"Sir Lancelot, since when did you start mimicking Kay? Such brooding thoughts won't win you any popularity. While I don't particularly endorse Gawain's sunny disposition, a little optimism wouldn't hurt. Or… do you truly have no confidence in me, Sir Lancelot?" Arthur asked in a teasing tone, completely unaware of Lancelot's odd behavior.
"No! Not at all! I've always believed our king will lead us to victory!" Lancelot replied loudly, as though something in him had been triggered.
"Too loud! Are you trying to give me a heart attack, you idiot!"
"Ah, sorry…"
Arthur couldn't help but laugh at the sight of Lancelot suddenly calming down with a guilty look on his face.
If he told anyone about this, no one would believe it. The perfect Knight of the Lake, acting like this?
"My king, are you alright?" Lancelot asked with concern.
"Of course I'm fine. Do I look that delicate? You think I'd keel over from a shout? I'm not some fragile little hamster."
"Phew… I'm relieved to hear that. Still, please stay close to me during the battle. It's not the outcome I fear—it's your safety. The battlefield is unpredictable. Even I could fall if I let my guard down."
"I understand," Arthur nodded.
In truth, he wasn't particularly worried about his own safety.
Sure, the battlefield was dangerous—filled with superhuman Britons and Saxons alike. A single swing from an average soldier could easily end the life of a normal man like Arthur.
But after drawing the Sword of the Chosen, he had triggered six system tasks and completed three, earning the following rewards:
[Equipment: Shield of Radiance] (with Aegis Autonomous Defense System)
[Knowledge: Swordsmanship]
[Skill: Telekinesis]
The swordsmanship reward was straightforward—a full set of knightly sword techniques and knowledge. The system had even thoughtfully tailored the style to complement Arthur's weapon.
Telekinesis was more like a utility power: a few invisible hands capable of manipulating objects at will. Handy in daily life, but limited in power—it could lift a human-sized weight about ten meters. In battle, though? Not especially useful. Even the weakest warrior here could strike with over 100 kilos of force; Arthur's 60-70 kilo push wouldn't faze them.
No, his real trump card was the Shield of Radiance.
A cross-shaped shield with two adjustable sizes, it could grow to nearly two meters and float autonomously around the user when fed magic. It could intercept attacks on its own, and its defenses were so strong that even Arthur himself doubted he could break through it.
As for the magic needed to power it? No problem.
Thanks to Morgan's divine protection as Lord of the Island, Arthur could access the mana of the British Isles—one of the few places left in the world still steeped in the magic of the Age of Gods. And mana was something this land had in abundance. Though his output wasn't especially large, it was limitless.
With these advantages, Arthur was confident he could survive as long as he didn't charge ahead recklessly. Hiding behind the army and letting the Shield of Radiance deflect stray arrows was perfectly reasonable.
...Okay, maybe it was a little cowardly.
But to Arthur, this wasn't cowardice—it was knowing his limits.
After all, what chance did a regular person like him have on a battlefield?
"Then I'll count on you, Sir Lancelot," Arthur said solemnly.
Having an extra bodyguard wasn't a bad idea.
What Arthur didn't notice was that, as he spoke, Gawain's eyes went red with frustration—and the SAN values of nearby knights and soldiers plummeted.
"By the way, Kay," Arthur continued, "what do you make of the Saxons' decision to attack us?"
"…Very dangerous."
"I'm not asking for a weather report. I meant their decision to declare war."
"Oh. That…" Kay paused, then answered, "It's reckless—maybe even suicidal. They crossed the defense line of the northern kings and came straight for Camelot. Even if they win, the kings won't let them return alive. They doomed themselves the moment they set foot on Camelot's soil."
Exactly. Reckless, foolish, even insane.
Even if they captured Camelot, what then? The surrounding kingdoms had already mobilized. Once the Saxons were depleted from battle, they'd be surrounded and crushed.
That's why the announcement of their approach had caused such disbelief.
It was clearly a suicide mission with no escape route.
"You've got it, Kay," Arthur nodded with satisfaction. "That's why the northern kings let them through. It kills two birds with one stone: it humbles me, the so-called prophesied king, and gives them a chance to eliminate an enemy army for free. I would've made the same call in their shoes."
Kay said nothing. From his perspective, such tactics weakened Britain from within.
But if Arthur approved, he couldn't object further.
"…Still, it feels meaningless. Even if they're barbarians, why throw their lives away like this?" Gawain asked. "Didn't they realize attacking Camelot wouldn't get them anything?"
"Haha, no one gives their life so easily," Arthur said. "It's rare to find people who'd charge toward certain death. No, the Saxons must've seen a way out. If they defeat us and pass through Camelot, they'll reach the eastern sea cliffs. Too steep to launch an invasion from, yes—but perfect for an escape."
The cliffs were easy to overlook.
Only someone deeply familiar with the area would think of using them.
"By now," Arthur added, voice tinged with sarcasm, "their warships are probably docked below, ready to pick them up."
Everyone stared at him, stunned.
It was as if Arthur had known about the attack in advance—or had helped the Saxons plan it himself.
But… how could that be?
At that moment, a dark-armored knight galloped back from the front lines.
—It was Agravain.
He had been the first to report the Saxons' movements, and now returned with updated intelligence.
"My king," he said, "news from the front: when the sun reaches its zenith, the enemy will arrive at the designated position."