Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King's Personal Knight

Credits: DammS

"Sor Agravain, where is the King currently?"

Upon entering the main hall, Gawain and Alaric did not see the Lion King.

Agravain, with a somber expression, directed his gaze at Alaric and spoke slowly, "The King has retired for the night. Any matters can be conveyed through me."

"Is that so? It's a shame I won't get to see the King—"

Alaric's tone carried a hint of regret, but this only made Agravain shift his focus toward him.

"Sir Alaric, the King is already aware of your ambush on Sir Tristan in the wilderness and your attempt to rescue the mountain people. A penalty will be decreed tomorrow. However, your disruption of the sacred selection by battling Sir Gawain is an unforgivable offense."

The aftershocks of Alaric and Gawain's clash were palpable, even within Camelot itself.

Agravain immediately recognized the magical energies of Alaric and Gawain. The overwhelming dragon's might had reached far and wide, even dimming the blazing sun.

"—"

As Agravain spoke of the battle at the city gate, Gawain remained silent.

"Sir Gawain, Sir Alaric—"

Tristan's presence naturally drew Alaric's attention. Although he had sent Tristan flying with a punch, the knight didn't appear to have suffered any severe injuries.

"If it were merely an ambush on me, it would be tolerable. However, the holy selection at the city gates was decreed by the King. Your battle with Sir Gawain is a direct affront to the King, and even a knight of the Round Table cannot escape death for such an act.

There is no need to await the King's judgment. Sir Agravain, shall I carry out the execution of Sir Alaric here and now?"

Before Tristan's words finished, he had already drawn his ominous bow,

"What's that supposed to mean? Punishment should amount to house arrest at most—there's no need to take his head!"

Mordred intervened hastily as if genuinely worried that Tristan would decapitate Alaric.

Tristan, however, replied lightly, "That's why I said you don't understand the King's will, Mordred.

Do you intend for the King to personally sever the head of a Round Table knight? That would indeed be a tragic sight, akin to the end of the world."

"For the King's sake, I've had to end the lives of two fellow knights of the Round Table with my own hands. Among them was even a dear friend. Surely you understand, Sir Gawain?"

"Of course. Such decisiveness is very much like you, Sir Tristan. In the presence of the throne, even my blessings will be ineffective.

You may take my head without hesitation. With the sharpness of Failnaught, there won't be any mistake, will there?"

Gawain's expression was solemn, as though he truly wouldn't mind being executed by Tristan.

"Indeed, I'll ensure even the severed edge is clean. No disrespect to the throne will occur."

Watching this cold exchange between Gawain and Tristan, Alaric had no intention of joining in.

As for whether Tristan would truly act to execute him, Alaric wasn't concerned.

He could always escape.

Meanwhile, Mordred appeared increasingly frantic, "Wait, no way! Are you serious? Stop, stop—"

Her concern for Alaric and Gawain's lives seemed genuine, but her subsequent words betrayed her indifference, "Letting Tristan take the heads of Gawain and Alaric? Father definitely wouldn't allow that!

After all, if it were King Arthur, he'd probably say, 'If someone needs to be killed, I'd rather do it myself—and cruelly, at that!'"

Before she could finish, Mordred turned to Alaric with a toothy grin, her expression full of mischief.

"Wait. Lower your bow, Sir Tristan.

Sir Gawain's punishment can be deferred, but I need to know; Sir Alaric, why did you attack two knights of the Round Table in succession?"

Agravain raised his hand to stop Tristan and fixed his calm gaze on Alaric.

"My reasoning is simple. I wanted to fight. I needed to fight. As for disrupting the holy selection, that was unavoidable. I encountered someone interesting."

Alaric replied with a smile, but before he could continue, Gawain placed a hand on his shoulder, pressing him down with immense strength that Alaric couldn't resist.

Alaric tilted his head slightly, meeting Gawain's intense gaze.

But he had no intention of stopping. Instead, he smiled and said, "Don't you want to say it, Sir Gawain? Tell them about the knight we encountered—Sir Bedivere."

"What?"

Alaric's words stunned Agravain, Tristan, and Mordred.

Bedivere—that was a name deeply familiar to them.

Before they could ask further, a soft voice interrupted,

"What is all this commotion, Sir Agravain? Is this a military meeting about advancing into the desert?"

At the sound of the voice, every Round Table knight froze in surprise—except for Alaric, who had sensed the Lion King's approach long ago.

"My King—"

Agravain seemed slightly disheartened.

"To think you'd be troubled to descend to the throne at such a late hour.

With all due respect, my King, your rule has brought prosperity for half a year now. Camelot flourishes; the marketplace buzzes with life; golden wheat bends heavily on the stalks; the canals shimmer under flowing water; and gardens bloom in splendid color.

The skies are clear and cloudless, and even the desolate winds of famine cannot reach this land.

I understand that all of this is thanks to your governance.

My king, Lion King, your rule cannot be marred by even the slightest impurity. I ask that you treat this disturbance as a mere mistake."

Agravain's words were earnest and heartfelt, even touching for the onlookers.

But the Lion King was unmoved, her soft voice cutting through, "No need for flattery, Sir Agravain. I'm here to hear my knights' reports.

State your purpose, my knights. I will trust your words."

"..."

Agravain fell silent, as did Tristan and Mordred, as they all looked toward Gawain and Alaric for their account.

"I beg your pardon, My king.

I faithfully carried out the holy selection and identified three qualified individuals. Two have been safeguarded and treated as residents of Camelot.

Unfortunately, the third was lost due to my oversight.

The battle with Sir Alaric resulted in the deaths of 29 Knights and a breach of our defenses, allowing hundreds of refugees to escape.

The escapees split into two groups: one fled to the mountains, while the other was hidden by a mysterious merchant whose whereabouts remain unknown."

As Gawain concluded his report, the mention of the mysterious merchant sparked discussion.

"A mysterious merchant? That must be Agravain's failure," Mordred remarked.

Agravain lowered his eyes.

"It appears so. There remains one unaccounted merchant leader."

"That is my report. I am prepared to accept any punishment, for my life is devoted to you.

Please render judgment, my King."

"And what about you?"

The Lion King turned to Alaric, who had remained silent until now.

"My King, I ambushed Sir Tristan in the dead of night while he was pursuing the mountain people.

I disrupted the holy selection, contributed to the refugees' escape, and caused the deaths of many Knights—all because I encountered someone interesting."

Alaric openly admitted to what Gawain had hesitated to disclose,

"The knight, Sir Bedivere. During the holy selection, I encountered the one-armed knight, Bedivere."

"Bedivere? Who is that?"

The Lion King's faint question echoed through the hall, leaving the Round Table knights stunned.