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

Credits: Dalton Pham

Without waiting for Alaric to respond, Mash had already moved to the rear of the group, facing the four approaching Enforcement Knights alone. Fujimaru Ritsuka dashed off as well, leaving only the sight of her back to Alaric.

It was as if the question had been asked on a whim.

Fujimaru Ritsuka's sudden charge seemed to serve as a signal. The group of refugees began abandoning their belongings one after another, fleeing toward the mountains!

In mere moments, dozens of people rushed past Alaric, heading straight for the desolate hills.

Da Vinci approached Alaric with a slightly serious expression.

"Is that knight in the rear Sir Lancelot, the Knight of the Lake?"

Da Vinci, of course, knew Lancelot well — often regarded as the strongest knight of the Round Table. But it was precisely because of that familiarity that she could imagine how terrifying his strength must be under the Lion King's blessing.

He was likely on par with Gawain. And if that were true, then the combat power of the Lion King's Round Table Knights was enough to make even Da Vinci uneasy.

Upon hearing Lancelot's name, Bedivere stepped forward.

"Even Sir Lancelot is here?"

Bedivere was unaware of how many of the Round Table Knights served under the Lion King. It was only after Alaric mentioned Lancelot that he realized the extent of the situation.

Alaric glanced at Mash and Fujimaru Ritsuka, who were battling the Enforcement Knights, then casually nodded.

"After all, the King summoned all the Round Table Knights. Oh, except for you, Sir Bedivere."

"!"

"All of the Round Table Knights?!"

["All of them?!"]

Roman's shocked voice overlapped with Bedivere's exclamation. Da Vinci, meanwhile, nodded thoughtfully and glanced toward the horizon alongside Alaric.

The immense magical energy reaction was naturally within her perception.

Glancing at the stunned Roman and Bedivere, Alaric continued, "Not quite. Not all the Round Table Knights agreed with the King's ideology. Those who did — Gawain, Agravain, Lancelot, Tristan, and Mordred — stand with the King. The others opposed her."

"To prove her authority, the King killed the dissenters, leaving only the knights you see now."

Alaric spoke calmly as if recounting events he had personally witnessed.

"...!"

Bedivere, however, couldn't ignore the indifferent tone. In his mind's eye, he envisioned an apocalyptic battlefield — the Round Table Knights locked in civil war, their legendary brotherhood shattered.

The massacre of their brethren, carried out to pledge loyalty to the Lion King.

Even after death, even after returning to the mortal plane as Heroic Spirits, the Round Table Knights were compelled — by the King's order — to once again raise their blades against their comrades.

It was utter despair.

Bedivere bit his lip hard, suppressing the urge to cry out.

Hearing Alaric's explanation, Da Vinci's understanding of the Lion King's forces grew clearer. Including Alaric, there were six Round Table Knights, each blessed and enhanced by the Lion King. And above them all was the divine Lion King herself.

As Alaric continued speaking with Da Vinci and the others, Mash and Fujimaru Ritsuka, having defeated the Enforcement Knights, returned.

"We've dealt with the Knights, and all the refugees have fled into the mountains!"

Mash reported quickly, her expression tense.

"But it's too late. Sir Lancelot and his knights — there are more than forty of them," Alaric said with a smile, already spotting the cavalry rapidly approaching from the horizon.

"!"

Mash's expression darkened. The mention of that name stirred a deep unease within her, greater even than the sorrow she had felt for Gawain.

...

At the same time—

"Sir Lancelot, we've spotted the enemy. Should we wait for the third wave to arrive?" asked one of the Knights riding alongside Lancelot.

"No need. We'll charge now. The third wave will split into two groups and encircle the refugees while we engage the enemy. Understood? This is not the King's command. Even Agravain's orders only require us to capture the rebels. There's no need to waste time on the refugees."

"Understood, Sir. But Sir Agravain also ordered that if we failed to complete this task, we wouldn't be allowed back into the Holy City. Honestly—"

Recalling Agravain's instructions, Lancelot sighed.

"Such dull chores, such pointless schemes. Let's finish quickly and return to the Holy City."

"Yes! For the glory of the Lion King, we ride!"

Clang, clang!

The thunderous roar of hooves surged like a tidal wave toward Fujimaru Ritsuka and her group. The knights on horseback exuded a murderous aura so intense that it felt suffocating just to look at them.

"Hey, Sir Lancelot!"

Alaric casually raised a hand in greeting as the figures drew closer.

Lancelot, spotting Alaric, raised an eyebrow.

"Sir Alaric? Sir Agravain mentioned you in his orders. You were sent alone to capture the rebels. Have you succeeded?"

Lancelot's gaze swept over Fujimaru Ritsuka and the others. From their magical signatures, he instantly recognized Fujimaru as a Master. His eyes lingered briefly on Bedivere, but he said nothing.

"You could say that. But I can't bring Chaldea back to the Holy City just yet. I hope you'll bear with me, Sir Lancelot," Alaric said, stopping Mash and Fujimaru Ritsuka, who had tensed up, ready for battle.

The Enforcement Knights began moving to chase the refugees into the mountains. Unnoticed, Da Vinci had already retreated to the Pterygoid Sphinx and was preparing for battle.

"Hmm? Sir Alaric, what are you trying to do?"

Lancelot dismounted, and the other Enforcement Knights, recognizing Alaric, halted.

They knew him well — a fellow Round Table Knight and a man whose strength was terrifying. They had witnessed Alaric spar with Lancelot dozens of times, each time growing stronger.

"Exactly what it sounds like, Sir Lancelot. Sir Agravain's orders were that you could not return to the Holy City unless you captured the rebels. I'm afraid I'll have to inconvenience you," Alaric said, drawing his sword.

Seeing this, Lancelot immediately understood Alaric's intent.

Their half-year together had deepened Lancelot's understanding of Alaric, whom he regarded as a younger brother. Yet, for this very reason—

"What are you doing, Sir Alaric?"

Unaware of the prior conflict in the Holy City, Lancelot unsheathed Arondight, the Unfading Light of the Lake.

The atmosphere grew tense in an instant. A clash between two of the strongest Round Table Knights was about to unfold — one that Fujimaru Ritsuka and the others dared not interfere with.

"It seems Sir Agravain didn't tell you everything about me when he gave you your orders, did he?"

Alaric said, sword in hand, as he advanced toward Lancelot.

Lancelot's brows furrowed. He recalled Agravain's warning not to let Alaric cause trouble and to apprehend him if he disobeyed the King's orders. At the time, Lancelot hadn't understood, but now the pieces were falling into place.

Still, Lancelot didn't ask Alaric for confirmation. He simply stood, waiting for Alaric to close the distance.

Lancelot knew Alaric well enough to understand — if it had come to this, there was no avoiding a fight.

But just as the two knights were about to clash, an enraged voice echoed across the battlefield—

"Sir Lancelot! What are you doing?!"