Well, hello again everyone! Thanks for your continued support and likes/favorites/follows/reviews!
Continuing on from the last AN, what an Olympic event we have. Legends, heartbreak, tears, controversies, it had everything for us to gobble up in the social media. To be honest, my country didn't have a full TV license from the IOC, so I couldn't watch it as freely as I used to, but well, times move on. I hope you enjoy this story even more than the Olympics!
Once again, I have read some of your reviews claiming confusion for the storyline. About this, I have to apologize for not being able to cater to your demands straight away, because I based it on actual Arthurian popular legends. I implore all of you to read it up, at least to gain some insight into the timeline, but of course most of that will be interposed with OCs and rules from the Nasuverse. The story will unfold eventually, but now isn't the right time or momentum to do so. To put it simply, read and follow me until the end!
Now, read, review, and follow!
[Ah, you arrived safely, Galehaut. Peace to you.]
"Ha... do not belittle me with that tone, Nimue. I am more than capable of protecting myself."
In a separate space from the World, two beings are peacefully conversing. At least, that's what it appears on the surface.
Judging from the stature, one of them is a man. Covered in a long shroud, it does little to cover his tall and lanky frame. A hood masks his face with shadows, though his opponent knows exactly how he looks like, so it's a futile exercise. It's of most use outside, in the normal world with normal people, so they won't faint from looking at the horrifying predator who've slaughtered hundreds in just a few short years.
A 'demon' in a false sense, Galehaut glides forward towards Nimue.
As humanity grows, so does its culture and expectations. They requires a higher being to worship, a commander to follow, and a set of rules to obey. With the 'order', as always, then comes the 'chaos' necessary to balance it. Unconsciously, humanity yearns for this 'chaos', just to have something to fight against, to produce a pleasing emotion when they repel it.
From the wishes of humans for an antagonist in their lives, the 'imaginary demon' is born.
Similar to Conceptual Weapons and higher beings birthed from the prayers of humans for 'protection', 'glory', 'love', and so on, so does an imaginary demon fulfills the human minds' wish for something to take away their pain and suffering. A symbol, in a sense, to construct a solid expression in which they can struggle and triumph against.
According to that process, Galehaut is born as a 'villain' against Arthur Pendragon.
How does one can easily become a hero? It's a question many have asked and desired to know the answer, yet the method is all very simple: be famous for doing a good deed against evil.
As a young ruler, Altria needs a boost in popularity with the masses. She's already famous for the young man able to pull out and wield the Sword in the Stone, but her fame is limited to those in attendance, namely, the knights and mercenaries who bother to attend. She requires something to propel her name across the lands, preferably a large-scale event in which she can cast herself as a force of good.
Having accumulated wealth and competent companions, all she needs is an opponent.
However, Galehaut's birth is in no way connected to Altria's rise in strength.
The people of Britain has a dream, buried deep inside their hearts, unable to get out during the tough times of chaos. A dream of peaceful times... A dream of glory... A dream for a champion to fight for them, prophesied by a legend spread by Merlin. A legend of Britain's Once and Future King, who'll lead them out of the dark times to an everlasting utopia on earth.
It's this ardent prayer which indirectly shapes Galehaut, born as a talented man who rose as a warlord commanding the entire northern part of the island. Powerful and cunning, he swiftly gathered loyal followers and wealth, giving himself an incredible advantage over Altria's young reign. By all accounts, the difference in their military strength was so vast it should've been a walkover for Galehaut.
Inevitably, as in any stories with a happy ending, he was destined to lose. However, it wasn't due to some outside interference from a powerful third part or bad luck. The problem was much more fundamental, coming from within Galehaut himself.
Inherently, imaginary demons are beings susceptible to human wishes. They receive the pain and suffering from humans, and in exchange, lends them otherworldly powers. The demons have a naturally affable and noble personalities, holding the concept of 'equivalent exchange' very highly. It's this character flaw which was the downfall of Galehaut.
Mesmerized by Altria's and the Knights' skills and leadership, he opted to peacefully surrender to her, merging his considerable influence to her meager one. There was some outrage, of course, but he used his demonic abilities to quiet the unrest and seamlessly integrate his forces with the King's.
It was that moment when he struck a great friendship with the shining talent Lancelot.
[Fufufu, that boy is running around well...] Nimue chuckles darkly. Noticing Galehaut's glare, she smiles, [Don't be such a spoilsport, Galehaut! Is it not you who wished for him to achieve greater things? Rejoice!]
"Greater things, yes, but not this... this madness! What have you done?!"
He spats the sentence with fury, but he makes no hostile movements with his body. There exists an insurmountable gap between their powers, and Nimue has authority similar, if not more, than the Phantasmal Beasts as one part of the Queen of Faeries. Challenging her is foolhardy, but he decides to tread the waters with words for the sake of his good friend.
[Well...] Nimue playfully replies, her tone clearly unfocused and full of jokes. [You wished for him to 'move ahead in life', if I recall correctly? Now, he has every opportunity to be king! He has the ability, the soldiers I prepared in Corbenic, so isn't my actions soooooo kind? Fufufu, you may express your gratitude later, Galehaut.]
Seductively, her tendrils sways about due to habit. Her mocking tone simply stokes the flames of anger inside him, but he forces himself to calm down.
"Tch... don't count on that," he roughly replies.
[How crude...] Nimue places a palm on her cheek, creating an expression of fake pain. [In any case, are your forces ready? The timetable is moving forward quite rapidly now, much more than I predicted, since that homunculus has begun to move as well.]
He groans.
"Yeah, they're prepared. But this is the first time I heard of this... homunculus, you say? Will it be a problem?"
She smiles.
[Hmm... please refer the homunculus as a 'she', since it's a female model, or someone will be angry at me... Ah! In any case, even if your forces are defeated, I still have you, right? I'm sure a single person won't be a problem to you, no?]
Tired of this fake banter, he turns around and starts his preparation to leave without replying to the teasing tone. However, right before he departs, he cranes his neck slightly to look at her, steel in his voice.
"They will all die. I give you my word."
With that, he disappears.
[Fufufu... I'm sure you will, foolish demon...]
The space is filled with mocking laughter, one a human may make when he or she sees a pig struggling on its way to the slaughterhouse.
Altria calmly scans the documents placed on her table, with only the ticking of Merlin-made clock accompanies her. She had to order him to shut off the annoying alarm which blares every single hour, a feature likely implemented on purpose to annoy her, but as a table decoration, it's a beautiful, intricate piece, and useful as well. Sound of papers shuffling then resounds in the quiet study, giving a metronomic feel to the place.
Her instincts immediately reacts to a shift in the air, where Merlin appears all of a sudden.
His expression is grim, and his usually-concealed eyes now shine bright violet. Her body involuntarily tenses to the incoming important news. Lately, Merlin has toned down his teasing and pranks, much to the relief of the occupants of the castle, but it's only due to the increasingly chaotic condition of her Kingdom. It's nothing major, but the small incidents still wears her down in their resolution.
On the plus side, at least the maids will no longer get suddenly pregnant, or the squire boys finding themselves waking up with a pair of female breasts.
She extends her palm, granting him permission to report.
"My barrier array detected a cluster of movements just southeast of the island, along with some preparations up north. They triggered at almost the same time, so perfectly in harmony in each other... No way it's just a coincidence."
She closes her eyes to think momentarily.
"North... the Celts? Why now? There is no resistance when we built the walls and the villages there. Some of our people have even mingled with them... The Saxons I understand, but how did they come into contact without our knowledge?"
She keeps pondering ideas after ideas in a small voice, with Merlin patiently waiting for her to finish. Clearly, he has already formed a conclusion, but he decides against serving everything in a silver platter to his young charge. It's a good learning experience, even now, a few years into her reign.
After a few minutes, a glint of realization comes into her eyes.
"Is it... the 'unknown factor' you mentioned a few times in our meetings? So the two forces has an intermediary, in a sense. Have you come to the same conclusion?"
He nods happily.
"Spot on, Altria. However, I bring further updates regarding that party... perhaps one you may get angry at."
The last phrase alarms her. For a long time now, she has suppressed her emotions in order to be as impartial as possible, to give birth to a system of justice to govern the people. It works, and her Kingdom flourishes better than ever. There's been a few rumors going on recently about how people are dissatisfied with her iron rule, but with the lack of evidence, she can't act on that information. Eventually, the action becomes a habit, so for Merlin to claim the news will cause her to break her composure is a thrill.
"Go on," she says cautiously.
He inhales a deep breath, creating a sense of drama he so loves.
"First off, that... entity, let's call it that, yes. The entity may be responsible for Lancelot's recent actions."
Instantly, her chair's arm is pulverized by her grip.
Merlin snaps his head nearer towards her, his eyes shining bright violet and staring into her own. Immediately, her grip loosens, and she exhales a big gulp of air.
She wearily speaks, "Thank you for that, Merlin. I needed it."
"Always, Altria."
Settling into a chair, he asks, "Can I continue?"
"Please do."
"I've investigated Corbenic, and the case doesn't look good or clear enough for me to point my finger at a culprit. Fisher and his daughter had to have a part to play, but I'm still not sure whether they're involved directly or indirectly. One of the prime suspects I have, though, is Fisher's court magus, Dame Brusen."
He puts his hand into one of his pockets, then throws a fistful of powder into the air between their faces. The powder glitters under the candle lights, spreading into a thin screen which flickers into life. On it, a neat arrangement of pictures and written paragraphs are shown, like a floating piece of report on parchment.
The picture shows a relatively beautiful but otherwise unremarkable woman with brown hair and eyes. Brusen's data is shown alongside the picture neatly, greatly enhancing reading comfort. Compared to parchment, this viewing Magecraft is far easier to work with... if only everyone else can use it. A few of Merlin's apprentices may be able to do it, but all of them are spread throughout the Kingdom doing various tasks and researches.
He expands the screen before continuing.
"Her movements these past years have been strange, almost... almost as if her life can be separated into two chapters: the one before and the one after five years ago. I talked with her families and colleagues, and yet none of them can point out any difference in her behavior. Yet, the her before five years ago made hundreds of political moves to secure her position now, and right before she receive the position of official court magi, she threw it all away to be the Princess's chambermaid and assistant.
"Of course, with her predecessor passing away two years later, you can argue she's just positioning herself to usurp the position or outright take it by assassinating the previous court magus. However, she never officially took the position, only serving Fisher in an unofficial capacity... a consultant, if you will. It made no different regarding her relationship with him, but her political power is now far weaker than what could have been.
"This switch in ambition happened so fast and so drastically it couldn't be a natural progression of the human mind. I looked further, yet I couldn't find any more leads on her. But there's been an interesting development regarding Fisher and Elaine's personality and history, and some digging unearthed a problem they never reported to us."
Altria narrows her eyes. "I assume Fisher knows full well the penalties regarding neglect of duty, no? He is not a brash and stupid ruler, so why...?"
"That's my point," he insists. "Everything they did were so inconsistent with what was reported by their acquaintances, I suspected the one we call 'entity' previously was pulling some strings behind our backs. The thing he didn't report was the matter of his daughter being cursed by Morgan, supposedly, when she was undercover as Brusen's predecessor..."
"'Supposedly'?" Altria asks, raising one eyebrow.
"Again, another inconsistency." Merlin swipes his hand in the air, changing the information displayed on the screen. "You know Morgan as well as I do, my King, and do you think she's someone who'll peacefully sit back after cursing someone to spent eternity inside a bath of boiling water, and did so in the open? It doesn't make sense, given she never liked to be in the spotlight. How could Fisher conclude it's Morgan's doing, if she even did it in the first place?"
Altria closes her eyes in deep thought.
"An impersonator, then? Is it the same one who's pulling Brusen's strings?"
"Perhaps, but I'm not too sure. I have a hypothesis, but it still needs more evidence from my students. I should be able to compile a comprehensive conclusion in time for the next meeting."
She chuckles. "It seems we are meeting more and more often these days."
"It's a chaotic time, after all," Merlin smiles weakly, a rare show of gentleness from him. "We need constant communication the most in these times."
She leans back, tension leaving her shoulders.
"Well, we have to make a move, sooner or later. I have stationed Lamorak and Tristan to the east in the first place... so can you back up Kay to the north?"
"That's spreading it too thin, don't you think?"
"We need some more time, at least to formulate a clear spearhead against that third party."
He hums in approval. "Casting a net?"
She nods. "I am not mobilizing all the Knights for a simple reason, after all."
"What worries me most is their personalities," he sighs. "Let's hope they don't trip each other up and punch a hole in the defense line."
Reluctantly, she agrees. Creating an elite group solely based on talent is bound to create friction between the members. Each of them are skilled, far better than anyone else in the Kingdom or the Roman Empire, and they all have their own pride regarding their strength. Pride is a necessary item to have inside their minds, for only their pride will keep them going and fighting against the odds, achieving miraculous feats of arms. As such, she doesn't ban them from disagreeing with each other, but she has to play headmaster, in a sense, to keep them in line with the Kingdom's direction for the future.
"Speaking of which, what of your disciples? You haven't informed me of their precise deployment."
He lifts both his palms up in resignation. "No, no, it'd be better if their locations are unknown to anyone... and even I don't know their precise locations, only their tasks, so I can somewhat divine what they're doing. Most of them are shadowing the Knights, operating within a few miles from each other, and a few are working on this case we're worried about."
"I see," Altria says reluctantly. "You seem to trust them very much."
Her tone is somewhat suspicious, in a good sense. As a king, she has to know every single thing happening inside the Kingdom, and having tens of magi moving about without anyone's knowledge, even if they're chasing after the same goal, doesn't rest well with her. She already has bad experiences with a magus's sense of logic and desires, and those rarely go hand-in-hand with the general masses' well-being and prosperity.
"They're my cute students, after all."
She narrows her eyes, but Merlin doesn't yield. Accepting she won't get anything more from him, she changes the topic to something lighter.
"What about Vivian? You always talk about her."
At the mention of that name, Merlin shifts uncomfortably. Vivian is talented, perhaps the most out of his students, and the unofficial heir to him. Altria isn't sure if he'll eventually pass on his Crest to her, but with each passing day, the notion seems more and more likely. The girl is polite and reserved, but the King hasn't conversed with her enough to know her better. As always, she keeps everyone at arms' length, so a mere disciple won't be able to meet with her often in the first place.
Taken in from Vivian's father, the king of Northumberland, she's a skilled huntress and magus, combining her both her crafts into a devastating combination. Altria prefers to use her, through Merlin as a stealth vanguard to lead an attack to her enemies' backs. Her record is impeccable, and Altria has a hunch Merlin favors her not only as a student, but also as a woman.
Such relationship is viewed as a tabboo in this era, almost to the point of comparing it to a parent-child incestuous relationship. Understandably, under the King's intense gaze, Merlin's body language becomes nervous. He knows Altria won't judge him like others do, but she does have her own set of morals, and even if she knows his desires regarding Vivian, it's still not a good idea to openly admit his feelings.
Or... It's more like Altria knows this court magus of hers often thinks with his lower member only in regards of the opposite sex. There's been many cases when she has to settle the issues with the female's family quietly to avoid a ruckus with Merlin. He's competent, make no mistake, but once in a while she feels like castrating him with Avalon's blunt part, just to make it the most painful experience for him.
Awkwardly, he says, "Well... she's following Lancelot's trail."
Her eyes widen in surprise.
"Ah... then, I think we can leave it to her."
"Yes."
Rising from his seat, he turns around.
"Then, I'll take my leave, Your Majesty."
"You are dismissed."
"This is the end. Surrender."
Such a cold voice is stating the obvious to me.
One shot...
Just one shot I made to avoid Bedivere getting pummeled to death, piercing straight through Lancelot's arm by surpassing the sound barrier. From this far out, my presence won't be detected by either of them, since the attack was completely soundless and without killing intent. With this, Lancelot would get distracted and allow Bedivere to even the odds.
Or, at least, that's the plan.
My Pure Eyes and Reinforcement are brilliant trackers of things, but I have to admit, against this kind of Magecraft, I'm still lacking defense in this area.
Using a spatial-transference Magecraft, these people managed to teleport themselves around me, surrounding me with hostile intentions.
The person talking earlier is a woman, judging from her voice. The group contains 5 people including the woman, all dressed in uniform clothes, a thick veil over their faces, and wide-brimmed hats. This way, any enemy they encounter will have trouble differentiating them, preventing memorization of their patterns and habits.
Rather, their spell-detection range is very impressive. I can't detect anything from ten miles out, so their range must be much further than that. Granted, from that distance, even I'm not that accurate, so my effective range is about... half that, I guess? But not receiving any kind of reaction at all is embarrassing, especially since I take pride in my eyesight and nose.
Too bad their disguise means nothing in front of this very Eyes.
The woman... Vivian, is it? I distinctly remember her face from reading Merlin's records, and his number one student being here doesn't bode well for my stealth. The other four aren't chumps either; the three male and one female each possessing considerable strength, judging from the quality of their Prana. Vivian has the biggest and the densest, colored violet in my Eyes and smelled distinctly of lavenders, a trait I attribute to her teacher's moniker of 'Magus of Flowers'.
In any sense, there's no way I'll obediently follow her orders, right?
Her mouth moves in a very slow motion, a result from me accelerating my thoughts to a near-critical rate. A useful technique to use under duress; it's a replication of those alchemists from Atlas with their Memory Partition along with Thought Acceleration. How should I handle this situation? For sure, escape is my biggest priority, but an escape is only useful if the enemy gains virtually no information from myself. An escape orchestrated against five highly-trained magi will inevitably reveal some of my techniques, so that option is already flawed in the first place.
And then... how lethal should I be? Killing them all is the best option if I want to conceal my cards... No, no. My own heart will never accept such acts, and surrendering just as she said will be preferable than taking the life from innocents...
Oh, right... they're magi, for crying out loud! No way they're innocent...
No, no, killing is bad. Bad. No killing.
Then, how about negotiating? I now know more about them than they do about me, after a few moments longer to fully Trace their equipment's history, so I roughly know how to play my words just right. Magi favors the concept of 'equivalent exchange', so if I can subtly lead them to a barter system which is beneficial to me, all will be good.
Knocking them out non-lethally is also an option. It'd be difficult to manipulate their memories, and I'm sure Merlin would be able to reverse whatever I did to them, since my talents in that particular area is horrid. Leaving without doing so will bring me back to the first problem, no different than escaping without engaging them.
Well, let's start with a smile, shall we? A good impression is vital after all... Or rather, it depends on the person, isn't it? Some of the other Vessels can't smile at all, so when they do, humans usually run away frightened or think they're having a constipation.
Ah, let's hope my smile isn't that bad. Mordred likes it, so it should be fine.
I smile.
"I'm afraid I can't comply, miss. Perhaps we can resolve this with a mere warning?"
One of the male magus snickers. His name is... McGregor, is it? Middle age, specializes in alchemical metallurgy. He's quite experienced, but his specialty is a bad match against me, so he shouldn't pose much of a threat.
He says arrogantly, "There's your warning already. Now, stand still and-"
"Ah, I don't mean your earlier command," I cut his speech abruptly. "I mean... my warning to you."
Vivian waves her arm, stopping her comrades from immediately attacking. Really, these magi are very easy to rile up, their stupid pride always taking center stage rather than the bigger picture. They're fortunate to have such a sensible leader among them, although her tense body language serves also as a warning to me.
Through the shadow casted by her hat, her brilliant red eyes stares straight to my face, judging every single muscle movement to discern my intentions. She closes them immediately afterwards, either satisfied with her find or finding nothing. In any case, it's not going to be pretty.
Her stern voice rings, "I think an introduction is in order, no? State your name, archer."
Again, a command, not a request. I wonder how on earth Merlin ever developed romantic feelings for this domineering woman, or is he one of those with strange proclivities? I myself prefer more polite females, although what matters is her inner personality, not the projected persona.
"I'm afraid I can't say... yet. My situation isn't that simple, you see."
"Well, it better gets very simple incredibly soon."
"I will speak only in front of the King, and only when the moment is right."
"And who will decide the 'right time'?" This time, a female voice speaks, much younger than Vivian, even if their figures are similar.
Ah, no... I was wrong in my earlier assessment. Surrounding me aren't five magi... but four magi and a Phantasmal Species.
This girl is called... er, Filvis. Her records are a little harder to pull quickly, since her elven blood has more 'weight' than normal humans. Thankfully, she's just a half-blood, so her strength is limited. If I have to fight against a full-blood elf, things can get ugly if I hold back to avoid major injuries. That said, her strength is comparable to Vivian in her young age, so her potential is enormous.
Her lack of experience shows, however, when she carelessly steps close to me in agitation. Perhaps she's confident the other four can back her up, but it's still an immature mistake. Well, all of them are already in my range anyway, so it doesn't make much of a difference.
"It may sound like I'm lying, but I don't determine it myself. I simply follow instructions left behind... from a benefactor who won't be named, of course." I bow lightly in apology. "I hope you understand, miss elf."
Her body twitches as my moniker strike right home.
To normal humans, beings such as myself and Filvis here are ostrascized, if not outright cursed and hated. They fear and despise things they don't understand or those so powerful they're out of the mortals' reach, afraid of their own survival. I imagine it's partly why she wears such a concealing getup, and partly due to her own personal reasons... namely, how many males will swoon every single time she shows up in front of them.
"Enough."
Vivian steps forward menacingly, motioning Filvis to return to her original position.
"You understand we cannot accept such a roundabout answer, Mr. I-Can't-Say. Our King prizes justice, so come with us, and let yourself be judged fairly. We swear we will never treat you inhumanely, even if you just shot a Knight of the Round Table."
Wow. Her senses can reach that far? I seriously underestimated her...
"Hmm... well, how about a trade? I'll tell you information I can actually share, in exchange for my freedom?"
A glint of greed in their eyes is all the opening I need.
Really, these magi are very easy to rile up, aren't they?
"For example, information regarding Sir Lancelot's condition, since both our goals seem to be the same."
Vivian hesitates slightly, but her curiosity and desire to fulfill her mission overcomes her.
"Speak, and then we'll discuss your release."
"Ah, no, no! I'll like your word right here and now, or I shall leave you with nothing."
"And what makes you think you can escape?"
Before any of them can react, I press a knife onto Filvis's dainty neck, my body already behind her in an instant. I make sure I don't touch her needlessly, since elves are sensitive to that, but the cold steel kisses her skin, ready to sever her head at a twitch of my hand.
"This."
Filvis trembles, although I can't judge her expression from behind her. An enchanting floral scent wafts from her hair, and a normal man will be brought to his knees with just a whiff... but I'm not 'normal'. The rest of them instantly put up full guards, two in the front and two in the back, all of them already halfway finished with their chanting.
However, it seems none of them has the strength to subdue me without harming their comrade, and realizing the blade I'm holding is an enchanted one, Vivian cancels her spell, followed by the others. A presence of a spell still lingers in the air, and I recognize it coming from the girl in front of me, but again, she's not fast enough to avoid death if I so desire.
Playfully, I lift the short knife from her neck, knocking her hat and veil off.
"Well, that's just a demonstration. No need to be so alarmed!" I chuckle, jumping backwards to avoid a counterattack from the elf.
Her hands shoot up to cover her face, but her small hands can't possibly cover everything. Her long, lustrous black hair reaching past her hips compliments her red eyes and fair skin. Her face is a classical beauty of elves, with delicate lips and triangular feature, married to graceful eyebrows and nose. Like I said, it's fortunate I'm not a normal male, or I'll be in trouble.
Filvis hurriedly regroups, and the formation now is far more to my liking: no one to surround me, just five abreast in front. Good thing the plan works out.
The sound of teeth grinding against each other echoes from Vivian's mouth, before she orders, "Stand down."
That order isn't well received, with multiple protests coming from her comrades, but an intense glare shoots them all down.
"On the name of my teacher, Great Magus Merlin..."
"Miss! What-" A squeak comes from Filvis, but it doesn't deter Vivian's words.
"...and my name, Vivian Ambrosius, I swear to grant this nameless archer freedom, in exchange for every information he has on the case of Sir Lancelot, and a guarantee for future negotiations and contacts. Do you solemnly swear?"
I raise my knife, and flick a glob of blood from a knick in my thumb towards her. The droplet gracefully floats into her palm, completing the geas.
I cough to start my explanation.
"Right. Er... Sir Lancelot is having an affair with Her Majesty the Queen."
In hindsight, perhaps starting off with that major bombshell is a mistake.
The five of them are stunned, clearly at loss for words. I assume they didn't know of the fact, which is why I told them, but the impact is greater than what I expected.
In this instance, silence will be detrimental to progress, so I continue, ignoring their gaping mouth. Well, I can only see Filvis's, since the other four still has their veils on, but the point stands.
"So, when he visits Corbenic, he was put under a spell which releases all control of his lust, leading to him sleeping with Princess Elaine. The intercourse results in a child, and the good knight couldn't bear to kill her along with the baby, but his pride and duty as a knight, and also a lover to Queen Guinevere, causes conflict inside his mind. This turns him into the crazy drunkard you all just saw. Am I clear to this point?"
Numbly, they nod.
"The one you have to chase after is this person who enchanted Sir Lancelot, which I suspect is the court magi, Dame Brusen. I fear she has dark plans for the Kingdom, but I have to prevent those two Knights over there from killing each other, so I can't take action just yet. I shot the arrow at Sir Lancelot's arm, not at a lethal point, so don't worry about him."
I omit the fact 'Dame Brusen' is just a cover for Nimue's acts. This information has already overwhelmed them, and to know a Faerie Queen is also involved will be one step too much. Even if they do, the ones who can properly fight her is me and their teacher, Merlin. I have a plan to let him in the know, but the time isn't right.
"This is all I can share for now. Are you satisfied, miss?" I ask Vivian.
She makes some unintelligible noises, mostly 'ah's and 'uh's for a while, before snapping herself awake to face me.
"Yes... I think... Yes, that's satisfactory." She continues, saying, "Can I hope for you not to take further action in the future?"
Her question is as predicted. Who wants an unaccountable third party calling the shots regarding the events in one's own Kingdom? They'll want to put me under a leash, with the first step secured in the previous geas, but that's as far as they'll go. No one should be able to wield as much power as I have, not even myself. That's why I don't want to go all-out, because doing so has serious consequences which I can't pay.
"We'll see about that."
With that roundabout answer, I leave, Prana Burst propelling me out of their vision.