Era of Heroic Spirits: I Was Exposed by Alaya

Brilliant sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the two Knights of the Round Table.

"My potatoes are that bad?"

Gawain, hearing her words, instantly grew flustered and indignant.

He had worked so hard to satisfy the King's legendary appetite, and now this brat dared to call his cooking terrible!

He grumbled resentfully, "Back then, the King always ate more of my potatoes than I did myself!"

"Well? Are you taking the bet or not?"

Mordred sprawled lazily, legs crossed, radiating absolute certainty of victory.

"Alright, if it's true, how many days are you prepared to eat?"

Gawain, basking in the sunlight, asked without hesitation.

"Oh, let's make this clear first—no regrets allowed!"

Mordred's eyes lit up.

Now this was a conversation worth staying awake for.

After some thought, she proposed their wager: "How about a year? If the nameless heroic spirit exists, I'll eat your mashed potatoes for a whole year!"

"Deal. If the nameless heroic spirit doesn't exist, I'll take on all your duties for a year!"

Gawain drew [Excalibur Galatine] and unhesitatingly sealed the bet.

As the Knight of the Sun.

I, Gawain, am invincible under the sun!

"Hahaha, perfect! Gawain, you're doomed to lose!"

Mordred's grin widened.

This was an absolute win—how could she possibly lose with such an advantage?

The mere thought of not having to deal with endless official duties for an entire year made her so excited she could almost fly.

This was going to be amazing!

Invincible Gawain, prepare to fall before me!

"Damn it, is my potato dish really that bad?"

Gawain couldn't help but ask again as he watched the gleeful troublemaker.

"Yeah, it's really awful!"

A third voice chimed in.

"No way..."

Gawain instinctively wanted to refute, but when he turned his head, he saw a familiar figure.

Adorned with a resplendent golden crown, her striking figure—ample where it mattered—was boldly outlined beneath a cloak as thick as a quilt.

Her saintly blue eyes regarded him with mild puzzlement, as if questioning why the Knight of the Sun would lie.

"My King!"

Gawain quickly dropped to one knee in realization.

But a gentle force stopped him.

"No need for formalities. It's the 21st century now—we don't need as many rituals as before."

The King waved her hand dismissively, signaling for them to carry on.

She herself fixed her gaze on the video.

On the screen.

A petite, youthful figure struggled slightly as she lifted a weapon to train.

As she watched, the King's emerald-like saintly blue eyes shifted from nostalgia to deep confusion, then to thoughtful contemplation.

Finally, they settled into a dazed stare...

Nearby.

Mordred stole glances at her expression, sensing something slightly off about her father.

What was going on?

She began watching the video more intently.

After seeing the small figure clad in armor appear.

Mordred discreetly compared her to the King's own proportions.

Hmm, definitely not the same!

The video continued—

-["The Perfect King"? If it's not King Arthur, I'll livestream eating a cactus!]

-[Hey, you up there—don't you dare run! I've got my eye on you!]

-[King Arthur doesn't understand human hearts (×) King Arthur never had them to begin with (√)]

-[So, who exactly is this UP master Alaya? Is King Arthur going to publicly confirm the video's authenticity too?]

...

"Eh, so this little boy is King Arthur?"

Illya asked curiously.

Countless comments were adamantly claiming the figure was King Arthur.

But.

No matter how she looked at it, the person seemed more like an adorable little boy.

"That should be King Arthur."

Roya nodded and began explaining.

King Arthur—much like Jeanne d'Arc—was one of her favorite heroic spirits.

She had long memorized all the relevant details.

Born to be king, yet arriving in the world as a girl, she was destined to lose her right to the throne.

As a child, to avoid public attention, she was sent at the age of five to live in the household of the old knight Sir Ector.

Upon growing up, she concealed her gender and was crowned king.

But historically, King Arthur knew her foster brother [Kay], not this nameless heroic spirit.

History truly is unreliable!

Since Jeanne d'Arc publicly acknowledged the authenticity of the first video, Roya had grown increasingly distrustful of history.

She couldn't shake the feeling that the familiar history she knew was hiding some enormous secret.

In the video:

As the Roman Empire declined into decay, the British Isles, once under its rule, descended into civil war.

King Uther was defeated by the Vile King, and the entire land of Britain was engulfed in the flames of war.

Countless people were displaced, and countless deserters turned into bandits, wantonly plundering and slaughtering the common folk.

A petite and youthful Artoria watched in fury as knights rampaged in the distance: "Stop! You don't deserve to be called knights!"

These men, who enjoyed the offerings of their fiefdoms and were revered as knights, were supposed to protect the people of their lands.

Instead, they had joined the ranks of bandits, pillaging their own territories without restraint!

"Hahaha, but we are knights!"

Several men rode forward on horseback, their leader sneering as he spoke. "These peasants dared to withhold their wealth and women from us—they deserve to die!"

"That's right! These lowly commoners should kneel in worship and offer up all their riches, for we are the noble and glorious knights!"

The remaining cavalry burst into raucous laughter.

Slung across their saddles were all manner of plundered treasures.

Among them was a beautiful woman, bound and weeping, struggling desperately to escape.

"You wretch! Being chosen by this knight is an honor! Now die!"

The knight had completely lost patience. Drawing his sword, he beheaded her in one stroke.

Thud!

The woman's head hit the ground, kicking up swirls of dust.

The young Artoria took several steps back, staring blankly at the scene.

The cruel, blood-soaked era of war was unfolding before her eyes with brutal indifference.

"Thank goodness I live in the 21st century!"

Roya's face instantly paled as she watched, her small hands clutching tightly at her chest.

The sheer brutality of the scene had shocked her to the core.

Taking a deep breath, she said solemnly, "Now I finally understand why King Arthur held herself to such strict chivalric codes—why she strove to become the perfect knight among knights, the ideal sovereign!"

It was precisely because she had witnessed such horrors that she resolved to become a paragon of knighthood, a protector of her homeland.

Beside her, Illya also turned pale and averted her gaze. "An era this brutal... it truly needed a king to rise up and end it."

"So... where are you, Nameless Knight?"

Roya peeked through her fingers at the screen.

The pillaging and slaughter continued unabated.

The young King Arthur tried to stop the knights but was powerless against them.

Her interference only enraged them further.

One black-armored knight sneered coldly, "You brat! Think you can stop me? I'll chop off your limbs first and see if you keep running your mouth!"

"You don't deserve to call yourselves knights! A true knight brings smiles to people's faces—protects the innocent, not plunders and kills them!"

Even in the face of death, the young girl stood her ground.

The stubborn ahoge atop her head stood upright, as if condemning their actions.

"Hah! Bring them smiles? Why should I, with all my power, protect these weaklings?"

The black-armored knight laughed wildly, and the others joined in.

Before these merciless knights, the young girl seemed utterly helpless—so vulnerable it made one's heart ache to hold her.

Tap, tap...

Footsteps approached from the distance.

A stranger suddenly appeared, positioning himself between the knights and the young girl.

His crimson cloak billowed dramatically behind him, putting the knights instantly on edge. "Who are you?"

"If you refuse to protect, then you have no right to call yourselves knights."

The man looked at them as if they were already dead. "In my eyes... you're the weak ones."

***

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