(This chapter is from Artoria’s first-person perspective.)
Writing our names on the blackboard and introducing ourselves to the whole class, Mordred and I went to the empty seats in the last row.
If there are no accidents, Mordred and I will live in this unremarkable high school for three years.
By then, perhaps we will continue to live as ordinary people, or perhaps we will be sent elsewhere by the power of prophecy—of course, if there really are no ‘accidents’.
Mordred and I still possess the Dragon Core, and we can still use Mana Burst.
Based on this point alone, accidents cannot help but happen.
In the script’s setting, Mordred and I are of Japanese-British mixed heritage.
Our father is Japanese, named Masamasa Bendo.
Our mother is British, named Anna Llewellyn.
Our parents passed away due to a car accident, and according to the original plan, we, being twins, came to Japan to receive high school education here.
This setting feels awkward no matter how I look at it, always giving me a strange sense of déjà vu.
Sure enough, today, after the first ‘Japanese History’ class ended, my side was surrounded by curious classmates.
Perhaps it was because of the clothes, but the students surrounding me were all girls.
The boys gathered in groups of three or five elsewhere, pointing and gesturing towards my side.
The girls, as if by routine, bombarded me with questions one after another.
“Did Bendo-san grow up in the UK before?
That’s amazing!
Your English must be very good!”
“Yes.
I was born in Britain and grew up in Britain; except for specific periods, I almost never returned to Japan.”
“Bendo-san’s Japanese is so standard!
There isn’t a hint of an accent; how did you manage that?”
“My father was a rather traditional Japanese man and never interrupted my Japanese education, so I have benefited a lot from that.”
“Is Bendo-san a British noble?
Could you be a member of the royal family?
You have such an elegant aura!”
“My mother’s ancestors were related to the Duke of Cornwall at that time, but it cannot be called nobility now.
My father’s ancestors were a branch family of the hereditary vassal Mayama clan of the Sendai Domain; although the family’s fortunes declined later, we never dared to forget Lord Masamune’s teachings of ‘Benevolence, Righteousness, Propriety, Wisdom, and Faith.’ Regarding speech and etiquette, it is more the influence of my elementary and junior high school classmates.
I myself am not a person of noble blood; it is just the result of my environment.”
“Why is Bendo-san enrolling now?
There are only a few days left before summer vacation, right?”
“The main reason is to collect the textbooks.
The British education system is different from Japan’s, so the gap of this one semester needs to be made up during the summer vacation.”
“Bendo-kun looks so much like her sister!
I’ve never seen twins who look so similar!”
“Our appearances are similar, but there are still differences.
For example, my younger sister prefers a single ponytail over an updo.”
“Bendo-kun…”
“Sister, I have something to say to you.”
Mordred came before me aggressively, driving all the classmates away with a fierce glare.
She probably has something important to say, right?
I immediately stood up, bowed slightly, and said to the classmates who had been surrounding me—
“Sorry, everyone, I have some business to attend to.
If we have time later, feel free to ask me anything you want to know…
Well then, excuse me.”
After saying that, Mordred grabbed my arm, pulled me all the way upstairs, and dragged me to the rooftop of the school building.
It was midsummer, and even though this was northeastern Japan, the surface of the rooftop still felt scorching.
Additionally, since the break time was short, the rooftop was empty at this moment, allowing Mordred and me to speak freely.
Leaning against the wall next to the entrance, Mordred crossed her arms and began to complain.
“What is with those guys!
Why is everyone surrounding Father!
Chirping away like sparrows in the morning, not even letting Father stop—”
“Matori, call me’Sister’ when we are outside.”
My voice of reminder was calm, without any sense of command or coercion.
Although we were currently speaking brittonic, which no one else understood and was essentially an encrypted conversation, I had to establish the habit.
If Mordred ever used the word ‘Father’ in Japanese one day, I really wouldn’t know how to explain it.
“Didn’t I just call you’Sister’, Father!” Mordred’s tone became even more dissatisfied.
“Anyway, we’re speaking brittonic, and no one can understand it, so I’ll say what I want?
I can’t be expected to call you’Sister’ even in brittonic, can I?
If Mother finds out, how would she explain it on her end?
If the other knights find out, what would they think?”
“But if it’s overheard by outsiders in other languages, it will be very troublesome to explain.”
“Father doesn’t need to worry about that.
The Japanese ‘Father’ (Chichiue) is so tongue-tying, I won’t say it.
It seemed I was overthinking it?
After all, the difference between a native language and a non-native one is indeed vast.
However…
how should I put it, I still felt a bit uneasy in my heart.
But since it was Mordred, I suppressed that uncomfortable feeling.
“Alright, let’s leave it at that for now…
So, Mordred, did you call me out for something?”
“It’s nothing.
I’m just annoyed that Father was surrounded by those women.
Every single one of them chirping incessantly, with no sense of etiquette at all.
It’s too casual, it’s irritating to listen to!
No one ever dared to be so disrespectful to Father!
If anyone had dared to speak to Father like that before, being banished from the court would have been the lightest punishment!”
So that was it.
It seemed Mordred felt the King’s dignity was being challenged.
The country is gone, the throne and crown are gone, but Mordred still firmly believes I am the King.
This suddenly reminded me of something—in the court etiquette of Camelot, the words ‘Father’ and ‘Father-King’ were different.
Back in Avalon, Mordred did call me ‘Father,’ but somehow, she later switched to ‘Father-King.’ No matter how much I emphasized that I was no longer a King, it was useless.
Especially after reading those two books, this habit became completely fixed, and Mordred had no intention of correcting it.
However, that wasn’t the point.
I had to remind Mordred of the difference in eras—after all, Mordred didn’t even know what a television was before, treating it as a special kind of mirror.
“They were just asking out of curiosity about a new classmate.
The etiquette of our era doesn’t fit here.
This is twenty-first-century Japan, not fifth-century Britain…
How does that proverb go—’When in Rome, do as the Romans do.’ The same logic applies here.”
Mordred remained silent, still crossing her arms with the rebellious look characteristic of adolescence.
There were still a few minutes before class.
Since Mordred had no other questions, I had one for her.
“Setting that aside for now.
Mordred, how did the first period feel?”
“I’m not interested in the history of this country.
I’m not from here anyway.”
“Interest is one thing, but grades are another.
This semester is about to end, and we don’t have to take exams, but next semester things will return to normal.
If your final grades are failing, I will be angry—after all, your feelings are just your feelings; others care about your grades and have no interest in your feelings.”
Hearing me say this, Mordred’s brow furrowed instantly, as if a fire were burning in her heart.
However, this fire was clearly not directed at me.
Because she immediately nodded respectfully, with a serious, earnest, and meticulous manner, as if she were at a Round Table meeting—except she lowered her head, avoiding eye contact with me.
“I understand, Father.
Next semester, my grades will definitely be in the top ten of the class.
I give you my word.”
“Then let’s head back.
It’s time for class.”
“But…
what if those women pester Father again?”
“In a few days, once we’ve become familiar as classmates and their curiosity fades, it won’t be like that anymore.”
“A few more days?!”
Mordred looked up, her eyes wide, staring at me in disbelief.
I had no choice but to let out a breath and try to explain to Mordred earnestly.
“Mordred, we are no longer royalty.
The past is the past, and the present is the present.
You must respect the actions and thoughts of others.
Currently, at least according to our passports, we are indeed ordinary people.
If that’s the case, even if it’s an act, we should act like ordinary people.
Even if it’s unfamiliar at first, as long as you act it enough, it will eventually become a habit.”
Mordred’s cheek twitched, and her gaze immediately shifted from disbelief to gloom.
It seemed she had once again heard something beyond the literal meaning of my words, to the point where I began to wonder if I had truly said something wrong—but looking back, I didn’t feel I had misspoken.
After nearly ten seconds, Mordred gave a heavy nod.
“…I understand, Father.
I won’t do that again.”
It was as if I had spoken very harsh words to her in a very stern tone.
Logically, that shouldn’t be the case…
My tone was as calm as could be, and my choice of words wasn’t heavy.
Why was this happening?
Before, Mordred would also shed tears for no apparent reason.
Ever since being brought to the modern era by the power of the prophecy, Mordred had been in a state of intense emotional fluctuation almost constantly.
Or maybe it’s just a typical case of adolescence?
I didn’t quite understand; I couldn’t quite grasp it.
It felt as if there were a chasm between Mordred and me.
In the end, I could only remind her of what I had just said to avoid any trouble.
“Be more polite to the other classmates in the future.
This isn’t fifth-century Britain, but twenty-first-century Japan.
The era of feudal kingship has ended.
The distinction in human status no longer exists.
Don’t always have such a haughty attitude; it won’t make others fear you, it will only make them dislike you.”
“I understand everything, Father…”
“Ding-dong-dong-ding…”
A distinctive short melody echoed through the air.
It was the school bell.
The break time was over.
I walked ahead, with Mordred following behind, and we returned to the classroom together to begin the lesson.
The process of the class was actually quite dull and boring.
Not only was the teacher’s tone too light and the speaking pace too slow, but it was also near the end of the term, focusing mainly on problem-solving and Q&A.
The knowledge in the first-semester textbooks for tenth grade was also quite easy to understand, something one could grasp just by flipping through—though it might be more troublesome for Mordred to learn.
The Japanese classical literature part, which should have been very difficult, posed no challenge at all due to the power of the prophecy—my mind automatically understood the content the classical text intended to convey, including the differences between On-reading and Kun-reading, the special Japanese way of reading Chinese texts, and the different meanings of Kun-readings for various Kanji.
I knew it all in advance and had mastered it, able to fully understand it at any moment.
Amidst sitting idly and self-studying, half the day passed quickly.
At 3:30 PM, Mordred and I were called to the office by our homeroom teacher.
The class I belong to is Class 1-C.
Our homeroom teacher’s name is Katagiri Rie.
She’s around thirty years old, usually wears blue semi-rimless glasses, and has deep purple hair tied in a single ponytail.
Tall and striking, she is a quintessential intellectual beauty.
Her eyes are quite special—pale blue, a color usually only found in Northern Europeans.
The homeroom teacher called Mordred and me here this time to decide on our club activities.
“Clubs…
Sorry, Teacher, Matori and I don’t want to join any clubs for the time being.
Today is July 16th, and final exams are next Thursday and Friday, July 24th and 25th.
Although we won’t be taking the exams, we still want to use these few days to catch up as much as possible on the parts of this semester we missed.”
“No, no, you’ve misunderstood me, Aria-kun,” Katagiri Rie said with a smile.
“There’s no rush these next few days anyway.
Wouldn’t it be nice to learn more about what the various clubs are like?
Besides, it’s only the first semester of your first year; the important courses aren’t that many.
Personally, I feel that club activities are much more important for you and Matori-kun than studying.
Many kinds of knowledge can only be learned through interpersonal interactions, things a teacher can’t teach you.”
I frowned slightly.
This was quite a troublesome matter.
To be honest, rather than joining a club, I’d much rather join the ‘Go-Home Club.’
In the first place, attending school is already just playing house to me; club activities would undoubtedly be more of the same.
Once back home, I could watch what I wanted to
Naturally, I wanted to refuse.
But before I could voice my rejection, Mordred spoke up first.
“Katagiri-sensei, can my sister and I start a new club?”
“…Start a new club?”
“That’s right.
Middle and high schools in England have clubs too.
The club my sister and I participated in before was the ‘HEMA Enthusiasts Association.’ It’s a club dedicated to studying and practicing ancient European martial arts.
Before graduation, my sister was the president of the association.
Now that I’m attending school in Japan, I still want to stay in a HEMA club.”
This was a new development.
And Mordred had never mentioned it to me.
Furthermore, where did she learn about HEMA?
From the internet?
But wasn’t the computer only bought yesterday?
How did she learn to use a computer and search for the acronym HEMA in such a short time?
Was it purely through her own learning ability?
However, I wasn’t opposed to Mordred’s idea.
As long as she enjoyed it, it was fine.
Katagiri Rie thought for a moment and then asked, “What does HEMA stand for?”
“Historical European Martial Arts.” A London accent that couldn’t be more standard came from Mordred’s mouth.
“It means European historical martial arts.
In middle school, we mainly studied the rapier and the longsword.”