In Britain, the Noble Phantasm: Divine Key

Court ministers, led by Feuerius and Hyperion, stood on the left, while royal nobles, led by Duke Morgan and Duke Marco, stood on the right.

Yanan glanced at the two empty seats and said calmly, "Have King Gwent and King Dehebas not arrived yet?"

The Minister of Ceremonies, as if waking from a dream, quickly stepped forward and said, "The two kings encountered some unexpected circumstances on the way and may arrive a little later."

“In that case, there’s no need to wait for them.” Yanan said calmly. “Let’s begin the coronation ceremony.”

"Yes."

The Minister of Ceremonies lowered his head, secretly smiling bitterly to himself.

Even though he hadn't been officially crowned king yet, he still unconsciously felt awe towards the man before him and subconsciously obeyed his orders.

Is this the charm of the chosen king?

He sighed inwardly, turned to face the crowd, and announced loudly, "The ceremony for bestowing the title of king shall begin!"

*Clap clap clap clap—!*

Thunderous applause erupted.

Feuerius stood up, his grey-brown eyes sweeping over the crowd. His wrinkled, aged face remained calm as he spoke: "Fifteen years ago, King Uther led his army in a decisive battle against King Vortigern at Hadrian's Wall in the North, ultimately suffering a crushing defeat. On his deathbed, he asked the great sage Merlin where the hope for Camelot lay. The great sage prophesied: 'Fifteen years from now, a man will emerge from this land who will pull the sword from the stone, carrying the ideals and hopes of the people, and restoring Camelot to its former glory!'"

"Now, the one who pulled the sword from the stone has appeared—he is none other than Arthur, the chosen king of Camelot, son of King Uther!!"

Yanan stood up and waved to the crowd, which immediately drew cheers from them.

"Arthur! Arthur!"

Feuerius sat back down, and Huberan next to him frowned slightly and said, "What do you mean by this? Didn't we agree to expose his true colors here?"

"That's your job. I'm only responsible for activating the magic array; I don't care about anything else," Felius said calmly.

Tsk, old fox... Hubert's expression darkened slightly, he snorted coldly, and turned his head away.

Anan swept his gaze over everyone, slowly exhaled, and said in a deep voice:

Forty years ago, the great King Joseph founded a new nation on this land, which was born of hope and adhered to the creed of peace and development.

"Fifteen years ago, King Vortigern betrayed Britain and led the Anglo-Saxons to invade this land, personally shattering this hope and creed into pieces."

"We are now facing a great struggle to test whether this nation, or any nation born of hope and committed to the principles of peace and development, can endure. We are gathered here to fight for our shared beliefs, and I know that it is entirely appropriate and fitting for us to do so."

"I have a dream."

"I dream that one day we will drive these invaders out of this land; I dream that one day I will be able to slay the evil white dragon with my own hands and use his blood to pay tribute to the heroic souls of those who fought for this land!"

"I dream of a day when our nation is strong and prosperous, our people are wealthy, and everyone can live a happy and joyful life! I dream of a day when the people of Camelot can always move forward with hope and not be discouraged by temporary setbacks!"

"I dream that one day, deep valleys will be closed, high mountains will be leveled, forks in the road will be made into straight paths, and winding trails will be made into thoroughfares, and the light of hope will be restored, and all living beings under heaven will pay homage."

"I dream that one day, the light of hope will be spread to every corner of this land, from the snow-capped mountains to the deep valleys, from the endless mountains to the boundless plains, from the smiling faces of children to the hearts of others."

"This is the dream of the king who bears the name of the chosen one, and it is also my innate mission!"

Anan pulled the sword from the stone and pointed it towards the sky.

"With sword as my witness, with my name as my oath, even if there are countless difficulties and dangers, I will bravely move forward and never retreat!"

People gazed at the magnanimous king, their hearts surging with excitement like the ocean.

The elegance of the past was completely abandoned, and everyone raised their arms and shouted, venting their inner excitement in the most primal way.

"Arthur! Arthur!"

"Arthur! Arthur!"

The place was bustling with noise!

Anan retrieved the sword from the stone and returned to his throne.

The Minister of Ceremonies took a deep breath, stepped forward, and announced loudly, "Confer the title of King!"

"To be granted the title of King!"

"To be granted the title of King!"

Amidst the cheers of the crowd, a group of attendants emerged from the side carrying a tray. On the tray lay a red silk ribbon upon which rested a magnificent crown, adorned with exquisite gemstones arranged like stars, refracting a dazzling brilliance.

Everyone's eyes were fixed on the crown that symbolized Camelot's supreme royal power.

Next, once this crown is placed on Anan's head, he will truly become the King of Camelot!

But at this moment—

"and many more!"

The sudden sound startled everyone, and they all turned to look in the same direction.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone, Hyperion calmly stood up and pointed to Anahn above.

"He cannot be the king of Camelot!"

Wow!

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire room erupted in uproar!

"Bullshit!" Duke Marco slammed his fist on the table, his face contorted with rage. "Huberan, do you even know what you're saying?!"

“Minister Hubert An, this is a very serious and formal occasion. Please do not speak nonsense.” The Minister of Ceremonies frowned slightly.

"You'll soon find out whether I'm talking nonsense or not."

Huberian turned to face the crowd and said loudly, "Before revealing the truth, there is something I need to tell you: the so-called prophecy of the Chosen King is nothing but a hoax."

"scam!?"

Everyone was shocked to discover that the prophecy that had spread throughout Britain was actually a hoax.

Feuerius closed his eyes and clenched his fists silently.

“I know this is incredible, but it is indeed the truth,” Hyperion said calmly. “Fifteen years ago, after the war in the North, the late king knew that his days were numbered, and his designated successor had just been born and was not capable of shouldering the heavy responsibility of guarding the country. So the late king discussed with Merlin and made the so-called prophecy of the chosen king, but the purpose was only to buy time for that successor. As for the sword in the stone, it had long been sealed by Merlin, and no one but that successor could pull it out.”

Everyone looked at each other in bewilderment. If what Huber said was true, wouldn't that mean there was no such thing as a chosen king?

"Besides the late King and Merlin, only we ministers who were entrusted with the important task of guarding the country know about this matter."

Feuerius nodded slightly; "That is indeed the case."

The other ministers looked at each other, sighed, and nodded in unison.

"So what if Arthur isn't the chosen king?" Duke Marco sneered. "No matter what, Arthur is still the late king's son. He pulled the sword from the stone and even gained the recognition of the eldest princess. What makes you think he can't be the king of Camelot?"

"Please don't get agitated, Duke Marco, I haven't finished speaking yet," Hyperion said calmly. "There's something else very important: the heir Merlin took away wasn't a boy at all, but a girl!"

girl!?

Everyone was startled, and a hint of panic appeared on Artoria's face as she stood behind Anaen.

"So everyone should understand now, right? The guy sitting on the throne isn't Uther's son at all!" Hyperion said in a low voice, pointing to Anahn above. "Look at his black hair and eyes, do they have any resemblance to King Uther?"

“But what if it came from his mother?” a nobleman said.

"King Uther has only ever had one wife, Princess Iglene. I remember it very clearly; she had blond hair and green eyes. I'm sure all of you Camelot's compatriots remember that."

The nobles of Camelot nodded in agreement. Although Princess Iglen was usually quite low-key and rarely appeared in public, they were still very aware of this information.

Huberian continued, "I can also tell you something else. The heir chosen by King Uther is actually the lady standing here now. Her full name is Artoria Pendragon, and she is King Uther's biological daughter!"

Seeing everyone's eyes turn to her, Artoria couldn't help but show a hint of panic and involuntarily took a few steps back.

Kai gritted his teeth, stood in front of Artoria, blocking everyone's view, and stared fiercely at Hyperion like a lion ready to devour its prey.

Hubert was unconcerned and continued, “Do you all see this? The hypocritical king sits high on the throne, while the true heir stands aside as his guard. How ridiculous is this? I can already foresee it. Once this gets out, Camelot will be utterly disgraced. But even so, I will not allow this country to fall into the hands of a despicable thief!”

"That's right! This is our country, how can we tolerate an outsider taking control!"

"He must have used some method to bewitch King Uther's child, which is why he was able to seize the throne from him!"

"That guy is a shameless thief, get him out of here!"

"Get off!"

Seeing the situation was turning out so well, Count Hughgen and the nobles he had contacted immediately jumped out and launched a fierce offensive against Yanan.

Seeing this, the other nobles couldn't help but show hesitation on their faces.

Anxiety appeared in the eyes of Duke Marco and the others. If this continued, the coronation ceremony would really fail!

"Shut up, all of you!"

Suddenly, a sharp shout, like a thunderclap, instantly suppressed the surging sound waves.

Morgan stood up, her delicate face seemingly covered with frost, her pale golden eyes piercing into Huberan like sharp swords: "I have already said that Arthur is my brother, Huberan. Do you think you know more about my family affairs than I do?"

“Your Highness, I had no such intention.” Hubert bowed slightly to Morgan, neither humble nor arrogant. “It’s just that this person has already bewitched your own sister, and I’m worried that you may have unknowingly fallen into his trap as well.”

"You've certainly thought this through thoroughly," Morgan sneered, her eyes icy cold. "But I, this princess, am determined to say he's my brother. What can you do about it?"

“In that case, let’s let the evidence speak for itself,” Hubert said.

"Evidence?" Morgan frowned slightly.

"The evidence is right here."

Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice came from outside, and four figures stepped into the palace.

Two of the middle-aged men were dressed in luxurious clothes, and their demeanor and mannerisms exuded a clear air of superiority. One of them was shrouded in a black cloak, making it impossible to see his face, which gave him a mysterious aura.

Finally, there was an elderly man dressed as a priest. Although he looked very old, his back was still straight, and his kind and gentle appearance made people feel close to him.

Chapter Seventy: "Who said King Uther only prepared one successor?"

"King Gwent, King Dehebas, and... the Archbishop of Cantreber?"

The group exchanged bewildered glances; the way things were unfolding today seemed to be getting increasingly strange.

“As you all probably know, the great late king is now resting in the Holy Church, so I asked His Excellency the Archbishop to obtain some hair from the late king’s body. With these things, we can prove whether this guy is indeed the late king’s child,” said Huber.

"Huberan, you're asking for it!!!"

Morgan's eyes flashed with uncontrollable rage. He pointed a finger, and a magic circle instantly formed, unleashing a terrifying pillar of magical light.

hum-

The air suddenly trembled slightly, and the powerful beam of magical light dissipated in the blink of an eye.