Chapter 118: Merlin as a Passerby

While everyone was anxiously searching everywhere for Artoria, the protagonist was strolling leisurely through the streets of Northern Ireland in casual attire.

*Sniff, sniff.*

Artoria’s nose twitched involuntarily as she caught the scent of batter and green onions. Turning toward the source, she saw an elderly woman using a rectangular wooden spatula to fiddle with something on an iron stove.

"Ma'am, what are you making?" Drawn in by the appetizing aroma, Artoria approached, curiously watching the pancakes transition from raw to cooked on the iron plate, alongside a pile of discarded, failed attempts nearby.

"It’s a snack I learned from a vendor when I traveled to China. It’s called Jianbing Guozi. Would you like to try one?" The woman enthusiastically grabbed a finished pancake from a container with tongs.

Artoria took the pancake. It wasn't made very well; the outer skin was broken, and the fillings and sauce were spilling out, but it still smelled delicious. Artoria took a bite. The crispy, fragrant dough, mixed with the sweet and spicy sauce and finely diced meat, exploded in her mouth. It was exceptionally flavorful, and the bits of potato tucked inside were perfectly to her taste.

"How is it? Not bad, right?" The woman seemed to understand Artoria perfectly, placing two more pancakes on a plate before she had even finished the first one.

"Mmph, no, thank you. I couldn't possibly eat that much," Artoria waved her hand politely.

"It's fine. You're a young person in your growing years. Eat up, don't worry about gaining weight," the woman chuckled.

This harmonious scene was soon broken by chants and shouts as a protest march in Northern Ireland passed through the street before them. Artoria watched the spectacle, the pace of her chewing slowing significantly. Although most of the people marching were her supporters, the very fact that they were protesting over her made it impossible for her to feel happy.

"Sigh, these people don't do anything productive; they just shout slogans all day. It’s noisy, isn't it?" The woman set down her tools. "Don't worry too much. Conflicts are relatively rare around here."

"..." Artoria was silent for a moment. "Ma'am, what is your take on this King Arthur they are debating?"

"My take? I don't know much about that," the woman wiped her hands on her apron. "But to evaluate a person, one must consider the historical context of their time, right?"

"Hmm," Artoria felt a bit heavy-hearted.

"In that era, the population of Britannia was small, and they faced both natural disasters and man-made catastrophes. Furthermore, they had the Sword of Damocles hanging over their heads in the form of Odin’s Asgardian legions. King Arthur’s role was primarily military; as long as she and her Knights of the Round Table were there, the people didn't have to fear waking up as slaves the next day, nor did they have to worry about their livelihoods vanishing overnight."

The woman leaned against the stove, tilting her head as she looked at Artoria. "When the scale is small and military force is the absolute deciding factor, a dignified, stern, and authoritative king is a necessity."

"But as the times evolve, that kind of 'one-man rule' model has gradually been phased out in the mortal world. A king should focus more on management and setting the broader direction. No matter how capable someone is, it's impossible for one person to possess knowledge of every facet of life."

"Therefore, communication has become one of the most vital skills. Simply put, a king who maintains a cold distance, acts as a dictator, and refuses to communicate is no longer suited for this era."

"Even in the realm of mystery, with the increase in personnel, ancient monarchs are ill-suited for this age. For one person to shoulder all the responsibility is far too much 'individual heroism,' isn't it?"

Artoria turned her head slowly, looking at this woman who seemed as ordinary as any other person. The woman, seemingly thinking Artoria hadn't understood, continued, "The Knights of the Round Table who left for a time were not blaming the King’s decisions. They simply wanted the King to realize that the changing times no longer require one person to carry everything. It’s too exhausting for the King and for everyone else, the efficiency is too low, and one person no longer has the capacity to do it all alone. The collective—"

At that moment, Artoria suddenly threw a punch, shattering the iron stove into two halves.

*Whoosh!* The woman dodged the blow with terrifying agility and patted her chest, looking as if she had narrowly escaped, sighing about how lucky she was.

"Little girl, what are you doing?"

"Merlin! Stop pretending!" Artoria regained her stern demeanor.

Did he really take her for a fool? Would a random street vendor know about events from two thousand years ago? And know them in such detail? She even knew that the Knights of the Round Table left because of a specific decision she had made—very few, even in the world of mystery, knew all of that. Thinking of someone who could bypass her perception, knew her so well, and could concoct such a way to disguise themselves as a passerby to preach lessons... Artoria could only think of one person.

That insufferably shameless Merlin!

"Oh my, I suppose I said too much, didn't I?" Merlin reverted to his true form. "Little Artoria, long time no see. Last time I came to visit you, you wouldn't even let me through the door. I’ve been heartbroken for years."

Artoria took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to unleash Excalibur and strike down this shameless fellow.

"Didn't you join the Clock Tower? Why are you back?!" Artoria glared at him.

"Not at all! I’m currently a consultant for Ouroboros," Merlin retorted, laughing as he spoke.

"You!"

Just as Artoria was about to say more, Merlin vanished into the air like bubbles. Artoria stood there with a cold face for several minutes before turning to leave. Before she departed, she took all the pancakes from the basket, leaving none behind.

"Meow..." (*Is that all for you?*)

Ann lay on the rooftop railing, tilting her head as she watched Merlin, who was crouching on the ground trying to avoid Artoria's gaze.

"She has figured it out, but she’s still a bit bothered. Otherwise, she wouldn't be wandering around here—she would have drawn her sword and wiped out those troublemakers. The dignity of a king brooks no encroachment."

As he spoke, Merlin scooped Ann into his arms and, to her utter bewilderment, began rubbing her vigorously.

*Meow!* Ann swiped twice at Merlin’s face before cutting into a shadow portal and disappearing.

Merlin scratched his hair, looking at the spot where Ann had vanished with a hint of envy. As expected of Mage Kaylan’s cat; the ability to bypass spatial anchors and traverse freely was truly enviable. As he thought about it, Merlin stuck out his tongue—he had accidentally bitten it while chanting the spatial anchor spell earlier, and it still hurt.