During this time, the various kings of Scotland received a certain piece of news.
Morgan, who had unified England, and Lot had now arrived in Scotland.
Upon hearing this news, all the kings of Scotland were shocked.
Though they had long known this day would eventually come, when it finally arrived, they couldn't help but feel fear deep in their hearts.
Lot and Morgan would never be satisfied with just England.
The entire British Isles Lot and Morgan would not let any part of them slip away. They intended to make Camelot the sole ruling power across these islands.
Resist?
The Scottish kings had no idea how they could possibly resist.
The gap in strength was far too vast.
If the difference had been slight, these kings would surely have pooled all their forces together to defeat their enemies in unison.
But
What if the disparity between the two sides was overwhelming?
Even if the various kingdoms stopped fighting among themselves and united, they would still be nothing more than a disorganized mob, incapable of forming a cohesive whole. There was even a risk that, before they could face Camelot's army in battle, they would end up fighting each other instead.
Moreover, Lot's arrival this time wasn't for an outright invasion he had come in collaboration with King Leodegrance.
King Leodegrance was one of the most powerful rulers in Scotland. Due to his advanced age, his influence was deeply entrenched throughout the land. With him cooperating with Lot, it would be nearly impossible for the Scottish kings to form a proper allied force.
And even if they managed to avoid infighting, their combined strength would still pale in comparison to Camelot's.
Scotland's population and territory were far inferior to England's.
Furthermore, in terms of military equipment, Camelot's forces were closer to Rome, making their technological superiority even more terrifying.
Not to mention the miraculous explosive weapons they had deployed during their last campaign in Scotland.
With such weapons at their disposal, it was hard to imagine how anyone could possibly resist them.
True, some valiant warriors or mages might stand a chance.
But
How many mages did they have?
And how many mages did Camelot have?
In a fight, they would hold no advantage whatsoever.
Thus, in a direct confrontation, they stood no chance at all.
Just as the people were gripped by panic, another piece of news reached their ears.
After arriving in King Leodegrance's domain, Camelot did not immediately dispatch troops. Instead, they announced they would hold a martial tournament.
They invited Scotland's warriors to compete.
Moreover, the final victor would receive combat instruction from Scáthach, the Queen of the Land of Shadows.
The Scottish rulers were no fools.
Upon hearing this announcement from Lot and Morgan, they quickly surmised their intentions.
Do they intend to take Scotland without shedding a single drop of blood?
And make us submit willingly, no less?
Yet, even though they understood
They had no choice but to walk into this trap.
There was no other option.
Because this was their only sliver of hope.
One-on-one combat was the fairest method of all.
In that case, what more was there to say?
Bring it on.
If they lost, it would simply prove that they were truly no match for Camelot's forces.
And if they were indeed inferior, then by the law of the strong, surrender would be the only logical choice.
But if, by some chance, they could earn glory on the battlefield, they might even be remembered as legendary heroes in the annals of Scottish history those who repelled the invaders from across the sea.
Many who harbored such thoughts gripped their weapons and made their way to King Leodegrance's castle.
Thus, after Lot announced his intention to hold this grand tournament of knights, many gathered for the event
All eager to make a name for themselves.
Of course, such a tournament offered no provisions or lodging for participants.
Otherwise, what if a few opportunistic freeloaders showed up just to eat without ever competing? That would be rather awkward.
So, Lot simply let the participants arrange their own accommodations.
Even so, the area beneath the castle was packed to the brim some had come specifically to compete, while others were merely spectators. By Lot's rough estimate, their numbers far exceeded even the size of the Camelot army he had brought with him.
Now, standing atop the castle walls with Morgan in his arms, Lot gazed down at the crowd with an amused expression.
[I wonder if any protagonists will emerge from this lot. The kind who grow stronger with every powerful foe they face, gradually carving their way through the competition. Ah, but such stories are just fantasies. My role now isn't that of the heroic participant I'm the high-and-mighty villain lurking above them all.]
So he mused to himself.
As he pondered this, Morgan was also carefully observing the scene below.
"A villain? Perhaps that's exactly what I am to the people of Scotland now."
She contemplated silently.
But
This was about her and her husband's future.
She didn't care if she was seen as a villain.
Even if she had to become a demon king, Morgan wouldn't hesitate.
...
Amid the bustling crowd, a gentle-looking man with white hair moved unnoticed.
He even came across a few unlucky souls who, carried away by impulse, had journeyed to King Leodegrance's castle only to exhaust their food supplies and generously shared some of his own rations with them.
After doing so, he glanced up at the castle.
"There really are a lot of people here. A shame so many eyes are watching. And... I still can't get a clear read on that person."
There was no way he could see through that one.
Though he had methods to conceal himself from others, Merlin was present and so was Scáthach.
Merlin was manageable; he was confident in evading his gaze. But Scáthach's "Clairvoyance" was another matter entirely. He couldn't guarantee he could hide from her.
The potential gains were too meager, and the price of failure too steep.
He couldn't afford to take that risk.
So, after a brief survey, he decided it was best to leave quickly.
Just then, one of the competitors he had helped earlier stopped him.
"Sir, thank you for your kindness. May I ask your name? If I defeat Camelot's warriors, I'll make sure to spread word of your generosity."
The man spoke with unwavering confidence.
If I thought you stood a chance, I wouldn't have bothered helping you.
He thought to himself.
Outwardly, however, he maintained a solemn demeanor.
"Well, thank you. I wish you success in the tournament."
"As for my name..."
He tilted his head slightly before answering.
"You may call me Oberon."
No one would recognize the origin of that name.
"Understood!"
The man departed.
Oberon smirked, then turned to leave.
But before he could, he spotted an even more intriguing group.
An orange-haired girl, a pink-haired girl, and a girl clad in armor.
"Now this is getting interesting."
Oberon stroked his chin with amusement.
Without another word, he turned and walked away
Without the slightest hesitation.
Now was not the right time to meet them.
He would seek them out when the moment was ripe.
...
"I feel like someone's watching us..."
Mordred scanned the surroundings suspiciously.
"Someone's watching? Are you sure?" Fujimaru Ritsuka asked, tilting her head.
"Well... no, not really."
Mordred shook her head.
Her instincts were far inferior to her "father's."
If Artoria were here, she could likely pinpoint the general direction maybe even catch a glimpse of the observer.
But Mordred could only vaguely sense that someone was spying on them.
"Do you know who it is? Someone sent by Morgan?"
Ritsuka pressed further.
"No idea. But it's probably not Morgan. The Morgan of this world isn't like that."
Mordred shook her head again.
"I agree with Miss Mordred," Mash added in support.
"Then who could it be?"
Ritsuka continued pondering.
"Dunno." Mordred shrugged. "Rather than worrying about that, we should focus on the upcoming fights. Master, are we really joining this tournament?"
"Of course."
Ritsuka nodded firmly.
"We already understand Sir Lot and Morgan's intentions. We can't let them succeed. So we have to win this tournament."
"Heh, then I'm going all out. Last time I lost, but I won't repeat that mistake."
Hearing this, Mordred grinned fiercely.
Her previous defeat against Gawain hadn't been due to any lack of strength she'd just been caught off guard when Gawain suddenly turned into a woman.
Now, as a full-fledged Servant, she wouldn't lose to Gawain again.
"I believe in you."
Ritsuka encouraged her.
For this tournament, Mordred, Mash, and even Lancelot would all participate.
Merlin had wanted to join as well, but Ritsuka stopped him.
"Uh... I'm worried the others might beat you to death out of sheer frustration."
She explained bluntly.
"Yeah, even though we're allies, I kinda want to punch you too."
Mordred wholeheartedly agreed.
"..."
Merlin had no retort.
"Fine, I'll leave it to you all, then."
Munching on an apple, he vanished with a chuckle.
So, with Merlin gone, there was no easy way to identify who had been spying on them earlier.
...
The tournament commenced swiftly.
One by one, the competitors entered the arena according to the arranged matchups.
The first round was a qualifier.
Lot's method was simple.
Ten participants per group.
They would fight amongst themselves, and the last one standing would advance.
The use of weapons was entirely unrestricted.
But this didn't faze the Scots in the slightest.
If anything, it only excited them further.
Fighting? The bloodier, the better.
Of course, Lot had taken precautions when arranging the matches.
Participants like Galahad, Gawain, Kay, and Artoria whom he had sent as well as Ritsuka's group (including Mordred) and other renowned Scottish knights were all placed in separate brackets.
This ensured they wouldn't face each other prematurely, avoiding any accusations of unfairness.
From the stands, Morgan glanced at Ritsuka, who was seated not far away.
"I must say, you're quite bold. We're enemies now, yet you let your companions leave you alone in my presence."
Da Vinci's hologram appeared, answering in Ritsuka's stead.
"I doubt Your Majesty would resort to underhanded tactics against us."
Morgan smirked in satisfaction.
"You're absolutely right. Such things are beneath me."
Watching this exchange, Lot stifled a laugh.
[My wife is usually so sharp, but she's hopeless against flattery. Da Vinci really knows how to play her. Hah, looks like this Chaldea hasn't reached Part 2 yet Da Vinci's still around. Pity.]
He mused internally.
By now, Morgan was used to such thoughts from him.
Hmph.
This husband of hers doesn't just know my future he knows another world's as well.
So Da Vinci's going to die, huh? I'll have to find a way to pry more details out of them later.
As she plotted, Da Vinci continued.
"Also, the reason I had Ritsuka come here was to ask a favor."
"Oh? What is it?"
Morgan raised an eyebrow.
"It's about those two's emotional wounds."
Da Vinci gestured toward Mordred and Lancelot.
"Lancelot learned of Galahad's identity. He's struggling to come to terms with his actions in another world and can't bring himself to face Galahad. You know better than anyone that if this continues, tragedy is inevitable. As for Mordred... her tragedy has already come to pass, but it remains an unresolved burden. She's your daughter surely you won't abandon her?"
"Of course not."
Morgan nodded without hesitation.