Chapter 1

Artoria

"What role in society do you play? Do you go with the current or against it?" A simple question, but one that led to a series of rules that I had been using throughout my lives.

Ten years ago, I had been a salaryman doing everything I could to help some idiotic drug addict get his life back in order, only for said drug addict to shove me in front of a train because I was the one who had to finally fire him. I had done everything within my position in society to help him regain his position in society, and all the thanks I get is a kick in the ass followed by a swift splat.

A terrible way to go, though I will admit I was dead rather quickly, so I didn't suffer much. I hate to think about what my family had to deal with, though definitely not an open-casket funeral, as the Americans would say.

But before my death, there had been a strange series of events where an entity appeared to me. Why I did not have belief in gods. Claiming that it was one, well, I believe that Judeo-Christian God it pretended to be died, though as far as I'm aware, that particular entity does not have reincarnation as an authority on its Divine list of abilities.

Anyways, it didn't go great, and apparently, I had upset him to some degree. So, he had cast me into a world for my next reincarnation that would be far, far away from modern technology, in a method I believe to try and force me to gain some manner of faith.

I doubt it would work, but whatever you choose to do, I would do what I need to. If I was cast into a world that dictated some things about society, I would accept those if necessary. Though I would not fall for this being's faith if it appeared.

But where had I appeared…well, that's a question. From what sources I could tell, the year was 435 AD. The Christian calendar had made it to here sometime in 300 during the colonization of Rome under Constantine, who had ruled from this island for a time before becoming a full emperor.

This was useful as this gave me a timeline of where and when I was. From what I could determine, the Roman Empire had abandoned the majority of Britain ten years ago. There was one Roman fort that held the line between the Cornwall peninsula and the rest of Britain, but that was not exactly a menacing force that controlled large swaths of territory like it once had. Rome had abandoned Britannia to defend itself twenty-five years ago and hadn't come back, too busy with its own problems, its own issues.

Leaving the Britons and the Romano-Britons to fight for themselves. I would say that there were also some Romans left, though I had never met them. I simply learned what I could from my lessons via my teacher, which made me very suspect of a certain thing, including my name, making me very suspect on many things. One does not reach the age of thirty without hearing about Fate/stay Night. I played enough idle management video games to have come across that pack. I played enough historical video games to come across the name, particularly one that was very similar to my own.

This life had given me the name Artoria, which was not too far off from Arthur. One would have to be blind and deaf not to put two and two together, especially when you also had a teacher come to you in your dreams by the name of Merlin.

I may not have had a proper dream in the last ten years, but I will say this: the efficiency of dream teaching is rather well-made, in my opinion. If I got the chance, I would definitely be asking Merlin to teach me how to do that.

But that comes back to what I was saying, where every society has a role given to its individuals. And though I officially was not the heir of anyone to the throne, I was not a fool. I was the heir to Uther Pendragon, one of the two rulers of Britain. More precisely, the ruler of the Britain part of Britain. His brother ruled the Romano-Britons, those who had adopted more of the Roman culture into their everyday life.

I was in neither of their kingdoms. Officially, I was in the dukedom of Cornwall, the town that belongs to the family that my mother belonged to, at least from what I could grasp of the situation.

After the Romans had fallen, efforts had been made to solidify the control of Roman Britain under the two brothers, and it had been successful until rather recently from what I could tell.

My uncle ruled the Roman Britons and had taken on many of their traits and efforts to stamp out his problems. Picts that came south from Pictland attacking his territories, so he brought in Anglo-Saxons and Jutes to fight them, allowing them to settle in areas of Roman Britannian control. Also, as a countermeasure against Anglo-Saxon and Jute raiding parties that came from the main continent. A mercenary army ripped right out of the pages of the Roman handbook, at least the later years of the Roman handbook. The Roman handbook that would see the end of the Roman Empire, as I knew. So I don't know how many realized how badly it would go as years went on.

Then again, the problems of the Huns were not so far off, if memory served, which probably was not the best memory in the world, but hey, I gave it a good shot. Attila the Hun should be coming to power as of last year. Which means for the next twenty odd years, Rome was going to be way too busy to take any chance at recolonizing Britain, and likely the fortress that was occupied by Romans between the peninsula where I lived and the rest of the Britain territories would be abandoned as the troops were called south to deal with that catastrophe.

As for my father, well, he ruled what would basically be Non-Romanized Britain, Northern Britain along the west coast into Wales, and he was not the best leader from what I could understand.

From reports, I understood parts of Wales had been bitten off by Irish raids and colonizations. They were practically independent, and my father had not done a lot to drive them out or return control over his own territory. Instead, from what I could understand, he was either too busy fighting off the Scots, the northern Picts, pretty much, and being basically a bad king in his later years. He had been a good king once when he had helped in the building of a new system after the leaving of the Romans, but now, now he wasn't, and reportedly it was my mother's fault. Apparently, his love for her had caused him to cause a bit of a civil issue with the Duke of Cornwall. Which is one of the reasons why the Duke of Cornwall was not a vassal of either one of the British Kings and an independent entity relying on the Roman forces instead his own to keep them out.

Probably why I had been shipped off to this peninsula to be raised, because here I was safe from what was likely going to be a troubled court, but what details of that court I did not know for sure. Merlin had mentioned that it was not a place for a true king to grow up.

He was preparing me as much as he could for what he knew was to come, so how much did he know I did not know. He did practice magic and claimed he was a wizard. So that meant a few things in my mind, although he did refuse to teach me any of this magic, yet it was very likely that magic was real. I mean, dream teaching, that alone is something that does not exist in the modern world, yet it exists here. Either it did exist and was destroyed at some point and it's some technique that has to do with psychic powers, or it is magic which opened a can of worms that I wasn't sure I was ready for.

But that was just what I had to do during the night when I should be dreaming; during the day, my teaching was much different.

In fact, it was about to begin as I pulled myself out of bed, pulling my blonde hair back into a bun as quickly as possible.

Through a nearby window, I could see the sun's rise, which meant it was time for training. I got up and changed from my night clothing into clothing that I used for my training. Brown pants, tunic, and a leather vest before stepping out of my room and putting on a pair of boots, strapping a wooden sword to my side as I walked out the main hallway into an area where my adopted father Sir Ector and his son Kay were currently having a meal.

"Bit late on getting up there, son," father said.

I simply nodded since I had a lot of thoughts to think about this morning, but I'm up. That's why I made my way over to the table, taking a seat where there was already food ready. I knew I wasn't that far behind; it was all cooked and everything.

"Hmmm, well, that's good to see you're up at least. You're old enough now that we can start training you on how to ride a horse, which is a skill you're going to need in the coming years if you're going to be an effective knight."

I nod my head in agreement. Granted, supposedly, I would be the king, so why I need to be a knight was kind of obvious from the conflicts that would be springing up all around whatever rulership I would have. Whatever day that came, it would not be a kind and happy rulership. I would need to defeat all the enemies around me, bring them to heel to make my kingdom safe; I would have to be a warrior king. Granted, I could take my uncle's path and use mercenaries for that, but it was very likely that that would not go well from what I understood of history. As for my father, he showed why you couldn't be a solo warrior king; he based himself into being a warrior and nothing else.

This is why I need to be a quote-unquote knight first. I needed to understand chivalry and all that came with it to ensure my rulership would be just and right; otherwise, what would be the difference between me and the last pair of idiots?

I have been taking lessons here for nearly five years, and I've been five years before that, I believe in whatever realm Merlin lived in. Obviously, some sort of bargain had been struck between Merlin and my father. Whatever that bargain was, he had not given me all the details, though considering the situation when it comes to the perspective of becoming the next king, I estimated something to do with assuring Uther's rule. Perhaps your firstborn for the safety of your castle or something of that nature. There are really many options that I could estimate, but that would take hours to go over. I mean, I had theories out the wazoo because the man refused to give me proper information when I was sent here by father or was I sent here because I had not been a bullet after all; most rulerships fell to a son, and from as far as I could tell, the king had not managed to create a son in his many years ruling the decaying Kingdom.

Eating the food before me, I enjoyed it for what it was. It wasn't too fancy, but it was a staple: bread, meat, and egg, just enough to get by. As soon as I was finished, Kay stood up, saying, "Well, we should probably go into the horses, do your midday lessons with the blade, and maybe this afternoon we'll do the horse riding."

Why not? I stood up, taking my plate and moving it over to a box that we take down to the river to get cleaned.

From there, I followed him out nodding to father who nodded back.

He was an old grump but he was, in my mind, the perfect figure for a family, especially one that needs to be making knights.

This was just generally standard as I stepped out into the sunlight, enjoying it for what it was. Every day I did training for my future service as a warrior, and I had come to accept that that would be my lot in life until the day I was to become king. Well, that could be tomorrow, could be 5 years from now, could be 20, really dependent on how long the current king of Northern Britain held on.

Looking north, I could see the beach not too far away, and beyond that, the sea, and just beyond that, a landmass. Now, from what I understood, that must be what was modern-day Wales, but in this era, it was either Irish-occupied Wales or my father's-occupied Wales.

The only reason that this part of Britain was not being invaded by the various powers that were out there was simply that it was rather poor compared to the other areas and was protected by both the Duke and the Roman command.

We were so close to destruction, yet because of a few mitigating factors that kept the raiders away, we were safe and given a firsthand view of the destruction of the fifth century.

One wrong move in this place would be a disaster.

"Come along, little brother," Kay said, which, in my opinion, was a little bit much. I mean, I wasn't that small compared to him; He was only a few years older than me, as far as I was concerned.

I wasn't that concerned about the fact that people kept referring to me as a brother and son, though I'd come to understand that that was one of the things they were doing to basically protect me from the rest of my family. My uncle and father may not like the fact that I was out here learning to be a knight. I doubt my uncle would like that at all. If my father did not produce a male heir to become the king of Northern Britain, he would take it. Would he be able to hold it? I don't know, but he probably would invite more mercenaries from the continent, more settlers to that region, and how would he treat the non-Romanized Britons as well as my father did? That was bound to be a mess.

But anyways, I followed my brother to the horses, and we got to work caring for them, making sure their hooves were good and that they didn't need anything, giving them just enough food for a meal before we broke from that campaign of treating the animals to the campaign of learning how to use swords.

I will admit I was not a complete stranger to the use of swords. I have used kendo back in the day, but well, kendo is different. A long slashing weapon versus a rather short stabbing weapon, at least that's what I've been trained on so far, a gladius-like weapon wouldn't, of course, so that we didn't harm each other, but it was just to get the understanding of the weapon.

Father used a much larger weapon, a two-handed longsword. So most likely, I would be trained to use a weapon like that in the next few years, but I need to get down the initial understanding of how to use a shorter weapon and a shield for my own defense.

I think I did pretty good, though I always had to be careful since Kay was larger than me and had a better grasp of his weapon, more range with his arm, probably be an issue I'd have to deal with as the years go on.

At this moment, he and I were trading blows, with him trying to get past my defenses. I held up the rounded shield, using his gladius to try and get around the side. I kept reflecting that and using my own to force him back. Neither one of us was able to exactly get in a hit, but we were getting better, trading blows at faster rates, trying to get past each other.

Finally, we managed to lock swords with each other for a moment, both of us bumping into each other before falling back onto the ground exhausted.

Though I managed to get up first, which pleased me as I saw father approaching, a slight nod with his head as he saw me getting up. Good, I was living up to his expectations, and his expectations were what the society wanted of me, so I was on the right path, at least as far as the only path available to me.

Granted, I guess I could always run away and live in the woods, become some sort of peasant. But while the rating was already getting pretty bad with a king, without a king, it would probably get worse. The life expectancy of a British peasant probably would fall well below 30, probably closer to 20, and that was something I'd rather not live through.

So, I win again, Kay said, sitting up, drawing my eyes to him with a rather raised eyebrow. "How can you call that a win? We're both down on the ground, and I got up first."

"You got up first because you're always getting up first," Kay said, "but you fell first as well. I only fell once I realized you were falling, and could see my win."

"Changing the rules so that your close victory is considered a victory is not exactly how battles are won," I mused.

"Perhaps," he said, sitting up, "but from what I understand, if you can keep the morale of your soldiers up by claiming victory, then you have a better chance of winning the next fight. In my morale is pretty good because I won that."

I snickered. He wasn't wrong, he wasn't right, but I'd give him this: his attitude on combat was not a bad attitude. Morale played a heavy role in victories, especially in this era where it came down to who broke first and not who had the most powerful weapon. If your men believe that their general would lead them to victory, they'd fight harder. The only thing that works better than that is a well-pulled card from the old Korean textbook: give your own men nowhere to run, and they'll fight like there's a living beast behind them that would swallow them up if they didn't fight.

Sighing, I got up, brushing my clothing off as father approached. Not even a nod as he said, "You two are going to be splendid knights when you grow up," he said, slipping up his mask for a moment before adding, "But just because I say that this time doesn't mean you shouldn't continue to train like the devil himself is coming."

I nodded, noticing my brother doing the same as father put his hand on Kay's shoulder, saying, "I heard you were going to take her out for a ride in about an hour, so go get the horses ready. I need to have a conversation with Artorias."

Brother noted it and left us as I raised an eyebrow at the use of my male code name, only used when there were people on the property we didn't want to know who I really was.

"Who's here, father?" I asked as he looked out over the ocean towards the wolf coast of Wales before saying, "Romans, particularly the current captain of the Garrison, minding the road between Cornwall and the rest of Britain."

"What are they doing here?" I asked, fast as he put his hand on my shoulder, leading me towards the house.

"They're doing the normal rounds, trying to encourage the population to join their Garrison. They can't bring in Romans anymore. Gaul is a battlefield of the Visigoths and the Franks, with the Romans bouncing in between the two, not to mention other minor clans that have fled the scourge of the steppes."

"That would be the Huns," my brain automatically filled in. They were, at this point, rich off the wealth of the steppes of what would be later known as Southern Russia. They had been beating the Persian empire for a good few years before moving on to Byzantium, before they would finally settle on the Western Roman Empire. But every step they moved in this direction forced more and more clans of Germanic individuals into already Roman-controlled territories or formerly controlled territories, as it came with the Angles, Saxons, and Jutes, who were fleeing across the sea to Britain. Really a smart choice when you had to think about it; after all, horse warriors weren't exactly known for their naval tactics, probably would not be able to follow them across the waters.

"Anyways, I just need to show that I know you're 10 years old and they'll get lost, at least for another 6 years. They'll come poking around again then," I summarized. "They're always looking for more soldiers for their army, whatever they call it. It's not a legion anymore; there's definitely not that many troops."

"Unfortunate," I said, which got a look from the knight as he said, "How is that unfortunate?"

"Oh, a legion is a rather powerful tool," I said. "Merlin has shown me its usefulness in conquering this land before. If you could muster a legion to your control, you can probably push back the raiders of the Irish, Picts, and Scots."

"That's true," the knight said with an odd tone. "Although I do think it is good that we are now an independent people, free of Roman rule. I will admit I miss the days without raids, not hearing about the horrors of war spilling across the island."

I nodded my understanding before saying, "Well, perhaps the time of legions is gone, or perhaps it will return. Only time will tell what will happen with the Roman Empire," I said, not letting on that I knew exactly what was happening.

He stopped for a moment before asking a question, "What do you think is happening with the Roman Empire?"

It was so direct; I had nothing else I could say. Stopping and folding my arms behind me, I said, "The Roman Empire is probably going to fall within the next 70 years. It has shown an inability to deal with barbarian encounters, and it seems to only be getting worse as more and more of their territory that once had been ruled by them is broken off by independent Lords who had been brought into fight for them."

"An interesting thought, so the entire Roman empire will just cease to exist in 70 years in your mind?"

I shook my head, thinking, "I believe a portion of it will survive, most likely the Eastern Roman Empire, far away from our lands and never to interfere in our politics again. I believe we will be cut off and have to worry about raiders from the kingdoms in Gaul and the German territories."

"Mhmm, and what do you think about the kingdoms here on the continent? What are their chances?" Father was asking, so might as well give my opinion.

"Well," I said, "remember how I said that Rome was falling because it invited in people to fight for it? The same is happening to the Roman Britains. They will lose their kingdom to German influence, most likely collapsing into several city-states and large kingdom territories that will eventually unite into one formidable kingdom under German leadership."

"And what about your part, the Britain part of the kingdom?"

I smirked before saying, "I doubt they will last. The Irish have already invaded Wales, the Scots and the Picts are invading Northern territories, and with their king unable to produce an heir, I believe they will collapse and be integrated into the realm of Britons. Most likely soon after, the situation will be determined by the Germans. The kingdom will be united, but not under British rule, but by foreign rule that had come to this land."

"The kingdoms of the Britons and the Roman Britains are ruined, headed for death at their own hubris and mistakes. The only way they would survive is if they had a proper king, and from what I see, neither of the current kings is able to be that king."

"Interesting, very interesting," he continued walking and started saying, "I was always planning to ask you a question along those lines a little earlier than I expected, but your assessment is somewhat similar to mine. Only a king can save a ruined country headed for death, a true king. Let's hope one appears in the next few years," he said with a smile, which got me to give him a smile back.

As we approached the house, I saw well, the Britons, the Romans standing there. These were not classical Romans; they were late empire Romans. They weren't wearing red; they weren't wearing purple. They were wearing blue, of all things, not even a good color blue. Their armor was chainmail, not plate. Helmets were simple.

There was one thing, though, about them that stood out amongst all the others. They may not look Roman; they may not bear the colors. They did, though, have the professionalism, standing in lines and holding their shields out in front of them, spears held high, and a look of pride in their eyes. They knew they were probably the last Romans on the island, and they were happy to be here by the looks of it.

Their leader was a young man, by the looks of it. Blonde hair, green-blue eyes, well-maintained looks. I appreciate well-maintained looks. I would note on his armor, Roman in nature, plate mail, not the chain of his soldiers. He stood there with his hands on a short sword, the other on an officer staff.

If I had to make an estimation, there were probably no more than 17.

Father approached and said, "There we are, as you can see, as I told you, my son here is no older than 10."

The individual looked at me curiously before saying, "I thought you had two sons."

"Yes, Kay. He's 13, but you should know that; you have your own records. You had this information, I believe, the last time you did a census here six years back."

The man nodded before saying, "That's true, but our records were in a city that was recently burned by the Saxons. We're having to rebuild our information network, I'm afraid." He shook his head before adding, "Well, as I can see, your son here is 10 and below. I doubt even when he reaches the proper age of 17, he'll be able to serve in the military."

Father shook his head and said in disappointment, "Well, I need every man we can get. If he does decide to join, he is welcome to do so."

Father shook his head, saying, "If you guys are still around in that time, sure. Now, I'm training my sons to be knights of Britain, not to be soldiers of Rome."

The man nodded but said, "True, but Britain is such a small piece of land. Rome is where the empires are, where everything has been built up. You may be able to do more good out there than you can do here."

Father shook his head before saying, "Kid, you're what, 17 yourself? I doubt you know as much about the Roman empires as you think you do. And as far as I'm concerned, my kids are going to be here to do good for the kingdom. It needs it a lot more than whatever is going down in your empire."

The Roman soldier shook his head before finally saying, "This is true. I am new to the legion; the last commander died a few months back, and I got the position thanks to being a son of a former local senator. But just because the empire is not doing well across the sea doesn't mean that we should not be trying to support it."

"If you want to support it, you should probably be trying to work with the people here to prevent the raids I'm used to," which got him to nod his head in agreement. "Of all things, I agree. I've been trying to get high-command to agree for a while now. They refuse unless the Britons, both Roman and not, agree to rulership by Rome. The legion, what's left of it, will not be deployed."

"Well, then you better hope that your higher command gets called back across the sea because you're not going to get anywhere as long as they're making those decisions."

The Roman smiled before saying, "I like you. What is your name? I would like to keep it in mind in case we ever run across each other again in the future."

"Artorias," I said, giving my fake name, which got a chuckle from the man as he said, "Isn't this a small island? My name is Lucius Artorius Castus. The pleasure to meet you, Artorias. Hopefully, we shall meet again one day."

Turning to my father, he gave a nod before saying, "We'll poke around again in 4 years, see if your other son would be interested in joining. Otherwise, good meeting you, Sir Ector."

"Yeah, same to you," Father said, not offering his hand in friendship as the Roman, most likely a Roman Britain by his name, offered his. The man made a shrug before putting his hand down and giving an order to his men, starting the march of the small cohort of Romans away from our little home here on the hill.

Father watched them go before turning to me, saying, "Go find Kay and get to riding. Forget they were here. They're a fallen empire, as you said. Maybe in a few years, they'll realize it."

With a nod, I started heading towards the horse stables.