Monsters That Attacked The Capital

“I’m back.”

“Oh, Hervé—long time no see. Huh? Why are Morgan and the others here too?”

Arthur had Miranda wait outside, then returned with Rod to the place Hervé’s group was staying. When Arthur opened the door, he found Hervé and Morgan apparently in the middle of a discussion.

“You really did persuade Rod-sama…”

“Arthur, you really are something… I settled things on my end using the Fruit of Plenty as well. With this, we can avoid a battle.”

“Ah… yeah…”

For some reason, Hervé looked genuinely stunned, while Morgan stared over with a smug, triumphant expression. Not really understanding what was going on, Arthur simply nodded along.

At that, Rod—wearing an irritated expression—pulled out the rosary.

“Hmph. I don’t like that everything went exactly as you planned… but with this in hand, I have no further business in a place like this.”

“Don’t tell me that is the so-called Relic of the Holy King? What on earth do you need that for…?”

“Do you think I have any obligation to tell you?”

As if to say he had no intention of answering Morgan’s question, Rod glared, then put it away in his bag and issued an order to Hervé.

“As compensation for the Golden Wheat, we have received the Fruit of Plenty and the Relic of the Holy King. Now the remaining problem is persuading Carmine, since we’ve already dispatched knights under his command. Any good ideas? Worst case, we can make him accept it with a reward…”

“Well… Baron Carmine has been looking for an excuse to fight the Desert People ever since the incident that stole the light from his son’s eyes. Money may not solve it. In the worst case, he may claim the order never reached him and send knights into the desert all at once…”

“We used his thirst for revenge, and now it’s become a nuisance.”

Carmine had long resented the fact that his son lost his dominant eye in a conflict with the Desert People, closing off his future as a knight.

Ever since the battle several years ago, the country had ordered him not to fight the Desert People, so his frustration must have built up severely.

“Huh? Brother Rod is going to help too?”

When Arthur blurted out in surprise, Rod shot him an annoyed glare.

“Are you mocking me? I promised that if you handed over the Relic of the Holy King, I would stop attacking the Desert People!! A prince does not break his word!!”

“Hehe, Brother Rod really is cool.”

“I’ve told you to call me Rod-sama, haven’t I?”

Rod fell back into their usual routine, and Arthur laughed happily. Watching them, Morgan murmured with a look like she was seeing something strange.

“Somehow, Arthur and Rod really are close, aren’t they…”

And then—just as the topic shifted to how to persuade Carmine—the door was knocked on violently, and the one who burst in was Bors.

“This is bad, Hervé-sama!! A magical dispatch just came in—one of the Five Great Calamity Beasts has appeared in the capital!”

“Wha—?”

Whose voice was that? No one could hide their shock at those words.

This was Mordred’s room in Britannia. At a plain desk, there was a shadow hunched over an open notebook, letting out a groan.

“Ah, as I thought… We used a huge amount of magic on the Golden Wheat, so the revival is faster than the first or second time… I just hope reinforcements make it in time.”

It was Mordred. Staring at the notebook, he let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m coming in.”

Without even knocking, Agravain entered. It wasn’t unusual for the faction leader to come to this room, but from his expression, Mordred felt a gloomy sense of ‘so it’s finally here.’

“At this rate, Britannia will be finished. We will start a revolution. You will become the banner that leads it.”

“Even in this situation, you don’t change, do you…”

“What?”

Though it should have been a shocking proposal, Mordred looked more exasperated than anything, and Agravain frowned.

In response, Mordred spoke in a bored tone.

“That’s the third time you’ve said that.”

“What are you talking about? That can’t be…”

“The first time, I refused. Arthur became king, and we ended when the Five Great Calamity Beasts destroyed everything. The second time, I started a revolution, executed Arthur and Rod, and banned magic—but the Five Great Calamity Beasts still revived. So I gave up on saving Britannia by my own power. I entrusted it to Arthur, and things were finally moving forward…”

“You’re talking nonsense. Have you lost your mind, Mordred?!”

As Agravain stepped back as if looking at a madman, Mordred rang a bell. The door flew open roughly, and a blond knight appeared.

“Gawain. Agravain intended to start a revolution and throw Britannia into chaos. Seize him.”

“Y-yes, understood.”

“Why is he here?! Do you have any idea how much I struggled to make you king—ghk!”

Gawain knocked out the resisting Agravain.

“There should be evidence of the revolution at his villa. Dispatch knights and search it.”

“Y-yes, understood. But why did you suddenly decide to make Arthur-sama king?”

“Hm? Right—since you cooperated with me, I should explain. That’s only fair.”

Yes—Mordred himself had reported to Gawain, of Arthur’s faction, that Agravain was planning a revolution. Even though capturing Agravain, Mordred’s own guardian, would practically annihilate Mordred’s faction.

“Because Arthur… learned to understand people’s hearts, I guess.”

“I see… people’s hearts…”

Feeling unconvinced, Gawain left. Mordred felt guilty inside, but he recalled Arthur happily dancing with Morgan… and Arthur studying with commoners with an exasperated look—and smiled.

Arthur was originally more capable than someone like him, Mordred thought.

Arthur’s misfortune was that his healing ability was too exceptional. Because of that, he was used by shallow people who only sought power, pampered, and deprived of chances to interact with all kinds of others.

Even when Mordred tried to approach him in this life, Arthur likely remembered his past life because Mordred had given him the Good Deed Notebook—so Arthur stayed wary, and Mordred couldn’t even get close.

“Well, what’s done is done. I also gave Brother Rod information about the holy sword, so if she arrives, maybe we can buy time?”

As Mordred relaxed at the sight of text appearing in the notebook exactly as predicted, he heard a steady, rhythmic knock.

“Come in.”

“…I was called here in Arthur’s name. What is the meaning of this?”

Standing in the open doorway was a beautiful blond elf. Her name was Elaine—the saintess of Glastonbury.

“It’s been since the Founding Festival, Elaine-sama. I’m glad you seem well.”

“I’m asking why you summoned me using Arthur’s name, Third Prince!!”

She glared with heavy suspicion and raised a prepared mace with practiced ease. As Mordred felt her refined image from the three lifetimes crumbling away, he hurriedly lifted both hands to show he wasn’t an enemy.

“First, I apologize for deceiving you. But an unimaginable crisis is coming to Britannia, and to overcome it, we need your power. That is why I summoned you under my brother’s name.”

“A crisis in Britannia…? No, a crisis?”

Elaine hastily corrected her tone, and Mordred thought with a wry smile.

To be honest, even though he had imitated Arthur’s handwriting and sent the letter, Elaine’s arrival was far faster than he expected. Still, Mordred continued.

“Yes. Elaine-sama, do you know about the monster sleeping beneath this land?”

“Yes. I’ve heard that the Holy King defeated the Five Great Calamity Beasts and built Britannia upon this land…”

“As expected of an elf. Even in Britannia, only those deeply versed in history would know that…”

“Spare me your pointless flattery. How does that ‘Five Great Calamity Beasts’ relate to summoning me… This magical power… don’t tell me…”

Elaine cried out as if she had sensed something, and Mordred nodded.

“Even the Holy King could only seal it here—the most detested, the worst of the Five Great Calamity Beasts, the beast called the End-of-the-World Cat (Cath Palug), is about to revive.”

“If something like that appears, even a great power like Britannia…”

“Yes. We’ll be wiped out easily—unless someone like the Holy King takes up the holy sword and stands against it…”

Yes—in the first life, Britannia, with Arthur as a puppet king, was destroyed with ease.

And in the second life, after Mordred’s revolution, he could not draw the holy sword—no, he could draw it, but could not bring out its power—and they were destroyed all the same.

“Where is Arthur-sama? If he were here…”

“By now, he should be searching for the holy sword.”

Remembering the words clearly written in the notebook within his chest, Mordred bowed his head to Elaine.

“Until my brother returns, I intend to evacuate the people of Britannia. But if it’s only the Third Prince speaking, neither commoners nor nobles will obey. That is why I need to borrow your fame and your strength.”

“…Understood. I can’t just stand by while civilians are harmed. And Arthur-sama would be saddened, too…”

“Of course, I’m not asking for free. I’ll use what little authority I have to do everything I can to help you be joined with Brother Arthur.”

“W-what… It’s not like I feel anything for him…”

Even though this was hardly the time for it, Elaine’s unapproachable air from earlier vanished as her cheeks flushed red. Mordred thought she looked cute.