June, Britain.

  Even on this island, the weather had begun to heat up.

  Even at night, the heat did not subside in the slightest. It made one want to drop everything and head north, to Scotland, then board a ship and continue sailing further north.

  On the vast grasslands, an army was stationed.

  A fence surrounded the camp, with tall, armored warriors standing guard every few meters. Outside the perimeter, a trench several meters deep had been dug. If one looked closely, they would see that the trench was filled with spikes and caltrops.

  Faint blue light glowed from the tips of the spikes.

  Beyond the trench, the seemingly flat ground concealed countless traps. Anyone who thought they could simply sneak past the trench would soon find themselves suffering a painful lesson.

  Anyone witnessing this would instinctively take a sharp breath.

  This is just a temporary camp, right?

  Why is it so secure?

  Inside the fence, tents were set up one after another.

  At this moment, in the central tent, a group of burly men surrounded a young boy.

  The boy was draped in a silver fox-fur cloak over a silver suit of armor. In one hand, he held a wineskin, which he was currently tilting back, pouring large gulps of wine down his throat.

  He had golden hair and blue eyes, with an exceptionally handsome and refined face. His lips were red, his teeth pearly white, and his delicate features were even more elegant than those of a young girl. His long hair cascaded down his back, and even the crude act of guzzling wine—something that would look vulgar on others—seemed strangely pleasing when done by him.

  His name was Lot, and he was the king of these men.

  After downing the last few drops of wine, he casually tossed the wineskin onto the grass beside him.

  Lot cast a sidelong glance at the armored warrior standing before him.

  "You said that King Uther wants to marry his daughter to me?"

  So, it was finally nearing the time for King Arthur to make his entrance?

  At the same time, he pondered inwardly.

  He was not originally from this era.

  A few years ago, he had transmigrated to the land of Britain in this age, taking on the identity of King Lot—a mere background character in the legend of King Arthur.

  Just like that minor Eastern official from four hundred years prior, named Huo Zhongru, who was good for nothing except fathering sons.

  After having a bunch of powerful children with Morgan, he would eventually be defeated by King Arthur.

  But even if he somehow managed to defeat Arthur and become the King of Britain, what then?

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  England in this era was far too small.

  It was nothing compared to the great powers of the future—let alone the British Empire on which the sun never set.

  At this point in time, England was on the fringes of the world, barely even worth mentioning.

  In terms of land area, it was only slightly larger than two Tongliao regions.

  In terms of culture, it was still a land of barbarians.

  As for population—there was no point in even discussing it.

  Fighting King Arthur to the death over such a tiny piece of land? That was just foolish.

  As someone whose "cheat" ability only helped with daily life, it was better to lay low and play it safe.

  Besides, his subordinates were loyal, and he had made a few small inventions to improve his life. Things were quite comfortable.

  "Yes, my lord. King Uther has ordered his court mage, Merlin, to escort Princess Morgan here for your wedding," the messenger reported.

  "Alright then, I welcome her," Lot said after a brief moment of contemplation, his expression complicated.

  Marrying Morgan would indeed cause some trouble in the future. However, for now, this was undoubtedly a crucial way to strengthen ties with King Uther.

  Currently, he was still an ally of Camelot. If he refused this marriage and offended Uther, it would be akin to delivering a stinging slap to the king’s face.

  If your superior offers you a toast, you drink. If they serve you food, you eat.

  Otherwise, before even worrying about fighting King Arthur, he would first have to deal with fighting Arthur's father.

  Also... he was quite curious about Morgan's appearance.

  As a man, he had to admit—he was a little tempted.

  He had been in this world for several years now, and he had already lost all hope when it came to the women around him.

  Where was the promised harem of beautiful ladies after transmigrating?

  As a hardcore otaku—and a virgin, no less—there was absolutely no way he could feel anything for medieval peasant women.

  Rough, tanned skin, gaunt faces, misshapen bodies— Anyone who thought they could find a stunning village beauty just by wandering into a fief, like in those novels, could dream on.

  As a noble lord, he technically had the privilege to do whatever he pleased with his subjects, yet after all these years, Lot remained a virgin.

  That alone spoke volumes about the appearance of the women in this era.

  But Morgan was different.

  She was born into nobility and had undoubtedly been well cared for. And whether in legend or from the information Lot’s spies had gathered, one thing was certain—Morgan was an exceptionally beautiful woman.

  This was exactly his type.

  Lot couldn't help but smile.

  Besides, in the original legend, while Morgan was part of the reason for his eventual conflict with King Arthur, Lot's own ambition also played a significant role.

  But now? Things were different.

  Lot lay back, resting one foot on the other, gazing lazily at the stars above.

  He hopes Morgan fits his aesthetic tastes.

  <+>

  "They’re here! My lord, Merlin and Princess Morgan have arrived!"

  Riding atop his white horse, Lot heard his subordinate’s excited report.

  Since he knew Morgan would be arriving soon, he had chosen to wait for her here.

  After all, she was about to become his wife—it would be far too rude to simply wait in his castle for the wedding.

  A gentleman. The Lot family had always been gentlemen.

  And so, for the past few days, Lot had been waiting for Morgan’s arrival.

  He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and gazed into the distance.

  Before long—

  A large group of knights appeared within his field of vision.

  Several large carriages followed behind them.

  It was obvious that King Uther took this marriage very seriously.

  At the front of the procession rode a man and a woman.

  Lot focused on the woman.

  That must be Morgan.

  She rode a white horse, her tall figure draped in black. A black veil obscured her face, but behind it, her brilliant silver hair cascaded down her back, so long that it nearly touched the horse’s saddle.

  Her black garments occasionally revealed glimpses of her snow-white skin, allowing Lot to estimate the contours of her impressive figure.

  ‘That body is perfect. As long as her face isn’t hideous, she’s already a goddess.’

  Lot thought to himself, eagerly taking in the sight.

  But as he continued looking, a strange feeling crept over him.

  Why does this feel so… familiar?

  He shifted his gaze.

  The man standing beside Morgan must be Merlin.

  Dressed in white robes, with white hair and a staff in hand, he bore a perpetual smirk—the kind that screamed, I’m always up to something.

  He looked exactly like the type of person who’d scam people out of their money and emotions online.

  And that face—Lot knew that face all too well.

  Back in his previous life, he had been a proper, hardcore otaku.

  ’Shit. This is the Nasuverse!’

  Lot gritted his teeth.