Chapter Fourteen: Lancer's Frenzy

“Lancer, are you willing to become my knight?”

“Your will, my sword!
I will treat the weak with kindness,
I will face the strong with courage,
I will fight those who do wrong,
I will fight for those who cannot fight,
I will help those who ask for my assistance,
I will not harm women,
I will aid my fellow knights,
I will be loyal to my friends,
I will be sincere in love.”

I can never forget that night, the man who knelt on one knee before my king—Bedivere.

———The line marking the beginning———

“Gaheris? Is your brother Gawain?” Lancer finally recalled the youth’s identity before him; Gaheris—one of the twelve Knights of the Round Table, the brother of the Sun Knight, and known as the Knight of Flames.

“You know my brother?” Gaheris hadn't expected Lancer to know Gawain. Though both were idols among the younger generation of knights, one traveled afar while the other worked as a mercenary, making their paths rarely cross.

“Yes. I saw him again yesterday, though I imagine he’s already arrived by now. But I don’t know where he is at the moment.”

The smile that had appeared on Gaheris's face vanished instantly. “He’s a man whose emotions show easily.” That was Lancer’s first impression of him. As one of the sparks that led to the collapse of the Round Table, Lancer had expected him to be more like a knight, especially since Gawain missed the final battle at the Sword Bar because Gaheris was killed by Lancelot. Yet the real Gaheris seemed more like a big boy.

“Well, Gaheris, as your brother’s friend, let me give you a piece of advice.” Lancer suddenly turned to Gaheris as something occurred to him.

“What is it?” Gaheris was still somewhat in awe of the famous senior knight’s guidance.

“Calm down. You need to stay calm. I think under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t provoke Bedivere, would you?” At this point, Gaheris noticed Bedivere standing nearby, his face flushed as he suddenly bowed deeply to him.

“I’m sorry!” This apology was much more heartfelt. Lancer could tell it came from the heart, and Bedivere, who had been stunned, suddenly became flustered.

“It’s all right, really, it’s all right.” Seeing the two who had seemed at odds, now one apologizing and the other flustered, Lancer couldn’t help but laugh.

“All right, you two don’t need to keep this up. Lancer and I still want to stroll around. Would you like to join us?” Usually practicing swordplay alone, Toria seemed to enjoy this lively atmosphere and took the initiative to invite the two to join her and Lancer.

The two, who had just been “confronting” each other, answered in unison, “Yes!” Then, looking at each other again, “Don’t copy me!” Lancer could only smile helplessly; he could hardly imagine these playful youths would one day become the most renowned twelve knights of the Round Table.

“All right, stop fooling around. According to Merlin, tonight the prophesied king will be chosen, so there’s only the afternoon left for amusement.” Lancer, seeing the two still tempted to perform their comedy, shared his inside information. The four, chatting as they walked, soon reached the edge of the street, so only the other three heard Lancer’s words.

“What? Lancer, do you know who will become king?” Bedivere was the first to react, his question reminding the others.

Surprisingly, the seemingly simple-minded Gaheris asked, “Does that mean the king has already been decided? Or is this just a farce staged by Merlin and Prince Uther?” No wonder he was Gawain’s brother. Though he appeared rather clueless, he was quite sensitive at critical moments.

“A farce? No. Though the identity of the king was determined at birth, the decision was not made by Merlin, not by King Uther, nor by me, but by this era! This era, which has long forgotten the honor of knights, is slowly rotting away and needs such a king to change it!” By the end, Lancer’s words were nearly fervent. Though he was not a native of this era, as one of the king’s supporters, his longing to see the king ascend the throne was beyond others’ understanding.

Seeing Lancer become nearly fanatical, the three couldn’t help but move aside. After his fervor, Lancer realized his behavior had been somewhat inappropriate and cleared his throat, saying, “I just want you to know that after today, you will welcome a new Britain, and as knights, perhaps after today you may never again have such carefree days.”

“So who is the king? Is it—” Seeing Lancer's earlier fervor, Gaheris looked at him.

“No need to look at me. You must have heard from your brother—I am not of Britain, so I could never be king.” Seeing Gaheris’s expression, Lancer knew he misunderstood and explained.

“Well—” Whether it was Gaheris trying to follow his brother’s footsteps, Bedivere recalling his oath before his father’s grave, or Toria’s admiration for knights, all three looked at Lancer.

“No need to ask. I won’t say. The king will appear tonight, and you will know.” Lancer had no intention of revealing it now; even if he did, no one would believe him, and he knew the girl needed the resolve that comes when one knows their own future, not a prophecy at this moment.

“All right.” Though none of the three pressed further, Lancer could plainly see their minds were not on the stroll as dusk arrived. Those with any status had already tried their luck, none able to move the sword even a fraction. The ones who had come just to try had retreated, now only watching the spectacle. The lack of any hope led some to voice discontent, but the influential quickly suppressed it. These were only the minority; those truly in power knew Merlin’s abilities and saw no reason to oppose him in this matter. Most were prepared to obey King Uther’s orders—after all, not everyone had the courage to rebel.

In this strange atmosphere, the day drew to a close. Everyone went to sleep. As for the Sword in the Stone? None believed it could be stolen. If someone could draw it out, then he would be the prophesied king.

At this moment, Lancer had no intention of sleeping. The ring had reminded him: tonight, Toria would become king, and Lancer had only been waiting for this moment. As he waited, he saw Merlin knock on Toria’s door. Soon, Toria emerged wearing that blue knight’s armor, and Lancer followed. He knew—the time had come.