Chapter 78: Assassination

Chapter 78: Assassination

[You and Artoria are still writing your own legend.]

[The two swords of victory, Excalibur Galatine and Excalibur, blessed by the sun and the moon, are displaying the majesty of holy swords across the lands of Britannia.]

[You are invincible, victorious in every battle.]

["Shadow of the King of Knights" has been upgraded to "Shadow of the King of Knights+": Your glory has not been completely overshadowed by Artoria; everyone still remembers the image of you wielding Excalibur Galatine to pierce through enemies.]

[You are destined to leave a profound mark in the history of Britannia.]

[After a great victory, a knight appears before you and Artoria.]

[You sense something is off about him but choose not to speak.]

"This time, Sir Ian, you should go speak with him," Artoria says, standing beside Ian.

"Is that alright?"

"It's fine," Artoria shakes her head. "If they say you're my shadow, then the shadow should have tasks that a shadow must do, right?"

"..."

Ian says nothing further.

At Artoria's request, he approaches the strange knight and begins a conversation.

"Who are you?"

"Palamedes."

"Why are you here?"

"I admire King Arthur."

[Your life experiences far exceed the imagination of ordinary people.]

[You immediately realize that Palamedes, a tall man with brown skin, is lying.]

[But looking into Palamedes' eyes, you decide not to expose his lie.]

[You sense that his intentions are simple and straightforward.]

"I see."

Ian extends his hand toward Palamedes.

"Welcome to Camelot."

Seeing the hand stretched out before him, Palamedes looks surprised.

He hesitates for a moment before speaking:

"Aren't you going to ask me anything else?"

"There's nothing to ask."

Ian looks at the man in front of him with an expressionless face.

"The past cannot be changed; the future still holds choices."

"The path you take is for you to decide."

"..."

Palamedes remains silent for a while.

Finally, he shakes Ian's hand.

"I understand."

"Then, let me fight for Camelot."

What Palamedes does not know is this:

If he had rejected those words just now,

Excalibur Galatine would have pierced his heart instantly.

The shadowy knight spares no mercy in eliminating all potential threats.

[You have fully understood Palamedes' intentions.]

[You know he is a knight from Saracen who, due to his obsession with challenging powerful opponents, is considered a heretic by his own father, King Esclabor.]

[He requested to fight against you.]

["Gift of Red Dragon+" has been activated: With Artoria's mana power, you easily defeated Palamedes.]

[He was astonished by your strength.]

[He now regards you as an opponent he must overcome.]

[You don't care about that.]

[Because you know this has almost completely drawn Palamedes to your side.]

[To you, this is clearly the best possible outcome.]

[Artoria witnessed everything as well.]

[She was delighted.]

Late that same night.

The king's armor lay scattered haphazardly on the ground, while a girl draped in the royal cloak moved rhythmically atop the man's body.

Certainly.

What she was doing was not an act befitting her status.

This wasn't something the girl herself initiated, but rather a deliberate signal from Ian.

Without the armor beneath, the royal cloak held little significance.

All the knight could see was the girl's snow-white skin and trembling waist.

The cloak wrapped around her body was merely an adornment, adding to her embarrassment.

"Good—"

Feeling the heat intensify, the girl lifted her head, her eyes wide open but her hand covering her mouth.

Clearly.

The first sin of the night had bloomed within her.

Ian reached out, gently stroking Artoria's long blonde hair.

"Such an exquisite expression."

"The feeling keeps getting better."

"..."

Hearing these words of encouragement, Artoria felt deeply ashamed.

Pleasing the one she loved in this way had seemingly become a part of her life.

This was evidently an extremely humiliating act—as a king, she found herself fulfilling the desires of a knight.

But—

To Artoria, this was the only way to experience the life she felt she truly deserved.

Her pleasure, perhaps, stemmed from this shallow notion.

Ian, of course, understood this.

A scoundrel like him naturally wouldn't let such an opportunity slip by.

"Sir Ian."

Artoria nestled against the man's chest, still wrapped in the royal cloak.

"To be alone with you like this is such a blessing."

"So, although it might seem a bit greedy…"

"But—"

Blushing, Artoria grabbed Ian's robe.

"I want to leave more marks."

"Isn't that only natural?"

Ian put his hand inside her robe.

"Good job, why only once?"

The girl's lips were kissed;

And her whole body was treated in a despicable way.

But she still felt incredibly happy.

[You have increased Artoria's corruption level.]

[When you are together, even your gaze can make her start to feel wet.]

[Of course, this doesn't affect your performance on the battlefield.]

[On the contrary, thanks to this deep mutual understanding, you have achieved more outstanding military feats.]

[Your reputation is rising steadily.]

[This reputation is spreading not only across Britannia but also affecting France on the coastline.]

[It is said that there is a very powerful knight, who is trying to find you.]

[But you do not care about such matters.]

[After all, his goal is still far away.]

["The heart of absolute devotion" has been replaced with "Battle Continuation": You are very persistent with your goal, and before achieving it, you will never fall due to any injury.]

[You and Artoria continue to expand your battlefield.]

[You sense that, perhaps in the near future, you will definitely have to face Vortigern directly.]

[But before that happens, something has interrupted your progress.]

At the camp.

The knights, full of spirit, were undergoing military training.

Each of them was filled with a strong determination to win.

Under the training of Percival and Palamedes, this determination was maximized.

This is the absolute elite of Camelot.

And they were right before them.

Ian and Artoria were walking side by side.

They slowly walked past the knights, receiving their gazes.

"Sir Ian."

Artoria lowered her voice and spoke in a tone only Ian could hear.

"Have you heard the rumors that the knights have been discussing lately?"

"You mean the rumor about the night assassin?"

"Yes," Artoria nodded, "They say an assassin will attack us at night."

"Sir Ian, what do you think?"

Ian smiled faintly.

"That's nonsense."

"If there really is an assassin daring to attack us at night, he must have overestimated his own abilities."

"Rather than believing that this is true, I think this is a rumor spread by the enemy to disturb our troops' morale."

Although Ian and Artoria's relationship at night would become something shameful, Artoria knew that he was not the type of person who only had fool thoughts in his mind.

With his battlefield experience, his ability to think was no less than hers.

"Disturbing the morale of the army?" Artoria nodded thoughtfully.

"Sir Ian, your words make sense."

"Then if that's the case—"

"Should we just pretend we haven't heard this rumor?"

Ian shook his head.

"No."

"If we act like nothing has happened, the knights will think we are complacent and arrogant."

"Therefore, paying attention is still necessary."

"Right."

Artoria grasped her Sword of Promised Victory.

"Then—"

"We just need to increase our vigilance a little."

After saying this, Artoria suddenly realized something.

"Sir Ian, if that's the case—"

"Could I officially call you to my tent at night?"

"Eh?"

The girl, always straightforward and unreserved, had the most obvious longing in her eyes.

[Artoria has ordered an increase in the night patrols.]

[At the same time, she has officially invited you to her tent.]

[She has ordered that no one else is allowed in — this is your private time.]

[However, due to the influence of the rumors, neither of you has done anything excessive.]

[You only reminded her of how to make a good cup of wine.]

Artoria had fallen asleep.

But Ian did not.

He hid everything from her, cleaned up all traces, and stepped outside.

The bright moonlight bathed the campground, covering everything with a thin white veil.

The knights had started to nod off.

Ian did not wake them — after all, they had been on patrol like this for nearly half a month.

The supposed assassin, who was said to strike under the moonlight, had yet to act.

The fatigue was understandable.

Could it really just be a rumor?

Though Ian thought this, he knew he absolutely couldn't take it lightly.

After all, if it were true, and they weren't prepared, the situation would be much harder to handle.

One night passed.

Everything remained the same.

The tent flap was gently lifted, and the girl quietly walked up to Ian.

Taking advantage of his inattention, she stood behind him and covered his eyes.

"Guess who I am?"

"Too difficult, I can't guess."

"Sir Ian, you're pretending."

"Then what, are you going to punish me?"

"Umu——!"

Artoria grabbed Ian's hand.

"Punish you by making you come with me to the riverbank to wash your face!"

[You and Artoria have reached the riverbank.]

[This is the closest river to the camp, where the knights usually come in the early morning to clean up.]

The girl sat on a stone by the river.

In her formal attire, she now radiated a regal aura, like a king.

Of course, all of this to Ian was now just a source of embarrassment, perhaps even accompanied by a hint of desire.

"It's so nice to be here by the river with Sir Ian."

"Sir Ian——"

Artoria's eyes shone brightly like stars.

She looked up at him beside her.

"You think so too, don't you?"

"..."

Ian didn't remain silent for long.

"Yeah." He nodded, "It really is a pleasant experience."

"Then, if that's the case——"

Artoria grasped Ian's hand.

"Sir Ian, if you want to 'enjoy' me in the morning… you can come here with me."

Perhaps she knew her words were too bold. After saying that, she immediately lowered her head.

But her expression wasn't one of embarrassment. On the contrary, there was a bit of anticipation after confessing her thoughts.

Ian was about to respond when a rooster crowed from afar.

It was a sign of dawn, the sun was about to rise over Britannia.

But at that moment.

Ian suddenly felt a gaze directed at them from behind.

He didn't know whose eyes they were, but because of that gaze, he suddenly understood the question he couldn't answer earlier in the camp.

The rumor, would it come true?

This depended on the purpose of the one who spread the rumor.

Not all rumors need to come true to have an effect.

Often, confusion itself is the goal.

When the announcement of a night attack was made, the knights naturally couldn't stay idle.

And that activity would eventually turn into physical exhaustion.

When everyone was deep in fatigue, the final goal of the rumor had been achieved.

Based on this logic—

The moment the assassin struck would be when the exhaustion had not yet been alleviated, the body in its worst condition at dawn!

And now, they were exposed to that danger.

It was too late.

The time to realize this was far too late.

The distance between the person with the gaze and the two of them was closing rapidly at a speed beyond imagination.

This was not something an ordinary person could do, but rather a feat involving Magecraft.

It was a figure dressed entirely in black, the face completely concealed.

In his hand, he held a sharp sword emitting a vicious curse.

The eyes that were hidden could only focus on Arthur, who was smiling like a flower, completely ignoring who the man standing before her was

On the other side.

All of Artoria's attention was on the person she loved, and she was completely unaware of the assassin attacking her under the protection of Magecraft.

This was an action that both the assassin and the victim were unaware of.

Only Ian, standing between the two, was fully aware.

But he couldn't warn her, not even shout.

The only thing he could do was act instinctively — to protect her right in front of him.

The sharp knife stabbed into the man's back, then pierced through to the other side.

Blood splattered, flowing onto Artoria's face.

The man's eyes widened as he stared at the girl in front of him.

In that instant, Ian, who should have been the most despicable, stood like a true knight in front of Artoria, the one called the king.