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

Chapter Seven: An Unexpected Meeting with the Parents

They walked and talked, and it was nearly two hours later when the three returned to the house on the hill. Although the makeshift group had acquired horses after Kai joined them, it seemed unfair to divide the three of them by just one horse. If all three rode together, it would be too crowded, and besides… that would be blatant horse abuse, which the future knight king, obsessed with horses, would certainly not agree to. On the other hand, having two ride while one walked back would leave a lingering resentment among them. After much deliberation, they finally decided to follow Guinevere's suggestion: the three of them would take turns leading the horse and walk back, ensuring that no one was at a disadvantage.

perfect.

The only slight drawback was that... Guinevere's legs were already sore and numb from standing, and after walking this far, she was almost unable to stand. However, concerned about her first impression, she pretended to be strong and didn't show it at all. Even though her legs felt like they were filled with lead and she was having a hard time walking, she remained calm and continued to talk and laugh as usual. To be honest, even she couldn't help but admire herself a little... Anyway, after climbing the small hill, before even entering the house, she saw a burly old man with white hair in the open space in front of the door.

This must be Arthur's adoptive father, Kai's biological father, the old knight Hector. Guinevere thought to herself, over the years she had tried hard to recall the details of the Round Table legend, copying down everything she remembered and locking it in her magically reinforced treasure chest in simplified Chinese characters, so even if others found it, they probably wouldn't know what she had written. Sure enough, when Artoria saw the old man, she visibly relaxed and was about to go forward when a gust of wind swept by. It was Kai loosening the reins—it was his turn to lead the horse for the last stretch—and striding quickly over, shouting, "Dad, let me tell you something really funny!"

Something really funny… Guinevere’s lips twitched involuntarily.

Artoria retracted her foot, which she had just taken. Seeing that the poor horse seemed frightened by Kai's hasty actions, she glared at her sworn brother's back with a hint of reproach, then patted the horse's neck. Guinevere stood several meters away from the horse, watching with interest as the old man gently comforted the frightened creature. The next moment, the old man asked, "What is it?" His voice was deep and slightly hoarse, perhaps due to a cold, but his enunciation was clear and forceful, carrying an air of authority that commanded respect.

This imposing presence seemed to have no effect on his own son. Kay laughed and said, "Didn't Merlin leave a sword in town? Didn't many self-important fellows come to try and draw it? Let me tell you, our Al pulled that sword out in one go—"

The old man narrowed his eyes, a hint of doubt flashing in his gaze. He knew perfectly well what his son was thinking. Kai had always disapproved of Artoria following the path envisioned by Uther and Merlin. While he wouldn't directly obstruct her, he usually spoke of it with a sarcastic and displeased expression. Why was he so happy now that the sword was drawn, as if it were a festival?

He wasn't at all surprised that his "adopted son" could pull the sword from the stone. If he didn't want Artoria to pull the sword, why would Merlin have bothered to choose such a remote, godforsaken town for the ceremony?

"Dad, you're probably wondering why I'm so happy, right? Of course I'm happy! Because Al not only drew his sword, but also gave it to—"

"Cough cough cough..."

Before he could finish speaking, a cough came from behind him. Turning around, he saw a distressed Artoria and the strange woman who called herself Fina. It seemed that the one who had interrupted him with the cough was the latter. But after glancing at Artoria, Kai understood why she had coughed.

At this moment, Hector asked, "What happened to Artoria's sword?"

He always called them by that name when there were only three of them, but now that the words were out, he realized there was a fourth person present besides the two children. He glanced at the person but didn't seem to care much. As for Artoria herself, seeing that her efforts to change her name, even at the cost of biting her tongue, had completely vanished, she felt even more sorrowful.

But when Kai spoke again, his tone was much more serious: "Things are a bit complicated. It's easier for you to understand if you see it for yourself, Dad... In short, the reason I'm happy isn't because of Al, but because that annoying female magician is in big, big—trouble this time." Even in the last sentence, there was still a hint of schadenfreude in his voice.

Hector's thick white eyebrows twitched as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he just shook his head and turned to walk into the house: "Then let's go inside."

Kai was about to follow her inside when he was pushed back out, nearly bumping into Artoria. The old woman's voice came from behind the half-open door: "Go pour the guest a glass of water and prepare some food. Don't you know basic manners at your age?"

"Yes Yes Yes."

After exchanging a glance with the two women, the young man spread his hands and shrugged: "Madam, what would you like to eat?"

“Anything is fine with me, I’m not picky about food,” Guinevere smiled.

"clear."

He casually waved his left hand twice, stopping it in front of his chest, and gave a very exaggerated bow. For a knight, this gesture was extremely impolite, but the young man did it naturally, so it didn't seem disrespectful. He then turned around and headed towards the small kitchen hut. After taking a few steps, he turned back and called out, "Al—"

"Ok?"

"If Dad gets angry later, remember to run for your life before you get beaten up. I can't save you."

"……OK."

It was unclear whether this was a joke or a serious reminder. Artoria's expression changed several times before she finally nodded with a bitter look on her face, while Guinevere felt a little uneasy.

That old knight sounds like he has quite a fiery temper.

You'd better keep an eye out for which window is the best place to climb out and escape.

With a mixture of genuine and feigned trepidation, the two followed Hector into the main room. After a while, the sounds of their conversations, the rustling of fabric being lifted, and the occasional clinking of metal rose and fell, then subsided. Finally, the old man's voice, though he tried to remain calm, trembled as he asked:

"According to you, this package... is... the Sword of Kings?"

*******

The door creaked open, letting in the setting sun. From the side of the young man carrying four cups, a small patch of sky could be seen, dyed red by the sunset, with clouds drifting by. The pleasant aroma of medicinal herbs filled the small room.

He looked around and first noticed the several large, light blue cloths spread out on the table, with fragments of sword hilts, guards, and blades piled up like a small mountain. His heart tightened suddenly. Then he noticed that his father, Al, and the female guest were all sitting peacefully at the table, with no signs of a fight nearby, and their expressions weren't tense. He breathed a sigh of relief, and his body, which had been quietly moving towards the door, slipped right in. He placed the cups in front of each of the three, took one for himself, leaned against the wall, and took a sip.

Steam rose from the cup, wisps of smoke curling upwards: "These are herbs gathered from the forest; they're said to have a calming effect. Dad, drink up! If that's not enough, I can get you a few more cups, or even a dozen, dozens of cups—"

"shut up."

"Yes Yes Yes."

Even after being scolded, Kai still smiled and said, "So, judging from your expressions, you must have already told Dad everything, right? So, Sir Hector, who is invincible, do you have any good ideas?"

This time, the old man did not continue to scold his child. He sat in the main seat, looked at the pile of swords—the quantifier was truly something else—and frowned. “I have already heard from Artoria and this guest that the holy sword symbolizing the new King of Britain broke the moment it was drawn…that is indeed a problem.”

“Fortunately, it was just the two of us present at the time,” Guinevere continued. She and Artoria sat opposite each other at the square table, forming a triangle with Hector on either side. Kay leaned against the wall behind Artoria, then nodded, adding, “I can assure you that almost everyone who came for the ceremony today was at the farm at that time. But I'm not so sure about the others who were just watching…”

"This guest..."

"Sir, no need for that, just call me Fina."

Hearing her say that, Hector paused for a moment, then nodded: "Alright. Fenna, your accent is quite different from the ones around here. Could it be... you're from the North?"

north.

At this point in time, when the English mentioned the north of the British Isles, they often thought not of Scotland and the Picts who lived in the northernmost forests, but of the fortified city in the center of the island and the master of that fortress—King Vortigern.

Guinevere understood this as well.

She picked up her teacup, bringing it close to take a sip, but feeling the steam rising towards her face, she pulled it back, blowing on it as she answered, "I can't hide it from you, sir. I am Scottish, and although I am a woman, I have the help of my father… My father is enlightened and has learned a little swordsmanship. Hearing the rumors of the upcoming king-selection ceremony, I thought that heroes and warriors from all over would gather here, and I wanted to take this opportunity to come and see the excitement and broaden my horizons. So I got my father's permission and came alone. I just didn't expect… this excitement is too much to handle."

"I see."

Hector tapped the edge of the table with his finger, making a few soft tapping sounds. "You look quite like an old friend of mine." Seeing Guinevere stiffen, his expression remained serious. "Is he alright?"

"Although I don't know who the old friend the old gentleman was talking about is... As for my father, he has been healthy and has been free of illness in recent years."

"That's good." After saying that, the old man paused for a moment and then said, "You said your name is Fina, so you must be his child." He made this assertion to himself, leaving the three younger people around him either confused or full of surprise, none of them able to respond for a moment. But Hector didn't wait for anyone else to speak: "Alright, let's get back to the main topic. Since the sword is broken, let's think about what to do after it's broken."

Aside from a slight loss of composure at the beginning when the blue cloth was lifted to reveal a large pile of shattered sword fragments, the old man remained calm throughout. Whether this composure was genuine or intentional, it earned Guinevere's secret admiration. Hector first looked to his left: "Artoria, can you find Merlin?"

The latter looked apologetic: "The Magician has always appeared and disappeared suddenly, and I haven't had any way to actively search for her..."

"so."

Hector fell silent. Just as the atmosphere became somewhat heavy, Guinevere's eyes darted around, and at a certain moment, she seemed to have made up her mind. She raised her left hand, and the other three pairs of eyes immediately turned to look at her.

"Well, although I don't know Lord Merlin personally, I do know a few people who might be able to repair this broken holy sword..."

P.S.: Please recommend, vote, and add to your favorites!

This line wasn't in the script for Chapter Eight!

"I know a few people who might be able to repair this broken holy sword..."

Inside the not-so-spacious wooden cabin, the afterglow bathed the floor in golden light. The four people sat or stood, and on the central square table lay a pile of fragments of the Sword in the Stone, almost unrecognizable, reflecting the light streaming in from the window, making them quite conspicuous. Then, Guinevere raised her left hand, speaking hesitantly. But seeing the questioning looks from the other three, she remembered that this wasn't a school, and it seemed... there wasn't a tradition of raising one's hand to speak. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, she thought for a moment, but ultimately didn't lower her hand.

"they?"

Noticing the use of a female pronoun in the sentence, Hector countered with a question—in modern Britain, apart from Ireland whose situation is unclear, the people of Scotland, Wales, and England all speak the same language, differing only in accent and some slang. Even though the vast majority of the words and phrases cannot be directly equated with the modern English Guinevere remembered, because there are occasional similarities, for the time being, one might temporarily consider this language the precursor to modern English, that is, Old English.

Of course, language and writing exist for communication, and she had no intention of tracing their origins. Otherwise, would she really spend decades painstakingly writing a lengthy thesis, hoping that some lucky person 1,500 years later would unearth it, marvel at it, and list her and Wang Mang as actual examples of time travelers? That would be far too unrealistic.

Her tendency to let her mind wander was always a bad habit; if she wasn't careful, she would often drift from the present matter to something completely unrelated, far beyond the horizon. It wasn't until she met the old knight's stern gaze that Guinevere snapped back to reality, hastily replying, "Yes, 'they.' But please forgive me for not revealing the names and origins of those friends here, for we once swore a common oath never to easily disclose each other's information unless we were to die."

“Someone I know said the same thing. Oh, right, that guy used to be the head of the town’s thieves.” A chilling voice interrupted from behind Artoria.

"Kay."

The old man spoke in a deep voice.

"Okay, okay, okay, I'll shut up."

Kai waved his hand dismissively, clearly showing no intention of repenting, and continued drinking his tea against the wall. Meanwhile, Guinevere's lips twitched, her smile stiffening. She knew perfectly well that this explanation was highly suspicious; if she had heard it, she would have kicked them out. Just as she was racking her brains for a way to gain the trust of the people before her, Hector tapped the edge of the table with his knuckles and said leisurely, "Lord Merlin once told a story..."

"Legend has it that somewhere on this island lies a secluded paradise called Avalon, also known as Fairy Land, a place of breathtaking beauty and perpetual spring-like weather. There is no strife there, nor any malice or threat. It is truly a paradise that everyone yearns for. Legend has it that there are nine rulers there, all of them powerful witches, hence they are generally referred to as the Nine Witches or the Nine Fairy Queens... I heard this from Merlin, and I wonder how much of it is true and how much is false. What does Fina think?"

"Sir Hector is indeed worthy of his reputation; his extensive knowledge is truly admirable."

This answer essentially revealed the identities of those "friends." Both Kai and Artoria were momentarily surprised. The latter had only heard Merlin casually mention the Fairy Village, and she hadn't expected to encounter anyone connected to it; her surprise was understandable. As for Kai, the reason for his surprise was slightly more complex—but that's a story for later, and we won't go into it here.

Hector glanced at Guinevere and nodded. "Since there's an oath binding us, I won't press you any further. But since you've brought this up in front of us, you must need some kind of assistance, right?" He then smiled. "There's no need to beat around the bush with an old woman like this, living in seclusion in the wilderness. Just tell me what you need."

“I wouldn’t dare make a request. As I just said, the sword broke partly because of me. In that case, it would be too shameless to ask for compensation from Lady Artoria, who is the victim. But there are a few things I need to clarify first, to avoid any misunderstandings later.” Guinevere sat up straight in her chair, her small hands clenched into fists and placed on her knees, meeting the old knight’s scrutinizing gaze directly: “First, all I can do is ask someone for help; I can’t guarantee that person can truly repair this Sword of the King to its original condition.”

"Of course."

“Furthermore, although those friends have different personalities, they are all very resistant to contact with strangers. It would be extremely difficult to invite them here... no, dozens of times more difficult than climbing to heaven.” She paused for a moment: “So I need to take this... this pile... this heap... this clump of swords and leave here for about five to seven days.”

Is it really necessary to agonize over a single quantifier for so long?

Even though her father had ordered her to remain silent, Guinevere could still read that same message in Kai's eyes. She looked back at him, conveying with her eyes, "Of course it's necessary!" She wasn't sure if the young man understood. But Guinevere immediately grew bored, looked away, and continued, "However, I also know that if word gets out that the Sword of the Chosen King has been broken, it will undoubtedly be a huge blow to those who are still resisting the Lowly King. What's worse, if I were to take the sword and inform Vortigern, the three of you, and even the residents of this town, would be in mortal danger... Therefore, I will not ask you—without any reason—to believe someone you've only known for less than half a day."

"Oh?"

Hector raised a brow with his snow-white eyebrows, clasped his hands together, and asked with great interest, "So what do you plan to do?"

With a creak, the chair was pushed back, and the young woman dressed as a servant stood up and bowed: "Britain is currently embroiled in constant warfare, and various places are not peaceful. Bandits and magical beasts frequently appear. Fina has only learned a little bit of swordsmanship, which is fine under normal circumstances, but this mission carries great responsibility, and she dares not fail. Therefore, she has taken the liberty of asking Sir Hector's son to serve as her escort along the way. As for the payment, it can be made upon our return. Is that alright?"

Since they were concerned about her leaving alone with the sword, it was necessary to arrange for someone to monitor her. Of the three present, Hector was old, and although his skills were not much diminished, his energy was not what it used to be. A long journey would inevitably lead to mistakes. Choosing Kai over Artoria from among the two younger men was also a precaution, to prevent the real "Red Dragon" from being put in danger. This choice was not difficult to make; Guinevere believed that with the wisdom of an old knight, she would immediately see the pros and cons.

Sure enough, under her gaze, Hector nodded: "A very reasonable request. As a knight, it is my duty to escort a frail lady to a safe place."

As soon as he said that, Kai gave him a look that seemed to say, "A frail lady who beat seven grown men to a pulp without batting an eye, hahaha, pfft pfft pfft—"

Guinevere gave him a knowing, "You think I won't smash your head in too?" look, and the young man immediately let out a silent whistle and dramatically turned his head away.

Perhaps oblivious to the two's "eye contact," or perhaps noticing but too lazy to pay attention, the old knight continued, "It just so happens that I was already planning this. Artoria, why don't you take this opportunity to go on a long trip with Fina—" Before he could finish speaking, with a bang, Kai, who had just straightened up from the wall to speak, stared in disbelief and smashed his empty cup on the ground.

Hector shifted his gaze, glaring at his son, but his words didn't stop: "Is there anything strange about it? The Magician himself said that if Artoria pulls out the Sword of the Chosen King, she'll need to undergo a period of martial arts training until she can skillfully wield its power. Although it deviates slightly from the original plan, it might just be an opportunity..."

"Wait, Dad, look closely! The sword has turned into this monstrosity!" Kai retorted, pointing at the lump of sword.

“This lady said she has a way to restore the broken sword,” Hector said calmly.

Guinevere muttered quietly, "It's only a possibility..." but no one paid her any attention. Kai waved his hand dismissively: "I mean, the sword's become like this—"

"So what? The Magician said, 'Whoever can draw this sword will be the King of Britain,' but she didn't say what to do if the sword breaks after it's drawn."

"but……"

“Since you didn’t say that—” the old knight said solemnly and righteously, “then do as I say.”

"..."

"This works?" Guinevere muttered under her breath.

Still no one paid attention to her.

Kai took two steps forward, staring at the old knight, who remained seated with his hands folded on the table in front of him, calmly meeting his gaze. Artoria also stood up from her chair, looking left and right, as if she wanted to speak but didn't know how. After a moment, the young man flicked his hand, said nothing, and strode out of the house. Artoria instinctively wanted to chase after him, but as soon as she took a step, her adoptive father stopped her.

"Hecto..."

"Ignore him."

"But……"

"He went to prepare dinner," the old knight said calmly.

"Oh……"

The future Knight King hesitated, then nodded, before sitting back down. Guinevere blinked beside him, this time remaining silent. The old knight looked at the two remaining in the room, his gaze serious: "Although I don't know why the Magician didn't appear, I do know something about her arrangements with Uther… Now it's time to tell you, Artoria. Fenna, you stay too—"

Feeling it wasn't appropriate for Guinevere to stay any longer, she was about to use the excuse of helping Kai cook to leave and avoid suspicion when the old knight called out to her. She was taken aback: "Is it alright?"

"Ah."

But what Hector said next sent chills down Guinevere's spine, and for a moment she felt an urge to run out the door and run away: "When the Magician told me about these things, he instructed me that if I ever met a girl who called herself Fina, I should tell her everything. 'It will definitely be useful—'"

P.S.: I originally thought this part would only be four or five thousand words at most, but when I came to my senses, it had already been three chapters...emmm, but it's almost over. I'll try to start the cultivation (and voyeurism) journey in the next chapter...or the chapter after that~

Also, some of you might have noticed I haven't commented on any book reviews or rants. That's because the new app requires real-name verification for comments, which requires a mainland China phone number to receive a verification code, and I'm in Hong Kong...emmmm, so frustrating. Anyway, please recommend, vote, and give me a tip!

Chapter Nine: The Little Crouching Dragon of Scotland (Mistakenly)

"...Vortigern has been building up his power over the past ten years, and now his influence, both overt and covert, far exceeds what most people can imagine. Not to mention the scattered tribes of England, even Wales and Scotland would have little chance of winning. And then there are the seven kingdoms of the Saxons. Even if the Sword of the Elector is not broken, firstly, Uther has been missing for ten years, and his former followers have long since dispersed to various places. If he were to raise an army in his name, the number of troops he could gather would probably be limited. Secondly, it would be easy for the King's men to infiltrate them, sabotage them secretly, and defeat them one by one."

“In my opinion, the ideal way to defeat Vortigern is to secretly raise an army undetected and gather enough forces to fight them. Therefore, Your Excellency the Magician has devised a plan.” Hector paused here, as if giving the other two time to think. After hearing this, Guinevere glanced at the person opposite her. Artoria, upon hearing this, seemed to have thought of something, and her expression turned serious. She then put aside her surprise at Merlin’s supposed prophecy—that word might not be quite accurate, perhaps he really did divine—and began to ponder what method Hector was about to mention, and how she herself would act in his shoes.

After a moment's thought, an idea suddenly popped into her mind. Her fingers stopped, and the small tuft of hair that had been curled around her fingertips snapped back. At the same time, Artoria opposite her seemed to have an answer as well. Her expression relaxed for a moment, but the next moment, her brows furrowed tightly.

Hector, observing their reactions, remained expressionless and said, “Artoria, you are far from being a match for Vortigern. No matter how many people you command or how strong your power is, it's meaningless if your leader is weak. The Magician originally intended to personally take you and Kai on a journey around for a while, until you can use the Sword of the King, to see Britain for yourself. But she also said—here are her exact words—'If one day, Artoria, you meet a girl who calls herself Fenna, why not try keeping her by your side? That child will open up a completely new destiny for you. As for whether the outcome will be good or bad, it's too boring to talk about it now. Just look forward to it, work hard, and then regret it!'”

He imitated the magician's tone, but his voice was low and flat, almost monotone, which had a unique charm. After he finished speaking, Guinevere couldn't help but twitch her lips: "Expecting to work hard and then regret it... Is that Merlin really that awful?"

Artoria gave a wry smile: "You misunderstand. Merlin's personality can't really be described as wicked."

"Oh?"

"To be precise, her personality was—very bad."

“Alright, my wording was inappropriate. I will correct it in the future,” Guinevere said with a straight face, sounding quite serious. The two exchanged a glance, and then both laughed. Hector didn't interrupt the little joke; perhaps he actually agreed with Artoria's assessment, but was simply too dignified to speak up because of his elder's authority. After waiting for about half a minute, seeing that it was about time, he continued, “And considering that the King will certainly not allow you to grow up unchecked and will definitely use all sorts of methods to hinder you, as well as the various aspects that need to be considered after the formal uprising, Your Excellency the Magician has prepared many substitutes for the King over the past ten years—that is, so-called shadow warriors.”