FATE: The Man with Divine Keys

Artoria gazed at her reflection in the mirror.

With her golden hair pulled up, a masculine waistcoat and trousers, arm and leg armor signifying her knightly identity, and those striking azure eyes and delicate features, she looked entirely different from her former self.

The knightly demeanor she had been groomed with from a young age made her eyes radiate a sense of valor, making her appear more like a handsome knight. Unless someone was exceptionally familiar with her, no one should be able to recognize her in her current appearance—at most, they might mistake her for a typical handsome young man.

The day of the king selection was approaching, and in order to conceal her true identity, she had to move about in this disguise starting today until the moment she pulled the sword from the stone.

Over a decade of preparation was about to culminate in this moment.

'But, do I truly have the qualification to pull the sword from the stone?' Artoria pondered, looking at her fair palms, which showed no signs of calluses despite her daily sword practice. A complex expression washed over her eyes.

She took a deep breath and turned, leaving her room behind.

She arrived at a small wooden house nestled in a corner of the estate, hesitating for a while as she looked at the wooden plaque by the door bearing the word 'Arkhan'.

'No, there's no need to hesitate any longer. Perhaps this is the best course of action...'

Artoria's eyes gradually filled with determination as she lightly knocked on the door.

*Knock! Knock!*

The heart of the red dragon beat rapidly as if only a moment had passed, yet it felt like decades.

Suddenly, Artoria snapped back to reality, staring at the still-closed door.

There was no response.

Artoria tilted her head in confusion, while her 'ahoge' trembled and formed a question mark. She hesitated for a moment, and then approached the door, pressing her ear against it.

"Lily, what are you doing?"

"Hik!" Artoria shrieked cutely as she jumped in surprise, turning to see Kay, who looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"Are you here to see Teacher?" Kay looked confusedly at his sister.

Blushing profusely, Artoria fumbled to explain, like a child caught in a mistake, "I-I'm not... I mean... I... our teacher... he..."

A thought flashed in her mind like lightning, and without thinking, she blurted out, "Our teacher forgot to assign homework today!"

Kay: "..."

He stared at Artoria with a pained expression and said, "Didn't our teacher say we have a few days off because the day of the king selection is approaching? There's no homework, right?"

"O-Oh, right... I forgot." Artoria averted her eyes guiltily and quickly turned to leave.

"Arkhan went to the blacksmith's to pick up something he had custom-ordered. If you want to find him, you can look for him there!"

Kay's voice came from behind, and Artoria nearly stumbled. She immediately changed direction and headed toward the estate's exit.

Watching Artoria's retreating figure, Kay sighed softly.

"Lily..."

===

"Thanks, Uncle Karl." Arkhan said with a smile as he looked at the neatly arranged iron tools in front of him.

Karl felt a bit uneasy and quickly lowered his head. "Please don't say that, Lord God. Being able to help you is already the greatest honor for me."

Arkhan looked at Karl with a hint of resignation. He couldn't even remember how many times he had explained to the stubborn old knight that he was not a damn god. But at this point, he couldn't be bothered anymore. If the man wanted to address him that way, so be it, as long as he didn't kneel every time they met.

"Lord God, what are these things you've forged? What are they for?" Karl asked, finally voicing the question that had been bothering him since Arkhan had handed him the blueprints three months ago.

Arkhan glanced at him and smiled instead of giving a direct answer. "What do you think these things are for, Uncle Karl?"

Karl hesitated for a moment and cautiously replied, "I think these things might be related to soil and crops."

"Oh?" Arkhan's eyes showed a hint of surprise.

Indeed, as Karl had guessed, these tools were closely related to soil and crops. They were a batch of farm tools, mainly sickles, hoes, shovels, and plows. He was still working on more complex tools like curved plows and harrows.

Six months ago, when Arkhan had just arrived in Tintagel, he had been curious about the state of agriculture here. After seeing it for himself, he had almost wanted to gouge out his own eyeballs.

They didn't even turn the soil properly. They simply scattered seeds and called it planting. After that, they didn't tend to the crops at all, no weeding or fertilizing, just letting them grow freely. When the crops matured, they would pluck them by hand, one by one.

At one point, Arkhan had seriously doubted if he had traveled back to primitive times. What was even more despairing was that, during his conversations with Ector, he had learned that Tintagel was not an exception—this was the state of agriculture throughout Britain!

There was no organized knowledge of agriculture and no tools to assist in farming. They were entirely dependent on nature for their food.

The presence of the Age of Gods still hung over this land, which was why, despite such primitive farming methods, their food reserves remained relatively stable.

But Arkhan knew this couldn't last.

The Age of Gods was fading from the earth, and these advantageous conditions would gradually disappear. Humans would have to rely on their own hands to build a future. The first problem they would face was food.

With their primitive farming techniques, famine was almost certain to strike, and many would starve to death when that time came.

Famine was a terrifying thing, and throughout history, the demise of most dynasties had been directly or indirectly related to famine.

So, Arkhan had to start now, changing people's views on food production.

The first thing to do was to teach them how to cultivate and how to use these farm tools. But this was certainly not something he could do alone; he needed a few helpers.

Arkhan sized up Karl with a thoughtful look in his eyes, even though Karl had never seen such tools before, he instinctively felt they had something to do with soil and crops.

"Lord God, did I say something wrong?" Karl asked nervously, shrinking his neck.

"No, you're absolutely right. These tools are indeed related to soil and crops. They have a collective name, and they're called farm tools." Arkhan replied, pointing at the tools and explaining their functions one by one, along with some agricultural tips.

The more Karl listened, the wider his mouth opened, and his eyes grew brighter.

"This... this is incredible, truly incredible! If what Lord God said were true, with these... farm tools and the techniques you mentioned, our food production could increase by at least tenfold!"

Karl looked at Arkhan with deep admiration in his eyes. He truly lived up to the title of a god; these tools he casually crafted could create such miraculous effects.

Such profound wisdom shone as brightly as the sun in the sky!

Ignorant mortals couldn't even grasp a fraction of it!

Arkhan nodded inwardly. Without practical testing, Karl had quickly understood the functions of these farm tools based solely on his description. This old knight indeed had some talent in this regard.

He patted Karl's shoulder and smiled.

"So, are you interested in leaving your mark on this endeavor that could change history, Uncle Karl?"