Chapter 301

The next morning, at dawn, outside the gates of the Royal Capital was already a sea of people.

People poured out of their homes early, farmers put down their hoes, artisans put away their tools, women and children supported the elderly and led the young; everyone spontaneously gathered along the roadside, looking forward.

The air was filled with a mix of anticipation, excitement, and the sense of witnessing history, an excited feeling.

Murmurs and discussions rose and fell like tides, and everyone's eyes were fixed on the road leading into the distance.

"He eliminated the man-eating demons and saved my cousin's village!"

"If it weren't for him driving away those water bandits, our caravan would have been done for..."

"The prince chosen by the Stone Sword is finally coming back today!"

On every simple face was written admiration and longing for the young prince who had traveled far and rid the people of harm.

They longed for a ruler who could bring peace and hope, and Arthur's actions over the past year or more let them see a glimmer of light.

"He's here! He's here!"

Someone shouted excitedly, and instantly everyone's eyes turned toward the end of the road.

On the horizon, a troop slowly appeared, outlining clear silhouettes in the morning light.

Leading them, a man rode a divine white horse, his posture upright, his golden short hair shining in the sunrise, his wheat-colored skin showing toughness and health—this was Arthur Pandragong.

And slightly behind him to the side, unexpectedly following was Duke Bosite!

This duke, famed for his strength and ambition, now quietly followed behind Arthur's horse, and the dozens of elite retainers he brought also fell in line orderly at the rear of the procession.

The crowd first burst into a huge cheer, then upon seeing Bosite, an uncontrollable murmur of surprise rose.

Duke Bosite isn't… an opponent?

The procession stopped before the city gate. Arthur swiftly dismounted, and Bosite and his retainers followed closely, their movements neat and uniform.

They said nothing more; Arthur merely glanced calmly at the tall gate, then stepped forward first, walking into the city.

Bosite followed closely at his side, silent.

The crowd spontaneously parted to make a path.

Cheers rose again, even more fervent than before, as people thronged along both sides of the road, eager to catch a glimpse of the prince's bearing, while also casting curious and probing looks at Bosite's appearance.

The procession moved silently and resolutely through the sea of cheers, heading straight for the towering Royal Palace at the city's center.

The flow of people followed them like tributaries merging into a great river, vast and mighty.

And before the palace's grand staircase, other great nobles led by Lord Ruirike had already been waiting.

They wore their most solemn attire, with varied expressions—calm, complex, contemplative.

When they saw Bosite walking shoulder to shoulder with Arthur, even subtly showing a guard's posture, many eyes flashed with shock and disbelief that could not be concealed.

Bosite's change of stance was undoubtedly a heavy hammer striking the hearts of all nobles still hesitating.

Arthur's steps were steady as he climbed the stairs leading to the palace.

Bosite always kept half a step behind him at his side.

Just as Arthur was about to step through the palace gates symbolizing supreme power, Bosite suddenly halted.

That stop drew everyone's gaze.

Under countless gazes of astonishment, doubt, and expectation, this duke who once held sway over a region and even plotted to assassinate Arthur suddenly turned, facing the endless crowd below the steps and the nobles beside him with varied expressions.

He performed an action that would be unforgettable to all—

He stretched out both hands, then knelt on one knee, solemnly and with utmost reverence, lifted Arthur's right hand gripping the Stone Sword, and then raised that sword-bearing arm high above his head!

Sunlight struck the Stone Sword, reflecting a dazzling brilliance that also illuminated Bosite's face.

He sank his qi to his dantian, his voice like a great bell, echoing across the entire palace square:

"I—Bosite! I swear by my family's honor and bloodline!"

He rose to his feet, his gaze sweeping over all the nobles below, finally resting on Arthur's face, his voice rising higher:

"I have personally witnessed his mercy—facing enemies, he spares lives beneath his sword, granting dignity to the defeated!"

"I have personally felt his strength—a power and realm I could never attain in a lifetime!"

"I am even more deeply convinced by his bearing and breadth of mind—that is the true aura of a king!"

He drew a deep breath, using a voice that seemed able to rend the heavens, to proclaim to the world:

"Here, I, on behalf of the entire Bosite family, offer Arthur Pandragong our eternal loyalty and submission!"

"He alone is the Destiny's chosen! He alone is the one and only true king of Britain!!"

"Arthur King!!"

That shout was like igniting the final fuse.

After a brief silence, Lord Ruirike led the way by bowing in salute.

"Arthur King!"

Immediately after, like toppling dominoes, all the nobles present, regardless of any lingering doubt, bowed their noble heads before this unstoppable tide.

And the people in the square, already ignited by this shocking scene, released their pent-up emotions like a volcanic eruption, earth-shaking cheers shooting to the heavens, gathering into a unified, world-shaking sound:

"Arthur King!!"

Amid the earth-shaking cheers and the gazes of submission, Arthur Pandragong, the prince tempered by trials, was finally about to step onto his destined throne.

Inside the palace.

Merlin had long stood still before the throne, clad in a deep blue robe studded with stars, holding an object covered by a thick dark-purple velvet cloth, its true form hidden from view.

As Arthur entered the great hall surrounded by the nobles, Merlin slightly turned aside, clearing the path to the throne.

Arthur's gaze met Merlin's for a moment, seeing in his eyes deep expectation and silent encouragement.

He hesitated not, walking step by step toward the throne carved of ancient oak and ivory, laid with a deep-red velvet cushion, then turned and sat down firmly.

At the moment he settled, Merlin stepped forward one pace, standing before the throne, facing Arthur.

He slowly lifted the dark-purple velvet cloth.

A streak of brilliant golden light poured forth!

Under the velvet lay a crown.

It was not extravagantly luxurious, but full of ancient simplicity, dignity, and a sense of power.

The golden crown was inlaid with several gems as deep as dragon eyes, its shape subtly echoing a dragon's head, symbolizing the Pandragong family's dragon bloodline.

It lay there quietly, yet seemed to gather the weight of all Britain.

Merlin lifted the heavy crown with both hands, his voice echoing in the silent Great Hall:

"Arthur Pandragong."

"You, have you made ready——"

"Ready to bear this land's fate, protect the welfare of all your subjects, practice justice and mercy, and for this devote all you have, becoming Britain's true ruler?"

Arthur raised his head; his green eyes no longer held doubt or hesitation, only the steadfastness of a rock.

His voice likewise rang through the Great Hall:

"Yes, I have made ready."

No lengthy declaration, no ornate words, yet this simple answer weighed heavier than any oath.

Merlin's face showed a relieved expression.

He spoke no more, solemnly placing the crown that symbolized supreme authority and responsibility steadily and properly upon Arthur's golden hair.

At the moment the crown was placed, it seemed as if invisible ripples spread, and an indescribable dignity and aura naturally emanated from Arthur.

Merlin having completed this historic step, slowly turned, facing the nobles in the Great Hall holding their breath, and the door that seemed to hear the cheers of countless people outside the palace.

He said: "The coronation is accomplished."

"The new king has been established!"