"Hahaha, did you hear the loser shout today?"
"I know; what kind of stupid dream was he having? Damn, how did the school let an orphan into the elite academy in the first place?"
"Who knows... but let's be quiet; soon we will see what kind of a joke his [Main Troop] will be, maybe goblins or Imps, haha!"
The hallway towards the hall was filled with his classmate's gossip.
Currently, it ant nothing to Lancelot.
A re scar, a forgotten page in his pathetic diary that no longer mattered.
This tended to give him a little abuse because he was a student accepted with a scholarship rather than because of his family's power and nobility.
However, most of these people would die within a year, and he no longer cared about his upbringing and situation; the kind lady at the orphanage was his mother; that was all Lancelot needed.
'She suffered because of my stupid broody attitude, then when I was sent away for the exam... Mother died before I could apologise.'
"In this life, I won't make you sad... Mother."
Today they would get their first units, and Lancelot would only get the most basic goblins; despite this, he survived to the end, as goblins were just like him at the start.
Weak, but able to adapt and suffer any adversity.
He brushed his fingers through his silver hair, thinking it was ti to trim it.
Many of his classmates hated him because of his ssy hair covering most of his face and poor clothes.
'Why was I so ashad of my eyes? When mother... praised them as beautiful?'
Slowly, they fumbled along the dull hallway with a grey floor and white walls, so old signs with cursive writing for each room, and unclear directions.
It didn't take long for them to arrive at the huge arena where everything would begin.
A huge oval around 2 miles long and a mile wide with a huge monolith in the centre with countless words written in an alien language.
This was humanity's only defence against the invading monsters and creatures.
Lancelot ignored his classmates talking about him, instead being calm and quiet and making his plans for the future, as ti was of the essence for him and those he wanted to contact and help protect.
His eyes watched a beautiful girl's face, with long black hair and pretty blue eyes that watched the arena with focused eyes, cheeks like porcelain, with soft pink lips slightly parted as the sunlight illuminated her lovely visage.
Suddenly, she turned to face him, and as their eyes t for a mont, Lancelot felt the world seed to freeze.
'Guinevere...'
A woman that would soon beco the fiancé of his most hated enemy would be cast away by the sa man when he betrayed humanity.
It might have been the last monts of his forr feelings that were in love with her at this ti, but they faded.
He rembered the humiliation this woman caused him when his troops were announced, as she crushed him in the new student duel when matched against him.
'I do not hold a grudge against you, Guinevere; I will only save you because your troops can kill those demons.'
Imdiately after he turned away, the arena began filling with the female students' cheers as a group of handso boys and girls stepped onto the huge stage.
A massive projection created with a mixture of magic and science showed them up close to people high in the stands.
'Arthur!'
Lancelot grits his teeth, almost clenching his fist enough to make his palms bleed, as the girls beside him cheer at the handso male with blonde hair and blue eyes, carrying his signature Excalibur on his waist.
The blood boiled in his chest, causing his breathing to grow ragged, his hidden face red with veins popping out of his forehead.
'I will kill you!'
"Oh my god! It's him!" A pretty girl shouted and shrieked, seeing a tall male with blonde hair walking past; his white robe and black pants showed he was a mber of the second year's elite class.
"I heard he managed to clear a trial at 19! A historic feat!"
"His troops are the mounted knights of Calot!"
"Ah~ I want to beco his sword maiden... Lady Guinevere is so lucky..."
The elite class quickly sat beside the front of the stage, their eyes arrogant but their strength enough to back it up.
A sudden trumpet and orchestric lody caused everyone to quiet down, the symphony of their nation and kingdom that once fell into ruin but rose again.
Slowly after the lody ended, an elderly male stood at the centre of the stage, where the monolith stood and began to speak to the students, his voice stern, old but filled with a regal tone.
"Dear students, it is my pleasure and honour to greet you all here for another year and another selection event!"
The crowd began to howl and chant.
"My na is Professor rlin Emrys, the headmaster and your future guide in our fight against the Chaos that ails our world!"
Many new students beca awed as a brilliant light shone from the headmaster's palm, while Lancelot remained calm, as the nostalgic summoning of troops into the real world caused his heart to beat faster.
"Please greet my most trusted knight. Mordred."
Boom!
A brilliant flash of white and red exploded before a huge knight clad in black armour and a huge axe hanging from his back appeared from nowhere, the sheer appearance of the man causing the entire arena to feel the weight of his aura.
"Mordred, don't scare the new students; give them a dance."
Following his soft words, the knight shrugged his shoulders before performing a comical barn dance, rattling armour and stiff movents allowing the students to feel at ease.
'I rember feeling scared of this knight, haha... Never did I get to enjoy this fun dance.' Lancelot thought, a rare smile showing under his long silver hair.
The dance ended as rlin let him return to the abyss.
A place that humanity knew nothing about neither did the dwarves or elves.
"Now then, because you have been training your body and minds from 12-13 and the odd genius among you even younger. But, do you know why you trained so hard, the sleepless nights and long, arduous days?"
His eyes looked around, magic dancing around his arms as he moved them like a conductor.
"That is... To beco Lord's, to summon beings from another realm, a distant plane of existence to serve you! The highest honour one can receive in this current world!"
"All... For one purpose."
rlin on the stage paced around the stage, his movents fluid as if he was floating, looking at all four sides of the arena before he continued.
"To Defeat the Chaos."
"What is Chaos...? You might ask."
With a flick of his fingers, the arena showed a beautiful forest, slowly being devoured by strange black energy, rotting and mutating the land as monsters and strange creatures began to appear in the dancing mystical image.
"The Chaos is unknown, slowly eating away at our world... Our only way of fighting back is these mythical existences and troops; for so reason, only they can penetrate the veil that protects the demons who live in the chaotic abyss."
He beca solemn, looking at the monolith with millions, if not more, nas as they slowly scrolled and changed.
"No, everyone can beco a lord, and not everyone who becos a lord can fight against Chaos."
"Fear."
"Corruption."
"Betrayal."
"The chaotic energies of the land of Avalon that lingers in a plain between our world and theirs slowly corrupts those with a weak mind or those filled with greed..."
"Students, from the mont you beco a Lord, you might enjoy preferential treatnt, noble titles and countless beautiful n and won who seek your hand in marriage..."
Lancelot listened; he forgot most of this speech in his last life, now his second ti he understood...
Understood too well the truths and sorrow in Professor rlin's voice.
One of the few heroes Lancelot still worshipped and placed his trust in.
'These kids don't understand, still thinking it's a ga...'
"However, from the mont you beco Lord's, your lives are no longer your own, but those that should be dedicated to our glorious kingdom for the greater good of humanity."
"Honour."
"Wealth."
"Love."
"These are worthless if you are to die to the chaotic demons that await you in Avalon."
Suddenly a younger woman dashed over, taking the microphone from Professor rlin before she looked around and spoke with a clear, beautiful voice like a spring breeze or a cold mountain lake.
'Teacher... Evaine...'
A montary tremble in his heart towards the beautiful woman with a voluptuous figure and beauty spot below her eye; she was the one woman who tried to protect and save the students and Lancelot to her last breath.
Also, the lover of Lancelot after the world collapsed.
'You alone... will never suffer...' His hands were now grasping the stone armrest.
He crushed the stone as if it was re clay, as their eyes locked onto each other, and she called sothing out several tis.
The boy beside Lancelot tapped his shoulder, a ginger lad with freckles but a sunny grin; his na was Bryan if he rembered right.
"Lancelot... They are calling you up... it's your ti to beco a lord, congratulations!"
"Eh?"
"Lancelot du Lac! Co to the stage this instant or be forever banished!" Evaine's angry voice sounded lovely to him, like the whispers of love they shared in the dark days.
"Look...it's the loser..."
"Ah, the one who is obsessed with Lady Guinevere."
"Haha... Lancelot du Lac? What lake? He's dirty and unwashed! More like Lancelot the loser!"
Lancelot ignored their words as he gracefully dashed down the stairs, his graceful movents far beyond that of a re student of 10 years.
He also felt strange, the sensation of his body, the muscles under his clothes...
They were beyond him, even in his past life!
Like a flying angel, he leapt onto the stage, his body pressing against Evaine, his arm wrapping around her waist, with an extrely handso face appearing as the wind blew his hair away for the first ti in 10 years.
"!!!"
"Lancelot, was that handso!?" One of the girls shrieked.
Suddenly, the chanting of Lancelot the loser quickly died out, instead replaced with many of the lesser noble won wishing to know him better.
"Hands off , obscene knave!" Evaine's hands tapped him away, her face slightly red as her blonde hair swayed in the breeze.
"Forgive , beautiful teacher; I apologise for being slow to awaken from the enchanting allure of your ever-bewitching erald eyes."
Lancelot didn't give the beautiful woman more than 10 years his senior a chance to respond as he jogged forward, placing a hand on the huge orb before the monolith.
'Goblin, Imp... I don't care! Let's rise to the top and crush the demons!'
[Oh~ my dearest knight, beloved King, your troops not be so tasteless.]
[Call my na, for I am thy queen!]
The wind began to rage, the monolith shuddering, as a whirl of magic began to spiral around Lancelot's body, this was the precursor to the summoning ritual of the Lord's first unit.
A special unit that would stay with them until death.
A unit that could never be replaced or copied.
A haunting but beautiful lody with an enchanting chorus began to play in his mind.
Normally, people would use the standard summoning verse; however, the mont Lancelot went to sing those lines, sothing in his mind was jolted.
The lody inside his mind was not the dedication to the King but rather
"Ode to my beloved Queen"
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