Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King's Personal Knight

In the dimly lit room, the only source of light was an oil lamp, casting a faint orange-yellow glow.

Outside the window, the bustling chatter from the marketplace could be heard, but the room itself felt isolated, as though it were cut off from the world, plunged into silence.

A low voice slowly broke the stillness: "Do you have anything else to confess?"

Before the words finished echoing, a large hand rested on the oil lamp, adjusting the wick to direct the flickering flame toward the man across the table.

"I've confessed everything, I swear!"

Merlin, illuminated by the lamp's glow, wore an awkward smile. His eyes darted nervously toward the holy lance resting near his cheek as if even the slightest movement could cause it to graze his precious face.

Opposite Merlin sat Alaric, one hand gripping the holy lance and the other holding the oil lamp. His jewel-like eyes were locked onto Merlin, as if afraid the man might slip away the moment he let his guard down.

It had been an hour since they met with Gilgamesh. After confirming that Alaric would serve as Merlin's attendant and clarifying the vague nature of Merlin's duties in Uruk, Gilgamesh had unceremoniously kicked them out.

When Siduri returned, Gilgamesh wasted no time in shooing Merlin and Alaric from the palace and returned to his work—handling everything from battlefront logistics to the minutiae of daily life for Uruk's citizens.

Seeing Gilgamesh so buried in work made Alaric wonder if the King of Heroes might collapse from overwork one day.

But Gilgamesh's condition wasn't Alaric's main concern. What he wanted to know was—

"You owe me at least three explanations, Merlin."

Alaric raised three fingers and waved them lightly in front of Merlin.

He hadn't been able to press the matter in front of Gilgamesh, but now that they were alone, Alaric was determined to get some answers.

Seeing that Alaric wasn't about to give up, Merlin cautiously ventured, "I-I shouldn't have come to find you?"

"Go on."

"Maybe I should've met with King Gilgamesh earlier."

Merlin rubbed his hands together nervously. "Ahaha, these things don't matter, do they—"

Even with the holy lance pressed to his throat, Merlin refused to say more, leaving Alaric with no choice but to let it go.

"What do you think of me, Merlin? Do you see me as a Knight of the Round Table?"

Alaric set aside the holy lance and rested his hands on the table, fingers interlocked. "Or rather, what am I to you?"

Even without Gilgamesh's words, Alaric couldn't shake the sense that he might not be anything good.

After all, what kind of normal person gets cast out of human history?

Could it be that humanity itself was wrong?

Hearing this, Merlin looked at Alaric with genuine surprise.

...

...

...

The next morning, Aaric rose early and stepped out of the inn, standing on the streets of Uruk at 4 a.m.

Blending into the crowd as if he were a local, he wandered until 8 a.m., when Siduri finally found him and escorted him to the city gates.

A modestly designed carriage awaited them there, with none other than the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh, sitting calmly inside.

When Gilgamesh spotted Siduri and Alaric, he immediately spoke up: "You're late! Have some sense of time, Alaric!"

"King Gilgamesh, you never mentioned a time, or did I miss it?"

Alaric's expression was one of feigned innocence as he scrutinized the carriage. "And we're taking this to the temple?"

It wasn't that Alaric had anything against the carriage—it was just that, given the temple's loss of contact and the fact that even Gilgamesh was personally heading there, wouldn't a faster mode of transportation make more sense? Why take a slow carriage?

Alaric didn't get it.

"Hm? In this era, carriages are the natural mode of transportation. Do you have a better idea?"

Gilgamesh crossed his arms and spoke with an air of certainty. "Since you're here, let's set off. Time is precious. Can you handle driving the carriage?"

"I can ride a horse, so I'll give it a try." Alaric didn't refuse. Soon enough, he was driving the carriage in the direction Gilgamesh had indicated.

Siduri watched them depart before turning back toward Uruk.

The sturdy horses pulled the carriage swiftly along the relatively smooth road.

Given the importance of time, Alaric didn't hold back, urging the horses to their full speed.

Meanwhile, Gilgamesh sat as steady as a mountain inside the carriage, silently watching Alaric's back.

"King Gilgamesh, what do you think of me?"

Even without turning around, Alaric could feel Gilgamesh's gaze and voiced his lingering question. "Or rather, why do you think I'm not human?"

During their meeting the previous day, Gilgamesh had described him as a monster. Though Alaric couldn't provide an answer at the time, the remark still lingered in his mind.

If it was due to the changes brought about by the blood of the Red Dragon, Alaric could accept being called non-human. But his gut told him that wasn't what Gilgamesh meant. After all, if bloodline alone determined humanity, Gilgamesh himself was two-thirds divine.

Not to mention the countless other heroes in history with various non-human ancestries. Judging someone as a monster based solely on bloodline felt far too simplistic.

Hearing this, Gilgamesh raised his eyes slightly and said calmly, "I was mistaken. You are a being who can claim humanity and continue moving forward.

But you must recognize yourself for what you are. If even you cannot see yourself clearly, you will be unable to forge a path to the future."

Before meeting Alaric, Gilgamesh might have fully believed in the label of monster. But after only a few minutes of interaction, his perspective had shifted.

Though he couldn't pinpoint how Alaric maintained his mental stability, there was no doubt in Gilgamesh's mind that Alaric was a human.

"Is that so—"

Alaric chuckled softly as he held the reins. "Then I'll have to keep working on it."

"And this time, who are you doing it for?"

Gilgamesh turned his gaze toward the retreating forest outside the carriage. "I don't know the full extent of your past, but I've caught glimpses of it.

As a Knight of the Round Table, you acted for your comrades. But what reason will you find to act here, on this land? Did Merlin simply drag you into this?"

"Don't tell me it's that laughable thing called love. I'd die of laughter right here."

"It has nothing to do with anyone else. I just want to live. Everything else is secondary."

This time, Alaric could answer without hesitation.

If love was born from the fear of death and the desire to leave something behind in extreme circumstances, then now, Alaric could confidently declare his simple desire to live.

The Lion King had already resolved his final dilemma. The rest was up to Alaric himself to fight for.

I want to live.

Even after facing death three times, being rejected by the world, and despised by humanity, Alaric still loved life and clung to his one remaining wish.

To live.

"Hmph, your willpower is adequate. I'll reluctantly acknowledge it.

If you want to live, then show this land the brilliance that belongs to you, Alaric."

Gilgamesh's lips curled into a faint smile, seemingly satisfied with Alaric's response.

Their casual conversation made the time pass quickly.

Eventually, Alaric and Gilgamesh arrived at the temple, the city near Mount Ebih that worshipped the goddess Ishtar.

As Gilgamesh stepped out of the carriage, the guards at the gate were momentarily startled before quickly bowing in respect and allowing them through.

"Stop here. I'll go ahead. You head over there to find the high priestess and see what she's up to."

With a furrowed brow, Gilgamesh jumped from the carriage and decisively pointed Alaric in the right direction.