Winter, Britain.
Even in this land of the Age of Gods, winter is still bitterly cold.
In fact, it's precisely because it is the Age of Gods that the cold wind sweeping across Britain feels even more biting.
In weather like this, without the protection of the castle, one can only imagine how miserable Arthur and the others must be.
Their open-air office—several dilapidated tents—couldn't look more bleak.
Suck~ suck~
Arthur, the one in the worst physical condition among Camelot's rulers (aside from pampered nobles), sniffled miserably in the cold.
By comparison, the knights were much better off.
With British physiques, even in this freezing weather, they wore full metal armor and stood straight, some silently staring at Arthur with mixed expressions.
"Stop staring at me. Just… get to work," Arthur grumbled, tightening his cloak, uncomfortable with their attention.
"Even so—" Gawain hesitated.
Arthur looked so pitiful he seemed ready to collapse and never wake up from the cold.
How could the cooks feel at ease leaving him like this?
The king's wisdom can reverse all adversity, but his flesh and blood still fall victim to the cold.
For days, murmurs like this had circulated among the knights.
That's why many were always close by, ready to catch their king if he fell.
You see, their usually aloof king was suddenly vulnerable—and this might be their only chance to get close to him!
Well, that was limited to the knights, anyway.
Because at that very moment, the disrespectful silver-haired woman with red eyes was hugging the king and sucking him hard.
Damn it! We're back in Camelot, yet nothing has changed.
So enviable!
"Okay, Lord Gawain, I don't need guards here. Send someone to check on Merlin, Manaka, and the others. Didn't they say the main part would take only three days? It's been longer with no news—I'm worried something's happened to them." The harsh weather made Arthur irritable, but Skadi's skillful ministrations quickly calmed him.
Let me tell you, Miss Killer Whale is truly amazing!
Back to the topic.
Three days ago, Arthur woke after returning to Camelot, wielded his sword, and destroyed the entire castle and northern wall in one strike. His strength and bravery spread immediately, but the castle was still in ruins.
Fortunately, Arthur had long been dissatisfied with Camelot's castle and fortress layout.
He took this chance to order a new castle built on the outskirts of Camelot, with Morgan as leader, Manaka and Merlin as assistants, and the court magicians cooperating.
Magicians are those who explore mysteries through magic.
Each has a different research focus—like scientists. Their knowledge is inherited and passed down generation to generation.
To facilitate research, magicians maintain their own magic workshops, filled with traps and tools to amplify their power.
Creating magic fields is an essential skill for almost all magicians.
With the three top magicians—Morgan, Manaka, and Merlin—working together, building a fortress ten times better than the current Camelot would be easy.
Morgan was chosen leader because, as lord of Britain's island, she could best mobilize the spiritual veins.
With Manaka's mastery of all kinds of magic, the main structure was being constructed.
Merlin's layout of magic traps and amplifications was nearly perfect.
(By the way, Merlin's constant complaints about being bad at making magic formations are pure laziness.)
Arthur wanted to build a truly eternal city.
According to his design and their skills, the new Camelot would probably remain unchanged even after a thousand years.
Of course, completing this massive project would require Arthur to live frugally.
Lancelot returned to France early to deceive his old man.
Materials and ships for trade with Rome were ready, waiting for Merlin to finish the work before moving to Rome—whether Merlin returned alive was not Arthur's concern.
Even Artoria's food supply was cut by two-thirds, prompting the princess to call Arthur a tyrant.
Food was all that could interest Artoria now. Cutting it so drastically felt cruel, and Arthur felt guilty.
But our great Camelot has its realities. Sister, I hope you'll forgive me.
"By the way, where's Kay Qing? Has he returned?"
Arthur suddenly missed that fierce face.
Although Kay wasn't primarily responsible for Merlin's kidnapping, Arthur still felt it was unfair.
He had prepared a month-long, no-sleep job for Kay to complete.
Lord Kay, it's time to do your part for Camelot.
"King, Kay returned yesterday, bringing a lady with him. But—"
Arthur's anger flared upon hearing Gawain's answer.
Kidnapped, yet you still have time to flirt?
Gawain hesitated, then said, "When he came back yesterday, he 'happened' to meet Princess Morgan and Lord Manaka, and is now recovering at home."
"······"
Tsk, you got a bargain, Kay.
Arthur preferred a win-win: let Kay feel pain while draining his energy.
Feeling balanced and his work assigned, Arthur's satisfaction returned.
He subconsciously glared at Gawain.
The accomplice escaped, but the main offender remained.
Only this guy could never be forgiven!
He ran away without permission, giving Merlin an opportunity, disrupted Arthur's plan to control the Roman spy network, and was forced to pull the Holy Sword of the Star out—only to pull out the Sword of Victory of the Wheel instead.
That forced Arthur to become the sword's wielder, lose the castle, and now blow in the cold wind.
My foolish brother, are you ready for my wrath?!
"By the way, Gawain, you are my nephew, right?"
"Yes, my king."
"Good. As my nephew, I won't allow you to slack off. I've long expected the day you become chief knight of the Round Table, Lord Gawain. Will you live up to my expectations?"
"Yes! My king!" Gawain's eyes burned with determination.
This is what the king expected of him. No matter what, he would complete it—even if it cost his life.
"Very good, that's the spirit!" Arthur nodded with satisfaction. "Then let's start with the basics. It's hard to get the holy sword—would be a shame not to wield it skillfully. First, inject magic power into the sword, but be careful not to let me get burned."
"Yes!"
As the gentle light ignited, Arthur's expression softened, his eyes squinting comfortably.
Stove No. 2, successfully obtained!
What? You mean number one?
Let me tell you, Miss Killer Whale's body is super warm, especially her thighs.