no objections."
[You realize Agravain is far more mature than you expected.]
[Unlike Gawain, who fully accepts the outcome, or Gareth, who remains neutral, Agravain is focused on Britain's long-term survival.]
[You dismiss him.]
[Finally, you summon Gareth—the youngest sister.]
"Father!"
Gareth bounced toward Rei.
"You spoke with all my brothers first, and now you finally remembered me?"
The youngest always received the most affection.
Gareth's lively nature made Rei chuckle as he ruffled her hair.
"Yes, it's finally your turn."
"Tell me, what do you think about the rumors in the city?"
"Uhh—"
Gareth tilted her head, squinting her eyes, pressing a finger to her chin, before finally blurting out:
"We should stand for Camelot—"
"Stop."
Rei interrupted her mid-sentence.
"Gareth, that's not what you really want to say, is it?"
"Eh?!"
Gareth's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Father, how did you know?"
"Because that's not how you normally talk." Rei gazed at his youngest daughter.
"Who taught you to say that?"
"I can't say!" Gareth waved her hands frantically. "Otherwise, Gawain will scold me!"
"So it was Gawain."
"Eh—?!" Gareth was stunned once again. "But I didn't even say anything, how did you know?"
"That doesn't matter. Why did he tell you to say this?" Rei pressed further.
"Because Gawain said…" Gareth mumbled under her breath.
"If I told you what I really think, you'd definitely scold me."
Hearing this, Rei became intrigued.
"Then, Gareth, what was it you originally wanted to say?"
"Uh…"
"Go on, I won't be mad."
"It's just that—" Gareth fidgeted with her fingers.
"Father, isn't there an old saying? 'Even the most barren field, if enough seeds are sown, will eventually yield a bountiful harvest'?"
"So, I think the root of this issue lies with you and Mother."
"You see, both of you are exceptional individuals, and in truth, aside from me, Gawain and the others are all remarkable as well."
"So, I was thinking—"
Gareth looked up at Rei, her eyes sparkling.
"If I had more little brothers and sisters, surely one of them would be able to pull the sword from the stone!"
"That way, we wouldn't have to worry about this problem at all!"
There was no denying it—Gawain had been absolutely right.
Gareth's reasoning was utterly ridiculous.
Anyone hearing it would wonder if something was fundamentally wrong with her way of thinking.
However, since Rei had promised not to get mad, he had to keep his word.
"Gareth, I understand what you mean. And you do have a certain logic to your thinking."
"Whew~" Gareth let out a sigh of relief.
"See? Gawain was worried for nothing! How could Father get angry over something like this?!"
[Gareth left, full of energy.]
[Alone, you reflected on all the conversations you had just had.]
[You realized that rumors were not an all-powerful tool.]
[Everyone interprets rumors differently, and they may not always lead in the same direction—your children were proof of that.]
[You decide to adopt more aggressive and underhanded methods.]
[You must make people clearly see that Arthur's emergence may not be a good thing.]
Inside the Magical Workshop
"Lady Morgan, is it possible to do what I've suggested?"
"Of course."
Morgan answered without hesitation.
"If it's just temporarily rendering those magical seeds ineffective, it's no trouble for me at all."
"But—"
Morgan gazed at Rei, a trace of concern flickering in her blue eyes.
"You do realize what this means for the common people, don't you?"
"Yes, I do."
Rei's determined gaze betrayed a fleeting moment of regret—but only for an instant.
"That's why no one must ever suspect you, Lady Morgan."
"I will bear all the blame alone."
"..."
Morgan stepped closer, rising slightly onto her toes to press a soft kiss against Rei's weathered cheek.
"Rei, you truly are my finest piece."
"As it should be, Lady Morgan."
[You learned from Morgan how to halt the magical seeds.]
[Your innate talent has changed: Hidden Potential → Devotion to Depravity: Rather than using your talents for noble causes, you find that sacrificing your conscience for Morgan fuels your abilities even more.]
[Magical Enhancement has activated: Building upon Morgan's foundation, you optimize the effect, accelerating the disruption at an astonishing pace.]
[You know full well how despicable you have become.]
[But this is the only way to fight against this fraudulent kingmaking.]
[The magical seeds begin to wither.]
[The effects of the fading Age of Gods spread rapidly across the fields outside Camelot.]
[The wheat fields, once golden, now sprout an unnatural black blight.]
[This is an irreversible process, no matter how much water is poured upon the land.]
[You further manipulate the rumors in Camelot, blending them seamlessly with reality.]
[Before long, the ignorant masses begin linking this phenomenon to Arthur pulling the sword.]
[This is precisely the outcome you desired.]
xx
"It must be because the wrong person pulled the sword!"
"Exactly! This has never happened before! Our wheat has always been of the highest quality!"
"Something's wrong! There has to be something wrong!"
Once something becomes a natural part of life, stripping it away completely is unbearable.
No matter who they are, they will never accept such a reality.
[You further escalate the chaos.]
[More and more citizens come to you, once the ever-diligent protector of Camelot.]
[You feign sympathy, listening to their grievances, while secretly steering events toward a more extreme outcome.]
[Outwardly, you play the role of the kindhearted man—but in truth, you are the greatest villain.]
[At last, the moment you've been waiting for arrives.]
[Discontented knights begin circulating the idea of rejecting this so-called king.]
[They refuse to acknowledge someone who has brought disaster upon Camelot.]
[You realize this is the perfect opportunity.]
[You and Arthur cross paths once more.]
The Streets of Camelot
Rei and Arthur walked side by side through the streets, appearing almost close.
Resentful gazes flickered from the windows of nearby houses, but they were all fixed solely on Arthur.
Rei was well aware of everything, but he still feigned ignorance.
"Arthur, it seems like everyone is staring at you."
"I know, Sir Rei."
Arthur's eyes swept over the surroundings, but not a trace of sorrow could be found in her green gaze.
"They believe that because I pulled the sword, the wheat fields have begun to rot. That's why they look at me this way."
Rei could taste the sweet satisfaction of his success.
But he also knew that now was not the time for gloating.
"Then, Arthur, this must be difficult for you, isn't it?"
"No."
Arthur turned her head to look at the much taller man beside her.
She smiled.
It was the smile of a girl her age—youthful and bright.
"Sir Rei, the truth is, I don't feel troubled at all."
"Before I drew this sword, I heard a voice from within it. It told me that I would gain much—but also lose much."
"Therefore—"
Arthur gazed at Rei, a deep sincerity in her green eyes.
"Since I now hold what I have gained in my hands—"
"I should also accept what I must lose."
"Besides, I don't believe this is a disaster I brought upon them."
"So I won't be sad because of it."
Arthur—no, Artoria—spoke with complete honesty.
This was the vow she made when she grasped this sword.
And now, she was revealing it entirely to Rei.
However—
Artoria didn't realize one thing.
The more she openly spoke about the deep connection she shared with this sword, the more Rei felt a piercing pain in his chest.
Hard work and sacrifice meant nothing in the face of a predetermined deception.
What a cruel joke.
Rei's nails dug into his palms, his face darkening with hatred.
"Sir Rei, what's wrong?"
Noticing Rei's expression, Arthur reached out and grabbed his hand, concern written all over her face.
"Is it because you're walking with me and sharing in their scorn? Does that make you uncomfortable?"
"If that's the case, I'm really sorry!"
The irony was real.
But Arthur's concern was also sincere.
Rei felt conflicted. He could only change the subject.
"Arthur, that's not the case."
"I was just wondering how you plan to resolve all of this—you can't simply ignore it, can you?"
"Oh, that?"
Arthur let out a breath of relief.
"Then, Sir Rei, you can rest easy."
"I already have a solution."
"The problem with the wheat fields—Merlin has promised to help me fix it."
"As for the knights—"
Her gaze left Rei's, turning cold in an instant.
Under the weight of countless stares, she stepped up onto the stone platform where the sword had once rested.
Raising the blade high, she pointed it toward the clear blue sky above.
"The issue with the knights shall be settled in the way of knights."
"If any of you have a problem with me—"
"Then challenge me with your blades."