King Arthur fought bravely in the front of his knights against a group of bandits and thiefs. Sir Lancelot fighting against the second leader of the group. They had raided the kingdom and terrorized the citizens, stolen from bakeries and homes. They had to be put to a stop. The blue hedgehog was busy chasing away the leader of the thiefes, cursing loudly at them as the few thieves scurried away quickly with fear. Suddenly, there was a scream of pain followed armor being shattered by a weapon. A thud sounded from behind Arthur, making him turn around quickly with his ears perked up on alert. Horror then hit him as he saw a bandit pulling a blade from Sir Lancelot's abdomen, who fell to the ground, coughing and sputtering. Blood spewed out in different directions, quickly flowing out like a river onto the ground as Lancelot trembled, wide-eyed and pale and barely able to hold himself up. He could hardly breath, too. The knight was able to handle lots of things, but copious amounts of blood from his own body or a loved one's was one thing that always brought him too his knees. Lancelot just couldn't handle it—not after what happened to his family. King Arthur rushed over as quickly as he could, gathering Lancelot in his arms urgently with glossy emerald eyes. "Lance—" he muttered, voice shaky before he shook his head, feet tapping with worry. "Hold on!" the blue hedgehog cried to Lancelot, holding him tight as he ran to the infirmary. "King Arthur...." Sir Lancelot uttered breathlessly, body trembling and weak as the King carried him away with a few knights following. He felt sick. Light headed. A quiet, shocked whimper left Lancelot's lips as his body turned numb and the voices around him faded. He had barely even registered he was already in the infirmary. "Arthur—!" the black and red hedgehog called weakly, the words barely there as he passed out.

———

Sir Lancelot woke up with a gasp, his quills bristling dangerously as he sat up in the bed, panting heavily with wide eyes and sweaty fur. "Your Majesty!" he yelled into the room, his head quickly turning around as he tried to become more oriented. The room was empty. Nobody was around. It was just Lancelot in the room, the silence accompanied by a ticking clock. The knight groaned as the excruciating pain finally hit him, putting a hand over his abdomen and another over his mouth as the chilling horror of what just happened a few hours ago fell back into his memory. Sir Lancelot buried his hands in his quills, chest heaving quickly and body shaking as he sat on the edge of the bed with a pale face.