Chapter Forty-Nine: The King’s Burden

Camelot's great hall was bustling with activity, its circular table surrounded by representatives from the cities and territories that now made up the New United Kingdom. The network of alliances Arthur had worked so hard to forge was expanding daily, with warlords and settlements pledging their allegiance at an unprecedented pace.

Arthur sat at the head of the table, Excalibur resting against his chair. Maps, reports, and dispatches cluttered the surface before him, each one a testament to the enormity of their progress—and the weight of responsibility it brought.

Lumina leaned over the table, her glow dimmed by fatigue. "Manchester, Birmingham, Leeds... and now Sheffield and Nottingham are onboard. That's five major regions in as many weeks."

"And more every day," Echo added, flipping through a stack of correspondence. "This is bigger than anything we imagined."

Arthur nodded, his expression unreadable. "It is progress. But progress brings challenges."

The demands on Camelot's resources grew as the New United Kingdom expanded. Roads needed rebuilding, food supplies redistributed, and disputes mediated between regions with long-standing rivalries.

Arthur spent his days and nights in constant motion—meeting with leaders, addressing the people, and coordinating the Vanguard's efforts to maintain order.

One evening, Alora found him alone in the great hall, staring at the map of Britain. His shoulders were hunched, the light of the setting sun casting long shadows across his face.

"You should rest," she said softly, stepping into the room.

Arthur didn't turn. "There is no time. Every day brings new challenges, new demands."

"And every day, you carry them alone," Alora said, her voice firm. "You have us, Arthur. Let us help."

He turned to her, his expression weary but resolute. "I cannot burden you with what only I can bear."

Later that night, Arthur stood on the balcony of Camelot, gazing out at the growing city below. The lights of new settlements dotted the horizon, a testament to the rapid growth of the New United Kingdom.

Christopher joined him, a cigarette dangling from his lips. "Not a bad view, eh?"

Arthur chuckled softly. "It is... remarkable. And yet, I cannot help but wonder."

"Wonder what?" Christopher asked, exhaling a plume of smoke.

Arthur's gaze didn't waver. "If I am building something that will endure—or merely delaying the inevitable collapse."

Christopher smirked. "Mate, you're overthinking it. You're doing more good than this country's seen in decades. That's got to count for something."

Arthur turned to him, his expression thoughtful. "And when they are gone? When all of you are gone, and I remain? What then?"

Christopher's smirk faded, replaced by a rare moment of sincerity. "You'll keep going. Because that's what you do. That's what makes you... you."

As the New United Kingdom grew, cracks began to show. Some regions resisted the centralised authority of Camelot, demanding greater autonomy. Others struggled to integrate with their neighbours, old grudges and prejudices resurfacing.

The Vanguard worked tirelessly to mediate conflicts and maintain order, but the strain on their resources and unity was evident.

"Every victory brings another challenge," Swift Angel said during a council meeting. "At this rate, we'll stretch ourselves too thin."

"We don't have a choice," Lumina countered. "If we stop now, the momentum will collapse, and everything we've built will fall apart."

Arthur listened in silence, his expression betraying none of his inner turmoil. When the debate subsided, he spoke with quiet authority. "We will not falter. We will adapt, grow stronger, and face each challenge as it comes. This is the price of unity."

Arthur's immortality became a growing source of unease among his allies. Some saw him as a symbol of hope, while others viewed him with suspicion and fear.

During a visit to a newly allied settlement, a child approached Arthur, wide-eyed and curious. "Are you really going to live forever?" the boy asked.

Arthur knelt, his voice gentle. "So I am told."

"Doesn't that get lonely?" the child asked.

Arthur smiled faintly, ruffling the boy's hair. "It does. But it also gives me the chance to make sure people like you have a future worth living for."

One night, Alora found Arthur in the gardens, sitting among the wildflowers that had grown untouched. Elusona slept in her arms, her small hands clutching a strand of Alora's hair.

Arthur looked up as they approached, his expression softening.

"You're not alone, Arthur," Alora said, sitting beside him. "We may not share your immortality, but we share your purpose."

Arthur gazed at her, his voice quiet. "You give me strength, Alora. All of you. But I fear that one day, when you are gone, I will lose sight of that purpose."

"Then hold onto it now," she replied. "Let it anchor you, even when the world changes around you."

Arthur nodded, his gaze shifting to Elusona. "And her? What of her role in this?"

"She's our future," Alora said simply. "And you're the one who will ensure it's bright."

As the New United Kingdom continued to grow, Arthur's resolve deepened. The weight of immortality remained, but the bonds he shared with his allies and the dream of unity gave him purpose.

Standing atop Camelot's walls, he gazed out at the horizon, his voice a whisper carried by the wind. "If this is my burden to bear, so be it. For as long as I stand, I will fight for this kingdom. For its people. For its future."