Chapter 312: A Child

Yu Lin left Morgan's castle as silently as when he arrived.

He did not place any restraints on Morgan, nor did he leave any brief instructions or warnings, as if he truly was just a whim, coming to catch a glimpse of this "good" sister who is crucial in Arthur's life.

He arrived abruptly and left decisively, only causing Morgan to fall into deeper doubt.

She sat desolately in the room all night, her fingertips unconsciously drumming the table, repeatedly pondering the mysterious strongman's intent. Was it a warning not to meddle in Arthur's affairs?

Or was it hinting that Arthur was about to face some huge upheaval, urging her, as a sister, to keep her place?

Her thoughts were chaotic, like tangled silk, unable to make sense of anything.

As dawn approached, she walked to the window, gazing at the horizon where the sunrise gradually tore through the darkness, its golden light dazzling and vibrant, yet unable to dispel the gloom in her heart.

Suddenly, she recalled the child who was sent away right after birth, the infant bearing her and Arthur's tangled bloodline… an indescribable ache and helplessness rose in her heart.

Morgan let out a long sigh, that sigh bearing the heavy destiny and struggle of being a Pandragong.

She finally turned, left the window, her figure melting into the deepening shadows inside the castle, leaving only a whisper as light as a mosquito, laden with complex emotions, fading into the cool morning air:

"Why… I am… of the same bloodline……"

…

Three years later.

Beyond Camelot's Royal Capital, on the vast plain, banners blocked the sun, spears and halberds stood like a forest.

Arthur Pandragong, co-ruler of Britain, stood before the massive army formation.

He wore shining silver armor, a scarlet cloak rustling behind him, and at his waist the complete King's Sword and the recovered Sword Sheath.

The middle‑aged king's authority and battlefield steadiness merged in him; his emerald eyes swept over his troops, filled with unshakable resolve.

Behind him stood the famed Round Table.

Each was a legend capable of standing alone, their armor gleaming in the sun, representing the pinnacle of Britain's martial power.

Especially now the temporary leader Kai, whose every move could drive countless young women and married ladies wild, and who seemed to have satisfied his cravings.

Further back, a neatly arranged, silent killing formation—infantry with long spears, archers bearing bows and crossbows, and cavalry with restless steeds beneath them.

On the Royal Capital's walls and all the heights on both sides of the army, the surging crowds had already engulfed them.

Farmers set down their hoes, craftsmen left their workshops, women cradled children, elders leaned on canes… almost every mobile civilian gathered here.

They made no noise; countless gazes focused on the king, eyes full of unreserved trust, eager expectation, and a hint of worry as they saw off their kin.

When Arthur slowly drew the King's Sword and pointed it toward the heavens, sunlight burst into a dazzling brilliance on the blade.

"For the glory of Britain!"

The king's voice rolled like thunder, echoing across the lands.

"For Britain! Long live Arthur King!!"

In an instant, a mountain‑ and sea‑like roar burst from the army, like thunder on flat ground, making the earth tremble faintly.

This shout merged with the mixed cries and blessings from the crowd on the walls, soaring skyward, as if even the heavens would be shaken!

Arthur turned his horse's head, the sword tip pointing south, toward the massive empire across the sea—Rome!

"Advance!"

The horn blared long, like a dragon's roar, heavy and far.

The army moved like a slowly starting steel torrent, accompanied by thunderous footfalls and hooves, embarking on the expedition.

Dust filled the sky, banners danced wildly in the wind, a majestic, unstoppable aura covering the whole plain.

The army departed.

On the walls.

Yu Lin withdrew his gaze, turned and stepped down from the wall, strolling along the street.

"Young man, fresh roasted lamb, just three copper coins! Want to try some?"

"Alright, ten skewers!"

"Sir, hot honey wine, a cup will warm you through! Only two copper coins!"

"Alright, one cup."

Yu Lin ate while walking; unless something was truly ugly or foul, he accepted everything, and in an instant, people knew a big eater had arrived on the street.

As for the currency.

A few years earlier, Arthur had deliberately sent someone to Rome to learn and bring back knowledge, and after consulting with ministers and nobles, established a new monetary system suited to Britain.

Though it couldn't compare to later eras, it was still better than primitive barter.

Yu Lin swallowed the last fragrant, tender piece of roasted lamb, casually tossed the wooden skewer precisely into the trash bin set by the road. He licked his mouth corner, still unsatisfied, ready to continue exploring the bustling street for the next delicacy—

Swoosh—

A tiny, agile figure like a startled rabbit darted out from a side alley, nearly colliding with a passerby, shouting playfully:

"Come chase me! You clumsy Knight!"

Immediately, another voice followed: "Stop! The great Round Table Knight Order will not let any 'criminal' escape!"

"Watch this!"

With that childish 'battle cry', a branch rough‑shaped into a wooden sword, whistling in the wind, was hurled from the alley, flying straight toward the street center!

The running little figure clearly hadn't expected it; in panic it slammed into Yu Lin's passing leg, yelping, and staggered to the ground.

The flying 'wooden sword' was casually lifted by Yu Lin with a light grip.

The street fell silent for a moment. The two mischievous children—one sitting on the ground clutching his forehead, the other frozen at the alley—stared wide‑eyed at the tall stranger they had unintentionally drawn into their 'adventure', their little faces filled with panic and fear, not daring to breathe.

Yu Lin looked down at the two children, frightened like quails, his face showing not anger but a gentle smile.

He bent, first helping the child on the ground to his feet, patting the dust off him, then returned the 'wooden sword' to the child frozen at the alley:

"Next time you play, be more careful, okay? The street is crowded, very dangerous."

The two children, as if pardoned, nodded repeatedly like chicks pecking grain, in unison: "Mm‑mm! Got it!"

"I'm sorry, sir!"

The boy who threw the wooden sword seemed to be trying to salvage some dignity as a Round Table Knight, and even puffed out his little chest, straining to make his voice sound more formal:

"Future Round Table Knight offers you its most sincere apology!"

Yu Lin's smile deepened; he crouched down, looked eye‑to‑eye with the two children, and nodded, "Hmm, I accept your apology."

His gaze first fell on the boy who had bumped into him first, who seemed a bit more quiet:

"What's your name?"

The boy on the left answered shyly and softly:

"Bei... Beilun!"

Yu Lin nodded, indicating he had remembered.

Then his gaze turned to the boy who kept calling himself a future Round Table Knight, who was still sniffling but trying to adopt a solemn expression, and he asked softly:

"So, what about you? Future Round Table Knight, what's your name?"

The boy inhaled through his nose, mustered all his strength, and shouted loudly and proudly the name that would one day echo across Britain, entwined with endless tragedy and controversy:

"Mo De Lei De!"