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

“My daughter, twice in a row, you’ve exceeded my expectations. It’s not a good feeling… but it’s not bad either.” She beckoned, and the girl hesitated for a moment before finally moving closer. Maeve hugged her with satisfaction, her fingertips gliding over the smooth blonde hair: “Your hair and eyes are so much like your father’s.”

"Connor?"

“It is the King of Ulster. My enemy, my…lover.”

……

The sound was like the tip of a little finger gently brushing against my heart, an indescribable, slight itch.

The dragon wings behind her suddenly unfurled, and a huge, dark phantom appeared and overlapped with the girl's body, then slowly became distinct again. The terrifying dragon lowered its eyes, its dark golden pupils staring directly at that incredibly familiar face.

"My lovely, lovely child, is the fire of anger in your heart still burning brightly?"

With her pink hair swaying in mid-air, Fafnir asked with a smile.

"Mei-Fu-"

The dragon's roar was deep and resonant, indeed containing a profound anger, but deep within its eyes, there was little turmoil.

The Queen of Connaught smiled, “You are gentler and more soft-hearted than your brothers. So I know you will be able to let go of this matter sooner than they do.”

Why don't you apologize?

“A simple apology can’t bring you back to life, and besides…” she smiled, “whether in life or in death, Maeve never regrets what she does.”

"Truly—" the dragon's voice roared like a long cry, "Hopeless—"

The brief conversation ended there. The black dragon's body suddenly solidified, its wings spread, and it soared into the air: "After this—I hope we will have no further connection—"

"If this is your wish, then I also hope so."

As if unwilling to give even a final glance, Fafnir turned around, and a huge shadow shot down, flying towards the blue moon overhead.

In the moonlight, Maeve seemed to see a transparent figure on the dragon's back.

She smiled faintly, turned around, and met Ritsuka's probing gaze: "Is there anything you want to ask?"

"Miss Guinevere..." After reciting the entire incantation, a strong feeling of exhaustion suddenly surged up, and even the pain in her abdomen lessened a bit. Ritsuka took a couple of breaths, seized the moment, and asked, "Miss Guinevere has a nickname... a term of endearment used by close friends and family, called Fina."

……

"Wait, what was that queen's nickname, Fina? It feels strangely familiar. Wait, let me check her information..."

"...I've got it! Ritsuka, take a look at this...If it's not a coincidence, then this is a very important clue!"

"This is?"

Recalling the two names on that document, Ritsuka pursed her lips: "So, what is her relationship with... your daughter?"

In Maeve's most famous account, "The Bull's Capture," her daughter is mentioned once.

"The Gem of Connaught" - Finnavel.

Tracing back, this name underwent various evolutions over the centuries and eventually became the prototype for another legendary figure.

This person is also very famous.

The Queen of King Arthur.

Guinevere.

……

"Summoning of Heroic Spirits, the designated target is the High King of Ireland throughout history."

"But now, in this 'Hall of Heroes' that is isolated from the outside world and forms its own world, only I, who am not a false creation, can answer this call."

"In other words, this ritual has only two outcomes: either nothing happens, or..."

"Many people are about to awaken from this long-lasting dream."

The girl spoke as if to herself.

But the voice only cried out, "I don't want to die... I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die—"

Like crying and complaining.

"...I don't want to die!"

It was as if a person, in their most desperate moment, was frantically waving their hands and feet as if trying to grab any withered grass, but still slowly sinking into the swamp.

The girl was about to speak.

Suddenly, the loud sound of wings flapping tore through the air and rumbled in her ears. As if sensing something, she looked up and saw the dragon's shadow that blotted out the sky.

And a petite figure sitting on the back of a giant dragon.

One above the other, like two sides of a mirror.

The true owner of this face, Connor and Maeve's daughter, Finnavel, met his gaze the moment they met.

He grinned.

A radiant smile blossomed on her face.

"Long time no see, you naked pervert—"

P.S.: Dreams are always hard-won; there are probably only one or two chapters left to finish. These chapters felt rushed, so if you have any questions or anything you don't understand, please leave a comment in the bullet comments section. Don't forget to vote!

Yesterday, Luan Shi Qingbai walked through the blazing streets carrying a boxed lunch.

Chapter 298 The Dream Seen by a Young Girl (Part Thirteen)

Guinevere tilted her head back.

As far as the eye could see, the dragon's wings blotted out the sky and the moon. A spirited girl on the dragon's back gave a cheerful greeting, and in a daze, she seemed to have returned to that long and tedious period of time.

Only when a beam of light shines obliquely in, accompanied by that familiar greeting, will the blank consciousness begin to stir.

"hello."

"My name is Fennaville."

"What about you?"

"Why aren't you saying anything? Can't you speak, you mute... Oh, someone's coming, I have to go, see you next time!"

Time flows like water, and the yellowed pages of the book slowly turn. She still remembers that final moment: the girl enters the temple and slowly kneels before the cauldron.

"I want to make a wish."

Her voice, usually either irritable or lively, was strangely calm at this moment. Although the surroundings were still that familiar darkness, she seemed to "see" that small figure, hands clasped in front of her chest, her expression resolute.

“Tell me your wish—”

The inorganic voice of the Great Cauldron echoed throughout the hall. A radiant light seemed to shine upon the girl's round cheeks, its golden glow revealing a hint of piety: "I hope."

"Let him live."

The once indifferent heart was suddenly stirred violently by these extremely calm words.

"Take whatever price you have to pay to achieve this wish."

Before Da Fu could state the price, the girl spoke first. A hint of hesitation and fear flashed in her blue eyes, as if she was afraid that Da Fu's words would shake her resolve. Then, she said firmly, "I'm not afraid!"

"In that case——"

The sound is like a loud bell.

"What you desire, you will surely achieve."

The girl smiled contentedly.

In the darkness, a single tear fell silently. A heart worn down by time was revived once more.

……

On the dragon's back.

Finnaville watched all of this quietly.

The figure standing with a sword in hand came into view, exactly the same as the scene I had once glimpsed by chance.

From birth, she was always a good child, a well-behaved daughter to her parents, a gentle and caring sister to her brother, and so to all her friends and strangers: a soft, powerless little lamb.

But almost no one knows that King Connor of Ulster was actually a woman.

Therefore, as Connor and Maeve's nominal daughter, Finnville naturally has a little-known background.

You need a daughter.

Long ago, a reclusive druid told Connor this.

"She will inherit your abilities and, at some point in the future, save everyone, including you."

"But I am a woman—"

"Use this horn, forged from a dragon's horn, fill it with fine wine, drip in the blood of yourself and another person, drink it, and then you will..."

In a clandestine deal, Connor and Maeve married, but soon turned against each other, and Maeve, now Queen, gave birth to her only daughter.

Almost no one knows that Maeve's daughter, who seems to have little talent and spends her life in the shadow of others, inherited her father Connor's ability—future vision.

He surpassed his father, witnessing a scene that even his father could not see.

The flow of souls goes on and on, without beginning or end, but Finnaville saw its own end.

"In this world, every living thing, even inanimate objects, ultimately has an original origin."

"That's why the Great Cauldron has been unable to fuse with you for so long."

Looking down at the figure and the cold blade of the sword, she said, "But to fight against the Great Cauldron and seize control of the dream world, one must become the ultimate supreme king."

"Only in this way can we gain the support of the phantoms."

"so."

"You need a special origin."

A smile played on her lips, her eyes seemed to sparkle, and her face radiant with a bright smile, revealing small dimples and sharp canine teeth: "It's quite a coincidence, the most suitable origin for you happens to be right here."

A long, snow-white river rushes by; upon closer inspection, one can see that the white expanse is actually countless tiny points of light converging to form the river.

Those were fragments of memories, individual lives, a manifestation of time and history. And within them, a barely perceptible point of light suddenly detached from the long river, floated up, and slowly flew into the air. That light was faint, yet warm.

"From this day forward, there may be other Guineveres in the world, and other people will be born, grow old, and eventually die either in great glory or in obscurity, but..."

That wouldn't be me anymore.

Various images seemed to flash through those blue eyes, only to vanish in an instant, leaving behind a large cauldron standing in the center of the palace. On this ancient and unchanging divine relic, a crack was slowly opening.

……

The Cauldron of Wishes is always fair.

To give something, you must correspondingly lose something else.

The girl withdrew her gaze, her mind as clear as a mirror, the past events, their causes and consequences, all perfectly clear.

At the same time, she also learned about her origins.

Or.

What was the origin of that artificial being, the "creation" named Finnaville?

Like a lamp flickering in the dead of night.

Someone took the lamp and handed it to her.

Its name is Hope.

For the former Finnavel, hope was a pair of eyes that could see through the fog of the future, and even more so, a determination to remain steadfast and unwavering despite knowing the truth.

So what is hope to her now?

The girl couldn't help but ask herself.

But there's no need to think; the answer is already there.

"Klausolas".

"My lord."

"Is everything settled in this matter?" she asked.

"it's not true."