I, Guinevere, am going to crush you, you curry stick, today!

Even disregarding its magical effects, the barrier is breathtaking in appearance alone—it resembles an inverted tower against the sky, or a sharp sword, its spine disappearing into the distant sky, appearing and disappearing intermittently. The tip of the sword hangs down, directly connecting with the cross atop the castle. From this center, semi-transparent curtains descend from the sky, enveloping an area of ​​dozens of miles. Upon closer inspection, however, it seems to be merely an illusion.

Standing on this side of the hill and looking out, the castle and the surrounding villages seem to have a strange, hazy quality, like a false illusion. The Orkni believe that as long as this barrier exists, the kingdom cannot perish, so even as the threat from the north grows stronger each day, this land can still maintain a relative stability.

“You need the master’s permission to enter the barrier for the first time, but you can come and go freely after the second time… Are you sure you can go through? Otherwise, I can ask Gahoris and the others to get you a permission first.” Guinevere whispered to the pigeon Neoff, and with a little bit of anticipation, she followed behind Gahoris and his sister, stepping into this incredible barrier after a long time.

The thing she feared most didn't happen. Pigeon Neof passed through the barrier naturally, and nothing happened. Hearing the other mutter in her ear, "So powerful, but it's nothing special, huh? Even I couldn't stop it, huh—", the girl didn't respond. Instead, she lowered her head and looked anxiously at the black armor on her body.

The instant she passed through the barrier, she felt a lightness in her body, as if some invisible constraint had been released, which made Guinevere's anticipation grow even stronger. She took a deep breath and tried, as usual, to slowly withdraw the dragon's power she had released...

The dragon claw-shaped handguard flickered a few times, quickly became transparent, and vanished completely in the blink of an eye. Several days later, Guinevere finally saw her palm again. She waited for a moment, and seeing that the dragon power within her remained unchanged, she finally felt relieved.

On the way, she had thought that the power of the barrier might be able to break the "forced binding" of the Dragon Armor, but when it actually became a reality, the girl was still surprised.

Al's sister was surprisingly powerful... Although after so many years, she no longer considered the Morgan le Fay of this world to be the same treacherous and ruthless witch from her past life, who was single-mindedly focused on killing King Arthur, that strong impression still lingered to some extent. Seeing that the barrier Morgan had set up could even suppress Fafnir's power, she subconsciously felt a little nervous, then realized what was happening and shook her head with a wry smile.

What am I thinking? Morgan in this world is a kind, reliable, and great person. The stronger he is, the better... More importantly, I can finally take a shower!

Thinking of this, the girl's mood instantly brightened. If she weren't concerned about her image, she probably would have immediately removed all her armor and washed away the blood and sweat from the past few days in the rain. Oh well, she could take a bath after finishing her business... With these thoughts running through her mind, she followed Gahoris and the others toward the castle's main gate.

……

"Our two children are back."

Upon hearing Morgan Lefebvre's words, Lotte, who was staring at a chessboard in the study, finally put down his chess piece and breathed a sigh of relief: "Finally back."

"Hey, you're still playing chess. Stop looking around. Hurry up, it's your turn."

The old man sitting opposite him slammed his hand on the table, the sound booming like thunder. Lotte rolled his eyes: "I say, King Perinoa, I was just looking for something to pass the time while waiting, why won't you stop now..."

"Nonsense, I'm about to win, you're obviously about to lose and trying to cheat!"

"Who are you calling cheating! To be honest, you old man don't even know the rules of chess, what kind of chess are you playing! I'm not playing anymore!" He finished speaking and was about to overturn the chessboard when Perinoa suddenly glared at him, reaching out to stop him while shouting, "Who told you that you can't play chess if you don't know the rules! I've never paid any attention to those nobles' bullshit rules, and I haven't been king for all these years!"

“That’s right, that’s right, we all know that you are the famous, lonely King of the Islands.”

The old man snorted: "Hmph, kid, let me tell you, I think I'm going to win this game today. Don't even think about running away."

"Actually, I also felt that I was bound to win."

“Nonsense, how could you possibly win—wait, you ‘also’ think so?” Perinoa’s eyes widened as he suddenly noticed one of the words: “You don’t even know the rules?”

"Did I say I could play this kind of chess?" Lott shrugged innocently. "This belongs to Morgan. He only takes it out to play a few rounds when that little Scottish princess comes over. Nobody touches it the rest of the time—"

“Gahoris does know how to play, but he takes at least five minutes to think about each move. So I usually don’t play chess with him,” Morgan added with a laugh.

Perinoa looked utterly incredulous: "So, so you mean that neither of us actually knew how to play, and we just stared at this chessboard, wasting the whole morning?"

“That’s it. But at least there’s some good news: a referee who knows the rules watched the whole thing, so she definitely knows who won and who lost. And I suggest that the loser can only have three drinks at tonight’s celebration—no, one drink, how about that?” Lott suggested enthusiastically, his hands clasped together.

"Of course!"

“Very well, then my dear Queen, please answer the question of the man before you fairly: who won this game of chess?” He stood up, solemnly took Morgan le Fay’s hand, kissed it, and asked politely.

The latter replied in a serious tone, "Actually, the game was already over when your two kings perished together at the very beginning. In other words..."

"Wait, my queen, if you still love me, please stop!"

Lotte's expression changed drastically, and he was about to stop him when Morgan le Fay spoke first, smiling as he finished the second half of his sentence: "Both of you, Your Majesty, may only drink one cup of wine at tonight's banquet."

Looking at the two men whose faces were filled with despair, she placed her fingers together on her chest and smiled faintly: "This is truly good news—thanks to your generosity, we can have more wine and drinks to entertain the returning soldiers."

"No!"

Chapter 201 A Brief Respite (Part 2)

After returning to the castle, the soldiers went to rest, while the Gahoris siblings needed to go and report the results to their parents as soon as possible.

Guinevere had originally intended to go with them, but after all the travel and exhaustion, and with her swordsmanship uniform stained with blood beneath her armor, she felt rather embarrassed. Considering the importance of their business, she simply washed up briefly, changed into Gareth's clothes, and, along with Neover, the pigeon who had been locked in the closet during her bath, went to the study on the second floor.

Unlike many nobles, Loth's first choice for receiving guests was not the reception room, but his own study—although this Lord of Orkney was best known for his formidable martial prowess, he actually gave the impression of being more of a scholar in his daily life.

He was not tall, and always kept his hair neatly styled. His temples were slightly gray. Outside of daily training and the battlefield, he preferred to wear a loose, unadorned, simple robe. His eyes were gentle, as if they contained the light of wisdom.

If he didn't always carry a sharp sword with him and never have a thick book in his hand, everyone who met him for the first time would probably mistake him for a scholar serving the lord, rather than a renowned warrior who had killed countless enemies, because of his gentle and refined demeanor.

She wondered if he and Morgan le Fay had changed at all since she last saw them... The girl had just arrived outside the study, still separated by a door, when she heard a gruff voice coming from inside: "So, your friend Lyons, whose brain is comparable to a monster boar, still hasn't replied?"

The booming voice was so distinctive that Guinevere immediately pictured the disheveled old man and was slightly taken aback.

Why did King Perinoa end up here?

Then another voice replied, "Indeed. And I must correct what you just said." It was Lott.

Seeing that the people inside were talking and not wanting to disturb them, the servant, who was about to knock on the door, paused in mid-air and turned around with some difficulty. The girl smiled at him and shook her head. He smiled gratefully, bowed, and then quietly turned and left.

Guinevere stood behind the door, listening as Lotte continued to correct her in a serious tone: "Even a fool like the Demon Boar knows to fight alongside his companions when he senses danger, or at the very least, to escape as soon as possible. Unlike that idiot Lyons, who, even with the threat right in front of him, still can't let go of his ridiculous ambition."

"so?"

“I think what Lott means is that you should apologize to the boars for your false words just now.”

Even through the door, Guinevere could easily imagine the expressions on the faces of the people inside, and a smile crept onto her lips. Neof, the pigeon perched on her shoulder, couldn't help but laugh out loud: "These people are really interesting... coo!"

"I thought you'd forgotten to coo this time." Knowing this pigeon could read minds, she didn't bother to speak, thinking to herself as she pushed open the door and went inside. The three people in the study looked over at the same time. The middle-aged man sitting behind the table stroked his chin and suddenly laughed: "The chess player has arrived."

"Playing chess?" The abrupt question startled the girl. The veiled woman beside her smiled and waved her hand. "It was just a little incident, don't mind him. Fenna, long time no see, Gareth's clothes still look just as good on you."

"Long time no see." After a simple bow and greeting, Guinevere looked down at her clothes and said with a bitter face, "Actually, I wish... it could be a little narrower."

“Here?” Morgan pointed to his chest.

"It's about height." Even though she knew the other person was teasing her, the girl still corrected them.

She covered her mouth and chuckled a few times: "Actually, you can reconsider my suggestion."

"That suggestion that 'the more children you have, the faster you grow taller'?" The girl rolled her eyes, but then Morgan came up to her, gesturing with his hands to show his height compared to hers, and looked down at her with a smile, the meaning of which was self-evident. She snorted, "Then I'd rather stay this short forever."

"In that case, once Gareth grows taller in a few years, we won't have any clothes that fit you anymore."

“I can bring my own.”

“That’s one way.” Beneath the thin veil, a face that resembled Artoria's, yet was much more mature, held a faint smile. Morgan bent down and gave the girl a hug: “Anyway, it’s good that you’re alright.” Guinevere’s body stiffened for a moment, her hands hesitating before she returned the hug.

Ignored, Perinoa wasn't angry. He crossed his arms and watched the scene with considerable interest: "When we last met, this little girl wasn't this affectionate."

“Her mother died of illness a long time ago. So Morgan always treated her like another daughter.”

"What about you?"

“Me too.” Lott smiled, then sighed half-jokingly, “Actually, we’d prefer her to marry one of my two guys.”

"Then you'll be disappointed," the old man chuckled gloatingly.

“The one who should be disappointed is Leodogran. I promised him that if Fina would marry into the country, I would give half of Orkney to Scotland as a gift.”

"Wow, so generous?"

“We believe that Fenna is far more valuable than this gift. Unfortunately, it seems that this will be an unfulfilled promise.” Lotte looked genuinely frustrated, sighed, then looked aside and smiled, “Alright, dear Queen, you’ve used up all my time for pleasantries. Now, let’s release Fenna and talk about something serious.”

Morgan reluctantly released the girl, his expressive eyes crinkling beneath the veil: "You seem to have lost a little weight. What would you like to eat at the banquet tonight? I'll make it for you..."

"Morgan—"

“We’ll talk about this later,” she whispered in Guinevere’s ear like a mischievous child.

Her breath lifted the veil, brushing against her cheeks and earlobes, causing a slight tickle. Guinevere couldn't help but shake her head, only to see Morgan chuckle and straighten up: "Alright, let's get down to business."

As she spoke, the mischievous air of a young girl vanished, replaced by a noble and elegant demeanor befitting her appearance. It's not unusual for a person to have several different faces, but Morgan's abrupt transformation felt strangely odd.

She had once suspected that the other person might have a split personality, but after several attempts to probe, it didn't match what she knew from her past life. Coupled with a lack of evidence, she had no choice but to let the matter drop for the time being. But after so many years together, she was no longer surprised by it.

The other two seemed to be used to this as well. Seeing Morgan take the lead, Lott leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, and looked at Guinevere: "I've already heard the gist of what happened from Gahoris. Leodogran, has my old friend really become a Shadow Heroic Spirit?"

“That’s right, and my father, who has become a Shadow Heroic Spirit, is far more powerful than other ordinary Shadow Heroic Spirits…” Guinevere nodded.

On her way back to the royal city, she had already learned from the two siblings about Orkney's understanding and research on Shadow Heroes. At this point, she did not raise those common-sense questions that both sides already knew. She simply and concisely described her experience before and after crossing the portal, but only mentioned that someone had helped her, without explaining the Picts in detail.

Like Scotland, Orkney has been at war with the Picts for many years and harbors deep hatred for them. Bringing up the topic of the Picts' desire for an alliance would only backfire. As for Musashi, he is simply described as a wandering swordsman with exceptional skills and a righteous character, so he agrees to help her resolve the anomalies in the North.

As for more complex theories, such as the fact that she actually came from another world, the girl felt that it might be difficult to explain in a short time, so she simply gave up on them for the time being.

Anyway, she didn't lie or deceive anyone. What she said just now was brief, but it was the truth.

"...Therefore, the mastermind behind all this is very likely the goddess named Niman."

After the girl finished recounting her experiences, Lott remained silent for a moment, then bent his finger and tapped the edge of the table, his expression gradually darkening: "In other words, what we are about to face may very well be a true god?"

“To be more precise, it’s a deity who hasn’t recovered much of his power yet.” Morgan shook his head. “If this deity were truly as omnipotent as the legends say, he could have simply appeared and killed us. Why bother with all this sneaking around in such a roundabout way? If it weren’t for Fina, we might never have known that such a deity was lurking in the shadows.”

"There may be another purpose."

“It’s not impossible. But even if the goddess Neman has other plans, what we should do will not change—would the King of Orkney fear a deity who has lived since ancient times?”

"If I say I'm afraid, will my queen look down on me?" Lott seemed to be thinking seriously.

“I think she will,” Morgan replied seriously.

Lotte spread his hands: "You see, since that's the case, I can only answer myself that I'm not afraid at all. And what about King Perinoa?"

“What’s there to be afraid of if even this little girl dares to chase and kill a god?” The old man leaned back, and the chair he was sitting on let out a mournful cry, as if it might fall apart at any moment. “Besides, I’ve been hunting for so many years, and I’ve even faced those fantasy species a few times, but I’ve never hunted a real god—count me in.”

“If this goddess’s followers—if they have any—heard you comparing her to a beast, they’d probably faint from anger. But in any case, we’ve reached a basic consensus.” Morgan crossed his fingers, seemingly smiling happily.

“Whether it’s a human, a god, or some inexplicable monster, since their actions have already endangered the people I protect, I have no reason to ignore it.” After closing his eyes and pondering for a moment, Lot said, “Fenna, we are in the same boat. We, the King of Orkni and Perinoa, will join forces with you to fight against that goddess named Niman. But before that, we first need a feasible plan and more assistance.”

"About this point..."

Just as the opportunity presented itself, Guinevere was pondering how to introduce the little pigeon beside her when suddenly she felt a slight weight on her shoulder. It was Neov who had deactivated her spirit form and appeared before the other three people in the room: "Nice to meet you, Your Majesty. Regarding the plan and aid you just mentioned, we may be able to offer some assistance."

“Oh, so you’re the pigeon Gareth mentioned.” Lotte looked it over with interest and was about to speak when Morgan suddenly interrupted, “Soul fusion, that’s a secret technique of the Danu people, it should have been lost long ago.”

“That’s right,” the pigeon Nioff answered frankly. “But unlike you, the Pict tribe still has a tradition of the Gu.”

"So, you're a Pictite?" The atmosphere in the room suddenly froze as soon as Lotte said this. Guinevere felt a little nervous, but she knew that it would probably be useless to explain at this point. Moreover, since Neof had taken the initiative to talk to her, she probably wasn't just trying to court death. She could only wait and see.

As expected, even when questioned like this, the pigeon Neof remained completely unfazed… or perhaps people simply didn't know what a panicked pigeon looked like. It spread its wings and flew off the girl's shoulder: “We were once Picts, but we are more than that, coo. But before I explain, let me try a different look, coo—”

The familiar scene unfolded before the girl once more. The pigeon's body gradually disintegrated into countless colorful lines, which then rapidly intertwined in the air to form new patterns. In the blink of an eye, the light dimmed, and the tiny white pigeon that was once the size of a palm was no longer the one between Morgan, Lott, and Guinevere.

Instead, it was a large pigeon... over a meter tall.

It stood with its head held high in front of the table, its gaze meeting that of the seated Lot: "Hmm, that's good then. I've heard that in your customs, making eye contact with the person you're talking to is considered very polite. That should show my sincerity, right...?"

"Big Pigeon Neof said politely."

The only response was silence.

"..."

"..."

"...Ha, ha ha ha!" After a long while, Perinoa burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. His poor chair finally gave way and shattered into pieces. The old man fell heavily to the ground.

Lott and Morgan exchanged a conflicted glance, while Guinevere pressed her temples, deeply regretting that she had actually believed the pigeon.

"In short, Neof, if you want to show your sincerity, could you become that purple-haired woman?"

"It's possible... but would it really be okay if it really turned out like that?"

"At least it's better than now."

"Okay... *gulp*."

In front of the group, Neof reluctantly transformed into the purple-haired woman in the tight-fitting clothes from the holy site. In the girl's mind, this form originally represented a dignified and wise elder—this was also her initial impression of Neof.

But because of the cooing all the way, and the farce of turning a pigeon into a live one just now, even when she saw Neof smiling gently and starting to talk about serious topics with Lott and Morgan, who still had strange expressions, that absurd feeling still lingered in her heart.

In any case, the atmosphere is finally not as tense as it was before...

Guinevere thought to herself, somewhat amused and exasperated.

……

After this brief interlude, a series of serious and urgent discussions and arguments ensued. The group talked from noon until evening, only temporarily ending when a servant came to inform them that a banquet was about to begin.

Neof transformed back into a tiny pigeon the size of a palm—a form it seemed to particularly enjoy—and followed the girl for only a short while before being locked back into the closet by Guinevere, who was planning to take another thorough bath…

Chapter 202 Connection

In an era of scarce entertainment options, hunting and banquets have always been popular activities among lords in various regions. The former can demonstrate one's power and martial prowess, while banquets are the best stage for nobles to quickly establish and consolidate their "friendships".

But what was being held now was not the kind of high-class banquet where people sang, drank, and danced in the hall, discussing everything from poetry and literature to the philosophy of life. As darkness gradually fell, people slowly gathered in the castle's open-air garden. The aroma of food wafted out as servants and cooks went about their business, and the roaring firelight illuminated half the sky.

Because Britain's northern borders have long faced the threat of the Picts, and the great forests are home to many wild beasts and even monsters that frequently raid towns and villages, a martial spirit has become particularly prevalent in this land. From commoners to noble lords, whether it's a domestic dispute or a matter of inheritance, they prefer to resolve problems through ancient and sacred duels rather than the rules of "civilization"—simple, brutal, and often very effective.