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

"Moreover—this island is a very special place."

The witch paused here, and the torchlight around them seemed to dim suddenly, but when Guinevere looked over, it seemed to be just a psychological illusion.

"The land across the sea has long since become the world of humans. After all, land connects countries, and the laws of physics can be rewritten relatively quickly. But this island is different. Even today, it still retains the atmosphere and mystery of the mythical era. This is a characteristic of small island nations. The more isolated they are from the mainland, the more likely the land is to retain mystery. So even though dragons no longer exist, secondary fantasy species such as giants, fairies, and the demonic boars and demonic horses that ravage various places are still active in reality."

“Now, Guinevere, you can try to think about a question.”

Her clasped hands were slightly raised, supporting her thin chin. Gretel leaned forward slightly, her pupils dilated and empty in the shadow of her pointed hat. At the same time, it seemed as if a gaze was looking in her direction from somewhere.

The unease in her heart grew even stronger. Guinevere looked back and saw the witch before her force a stiff smile: "After the Age of Gods ended, where did those gods go?"

*******

"...But now, Sir Tristan has learned the truth from Royal. Perhaps one day he will avenge his parents, march before you, Your Majesty, and behead you with a single sword."

In Cornwall, within the royal palace, one person spoke in a sweet, cloying voice, while another sat on the throne, eyes closed and silent, his face equally expressionless, making it impossible to discern his thoughts.

After a long pause, he finally replied, "Impossible."

“Impossible. Could it be that what happened twenty years ago really had nothing to do with you, Your Majesty?” Terenas’ tone was more like a taunt than a question. Marco was silent for a while. “Even if he knew the whole story, he would never be my enemy. Tristan is too sentimental and too soft-hearted. That’s why he can’t sit in this position, and that’s why… I keep Tristan by my side. Whether you’re trying to sow discord or trying to use this to incite Tristan to rebel against me, it will all be in vain.”

"Hehehe, what a touching trust." The fat witch chuckled a few times, resting her cheek on her hand. "But this time, Your Majesty, you have misunderstood. Of course, I understand that with Tristan's character, there is absolutely no way he would harbor the slightest rebellious thought towards you, but you are different."

"Oh?" Marco raised his eyelids slightly, glancing lazily at the woman below without replying. The fat witch chuckled to herself, "You've truly taught Tristan very well. Anyone who witnesses his words and actions will sincerely praise him, saying that this is a true knight—hating evil as if it were his enemy, humble and upright, willing to sacrifice his life for justice and loyalty—but for you now, isn't this kind of knight with a noble spirit an obstacle?"

"Precisely because he is a noble and upright knight, even knowing that you were the one who destroyed Ronua, the kindness of raising him for twenty years will make him suppress all his emotions. He knows that even if these emotions were to erupt, it would only make things worse. Between his own feelings and those of his people, Tristan will ultimately choose the latter."

"But if Tristan knew that the king he serves, his only relative in this world, is willing to plunge all the people in his territory into pain and despair in order to continue living... what choice would he make if he knew this? His Majesty knows the answer, so I don't need to say any more."

"..."

This time, the silence on the throne lasted even longer. Terena waited silently with a smile on her face, showing no impatience whatsoever, until the old and weary voice rang out again: "You said it yourself, that as long as the ritual proceeded smoothly to the final step, all the unreasonable actions that had been taken until now would cease. And I would gain decades of life... You said it yourself, and I have done everything according to your instructions."

"For a year, excessive requisitioning of food and wealth left the common people either starving to death or venturing into the forest only to be killed by monsters... Giving power to those who were licentious and cruel, letting them do as they pleased, plunging the people of Cornwall into despair and suffering... Spreading my death among hundreds and thousands to buy time for the ritual. I even sacrificed an entire kingdom for this. And now, are you going to say that all of this was a lie?"

By the end of his words, a murderous aura was already gathering.

The moment she sensed the murderous intent, Terena's expression changed, and she suddenly revealed an exaggerated, even fake, look of fear: "Your Majesty has misunderstood again. I never intended to, and I would never dare to, deceive you. It is only to ensure that the final step of this ceremony can proceed smoothly that Your Majesty needs to be mentally prepared."

"What kind of mental preparation?"

“Hehehe… The exchange of life and death naturally has its limitations. Your Majesty originally had less than a day left to live, but until now, by sharing death with others, you have reduced the lifespan of all the people of Cornwall by a full thirty percent, thus extending your life by another six months. But the final step of the ritual is to use this blessed dagger—” Terena flicked her sleeve, and from somewhere produced a dagger with a blade that shimmered with a faint green light: “—to kill a person and transfer their original lifespan entirely to you.”

As she spoke, she walked step by step up the steps to Marco, presenting him with the dagger in both hands.

The king gazed silently at the dagger coated with poison. Beside him, a voice, sweet as honey and brimming with allure, whispered: "And this person must be a blood relative of Your Majesty..."

P.S.: This part was very difficult to write. I struggled to finish this chapter. I'll update again after it flows smoothly. Also, it seems like they've been cracking down a bit lately. If anyone is raising a pet, I'll delete it immediately without hesitation... Last but not least, please vote!

Chapter Forty-Six: Truth or Illusion (Part Two)

According to Grettor's description, after humans became the greatest power on the planet, the planet's own rules changed, and the age of the gods gradually came to an end. The death of King Solomon accelerated this change, and by the time of the fifth century AD, the age of gods had completely ended in most regions. Only a few relatively isolated islands, such as Britain, still retained a small part of the mystery.

Most of the fantastical creatures that originally inhabited this planet, such as dragons and fairies, obeyed the planet's will, ceding the "outer side" to humanity and abandoning their physical bodies to travel to the planet's inner side as souls. Only a few, unable to travel to the other side for various reasons or unwilling to accept this fact, remained. The former mostly went into hiding and posed no threat to humanity; however, it is foreseeable that for hundreds of years to come, the latter will be a major challenge for humankind.

But as Grettor posed her final question, Guinevere finally realized that she seemed to have overlooked a crucial aspect of the matter.

The so-called Age of Gods refers to a time long ago when gods still roamed the earth and lived among mortals. Although she understood this, perhaps influenced by her previous life, she always subconsciously regarded it as a simple legend. But unlike her previous life, the gods in this world truly existed—in the game she played in her previous life, there were several characters who were related to deities.

The well-known Hercules, Cú Chulainn (I really don't know why this name is a sensitive character), Medea the betrayer, and so on—although I haven't seen these characters in person, the existence of Artoria means that we cannot simply deny that these are all fictional legends.

That being the case.

If gods truly exist, or at least once existed, where are they now, after the end of the Age of Gods? And why would Gretel raise this question at this time?

Could it be…? Her eyes flickered a few times, and Guinevere tried to answer, “I once heard my father and the druids say that the gods left this world hundreds of years ago, but they didn’t go far; they are still protecting us in another world.” She paused, observing Gretel’s expression, “According to you, Madam, with very few exceptions, most of the fantasy species have moved to the far side of the planet. So… could the gods’ so-called ‘departure’ mean something similar?”

"So you think they, like the dragons and fairies, ultimately chose to leave?" But the witch remained seated, motionless, her face expressionless. In Guinevere's memory, the witch hadn't even blinked from the moment she appeared to be there, her entire being like a stone statue, eerily shrouded in firelight and shadow.

"It's just a guess." She shook her head. "To be honest, I don't even know what the other side of the world means, let alone deduce anything... Madam, it's too much of a bully for you to ask such a question."

“That makes sense.” Gretel’s lips moved slightly as she spoke in a cool voice, “I just didn’t expect Leodogran’s daughter to be so ignorant. Should I apologize to you?”

Had she offended her somehow...? Guinevere's expression became somewhat strange, but after thinking about it, she felt that the blame likely fell on her father. Wasn't that how it always went in the books? First, a passionate romance, then abandonment, then a chance encounter with the old lover's child, and another story full of blood, tears, and inevitable deaths... The transmigrator's imagination was exceptionally rich at this moment; a jumble of thoughts swirled in her mind before she suppressed them.

"Madam, you're quite the conversationalist."

Unable to hold back any longer, Guinevere smirked and replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"Yes, everyone says that." A matter-of-fact tone.

"..."

Seeing the girl fall silent, the thin face beneath the brim of the hat seemed to smile—but this smile was different from Gretel's usual demeanor; instead, it resembled that of a child who had successfully pulled off a prank, with a hint of cunning and smugness.

Guinevere, still reeling from that remark, failed to notice the fleeting change in her expression. When Guinevere's gaze fell upon her, the witch reverted to her statue-like indifference: "It seems no apology is needed. Let's get back to the main topic. Assuming your guess is correct, the next question is—"

"Only souls, or similar beings, can move from the ground to the inner side. Yes... for example, you know giants, right? They can neither break free from physical shackles nor become spirits like fairies, so they can only live in constant fear of being driven out by humans and civilization. This is a rule set by the planet, which even those powerful beings revered as gods cannot ignore. In other words... unless one is originally a spirit, something will inevitably be left behind when moving to the other side."

At this point, Guinevere suddenly realized: "You mean... physical shackles, the body that binds the soul?"

Gretel seemed to glance at her, neither confirming nor denying, but said, "Even without a soul, sometimes an empty shell has far more uses than you can imagine."

Gods, the other side of the world, soulless bodies… Although Guinevere was still completely baffled by Gretel’s description of the other side of the world, the limited information she had gathered was enough for her to draw a conclusion. She suddenly looked up: “Could it be that the Nine Witches… this mark is related to the body of a god?!”

A hint of appreciation finally appeared in Gretel's eyes. At that moment, the surrounding firelight visibly dimmed once more, and in an instant, the two figures became blurred, while the other's voice seemed to grow increasingly indistinct: "Once, a deity fell...her power...usurped...and took over..."

At the first sentence, everything seemed relatively normal, but Guinevere immediately felt the distance between them suddenly widen. The words following "the fall of the god" were fragmented and indistinct, the voice seeming to come from a very distant place: "Madam?" As soon as the words left her lips, the fragmented voice became increasingly distorted, as if she were in the midst of a raging storm: "...Avalon, in Avalon, you will see everything with your own eyes...but before that...Merlin..."

The sounds of wind and rain gradually became clearer in the surroundings.

The torchlight, along with everything else in the cave, receded and vanished rapidly, like a dream about to end. Guinevere sat there, instinctively reaching out, but touching nothing. In the blurring of reality and illusion, she finally heard Gretel's voice: "Go find Merlin, go find the Flower Magician… In this world, only that all-knowing genius can save you from your fate of death…"

It was as if someone had pressed the stop button.

The sounds of wind, rain, and voices all ceased abruptly. The firelight vanished, darkness surged in, only to be dispelled by a bright flash before her eyes. She stood in utter darkness, with only a beam of light shining obliquely in the distance ahead—

Looked up.

It was a golden scabbard.

……

The crackling and popping sound of flames burning.

It's a campfire.

"Cough, cough cough cough cough!"

His consciousness slowly returned amidst violent coughing. His throat felt like it was on fire, both painful and burning. As he coughed, he wondered if he might have coughed up blood.

But after turning over, I didn't see any blood.

This put his mind at ease a little, and as his mood relaxed, he began to feel pain. The pain, as if his entire body had been hammered, almost made him faint again for a moment, but he gritted his teeth and endured it. Perhaps his lip or something else had been bitten, because a sweet taste filled his mouth.

"Are you okay?"

An unfamiliar voice. It came from the left. His whole body tensed up, then relaxed—in his current state, he probably couldn't even beat a goose, and even if he encountered any danger, he would be at the mercy of others… The man asked again, and he struggled to sit up by the campfire, glanced around, and exhaled: “No…it’s nothing.”

This was a naturally formed cave. Outside, the wind and rain were still blowing, but the intensity of the storm before I lost consciousness had subsided. My throat was still burning with pain. I wanted to drink water, but I was unclear about my current situation. My mind was hazy, and I was just instinctively on guard against my surroundings. But the next moment, a water bag was handed to me.

"This is……"

"Drink it. This is rainwater that was just collected. If you have any doubts, I can go and collect another bag. Although Fina said that rainwater should be boiled before drinking, otherwise it will upset your stomach... we don't have that option right now, so you can only drink it like this." The voice was a little closer than before, but he didn't even realize when the other person had approached... Even if he was seriously injured, he shouldn't have become so oblivious.

Despite his surprise and doubt, he gritted his teeth, barely managed to raise his arm, took the water bag, and tried to pour it into his mouth, but his hand trembled, and half of the water in the bag spilled onto his body, chilling him to the bone.

Do you want me to feed you?

"No...no need." With difficulty, she raised her hand again, about to bring it to her lips, when she suddenly noticed a flower pattern embroidered on the water bag. On a whim, she didn't put it directly to her lips, but instead tilted the water bag in mid-air and gulped down a few mouthfuls—washing her face in the process, which cleared her groggy mind a little.

"Thank you."

He handed the empty water bag back and glanced over, where he saw a boy with blond hair tied in a ponytail, dressed in ordinary clothes, squatting down beside him, looking at him with concern.

His gaze suddenly sharpened.

The boy had a sword hanging at his waist. He squatted there, reaching out to take the water bag, but his right hand remained hanging at his side. He looked quite ordinary.

Logically speaking, such a thin, teenage boy, even wielding a sword, should pose no threat to him. However, he felt that as long as he showed even the slightest hostility or threat—

Before he could make any move, the sheathed iron sword would be pressed against his neck.

This is just a gut feeling.

But this intuition came from countless life-or-death battles.

He relied more on these irrational feelings than on thinking. Some people joked that he was like a wild beast, but he took it as a compliment.

"You... saved me?"

"uncertain."

The boy held an empty water pouch in his left hand, while his right hand was poised to draw his sword at any moment. He looked at him seriously and said, "Tell me your origins and why you are being hunted by the knights under King Marco. Your answer will determine whether I save you or... kill you."

"can."

The warm firelight calmed him, and he even managed a smile. This smile pulled at the scars on his face, causing more blood to flow: "My name is Royal..."

It's only just begun.

Suddenly, the boy turned his gaze to the side, and at the same moment he turned his head, a light suddenly appeared in that direction. He looked over in confusion.

There was a golden scabbard in the corner, but no matching sword. He hadn't noticed the scabbard because the campfire light hadn't reached it and he'd only glanced at it briefly. The sudden light came from the scabbard. The light gradually condensed in front of the scabbard, forming the shape of a person. Then the light dissipated, and the person was clearly revealed in his sight.

It was a blonde, blue-eyed, petite girl. She looked no more than fourteen or fifteen years old. For some reason, she was sitting in a chair, her left hand outstretched as if trying to grab something, but naturally touching nothing. The girl who emerged from the light maintained this strange "sitting posture," and looked over as well. Her eyes blinked a few times, then widened in apparent surprise: "Ah—"

The words have not yet fallen.

She seemed to finally realize the difficulty of this position; her legs went weak, she lost her balance, and sat heavily on the ground.

"--ah!"

The call that had not yet been uttered turned into a gasp of surprise.

……

"Is this enough?"

All the torches went out, and in the pitch-black environment, a piercing sound, like fingernails scraping against fish scales, echoed eerily.

“That’s more than enough.” Another voice replied, “My dear Gretel, thank goodness you set up a communication spell on Royal beforehand, otherwise I might still be struggling with how to contact those two little ones unnoticed. Honestly, Vivian, that yandere stalker, was troublesome enough, and now there’s this whole mess of other things on top of that… and you’re dead too.”

As she spoke the last sentence, there seemed to be a slight sigh. At one side of the stone table, Gretel remained seated in that statue-like posture, but opposite her, where Guinevere had just sat, another figure had appeared.

There was no light; in the darkness, only a vague outline of a body could be seen. The person was tall and slender, wearing a loose, light-colored robe with the hood pulled back. Long hair cascaded down like a waterfall, some of it even touching the ground. She carried a shepherd's long wooden staff and appeared to be a woman in her early twenties. "That's settled then. It's been so long since we last met. To be honest, I'm quite reluctant to part ways so soon... If fate allows, let's meet again somewhere in the future."

With that, Gretel waved her hand, then fell silent for a moment. Suddenly, she leaned forward and let out a venomous shriek: "Avenge me—Merlin, avenge me! Kill her! Kill Terena!"

boom!

With a muffled thud, the emaciated body crashed onto the stone table, followed by a series of clattering sounds. The thick stench of blood filled the small cave. The skin was shattered into pieces, and the bones rolled and tumbled in the blood, scattered all over the ground.

The woman in the long robe leaned on her wooden cane and stood up: "Before I knew it, you were dead too. Now, besides Terena, the only ones who know about that are me, Vivian, and Nini Annie... One is a yandere stalker, one is a big ice block, and the other is fat and stupid like a pig... Sigh, why is life so hard?"

A sigh, half-serious and half-serious, followed by the tapping of the wooden staff on the ground. The sound gradually faded into the distance, yet with each strike, a flower would bloom out of thin air, its fragrance filling the air. It blossomed amidst the pool of blood, dispelling the previously overwhelming stench of blood...

P.S.: Please vote! I've been updating for the past few days, but the number of recommended votes has remained between 200 and 250... Could you guys cast about 50 more votes to reach 300?

Next, let's talk about the setting of this book. Since I haven't done much research, and there are so many versions of the Arthurian legend that they don't overlap, it's unrealistic to look at them all completely. So, theoretically, the setting regarding the historical background is primarily based on the Court of Avalon, secondarily referencing The Death of King Arthur and the Old Sword in Blue Silver. As for others, I simply didn't have the capacity… So, if you have any complaints, such as where France came from at that time, or how the Saxons were introduced by the King of the North… well, that's how it's written in the Court of Avalon!

Regarding the Queen's origins and the Round Table as part of her dowry, one issue is that the Round Table was originally a relic of Camelot in The Court of Avalon. Another issue is... in The Death of King Arthur, Guinevere's father was the King of Camelot, but Camelot on the moon is currently occupied by the King of the West... So, the primary consideration is making the plot interesting. As for historical research, I'll occasionally do some when the mood strikes, but it's impossible to be truly rigorous. Because if you're going to be rigorous... even a curry stick on Earth can't unleash a light cannon (shrug).

Chapter 47 The Witch's Plot (Part 1)

The wind and rain outside were no longer as fierce as before; at a glance, they seemed to be stopping, but the sky remained a hazy gray, making it difficult to tell whether it was day or night. Inside the cave, a campfire burned, and the three men sat around it. The middle-aged man had removed his tattered armor, revealing his bare torso. He had made some simple bandages and was gnawing on some tough jerky while observing the two young men sitting opposite him, pondering their relationship.

"……That's it."

After whispering a brief explanation of her conversation with the gaunt witch, Guinevere swayed and sat back down, still clinging tightly to Artoria. For a man and a woman, this contact felt somewhat ambiguous, but Artoria was used to it—she had always been disguised as a man, or rather, because of her years of masquerading as one, she had never been very good at maintaining a proper distance from others. Knowing their true identities, they knew Hector was a typical reclusive and proud old knight, exceptionally skilled in combat, but not particularly adept at other areas.

As for Merlin… given that female magician's penchant for doing anything for fun, trusting her would basically be digging a hole for herself and then adding more dirt to it. Her usual role models are either honest, unassuming townspeople or the knightly scions led by Kai, but mostly the latter.

While those knights' sons certainly wouldn't engage in any dissolute or tyrannical behavior, they inevitably had affairs with respectable women and wives in their daily lives. It's worth explaining that in this era, as long as the relationship between men and women didn't involve lust but was purely spiritual love and attachment, it was considered a truly refined affair, and even if the husband knew, he had no right to stop it.

In one version of the Arthurian legend from Guinevere's past life, Arthur knew from the beginning that his queen and Lancelot had feelings that went beyond friendship. However, their dates were always just for chatting, from poetry and songs to philosophy of life, and they would do nothing all night. Therefore, he had no reason to punish them. It wasn't until the very end, when Ardyn caught them kissing and holding hands, that King Arthur finally had a chance to make a move... Thinking about it, it wasn't easy at all.

It was precisely because she lacked a suitable role model and hadn't learned anything from Hector and Merlin—one mostly didn't know, and the other mostly deliberately didn't teach—that Artoria was clueless and knew little in this regard. Initially, she felt that such intimacy between the two of them seemed inappropriate, and tried to say a few words, only to be swayed by Guinevere's various dubious reasons: "Even if there's a problem, it's the woman who suffers, and I don't mind at all, so why are you worried?"

This seems to be the case.

And to be honest, it's not annoying when a cute girl comes up to you and shows obvious closeness and affection. Although Artoria was a little worried that her disguise might be exposed, after spending so much time together, the other person didn't seem to have any doubts at all and was wholeheartedly treating her as a man. Since that was the case, there was nothing to worry about.

The two leaned against each other, the middle-aged man they had rescued sitting opposite them, his other hand occasionally reaching out to pat Nemia's head. Artoria had initially thought only Fina couldn't see the little girl for some reason, but now she realized even the middle-aged man couldn't see Nemia. This deepened Artoria's suspicions. Fortunately, Nemia was very well-behaved, seemingly uninterested in anyone except Artoria. Her earlier urge to drink blood had subsided, and she lay beside Artoria like a kitten, occasionally peeking over for a pat, happily squinting her eyes before lying back down.