King Arthur Won't Die by Accident

Using disguise, deception, and inducement, the British kings surrendered to King Arthur.

Although from the kings' perspective, Arthur's methods were hardly honorable, seeing the outcome, they could only smile bitterly and realize how naive they had been.

The kingdoms had long been locked in endless war; the so-called alliances were just shifting brutal slaughter from open battlefields to cruel, secret conflicts. The kings who failed to grasp this from the start had already lost.

The loss wasn't unfair—but at least, on the surface, they remained kings.

Because Arthur was distant, he couldn't exert direct control over them. Weak oversight meant the kings retained their power in name, if not in reality.

The officials Camelot sent were no match for the kings in their own lands. Only tribes adjacent to Camelot faced real pressure.

At first, the kings relaxed, thinking this situation was tolerable.

But two months later, panic set in.

They had severely underestimated Arthur's appetite for control.

Having claimed the territories, Camelot had no reason to leave them unmanaged. Food was rationed monthly by population—neither too much nor too little—and grain fields were tightly controlled, forcing the kings to remain dependent on Camelot. Local power and military forces were strictly limited; no king could command more than a hundred soldiers.

The armies were severed from the kings' authority and placed under Camelot's direct jurisdiction.

What could be more absurd than a king cut off from his own army in his own domain?

If this continued, the kings' chance to overturn their fate would vanish.

What awaited them was Camelot's systematic liquidation of certain noble factions.

Win one group over, suppress another, and eliminate yet another.

Anyone suspected of loyalty to local royal families faced certain death.

Of course, Camelot had a name for this:

The Creed organization under Agravain was a incubus to nobles everywhere—pervasive, omnipresent, invisible. You never knew if your bedmate would betray your secrets in the next breath.

So many things happened out of the public eye, and every noble lived with this fear.

During this purge, a shocking secret emerged about an old nobleman and a king—once wise and virtuous figures—who were now bound in a scandalous relationship. The king had called the nobleman "dad," and shockingly, so had the king's three daughters and two sons.

Ah, what a mess—

When Arthur heard this, he was dumbfounded.

Your circle is so chaotic, you clearly know how to have fun.

Unsurprisingly, the king became the laughingstock of all Britain.

But who among the kings could guarantee such a scandal wouldn't touch them? Which noble could swear unwavering loyalty?

For a time, everyone lived in dread.

"That's true. Don't report boring things to me."

Arthur glanced at a document in his hand, a faint smile curling his lips.

There was no good news inside, but compared to the other reports piling up, it seemed almost trivial.

"My king, this is Merry's report," Kay reminded him kindly.

Kay wanted to strangle Merry eight hundred times, but knew it wouldn't solve anything. Yet he understood her aim.

"She probably sent these just to make you smile. Ever since the kings surrendered, you've been swamped."

"Really?" Arthur blinked, surprised. "I think it's a lot easier now."

He tossed the papers aside. They floated down and neatly stacked atop another mountain of documents in a corner.

"You should take a break."

"No, I'm fine."

"But you haven't slept for twenty-three days, have you?"

"Eh! So exaggerated?"

Arthur had been working nonstop for over three weeks straight. Even if Manaka had tried, he'd have died by now. Only Merry and Merlin, with their incubus demon blood, could keep up.

People's faith in Arthur was odd.

"The king's talent exceeds even the gods'. He never tires, no matter how hard he works." Such worship granted Arthur a strange kind of stamina.

Tristan was to blame for the rise of this weird cult.

"Still, this is a critical moment. Even if I wanted rest, I can't."

Arthur smiled bitterly.

To strengthen control over the regions, Camelot had dispatched many ministers. As their holdings expanded rapidly, the workload surged to an insane level.

Arthur had to personally step up and return to his former relentless pace.

Even the two useless girls, Merry and Merlin, were forced to work under Arthur's orders.

Work or die—choose one.

"It doesn't matter. We've almost crushed all noble factions that needed crushing. Next up: the kings. They've submitted, yes, but I never said they could keep their crowns."

Public opinion was fickle.

A scattered alliance of interests wasn't dangerous—they agreed only on certain goals, but held varied ideas and values.

Such a group was fragile and disunited.

However, if one person emerged to amplify their own will, infecting others until ideas unified, public opinion became lethal.

The fall of mighty empires often began from within.

Therefore, to truly unite the British Isles—once home to many kings—Arthur needed to spread his will to every corner.

At that moment, the kings' wills were competitors and obstacles.

So the kings had to disappear.

No royal family other than Pendragon could exist on the British Isles.

"Sir Kay, now more than ever, we must not be careless. Britain is just a corner of the chessboard. We, the kings, every city and tribe—these are all chess pieces. This victory was luck, and the real game has only just begun."

-End Chapter-

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