Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King's Personal Knight

Credits: Nitorxs

"Still, Sir Tristan, you're sharp—you've noticed me already."

 Seeing that Tristan had recognized his identity, Alaric no longer concealed himself. He let go of his breath-masking technique and removed his cloak.

"Once again, Sir Alaric. When will you stop with this unnecessary compassion?"

 Tristan's fingers rested on the string of his enchanted bow, his expression filled with sorrow.

"Everything must be done for the plan of the Lion King. There is no retreat. Yet you've crossed the line again—"

Before Tristan could finish, he pulled the string.

This time, the slash didn't come from the front—it came from all directions, suddenly manifesting around Alaric!

Alaric watched as fine threads spread around him, forming a web that enveloped a hundred-meter radius. As Tristan pulled the string, the slashes issued were without blind spots—an all-encompassing blade of death sweeping across the earth!

Puchi!!

 The sound of flesh being torn echoed, followed by a surge of crimson blood pouring forth like a fountain, dyeing the earth red.

The sound of heavy objects hitting the ground reached Alaric's ears, but he paid no heed.

His pale, gold-slit pupils focused only on Tristan's figure—

"Be careful!!"

A strange male voice called out. Bedivere, attempting to save the people of the Holy Land, found himself forced into self-preservation amidst the seemingly endless slashes.

"Do you think I've crossed the line, Sir Tristan—"

Zziiii!

 A flash of black lightning streaked past Alaric's face, his emotionless question ringing out from behind Tristan.

'!'

Tristan's expression shifted in surprise. He instinctively turned around.

Boom!

But as Tristan turned to face Alaric, he had already gathered his strength!

With his right arm drawn back like a crescent moon, Alaric fixed his emotionless gaze on Tristan—and threw a punch.

In that instant, Tristan, sensing danger, opened his eyes wide in shock. Alaric's fist crashed into his chest with devastating force!

The air erupted with a deafening roar.

The sheer power, comparable to that of a dragon, burst forth, shattering Tristan's armor and sending him flying like a cannonball into the distance!

A rolling shockwave swept through both sides, like thunder!

With one punch, Alaric sent Tristan flying. He turned his head to survey the blood-soaked hellscape and the now-vanished Bedivere.

'?'

Alaric searched the surroundings but found no sign of Bedivere. He confirmed that Bedivere had disappeared with the refugees—and that they had been slaughtered by Tristan, alongside Hassan of Intoxicated Smoke.

"Senpai, no one survived—"

At that moment, Mash and the others arrived at the battlefield, stunned by the carnage before them.

"Let's go quickly before Tristan comes back!"

Alaric spoke first, not giving Fujimaru or the others a chance to respond.

Though saddened by the deaths of the people of the Holy Land, Fujimaru and the others didn't linger. They quickly left the scene and continued eastward.

...

Aboard the Pterygoid Sphinx.

"Sir Alaric?"

Mash, unable to bear witnessing the scene, hesitated before asking, "Why didn't you save them?"

Alaric's power was more than enough to protect these people from Tristan's attacks, and there were other Servants present.

Yet Alaric didn't act. Mash couldn't understand, nor could Fujimaru.

"Was it because you lacked the necessary equipment?"

Fujimaru asked.

"Or because you used Mash's shield, limiting your strength and making it impossible to save them?"

"It's useless. If it was just me, maybe it could have worked. But Tristan's target wasn't something I could take away," Alaric shook his head and explained.

"They never had a chance to survive from the start. The people of the Mountain Tribe are caught between the Sun King and the Lion King, locked in a three-way struggle. But the strength of the Mountain Tribe is insufficient against the Lion King's knights. It only results in massacres like this."

"And they are all rejects. Tristan treats the rejects this way."

At this moment, Alaric's coldness was fully revealed to Fujimaru and the others. His indifference to life made Mash feel a sense of fear.

The reaction from the Servant inside Mash also made her instinctively uneasy.

The usually calm Da Vinci stared at Alaric and asked, "Sir Alaric, I hope you can tell us the truth. Is the Lion King actually King Arthur Pendragon?"

Having suspected the Lion King's identity, Da Vinci, upon hearing Alaric mention Tristan's true name, was now certain. The Lion King's true identity was very likely King Arthur Pendragon!

"That's about right. As expected, you're sharp, Miss Da Vinci. You figured it out."

Alaric didn't hide it any longer and replied openly, "King Arthur Pendragon, who became the Lion King, wiped out the Crusaders occupying the Holy Land of Jerusalem and summoned the Knights of the Round Table. She's carrying out a massive cleansing of this singularity."

"She made a non-aggression pact with the Sun King, while the Mountain Tribe is a local force resisting both the Lion King and the Sun King."

["Eh? King Arthur?! A Servant?"]

Roman's astonished voice echoed as his virtual screen appeared.

["And how did King Arthur summon Servants?"]

Even though Alaric had revealed the Lion King's true identity, it only confused Roman more.

["And the dragon's blood in you—this comes from King Arthur, right? King Arthur has the legend of the Red Dragon of Britain, a fantasy dragon species comparable to the King of the Fomorians, Vortigern."]

"That's correct, though I don't know why the king gave me dragon blood."

Realizing he couldn't hide it further, Alaric answered straightforwardly.

"Anything else before we reach our destination?"

"What did you mean by 'rejects'?"

Da Vinci seemed particularly concerned about the term.

"There's only rejection when there's selection. What is the Lion King screening for?"

"The Holy Selection is coming in half a month. You'll see," Alaric said, estimating the timing. The Holy Selection was about to begin.

Except for the first selection, which he conducted, the subsequent ones would be handled by Gawain.

"These are the people of the Holy Land heading to the Holy Capital. The Lion King doesn't refuse the entry of foreign races. After the Holy Selection, those who pass will be welcomed into the Holy Capital—"

Alaric pointed toward the distant figures.

Camelot: The Holy Capital

["Impressive—what a magnificent fortress. This is the center of the age, the domain of the Holy Land!"]

Roman exclaimed in awe.

"It's like a world-isolating wall of chalk... So, that's the Holy Capital?"

Mash expressed her surprise at the sight of the endless white wall.

"And it gathers quite a few people—nearly a thousand," Da Vinci said, scanning the camp outside Camelot and quickly estimating the numbers.

These were refugees who had walked from all over, their homes destroyed by the Crusaders. This world was no longer fit for living.

This newly reborn Holy Land had naturally become their ideal sanctuary.

"That's the Holy Capital—the pure white ideal homeland, the city of chalk: Camelot. The king resides in the tower at the end of the central path," Alaric said calmly, staring at the visible tower. The king seated within was already casting her gaze downward.

He could feel it.

With the growth of his dragon heart and the expansion of his existence, Alaric felt an inexplicable connection to the Lion King—a reciprocal causal link.

Not only could the Lion King sense Alaric's approach, but Alaric could also sense the Lion King.