The Greece Antagonist

The bloody wilderness lay beneath low-hanging clouds.

The once verdant grassland was now covered with charred marks, turning yellow and desolate. Thick plumes of smoke rose towards the sky, blackening it.

Giant stones launched by catapults were scattered all around.

Twisted corpses of humans, giants, and elves lay around the craters of various sizes, broken long spears, discarded shields, and scattered arrows were also everywhere to be seen.

More than a hundred purification knights searched the soft earth for buried bodies of their comrades, tossing them into the burning pyres.

Under the roasting flames, the faces of the dead gradually twisted, their flesh becoming charred and withered. The wind carried the stench of protein burning, nauseating to inhale.

Faced with this scene, Tristan could only gaze momentarily before closing his eyes in unbearable pain.

The refugees caught in the chaos were not saved, his own forces suffering losses of nearly seventy percent because of this so-called "mercy," leading to an almost entire rout.

These were comrades who admired, trusted, and followed him.

In the end, they all perished because of him.

If he had been decisive enough on the battlefield to abandon that so-called "goodness," all of this could have been avoided.

At the very least, such massive losses would not have occurred.

"Your Majesty, it is my incompetence; please punish me."

Tristan approached, kneeling down before Arthur, his face full of shame.

This battle, he had already lost; he and the remaining knights were surrounded.

He thought he would die on the battlefield, but unexpectedly, at the critical moment, the "incomprehensible" King Arthur arrived, saving him and his remaining subordinates' lives.

But before Altria, atop the horse, could speak, Luo En, who walked to the side, poked his head out and said with a grin:

"Prince, don't rush; the mood is set, so first show some 'talent.' No, show 'mercy,' play a few tunes to send off the fallen warriors?"

Tristan, adept at music and poetry, was nicknamed "the Melancholic Knight," also known as "the Son of Sorrow."

And indeed, his life's circumstances matched this title.

His father, Rivarian, died on the battlefield before he could even meet Tristan. His mother Blancheflor entrusted him to Rivarian's loyal retainer, Roael, and named him Tristan before passing away.

After that, Tristan served his uncle, King Mark, as a knight.

Tristan served his sovereign—his uncle King Mark—faithfully, and this handsome knight enjoyed King Mark's deep trust.

However, one day, Tristan fell in love with a woman named Isode.

No, one should say he unfortunately fell in love.

Tragically, Isode was the beloved of King Mark, who had vowed to marry her as his wife.

Ultimately, King Mark was swayed by courtiers jealous of Tristan, forcing him to leave the court.

This fallen prince then wandered aimlessly, occasionally working as a bard, until he was recruited by Kai, officially changing paths to join the ranks of the Round Table Knights, becoming a vassal to King Arthur Altria.

But bringing up these past events at this moment was like rubbing salt into a wound.

Altria glared at her mischievous teacher, defending her subordinate:

"Merlin, please correct your speech, and do not joke about his talents. Sir Tristan has always been a serious and honest person, his kindness heartfelt. However, this sensibility, too poetic compared to others, is not well-suited for the battlefield and often becomes a chain that binds him."

"But when comforting others, he is always selfless."

"..."

Altria, speechless, gained a new understanding of her teacher's sharp tongue.

Upon hearing his former superior, whom he had once accused, publicly defending him, Tristan felt utterly abashed.

Who says King Arthur doesn't understand human hearts?

This Majesty clearly sees through the depths of every soul.

Only, she understands better than anyone what she wants, what should be done, and what costs must be paid.

This kingly wisdom and human rationality were viewed by him as unworldly indifference, how foolish he was.

Tristan thought of his thoughtless words over the years, feeling even more ashamed.

Heat rising to his head, he raised the Divine Artifact—a shape like both a longbow and a harp—Philnot, towards Altria, imploring:

"King, my ignorance and arrogance have caused grave wrongs; I am no longer worthy of being your knight. Please allow me to take my leave, resigning my position among the Twelve Knights of the Round Table."

In the original King Arthur legend, this prince, slightly weaker than Lancelot in martial prowess, finally left because he could not understand King Arthur's actions.

Yet at this moment, it was his guilt and shame that made him wish to wander alone.

Altria, seeing this, became solemn and said:

"Sir Tristan, if your 'Mercy' is so fragile and weak, breaking down like an ostrich burying its head in the sand due to slight setbacks, giving up halfway, then what you practice is merely self-satisfying hypocrisy. Only by swiftly ending this war, minimizing unnecessary casualties, and unifying Britain can we achieve a truly 'Great Love' in this world!"

Hearing this thunderous voice, Tristan was stunned, waves rising in his mind.

After a long while, he finally realized, kneeling with a remorseful and devout posture before his noble lord:

"King, thank you for your teaching! I will become your sword and shield, to restore the glory of Britain for you!"

This time, his response was firm and sincere.

Altria nodded, her voice losing its seriousness and becoming gentle once more:

"When all the battles end, I hope your strings and voice will no longer play sorrow, instead reveling in the beauty of this world."

"I too look forward to that day."

Tristan responded solemnly, the once melancholic eyes now gleaming with hope and faith.

Immediately, he bid farewell to Altria and returned to the military camp, comforting the injured soldiers, consolidating the troops, and devoting himself wholeheartedly to his work.

With the matter perfectly resolved, Luo En couldn't help but exclaim:

"Your Majesty, having a benevolent and wise saintly monarch like you is truly Britain's good fortune."

"Teacher, you're teasing me again."

Altria was a bit embarrassed, instinctively thinking that her teacher was making fun of her once more.

"This time I'm serious."

A certain professional trickster helplessly clarified and spoke his mind,

"The Twelve Knights of the Round Table are either stubborn, arrogant, or overflowing with sympathy... In short, they each have their own flaws. If they were just mortals, it would be fine, but they possess divine power granted by the heavens; when they lose control, the destructive power is no less than the calamities stirred up by Vortigern. As the King of Knights, you have to restrain them, guide them, and clean up their mess — it's like managing a bunch of unruly kids. It's truly not easy."

Altria heard the concern hidden in these words and felt somewhat moved, yet she also tried hard to defend her subordinates:

"It's not as exaggerated as you say. Although they have some weaknesses in their personalities, they are good people."

Luo En snorted disdainfully at this.

Altria didn't know, but did he not know?

The composition of the Twelve Knights of the Round Table was extremely complex, and almost each one was a top-tier problem child.

From unity to division, the Round Table Knight Order eventually even led King Arthur himself to lose his life; these problem children were indispensable contributors.

And seeing her teacher's disbelief, Altria hurriedly exemplified with arguments:

"Although Sir Tristan's temperament is somewhat soft, he can certainly correct it with this battle and become a pillar of support for the Knight Order."

"He needs others to teach him even on this matter, and even after teaching, he breaks down; this is as far as he'll go."

"What about Sir Lancelot? Her martial skills are unmatched at the Round Table, and she is also a favorable leader."

"Wait until she's willing to obediently follow your orders before you praise her."

"What about Sir Bedivere? He never disobeys my commands."

"But he also doesn't think independently; a mere foolishly loyal person is equally hard to put to great use."

Under Luo En's unapologetic criticism, the previously radiant Knights of the Round Table were overwhelmingly degraded.

As the direct superior, Altria was somewhat unconvinced and pulled out her trump card:

"Then surely Sir Gao Wen qualifies? He possesses extraordinary martial skills, leadership talent, and respects me greatly, even to the point of worship. You have no objections to him, do you?"

"He's the one you should most guard against!"

"Why?"

"Because [worship] is the most distant from [understanding]."

Luo En replied plainly, his gaze profound.

Indeed, Gao Wen harbors ideals, ambitions, abilities, and stands furthest in the Knight's Way, thus developing a nearly fervent faith of worship for Altria, the King of Knights.

But in his eyes, there's only room for the kingly figure of King Arthur as a [deity], devoid of any shadow of Altria as a mortal.

He yearns for this Majesty to lead him into battle repeatedly, winning victories time and again, establishing grand divine business, yet never considers that Altria might feel guilt for the killings, might continually grieve for the passing of life.

Moreover, Gao Wen's character is quite stubborn.

Such a person, once driven to extremes, often leads to greater troubles.

Altria understood the deeper meaning, falling silent.

But soon, her face reemerged with a smile, looking towards her teacher:

"Isn't there still you?"

Though the knightly admirers don't grasp her divine troubles, her teacher has always focused on her growth and happiness as a human.

Upon hearing the sincere reply from his beloved apprentice, Luo En couldn't help but cough, his gaze becoming evasive.

Direct confrontation is a style he is not particularly adept at handling.

Seeing her teacher at a loss, Altria felt a peculiar sense of joy within.

Just as the mentor and student were chatting casually, Bedivere rushed back to the camp.

Altria was somewhat surprised and quickly went up to inquire:

"Why are you back alone? Where's Gao Wen?"

After successfully defeating the rebellious forces in Oxford County and rescuing Tristan and his remnants, she had ordered Bedivere and Gao Wen to lead the pursuit and capitalize on the victory.

Bedivere bowed his head and truthfully explained the reason:

"We chased all the way to the vicinity of Barton Mountain, clearing Oxford County's remnants, then made a new discovery."

"What?"

"There's a new city on the mountaintop, seemingly a recently built nest by Vortigern and his followers, with many places underdeveloped. Sir Gao Wen believes it's vulnerable, and directly launched an attack with the vanguard, claiming he would conquer it solo to clear the last obstacle for you in unifying Britain. I wasn't confident, so I returned alone to report to you."

"..."

After a moment of silence, Altria looked at her teacher with a deep sense of grievance.

Is your mouth truly cursed like a crow's, with good predictions never coming true, while bad ones always do?

"Prepare horses, order all troops and knights to stop resting, and immediately converge toward Barton Mountain!"

Altria quickly issued military orders while decisively mounting a horse, leading a few knights from the Round Table who could keep up, rushing to the scene ahead of time.