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[FTMWDK] Chapter 108: De Javu and Confusion
🕑 Added 2023-11-10 06:07:50 +0000 UTCAround midday, Arkhan and his group finally arrived at Camelot.
As they observed the magnificent white walls up close, the sense of awe grew stronger, and the towering walls loomed before them like majestic mountains.
The walls sparkled with radiant brilliance, a familiar sight that undoubtedly indicated the operation of magic formations.
However, compared to Lucanmont, Camelot's magic formations were noticeably more complex and massive. Even a faint emanation of power gave the impression of immense magical fluctuations.
"How do you feel, sensing the power of these magic formations? Let me tell you, these formations are the masterpieces of the greatest mage in all of Britain's history. It can easily withstand attacks even from gods." Merlin proudly explained.
"The greatest mage in history is none other than yourself, I assume?" Arkhan quipped with a sideways glance.
"Indeed, Your Majesty, your keen eyes remain as bright as ever~" Merlin responded with a grin.
Arkhan shook his head in resignation.
"Is this truly a city built by human hands? It gives me the sensation of standing before Odin's golden palace."
Inside Arkhan's mind, Nidhogg suddenly spoke with awe.
As she gazed upon the vast and majestic city, she was filled with astonishment, realizing that even with her true body, she couldn't guarantee the complete destruction of this city.
What had humanity developed during her millennia-long imprisonment in the Norse Realms?
Arkhan's group continued to advance and saw over a hundred nobles standing at the city gate, dressed in opulence and radiating a remarkable aura.
"The one at the front is Ferguson." Morgan's voice resounded inside Arkhan's mind.
Arkhan fixed his gaze on the elderly man at the forefront.
Despite wearing simple attire, the elderly man bore no distinction from the commoners. His hair was white, his face etched with wrinkles, but his posture remained unwavering, and his gray-brown eyes held an extraordinary clarity. He exuded an air of authority that even the most lavishly dressed nobles around him couldn't help but get overshadowed.
Arkhan sighed inwardly, recognizing him as the trusted minister entrusted with the duty of safeguarding the kingdom by Uther in his final moments.
"Many of those people know about my identity, so I can't enter with you. We'll meet again once we're inside Camelot." Morgan explained.
Arkhan nodded slightly, a prearranged decision between them. Now wasn't the best time to reveal their connection.
Later on, Morgan found an opportunity to conceal herself with magecraft and silently departed from the group.
'Hmm? Guinevere disappeared?'
Artoria was the first to notice Morgan's absence, but her peculiar intuition told her that this might not be a bad thing.
Seeing her teacher's calm demeanor, she hesitated but ultimately said nothing.
When they were about ten meters from the city gate, Arkhan and his group dismounted their horses and approached.
""Greetings, Your Majesty!""
The nobles and ministers all bowed in unison, showing their respect to Arkhan, except for Ferguson, who remained unresponsive.
Noticing this, many nobles couldn't help but exchange curious glances.
Ferguson's unwavering loyalty to King Uther was well-known, and many had speculated that Ferguson would be highly critical of the new king. However, they never expected the new king to assert his authority so quickly.
This only deepened their belief that the headstrong Minister of Internal Affairs and the rising new king would undoubtedly clash, sparking intense conflicts.
In the end, between these two individuals, perhaps only one would remain!
Due to their bowing position, they didn't see the deep confusion in Ferguson's eyes.
Although Ferguson had prepared for the struggle with the new king, after mingling in the upper class of society for so many years, the seasoned Ferguson wasn't foolish enough to make such an untimely move. If news of it got out, it would only make his image look bad.
But when he saw the new king, clad in pale silver armor, walking towards him, he suddenly felt a strong sense of deja vu, as if he were back outside the castle, watching the young Uther return victorious in the old days.
It was this feeling that momentarily left him stunned in place.
"Lord Ferguson, not bowing before the king is a great sign of disrespect. Do you have some grudge against His Majesty?"
A tall nobleman standing nearby remarked, clearly unafraid of Ferguson.
"Lord Ferguson, have you been in Camelot for so long that you've forgotten your role as a subject?"
"Lord Ferguson, disrespecting the king's authority is a grave offense, you should be well aware of that."
Other prominent nobles chimed in, some harboring dissatisfaction due to Ferguson's past suppression, looking to seize the opportunity for revenge, some aiming to gain favor with the new king for future interactions, and some trying to escalate the conflict between Ferguson and the new king.
The rest of the minor nobles remained silent, knowing that stepping into such a confrontation at their level was undoubtedly a recipe for disaster.
Ferguson quickly regained his composure, cursing these opportunistic nobles in his heart, but he maintained a calm exterior and said, "I was dealing with state affairs all night, so I'm a bit fatigued. Besides, I'm getting older, and my spirits aren't as high as they used to be. I simply got lost in thought for a moment."
"If it's so tough, Lord Ferguson, why not return your authority to His Majesty and retire to a quiet countryside? You might live a bit longer that way." A nobleman retorted.
Ferguson's expression darkened even further, and he was about to respond when he heard a light laugh beside him.
"Haha, Lord Ferguson is burdened by state affairs and understandably fatigued. You are all pillars of Camelot; it's only right to work together and avoid harming each other."
The nobles gaped at the new king, not understanding why he suddenly came to Ferguson's defense.
Was the new king trying to mend fences with Ferguson?
Ferguson was equally puzzled by the new king's intentions.
However, Arkhan merely smiled and appeared indifferent.
Afterward, the nobles and ministers approached Arkhan one by one, engaging in small talk. He responded without showing any impatience, casually answering their questions.
The nobles exchanged glances and sighed inwardly. They had initially thought this young king would be arrogant and prideful, but it turned out he was as elusive as Ferguson, a sly fox.
With such a monarch at the helm, the days of ease and comfort they once enjoyed might be gone for good.
