Blue-Eyes White Dragon: Adopted by the King of Knights [25]

Britannia — Kingdom of Wales, Ector's domain.
At this moment, it had been over a month since the so-called Day of Kingship.

Before knights from all across the land, the girl born with a sacred destiny had finally become the king she had long dreamed of being. Those knights, who had witnessed miracles, were expected to pledge themselves to her cause—calling her name with reverence, riding loyally under her banner, and building a better homeland together…

At least, that’s how Artoria would’ve liked to put it.

But reality was far less inspiring.

Truthfully, nothing much had changed in Artoria’s life at all.

After witnessing the miracle of a covenant formed between god and king, the knights did not react as common folk might have imagined. Most of them didn’t kneel. They simply said nothing—and quietly left the village.

“Just like Kay said… No one wants to live under the rule of a ‘divine emissary.’ And certainly no one wants to be one.”

To the Celts, the Picts hiding in the northern highlands and the Saxons threatening from the southern coast were serious concerns—but to the kings and nobles of Britannia, even the threat of invasion paled in comparison to another threat: the rise of a single king standing above them all.

Foreigners only wanted food and land.
But Artoria? She wanted their authority. Their lives.

What? You say Artoria never intended to rule over them? That her goal was always to unite the warlords and fight Vortigern together, sharing dominion over the island afterward?

No. That future was no longer possible.

Even if that had been her original dream, the moment Kaiba formed the Covenant of the Ideal Kingdom with her, peaceful coexistence with the lords became a fantasy.

“The blessings of the god shall spread only within the king’s ideal realm.”

From that day on, there could be only one true king—Artoria Pendragon.
The others, pretenders seated high on stolen thrones, had two choices:
Bow their heads and swear fealty… or rise in rebellion, and be crushed.

No third path existed.

“So, want to guess what the first one to show up here will choose?”

“Isn’t it obvious? He’ll rebel, of course!”

“I’ll bet a salmon he surrenders.”

“Deal!”

During their free time, Kaiba and Kay made a bet.

Unlike their monarch, who was drowning in duties despite not even having a scrap of territory to her name, the two of them had all the free time in the world—and were happily squandering it.

“Hey, want to guess what Tia’s doing right now?”

“Her? Probably being swarmed by gawkers like some kind of exhibit.”

…

Lately, Artoria had been troubled.

No—extremely troubled.

As a proper king, she should be recruiting allies, expanding her territory, raising her banner and rallying forces to take on the world.

Unfortunately, her dream collapsed right at the first step.

Recruit allies? Here? In the village where she’d spent the past ten years? From the uncles and neighbors who’d watched her grow up?

“Oh hey, if it isn’t little Arthur! Haven’t seen you in a few days, and now you’re king of all Britannia, eh?”

“How about you make me a lord, eh? Remember, I snuck you some honey when you were little!”

“Yeah right. You couldn’t even manage your own livestock, and you want to govern people?”

“But Arthur, I heard you’ve got a really badass dragon…”

The villagers crowded around.

Some were warm, some curious, some outright delusional… Their chatter came all at once, making Artoria’s ahoge droop in misery.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to suffer for long.

Just as the young king stood there, stuck between a smile and a sigh, a stern voice cut through the noise:

“What are you all doing here?”

“You finished all your work already?!”

In the eyes of these villagers, this old man still commanded far more authority than the young king. Before Sir Ector could even raise his riding crop, the crowd scattered like startled birds—leaving behind only a few feathers and the echo of their babble.

“…Sir Ector.”

The girl turned to look at her foster father with deep gratitude in her eyes.

The elderly knight tried to keep his expression stern, wanting to scold her like in the old days—but he couldn’t.

Because he understood now: the girl before him was no longer simply his foster daughter. She was a king.

And a king must carry herself as one.

“Don’t be too lenient with them,” he said, voice gruff but not unkind.

“Treat them like livestock. Use the whip when it’s needed.”

“Also, you’d best not recruit your first followers from here. They know you too well. That’s no good. You need to go somewhere new—start fresh.”

“But you should take that rascal Kay with you. He’s a pain in the neck, sure, but he’s capable—and slick. He’ll make things a hell of a lot easier.”

Sir Ector kept on rambling.

Merlin had told her many of these things before—but somehow, hearing the same words from this old knight gave them a very different weight.

Artoria found herself unexpectedly moved. In her memory, Ector had always seemed sturdy, full of life—but now he looked suddenly so old.

“Ah. One more thing.”

As if something had just occurred to him, Sir Ector led her into what they jokingly called the "treasure vault" of their household.

—In truth, there were only three items inside.

A spear.
A suit of armor.
And a deep blue knight’s cloak.

“The spear and armor aren’t for you,” he said bluntly.

“They’re set aside for that brat.”

“But this cloak’s warm. Take it.”

In a tone that left no room for argument, he fastened the cloak over Artoria’s shoulders himself.

Honestly, it was too big. On her 154-centimeter frame, it looked like someone had thrown a blue quilt over her.

But she accepted it with gratitude.

A knight’s cloak was a symbol of honor—a reward bestowed only upon the most valiant.

That he gave it to her meant he placed his trust in her future.

With that warmth on her back, the young king turned and set out on her journey.

And as he watched her disappear down the road, the old knight—who only moments ago seemed frail and hunched—suddenly straightened his spine.

He lifted his chin, formed a fist with his right hand, and pounded it against his chest.

There was no need to think. The vow had long since been carved into his soul.
The moment his fist struck his heart, the words rose instinctively from deep within him:

“All-Hail-Britannia!”

“All-Hail-Pendragon!”

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This is a fan translation of 综漫：青眼幼龙，被骑士王捡到了 by 歌冰丽月. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!