Out!?
I can go out?
Am I about to gain my freedom?
Hearing Morgan say this, Lancelot's breathing instantly became rapid.
Heaven have mercy
Only those who have lost their freedom truly understand how precious it is.
If there was one thing Lancelot regretted most now, it was being deceived by those British nobles back
then and choosing to oppose Lot and Morgan.
Being tricked was one thing.
But the most critical part was that he couldn't even defeat them.
He was thoroughly beaten and imprisoned.
At first, he thought being locked up was just temporary he'd be released in a few days at most.
But whether it was due to Morgan and Lot's maliciousness or sheer carelessness, after being imprisoned, aside from that one time crossing the sea, the only person who came to see him was Galahad, who brought him food daily.
The food wasn't an issue.
The real problem was the young knight's words he couldn't stand them.
What did I even do to offend him?
Why is he treating me like this?
Lancelot was utterly baffled.
Now, Morgan had finally come to him and even said he could regain his freedom.
How could this not excite him?
"You'll release me now?"
"I could, but I need you to do something for me first," Morgan replied.
"What is it?"
Hearing this, Lancelot frowned. Then, he looked at Morgan and said, "Tell me what it is. If it violates the knight's code of ethics, then you might as well kill me or keep me imprisoned until I die I won't do it."
As a knight, he had his own dignity.
If the price of freedom was abandoning that dignity, then Lancelot would rather remain unfree.
Seeing his resolve, Morgan openly admitted, "What I'm asking you to do will indeed screw over a lot of people."
The moment Lancelot heard his actions might harm many, his hands which had been gripping the bars of his cell immediately let go. He turned and walked back to the center of the cell.
"I won't do such a thing."
"Why don't you ask who exactly I'm screwing over first?" Morgan pressed.
"It doesn't matter who it's immoral regardless."
"Screwing people over is immoral? Then what about those hoarding grain and planning to sell it at exorbitant prices? Is that moral?" Morgan countered.
"Hm?"
Hearing this, everyone turned their attention to her.
"Lancelot, I want you to help me set a trap. The targets of this trap are those unscrupulous merchants," Morgan explained.
"Hm?"
Now Lancelot was intrigued.
Beside him, Galahad and Artoria also focused intently.
Morgan then laid out her plan.
By the time she finished, both Artoria and Galahad were looking at her with admiration.
Fortunately, Morgan wasn't the type to lose herself under such gazes.
She knew full well
The truly brilliant one wasn't her.
It was that husband of hers at home.
Morgan turned her gaze back to Lancelot.
"Now, will you give me your answer?"
"Aren't you afraid I'll just run away?" Lancelot shot back.
"Of course not."
Morgan was utterly confident.
"Next, she'll probably use knightly morals to bind me," Lancelot thought.
Just as he was thinking this, Morgan said, "Alright, Galahad, Artoria hold him down. Make him sign a contract of servitude."
"What?!"
Before Lancelot could react, Artoria and Galahad rushed in, seized his hand, and pressed it onto the contract.
He didn't even get a chance to resist.
And just like that, the contract was signed.
At the same time, Morgan pointed to Lancelot's weapon.
"Your sword is also in my possession. Once you complete the task, I'll return it along with the contract. Oh, and I'll also tell you the story between you and 'Little G.'"
Hearing this, Galahad couldn't help but glance at Morgan.
Meeting his gaze, Morgan mouthed, "Patience."
After a long silence, Lancelot finally nodded slowly.
"Fine. I'll help you. But I'll only target nobles with notorious reputations. If that's not enough, I won't assist further. And when it's done, I expect everything returned to me including answers I'm satisfied with."
His weapon, the contract tied to his honor, and the reason behind Galahad's hostility
He wanted to know it all.
If she could provide that, he'd cooperate.
"Deal."
Morgan agreed.
And so, the pact was sealed.
After giving Galahad some food and supplies, Morgan let him leave. Watching him go, Galahad opened his mouth as if to say something.
Seeing his expression, Morgan spoke first:
"Let me ask you can you hide something for a while and keep it hidden forever? Do you really plan to keep him locked up for life? You should just tell Lancelot the truth."
So what if you're his son? That scumbag deserves to know he has a child.
"…Alright."
Galahad nodded slowly.
He didn't understand why Morgan wanted him to reveal that he was from a future timeline.
But she must have her reasons.
And so, he would follow her will.
Queen Morgan never lets her subordinates suffer.
That was Galahad's conviction.
After leaving Camelot's prison, Lancelot headed straight for the coast.
Walking freely across the land, he felt an unprecedented sense of liberation and joy.
Is this what freedom tastes like?
Before, he hadn't realized it. But now, with freedom regained, his heart swelled with exhilaration.
Reaching the narrow strait between Britain and France
A mere thirty kilometers wide
Lancelot didn't hesitate. He dove straight in and swam back to France.
In recent days, a major rumor had spread across France:
The knight Lancelot, who had vanished after departing for Britain, had returned.
But he looked utterly disheveled
Even his sword was missing.
Some nobles couldn't resist mocking him.
And Lancelot? He wasn't about to tolerate that.
Single-handedly, he trounced every one of those nobles.
Then, he made a declaration to all of France:
"I may have just returned, but that doesn't mean you can provoke me."
"My strength is beyond anything you can match."
Yet, facing opponents he could defeat so easily, Lancelot felt a strange emptiness.
In this era, the truly powerful knights were all gathered in Britain in Camelot.
On that island where fantasy still lived.
France's martial spirit had grown feeble beyond repair.
This only deepened Lancelot's resolve to return to Britain someday.
The humiliation he suffered there would be repaid with his own hands.
But for now, Morgan's task took priority.
With that in mind, Lancelot began his mission.
This year, France had seen a bountiful harvest.
Well, a harvest for the noble lords, at least.
"You peasants think you can get rich by farming?
Dream on."
The landowners hoarded the grain, saving it for droughts or famines
All to expand their ranks of serfs.
But recently, they'd found a better use for it.
Lancelot spread the word:
Britain was in dire need of food.
If anyone could supply grain, its rulers would pay handsomely.
The moment this news broke, it sent shockwaves through the hoarding nobles.
Sell to Camelot?
At premium prices?
This was far more profitable than just acquiring serfs.
Peasant households had little to offer just an extra laborer.
But selling to Camelot?
Its king would surely pay in gold and silver.
With control over the food supply, they could even negotiate for more.
A few concessions, and Camelot's rulers would owe them big.
Then, if trouble arose, they could just call on Camelot's armies to fight for them.
Those British islanders might not be much at farming, but in war?
Not even the Romans to the south could match them.
The grain shortage in Camelot was already common knowledge in nearby France.
The nobles knew Lancelot wasn't lying.
So their enthusiasm for selling grain to Britain was sky-high.
Some were so eager that they started loading their carts the moment Lancelot finished speaking.
Lancelot was stunned.
"I was planning to organize a trading caravan first…
But I didn't even need to say anything they're already moving.
Perfect. I didn't force them. If they get scammed, it's not my fault."
The nobles' trading parties set out in waves.
To them, this was a gold rush.
They'd return home with fortunes in hand smoothly and effortlessly.
At the docks, ships arrived one after another.
The grain merchants gathered, chatting amiably.
Normally, these men would be at each other's throats.
But with easy money ahead?
The mood was downright festive.
They gossiped about everything
From family drama to scandalous affairs, even praising the readers for their peerless handsomeness.
"What's going on?"
Lot had just prepared to spring his trap on the merchants
But now, they were flocking to him, practically begging to be swindled.
"Heh, my doing."
Just as Lot was marveling, Morgan arrived, boasting.
"We lured the French grain merchants here, trapped their stock, and now they'll have no choice but to lower prices."
Lot was shocked.
She came up with the exact same plan as me?
Seeing his stare, Morgan panicked slightly.
She forced composure and said, "What? It was my idea, so I'll handle it. You just relax."
"Relax? No way. Now that they're in my grasp, I'm going to make them suffer."
Lot rejected her offer.
He still couldn't wrap his head around Morgan's identical strategy.
But since similar tactics had been used in ancient China and within the same class constraints it wasn't impossible for her to think of it.
Just extremely coincidental.
Lot decided not to dwell on it.
It was time to act.
When it comes to psychological warfare…
You ancients are no match for me.
…
The grain merchants waited at the docks for the officials who were supposed to purchase their grain.
At first, they stood tall and proud, their demeanor haughty and arrogant.
But as noon passed and no one arrived, some of them grew restless.
They approached the dock officials to inquire about the grain purchasers.
After some time, they received an answer:
The official in charge of buying grain had urgent family matters and couldn't come.
The merchants were disheartened but had no choice but to wait.
They waited until the next day.
Only to be told:
The official's family affairs still weren't resolved.
So they waited.
By the third day,
the official still hadn't come,
again citing personal matters.
The grain merchants couldn't take it anymore.
Their earlier shipments hadn't been sold, yet new transport ships kept arriving.
How could the merchants endure this?
After some discussion, they reached a consensus.
Fine.
They'd go find the grain purchaser themselves.
After much effort, they finally tracked him down in a restaurant.
His plate was piled high with steak, grilled fish, lobster, and other lavish dishes.
This didn't look like someone dealing with a serious family crisis at all.
"Didn't you say you had urgent family matters?"
they asked the official.
"It's been resolved."
Seeing their skepticism, the official remained utterly unruffled.
He picked up a fish from his plate and began devouring it.
Then, after finishing, he slumped over the table, pretending to be choking on a fishbone.
If not for the fact that the fish had no bones to begin with, the merchants might've actually believed him.
Now, they finally understood:
They'd been completely duped.
The rulers of Camelot were toying with them like monkeys.
Camelot's rulers had never intended to buy their grain.
No, they had to go back.
This entire trip had been a scam.
But they'd forgotten an old saying:
Goods unloaded are as good as dead.
Especially when those goods were exactly what Lot and Morgan needed most.
How could they possibly let them slip away?
When the merchants returned to the docks, they found their ships intact, undamaged.
At least Camelot cared about its image enough to avoid baseless violence.
Seeing their ships were fine, they hurriedly set sail.
This deal was over they just needed to keep their grain safe.
But before they'd traveled even a mile, Britain's naval fleet surrounded them.
"We're patrolling the coast to hunt pirates. Turn back now. If you refuse, this grain will be treated as pirate contraband."
No one would plead their case if they were killed for "smuggling."
"Go back."
Meanwhile, the merchants noticed other grain ships sailing toward Camelot unchecked by the navy, waved right through.
Now they really understood what was happening.
But there was nothing they could do.
They were fish on a chopping block, utterly at the mercy of others.
Some stubbornly refused to accept this.
They tried to force their way through, desperate to return home.
But Camelot's military prowess was on full display.
Their strength was overwhelming.
Within minutes, the merchant ships were boarded and seized.
The grain was confiscated.
The remaining ships had no choice but to turn back.
But even then, some merchants remained defiant.
"Oh, pirates, you say? Fine, I won't sell. What can you do about it?"
"I'll outlast you."
"Let's see who gives up first."
Then, when they returned to the docks,
they found the stockpiled grain had grown even larger.
This was a nightmare!
The merchants cursed inwardly.
But they knew they couldn't hold out any longer.
With this much grain piled up, they couldn't possibly raise prices.
More supply meant lower demand.
So the merchants chose representatives and, after much maneuvering,
actually managed to secure an audience with Lot himself.
Seeing Lot, no matter how much they seethed inside,
they addressed him with utmost respect:
"Honorable King Lot, merchants from France humbly seek an audience."
"What brings you here?"
Lot, reclining in his chair, slowly opened his eyes at their approach.
Everything was going exactly as he'd planned.
His mood couldn't be more relaxed.
"What do you want from me?"
"Would Your Majesty consider purchasing our grain?"
"I can't pay full price. You'll have to lower it."
Lot spoke leisurely.
"Very well. What price did you have in mind?"
The merchant tried to gauge Lot's bottom line.
Lot held up five fingers.
"Half price? That's acceptable."
The merchant assumed he meant 50%.
It wasn't much, but compared to the original wheat purchase cost, they'd still turn a small profit.
But Lot shook his head.
"This five means five copper coins per sack. For all of it."
"That's far too low!"
The merchants protested immediately.
But Lot stood and declared:
"This price is my final offer. How you divide it among yourselves is your business. My decision won't change."
"Now, go discuss it."
Discuss? Discuss what?
After all their efforts, he'd just dismissed them outright.
What was there to discuss?
A waste of time.
The merchants left.
And then, they experienced Camelot's true malice.
No one would sell them food or water.
They had no choice but to endure.
It was worse than prison.
In the end, every last one of them sold their grain at Lot's price.
What else could they do? If they refused, they might never make it home.
Once the grain was unloaded,
they were allowed to leave without further hindrance.
As for those so-called "pirates"?
Nowhere to be found.
The merchants left in tears.
Lot and Morgan laughed all day.
The unloaded shipments nearly overflowed Camelot's granaries.
With minimal expense, Lot had acquired a massive stockpile of grain.
Of course, he knew this would earn him the undying hatred of France's nobles.
But he wasn't worried in the slightest.
Their spinelessness was common knowledge.
Today, they'd decry "The monsters from Camelot have landed!"
But if his army marched into their territories?
They'd roll out the red carpet, proclaiming:
"All hail the supreme co-rulers of Camelot and France King Lot and Queen Morgan!"
Jabs at France's cowardice were timeless.
If they wanted revenge, they'd need an army first.
And Lot wasn't concerned.
Their strength was nowhere near that of his true enemy Vortigern.
"Come at me. I could crush you all with one hand."
As it turned out, Lot's assessment was spot-on.
When the nobles learned their grain had been sold for practically nothing,
they were furious.
That bastard King Lot…!
But all they could do was rage in private.
France's nobles might've been weak, but they weren't stupid.
If they sent their armies against Camelot,
Camelot's forces would crush them within minutes.
So after the initial outrage passed,
they had no means of retaliation.
Instead, they shifted the blame to the one who'd lured them into this:
The knight Lancelot.
They sought revenge against him.
But when they arrived at Lancelot's castle,
they found it empty abandoned.
He was gone.
Everyone was stunned.
Where did he go?
Wales Vortigern's Court
Though newly constructed since his arrival,
the palace's grandeur already dwarfed Lot and Morgan's royal residence.
Why?
Because most of it had been built by fairies.
Within the court, human soldiers trained intensively.
After negotiations with the fairies, Vortigern had forged an alliance.
Of course, the fairies didn't trust Vortigern,
and Vortigern had no intention of relying on them either.
He merely used them as tools to construct his palaces and facilities.
Vortigern wanted the fairies as obedient servants.
The fairies wanted him as their frontline enforcer.
Both sides cooperated each with their own schemes.
With the fairies' help, entire palaces sprang up almost overnight.
"Now, let's see what new schemes Lot and Morgan have concocted."
The memory of his last defeat still made Vortigern's teeth ache with fury.
To ensure victory next time,
he kept close tabs on Camelot's movements.
He'd ordered his subordinates to report any intelligence immediately.
After reviewing Lot and Morgan's latest actions,
Vortigern realized one thing:
War was coming.
Lot and Morgan were gathering every possible resource to use against him.
Previously, grain shortages might've held them back.
But now? They had all they needed.
They were just waiting for the right moment to strike.
Facing this impending attack,
Vortigern had no intention of surrendering.
He still planned to crush Lot and Morgan
and reclaim everything that was rightfully his.
"Summon the fairy envoy."
Meanwhile, the knight Lancelot had returned to Camelot's court.
He sought an audience with Morgan.
In the palace, he faced her once more.
"You completed your mission adequately. Acceptable work."
Praise from Morgan meant nothing to him.
He wanted something tangible.
His sword.
The contract he'd signed.
With those returned, he'd be truly free.
Armed and unbound, he could do as he pleased.
"Will you return what's mine?"
"Of course."
Morgan smiled.
She tossed Lancelot his sword.
He caught it effortlessly, inspecting it for tampering.
Finding none, he exhaled in relief.
Then, he noticed Galahad standing nearby,
staring at him with an indescribably complex gaze.
Unlike the previous hatred,
this look was layered with emotions Lancelot couldn't decipher.
"Now, will you explain my connection to him? And why he despises me so?"
"Do you truly want the answer?"
"Yes."
"You. Are. His. Father."
Morgan enunciated each word.
Silence.
Several seconds passed.
Then, Lancelot's lips curled into a smirk.
"That's not a very funny joke. How could I possibly be his father?"
He chuckled until he noticed Galahad's unchanged expression.
"...You're serious?"
His voice cracked with disbelief.
"Yes."
Morgan nodded.
"That's impossible."
Lancelot's denial was absolute.
His current status, to put it bluntly?
He was a virgin.
Tell a virgin he'd fathered a child someday?
Who'd believe that?!
"Hm?"
Morgan studied Lancelot's unwavering conviction.
He wasn't lying.
Then Galahad spoke again.
"At this point in time, I haven't been born yet. My birth is still years away."
"So you're saying…?"
"I'm from a future timeline. Certain events brought me here."
"WHAT?!"
Lancelot wasn't the only one shocked.
Even Morgan was taken aback.
She'd just uncovered an even greater secret.