King Arthur Won't Die by Accident

The third year of Arthur's reign had arrived.

The progress of the realm and its national strength unfolded exactly as Arthur had anticipated.

Over the years, during the assemblies of British kings, through the proposals of King Leodegrance and several other monarchs Arthur had quietly won over, Arthur had effectively become the leader of the entire British Isles. Though Arthur's direct domain was only Camelot, his orders carried weight across all the isles.

Yes — the whole of Britain.

Even many high-ranking Saxons under the "humble king" had been quietly replaced by Camelot's spies.

Secondly, national strength.

The people's lives were comfortable, well-fed, well-clothed, their wealth abundant. Before Arthur's ascendance three years ago, survival had been the priMerry concern; now, the pursuit of entertainment and richer experiences took precedence.

Indeed, under the wise guidance of the great King Arthur, the citizens of Camelot—living in a paradise on the British Isles—no longer had to fear for their lives.

Even if the Saxons marched on the city today, the people would remain unshaken, confident that such former threats were little more than large groups of insignificant pests.

As long as their great King Arthur wielded his sword, the White Dragon and the Saxons would be obliterated in an instant.

The entire British Isles were filled with weaklings. Only Camelot stood supreme!

Yet now, Arthur sensed a single nagging problem—

It seemed he had inadvertently pushed the level of magical technology too far.

At this pace, would Camelot truly perish one day? Would the Age of Gods vanish entirely?

Arthur was not overconfident. After all, every one of the three legions was armed with ten city-destroying magical turrets. They even possessed super turrets capable of annihilating the entire British Isles in one strike.

And Manaka was developing a superweapon modeled on the Holy Sword of the Star's output—a weapon that could pierce straight through the planet's core.

"Hmm, today's work is done. Kay, do as you please—I'm going to play with Skadi."

Glancing at the rising sun, Arthur stretched lazily, tossing the documents on his desk aside.

By the way, his compulsory remedial program for his subjects had been a smashing success.

The ministers of Camelot had all become like Arthur—working overtime daily. Meanwhile, Arthur's own workload steadily diminished. From days without sleep, he now completed a day's work within two hours of waking, spending the rest of his time idling.

His leisurely, carefree lifestyle was the envy of all.

"My king, have you been getting lazier?" Kay raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Looking at Arthur—unchanged in appearance over these three years, yet refreshed in spirit—Kay couldn't help but feel helpless.

The king had grown livelier, yet strangely less industrious.

"Woo woo woo? Lord Kay, are you dissatisfied with me? You're one of the two most relaxed fellows at the Round Table, yet you complain my workload is too light? Is that fair?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed in a playful smile.

Originally, he had thought he wouldn't live more than five years. But now, at this pace, he felt sure he would become the longest-lived king in British history!

"That's because my duty is to ensure your safety. If I can, I want to contribute everything I can to Camelot," Kay retorted flatly, despite being the second biggest slacker at the Round Table.

"Oh, great. Tomorrow you can switch posts with Gawain."

Kay stared in disbelief.

Do you want to kill me?

He'd just been to Gawain two days ago—he still remembered the knight's bloodshot eyes from staying up late, and the potions Gawain took daily to keep from going bald.

He will die! Definitely!

"…I don't think Gawain's temperament suits this. He won't consider your comfort," Kay said.

"No way! Lord Gawain is the Knight of the Sun. I mostly act during the day anyway." Arthur's grin widened.

Kay coughed awkwardly, looking embarrassed: "I just think your talents would be wasted on such a light workload. Not a complaint."

"You've finally learned to speak, Lord Kay. But as for me, this life is fit for a king."

"Are you joking?" Kay's eyes glazed over.

Even Merlin would be bored stiff... though Merlin would be even more so.

"I'm serious. Only an incompetent king works himself to the bone. A great king watches his subjects busy themselves. I was incompetent before, but now I'm an excellent king. Definitely!"

The other knights in the room erupted in cheers, shouting Arthur's name and praising their great ruler.

Was this too cooperative?

Kay often felt something was off with the guards these days.

But for Arthur, it was convenient.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop joking. I'm going to go play!"

With that, Arthur casually tossed the Sword of the Kingchooseer to a nearby knight and strode out.

"Wait, you useless guy!" Kay twitched his eyes and grabbed Arthur's collar.

Impulsive as always, Arthur paid the price.

Swords were drawn instantly, knights with artificial holy swords bristling with magic power surrounded them.

If Kay pushed too far, the Camelot office might explode today.

Arthur had expected this and turned with a teasing smile.

"Is there something else, Lord Kay?"

"The military potion His Highness Morgan le Fay developed will begin testing today. You're invited to watch. You forgot."

Kay gritted his teeth.

Before, he feared Arthur might die suddenly.

Now, he feared Arthur would die of boredom.

What a twist.

"Hmm, wasn't the test subject Sir Lancelot?" Arthur shuddered.

It wasn't Lancelot himself he feared.

Though Lancelot's attitude was strange, there was no doubt he was Arthur's absolute supporter.

But if both husband and wife were his fanatical supporters willing to do anything for Arthur's survival, that was a bit terrifying.

If Guinevere found out Arthur planned to watch Lancelot's experiment privately, she'd probably crawl in to join.

Every time he saw that couple, Arthur felt overwhelmed and dizzy.

"Sorry, that's all. Lord Kay, this one's on you. Please apologize to the queen for me—I'm feeling unwell."

Arthur's pale face was a convincing act.

But how could Arthur, blessed by the national faith, truly fall ill?

Just then, the door opened.

"Little Arthur, your sister is here to see you."

"…Oh no, it's over."

-End Chapter-

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