Chapter 36: Aura Farming On A Horse

.The next day, the news that all the nobles in Camelot were robbed by the rebels lurking in the city spread to every corner of the holy city. Without exception, those rebels were the leaders of the knights who were originally friendly with the nobles.

"Fortunately", these rebels were wiped out by the knight Menachel.

"Who would believe such a reason?" Artoria sighed softly, looking at Menachel who seemed to be seeking praise in front of her, and said unhappily: "Next time when you make up a lie, please think of a normal and self-consistent lie."

"They just want us to give a reason, and even if the reason is reasonable, they will still be suspicious."

Although Menachel was not defending himself, he still felt an inexplicable sense of guilt – he could already foresee that the rebellion that had just been quelled would be set off again.

I kind of regret my impulsive behavior.

Artoria stopped talking and pouted as if she was upset. After sitting quietly for a while, the girl seemed to have just thought of something and continued to ask, "Were all the family members of those nobles killed?"

Even without listening carefully, Menachel could easily hear the hesitation in Artoria's voice – even though she became a king, the girl was still the same girl after all.

However, the king cannot have thoughts of mercy.

With this in mind, Menachere spoke up to shatter Artoria's fantasy: "I kiiled them all, including their guards, wives, and children. I didn't spare any of them. I asked Merlin to set the fire in case something happens."

Menachel's voice was calm. To him, the disappearance of these lives had no reality. The biggest difference between these strangers and the monsters in the utopia was that they had no appetite for their own kind.

"I see."

The light in the girl's eyes seemed to dim, which made Menachel start to blame himself for his extreme words just now, but he knew that lying at this time was useless. Those beautiful illusions woven by lies would only cause greater harm to the owner of the dream when he woke up.

"If there's nothing else, I'll leave first."

But he couldn't bear to see Artoria so depressed. He left first, wanting to end the party tonight and give Artoria some time to relax. But before he could stand up, Artoria called out to him:

"Menachel, wait."

The girl's voice regained some of its vitality, but one could still hear that she was trying to be calm. Menachel stopped getting up and waited for Artoria's next words.

If these are childish and innocent words, let them end here.

"Those knight orders that have lost their leaders will probably be handed over to you temporarily. There are very few people in Camelot that I can trust. Teacher Merlin will definitely not agree to it, so after thinking about it, only you are the most suitable."

"Why?"

Menachel was stunned. He didn't expect that Artoria would explain important matters in a serious manner.

"But if a rebellion breaks out, it will probably be you alone… I don't think I'll be able to leave Camelot any time soon."

Menachel understood this very well. After all, compared to his momentary pleasure, the consequences that Artoria had to bear were very troublesome – it seemed a bit strange to say this.

"Leave it to me. This is my duty." Menachel nodded, as if thinking of the girl in his memory who was looking forward to the future. A rare gentle arc appeared on the corner of Menachel's mouth: "I will help you build your ideal country."

Artoria avoided Menachel's gaze at this moment. She felt deep affection from Menachel's eyes, but she didn't know how to respond to this feeling. So the girl could only say stiffly: "I'm just a little sorry that I just declared that you would be my personal guard."

"It can be considered that the merits and demerits offset each other."

Menachel did not notice the change in Artoria's mood and he continued to joke around.

But he never imagined that his casual remark could actually become a plausible excuse.

Just the day after the night talk, Menachel was temporarily assigned to a knight group as the temporary leader for his contribution in "suppressing the rebellion", and Lanmarok and others who were brought with him were promoted along with him.

Menachel could not remember the specific names of the people, but judging from their looks, they were all former guards of Artoria. The girl's intention to control the military power in one fell swoop was obvious, which made the incident of "rebels massacring nobles" even more untenable.

But all this was left to Artoria to worry about. At this time, Menachel, led by a one-armed knight, had successfully found the knights who were temporarily assigned to his command.

"I just didn't expect you to be my deputy."

Menachel looked at Lanmarok, who was wearing white armor and a silver helmet beside him. Menachel did not hide his disgust – perhaps he was just jealous that Lanmarok came riding a white horse.

"This is the king's will."

Lanmarok, who seemed to wear a helmet all year round, jumped off the white horse's back nimbly. He took the reins and the white horse immediately rubbed his cold hand guard docilely.

Minachel, who had thought that Lanmarok would at least retort a few words, felt a little bored by Lanmarok's serious answer. He turned his gaze to the obedient white horse and took a few steps closer.

As if being targeted by some high-level predator, the originally quiet and obedient horse twisted its head angrily when Menachel turned his gaze towards it, and its continuous snorting surprised its owner, Lanmarok.

"What did you do with it?"

The huge force from the reins in his hand made Lanmarok realize the seriousness of the matter, and he immediately turned around and questioned Minashel.

Menachel was also a little at a loss, but being curious, he had some other ideas at this moment.

He stretched out a hand as if wanting to touch the horse's head, and decided to just kill it – it seemed like he had never eaten horse meat before.

A strange thought, or an almost instinctive thought, emerged in Menachel's mind. His pupils gradually dilated, clearly reflecting the white horse's expression at the moment, which was a pleasant thrill for the dragon.

But before his hand got close, Lanmarok slapped it away. Menachel turned his head and met Lanmarok's angry eyes, which he could still feel even through the helmet.

His human emotions immediately returned, and Menachel closed his eyes tightly and calmed himself down a little. Just as he was about to apologize for his rude behavior, he suddenly heard a muffled "puff" sound.

The white horse bent Its four hooves and fell to its knees on the ground, as if it was under some invisible pressure.

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