Chương 65: Reunion

On top of the city walls, Artoria pondered for a moment and made a decision.

Although it was inappropriate and went against her royal status, she decided to personally leave the city and welcome her dearest son.

However, surprisingly, besides Queen Guinevere and the witch, Morgan le Fay, there was not a single important figure on Artoria's side.

In its heyday, the Knights of the Round Table, with three hundred knights, now dwindled to only twenty knights and a handful of guards.

The other knights either acted in Artoria's name to intervene and maintain balance throughout Britain or were engaged in the pursuit of the Holy Grail.

Camelot appeared desolate, even the flag of the Red Dragon on the city walls drooped with a lackluster air.

All of this seemed to foreshadow the decline of the Pendragon Dynasty in Britain.

With these thoughts in mind, Artorius felt a heavy heart.

'The title of a ruler of a fallen kingdom is not something to be proud of.'

As he contemplated, he dismounted.

Initially, according to diplomatic etiquette, as the supreme leader of the Germanic Army which was part of the Roman Army, he should have maintained composure and even displayed arrogance when facing Artoria, the King of Britain, to showcase the greatness of the Roman Empire.

But Artorius didn't care about such bullshit.

When the gates of the castle swung open, and the drawbridge lowered, his 'father', Arthur, and his mother, Guinevere, walked out together, and Artorius eagerly approached them.

"Father, Mother."

At least in that moment, Artorius was sincere.

He greeted them first, then embraced and kissed them on the cheeks.

"I missed you both."

"..."

Seeing his son, who had grown into a handsome young man surpassing herself in stature, Artoria also showed an excited expression.

For that brief moment, she forgot the fear of Britain's impending doom, her immense responsibility, overwhelming pressure, and profound sense of helplessness. She simply immersed herself in the joy of being reunited with her beloved child.

Artoria embraced her own child and felt the change in their physical positions. She couldn't help but feel a bit saddened. Previously, she could rest her head on top of Artorius's, but now she could only lean against his chest.

The Sword of Selection, Caliburn, had already shattered. However, Excalibur as the superior existence to Caliburn, remained under her control. This meant that her body remained unchanged, just as it was before, at the age of fifteen, without the slightest alteration. In terms of height, Artorius had surpassed her already.

'If he continues to grow, there may come a time when I won't be able to match Artorius's embrace anymore.' Artoria lightly kissed the side of Artorius's face, unable to resist such thoughts.

"Ahem, Ahem..."

Perhaps feeling that Artorius and Artoria's embrace lasted too long and the scene was too heartwarming, Morgan, who was nearby, felt as uncomfortable as if she had swallowed dozens of pounds of highly concentrated lemons. She couldn't help but cough lightly a few times to draw their attention to the situation.

However, she was completely ignored.

Whether it was Artorius or Artoria, they continued to enjoy the pleasures of family life in their own ways, to compensate for the longing of not seeing each other for two years. Morgan, who was beside them, felt as if she had consumed a mixture of grape, lemon, orange, plum, sour pear, and green apple juice. The sound of teeth grinding against each other echoed. 'Father' and Son, ignored her presence, treating her as if she were invisible.

"These years have been tough on you, Father..." Artorius said to Artoria with a nostalgic tone.

"You too..." Artoria sighed, responding to his words.

Setting aside their differing views on each other's actions, they both knew the hardships they had endured in these two years.

Artorius suffered physically. Conquering and governing were not tasks that could be easily accomplished.

Though Artorius had a strong materialistic desire, he had not yet fallen into depravity, at least not at present. He dedicated the majority of his time to his work. Eighteen hours a day working, five hours for exercise, one hour of rest... Fortunately, being a dragon allowed him to handle such a lifestyle; otherwise, he would have died from overexertion long ago.

Artoria, on the other hand, was burdened with mental fatigue.

In the fragmented state of Britain, with no wars or external pressures, there were very few matters in which she could intervene. Camelot was merely a small domain with a crude management style and methods. The king had few daily administrative tasks to handle.

However, the pressure was immense.

The rise and fall of Britain rested on her shoulders. The pressure she had to endure in a chaotic world without hope was unimaginable.

What made Artorius feel somewhat saddened was that he had also become a source of pressure for her.

Whenever Artorius created a 'magnificent war and achievement' in Europe, Artoria would feel that it was her responsibility.

'Fortunately, everything can still be salvaged.'

As Artoria looked at her beloved son with deep respect, this was what she thought in her heart.

Despite all the changes, Artorius's love for her had not wavered, giving Artoria a sense of illusion of 'she could persuade him to turn back'.

'Unfortunately, all of this must continue.'

As Artorius looked at his loving 'father', he sighed inwardly.

Artoria remained the same as always, a naive and a cutie. He wondered whether it was her education and way of thinking that confined her thoughts or if, on the day she drew the Sword of Selection, her mind stopped growing just like her body.

In any case, she hadn't changed at all...

In the face of reality, the warm scene of a 'father' and son had overshadowed everything.

Except for those directly involved, no one else seemed to notice.

Guinevere, in particular, looked on with satisfaction. On the other side, Morgan gritted her teeth, secretly relishing the pleasure of being ignored and feeling cheated, or rather, experiencing the sensation of being cucked.

If Artorius knew what she was thinking, he would surely hold her in contempt.

After all, everyone else was focused on serious matters, while she was off in her own world.

In this scenario, it wouldn't really be a problem to say that Morgan was kind of a loser.

After all, she always misunderstood anything and thought about nonsense.

Such were the various thoughts of the Pendragon.

But, the knights also had their own thoughts.

Behind Artorius, Gareth was moved by the affection between 'father' and son. Mordred felt a hint of envy, while Galahad, the sensitive young man, sensed that something was amiss.

'Is it really impossible to bridge the gap between the King and His Highness?'

His mood grew increasingly heavy.