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

Sure enough.

Guinevere thought to herself, glancing at Artoria, who didn't seem surprised either, only frowning with a displeased expression. Come to think of it, it's ancient England, yet here comes the quintessentially Japanese term "Kagemusha"—truly befitting the moon? She was slowly starting to get used to these various "imported" terms.

“During your training, according to the plan, these stand-ins will operate throughout the island in the name of King Arthur—this name Arthur is said to have been left by Uther more than a decade ago, since the name Artoria is, in a sense, not quite suitable for public display—partly to attract the attention of the King and others, and partly to incite rebellion. Once everything is ready, you will raise an army as King Arthur to attack Vortigern.” He spoke bluntly. After a moment, Artoria shook her head: “If we do that, they will…”

“Many people will die.” Hector finished her sentence for her: “So do you have a better way? If so, tell me now, and if it works, I will change the whole plan immediately.”

"This……"

Artoria looked troubled and remained silent.

"If not—this is the only option at the moment."

The old knight looked at her, and after a long while, her brows still furrowed. She slowly nodded, "I understand. Let's do it this way..." Her tone was slightly downcast. Guinevere, listening to their conversation, felt a mix of emotions she didn't quite understand. She subconsciously felt that Hector's words had been a bit too harsh and wanted to interject, but what could she say? Hesitating for a moment, she came to her senses when she heard the sound of a chair being pulled out; Artoria had stood up.

"I'll go help Kai."

"Go."

Hector waved, and the girl walked out. Guinevere remained, glancing at the old knight, then at the retreating figure outside the door, and suddenly stood up as well: "I'll go help too!"

"Please wait a moment."

But the other person called out to him. Turning around with a hint of doubt, he saw Hector's gaze fall on the sword at his waist: "You said you've learned a little bit of swordsmanship, but you've carried such a fine sword all the way from Scotland without getting hurt. Besides being exceptionally skilled, you must also be quite used to this kind of travel."

After a few more compliments, Guinevere smiled and offered a few modest words, inwardly feeling uneasy, unsure of what the other person really wanted to say. Hector paused: "Although I said I'd have Artoria escort you, to be honest, she grew up here and for over a decade, she hasn't been anywhere outside of this town. She's had very little exposure and a very narrow perspective. Plus, given Artoria's personality, she's bound to cause trouble on the road… I see you care quite a bit about her, so if anything happens, I'll need your help."

That's a polite way of putting it. Given the old knight's aloof personality, and the fact that he was addressing a girl who was about the same age as his adopted son, it was already quite a friendly attitude. Guinevere nodded in agreement: "Of course."

She knew in her heart that from the moment she saw the sword in the stone break, she had been drawn into this trouble and could not easily extricate herself. Afterwards, she took the initiative to ask someone to help repair the sword. One reason was to gain favor, and the other was to clear herself of suspicion as soon as possible.

Moreover, since the other party was King Arthur, defeating Vortigern and unifying Britain was practically a sure thing, a win-win situation. She remembered that her brother and several vassals had been trying to persuade their father to ally with Vortigern for years. In Guinevere's eyes, this was almost comparable to the invasion of Britain in 1949, so she had always been firmly opposed to it. However, she didn't have many supporters. Although Guinevere herself didn't have this intention, in the eyes of others, this princess was destined to marry sooner or later, and her voice was naturally less powerful than that of Prince Pat, who would inherit the throne in the future.

Guinevere had been silently worried about this matter all along, but if she had openly supported Artoria from the very beginning of her career, she would have become a true elder statesman after defeating the King of Britain and unifying the country. Her father and brother would also have been able to secure good positions as a result, a happy ending for everyone. How wonderful that would have been!

Whether for personal or professional reasons, helping Artoria would only bring benefits. Guinevere made up her mind and for a moment felt that she was incredibly clever and resourceful, almost like Zhuge Liang... except for that feather fan.

Suddenly, there was another sound of a chair being pulled out. Hector stood up. His hair was white, and his beard and eyebrows were the color of snow. He was nearly sixty years old this year. At this time, the average lifespan was not long. Being over fifty was considered old age. But the old man was still in good health. Standing there, he was like an iron tower. His eyes were like swords as he looked over.

"Thank you. Well, there's still some time before Kai and the others finish dinner. Since we're just killing time, how about we stretch our muscles and have a friendly spar?"

"This one……"

With just a moment's hesitation, the old knight's gaze sharpened. Without a word, an aura as imposing as a mountain gathered and pressed down, causing cold sweat to bead on Guinevere's forehead.

Only then did she realize.

The old man was now considering whether he was truly worthy of the agreement he had just made.

P.S.: I wasn't feeling well today, and it took me almost five hours to finish this chapter. Well, I'll post it anyway, so please bear with it~ As usual, please recommend, vote, and add to your favorites~

Chapter Ten: Before the Departure

"That girl named Fina... have you seen her in town before?"

The oil sizzled in the pan. Watching the potato pancakes gradually turn golden brown, the young man stirred them a few more times with a wooden spoon, then asked casually.

Artoria, who was cutting meat with her head down, was taken aback by what she heard: "What?"

"The way she looked at you was a little strange. It wasn't like she was looking at a stranger, but more like..." Kai hesitated for a moment, "...the feeling of suddenly meeting an old friend you haven't seen for many years?"

"is it?"

Artoria tilted her head, trying to recall the way Fina had looked at her along the way. After a long while, she said, "I don't think so..."

"So you still don't believe me? Look at that tuft of hair on your head, hasn't it gotten longer lately?"

"Hmm... I get angry when people keep joking about this!"

"Okay, keep it up and make sure you're full, it'll save us a meal."

"...Then I'll get angry after I've finished eating."

"Ah."

While bickering, they scooped up the steaming hot potato pancakes, fried them on a sieve, and placed them on the nearby table. Kai then took over Artoria's work. Although their family lived outside the town, far from the people's lives, all three of them possessed extraordinary strength. When a few wild wolves or a magical boar came by, a crisis that could kill an ordinary person, Artoria could easily handle alone. She would butcher the prey, take the skin and bones to town to trade, keep some meat for herself, and sell the rest—considering the appetite of a certain Knight King, the second option was practically nonexistent—plus, they also cultivated a few fields, growing vegetables and potatoes, making them self-sufficient. In terms of food alone, they were even more abundant than the ordinary residents of the town.

"I'm not entirely sure either, but anyway... if you haven't seen her before, you'd better be careful. That sword... she's no ordinary noble lady."

"understood."

He could tell the answer was clearly a perfunctory response, so Kai glanced at her but didn't continue. The two busied themselves for a while longer, when suddenly they heard a "bang" outside the door. A few seconds later, another similar, rather muffled clanging sound followed. Artoria's hand, holding the knife, froze in mid-air: "That sound..."

"Dad, who are you fighting with...that woman?"

The two spoke and exchanged a glance. Kai waved his hand: "That sound is from the wooden sword he usually practices with. It's probably just Dad getting into the mood for a spar. But if you're bothered by it, Al, go out and take a look. The cakes are ready too, take two out for them."

Artoria nodded, reaching for the potato pancakes, but burned her fingers, recoiled, and grabbed two more. Just as she was about to leave, Kai called from behind, "Take one more, yours."

She hurriedly turned around to grab her own piece, which was still steaming hot. Her eyes were fixed on the pancake, as if she wanted to take a bite, but then she felt it was impolite to eat while walking. Hesitantly, she pushed open the kitchen door, and sunlight shone in for a moment. Then the door shook, blocking the young man's body inside.

Artoria passed by the stables and walked towards the backyard. For the past ten years or so, any swordplay had always taken place in the backyard. Sure enough, as she walked, she heard the clanging and banging of wooden swords clashing. The sound gradually became clearer until the backyard came into view, and her steps unconsciously stopped.

"That is--"

So far, the only swordsmen she had truly witnessed and genuinely admired were Hector and Merlin. Kay was more skilled with the spear; one spear and one horse, and twenty or thirty men would be no match for him. However, compared to his spear skills, his swordsmanship was considerably inferior. As for the other knights in the town… let's not even mention them.

Hector wasn't a famous knight. He hadn't achieved any significant feats on the battlefield, and he wasn't the type to be obsessed with fame and fortune, so he wasn't widely known. However, for Artoria, the ideal knight undoubtedly referred to Hector. Although she had retired from the front lines due to her advancing age and now lived a secluded life, the old knight's swordsmanship hadn't declined, and she longed to defeat Hector in a duel.

The other person, Merlin, is a very strange person in every sense of the word. Despite being a great magician, he claims that chanting spells will make him bite his tongue, and therefore he is more obsessed with swordsmanship than magic—a reason that is both laughable and pathetic. But Merlin's swordsmanship is undeniably powerful. Artoria has only seen him in her dreams, and she only learned about magic, swordsmanship, and other related knowledge during the two-plus hours she slept each day. Logically speaking, Hector's teaching time in swordsmanship should have been overwhelmingly longer. However, by the time Artoria realized it, her own swordsmanship had already begun to lean more towards Merlin's style.

There's nothing wrong with that; Hector isn't the type to feel jealous or resentful over such things. But what's unfolding before her now is a swordsmanship completely different from both of theirs.

boom!

She stopped and stood still, just in time to see two figures suddenly approaching each other in the distance. Two wooden swords clashed in the air with a dull thud. Hector, tall and strong, wielded his sword with both hands and delivered a powerful downward slash. The sound of the sword cutting through the air could be heard even from here. She herself would probably have to use all her strength to block the attack. However, the girl only used one hand to raise her sword to block. Her slender body immediately staggered back several steps like a leaf in the wind.

Before she could even steady herself, she slashed out with her left hand, and Hector blocked it with his backhand. But the girl's sword seemed to be blown off course by a non-existent wind, and suddenly and miraculously rose up, dodging the wooden sword Hector was holding in front of her, and slashing at the old man's wrist.

The old man flipped his right wrist, smashing the diagonal slash away with the hilt of his sword. He then sheathed his sword and thrust again. The girl swung her sword to block again. The next moment, as the two swords collided, her body lunged two or three meters in another direction. But before she could retaliate, Hector stepped forward and slashed out with his wooden sword for the third time. She gripped the sword with one hand, parried it, and spun it. With Hector's help, she and the sword spun half a circle in the air before landing lightly.

After a few exchanges, Artoria understood the underlying principle. The girl was actually using a technique of deflecting and parrying, but unlike the broad, sweeping swordplay of ordinary knights, which was simplified several times for battlefield effectiveness, Fina's sword strikes seemed to focus more on subtle variations, making them extremely complex. This…

She frowned, and for a moment, though she couldn't explain why, she felt a strange sense of unease.

It seems... something's missing from Fina's swordsmanship...

*******

"Seventeen..."

As she landed, she whispered a number amidst her rapid breathing. The white-haired old man stepped forward, raising his wooden sword and swinging it down. The same ordinary wooden sword, in his hand, suddenly possessed a heavy, mountain-like oppressive force. She raised her sword to parry, still holding it with one hand, and after a brief resistance, she was thrown into the air again. She changed positions several times in mid-air, then pushed off the wall, using the momentum to leap back to the ground.

"Can we continue?"

The old knight didn't continue his attack, perhaps realizing she was at her limit. He stood still and asked in a deep voice. Guinevere tried to wave her left hand, but her entire left arm was numb; she couldn't feel any tingling, numbness, or pain. If she hadn't looked down, she wouldn't even have known she was still holding the wooden sword. She wavered for a moment between saving face and suffering, and finally gave a bitter smile: "I'm afraid I can't. If I continue, not to mention anything else, this hand will definitely be ruined first."

"Your swordsmanship..." The old man pondered for a moment, as if he had thought of something. After a while, he didn't continue, but changed the subject: "Your sword, it shouldn't have been stained with blood yet, right?"

"Um...actually, I used it to kill a rabbit three days ago..."

"What about people?"

A moment later.

"...No. You can tell?"

“The difference between a veteran and a new recruit is obvious to anyone with eyes.” Hector shook his head, put the wooden sword back on the nearby haystack, then turned to look at his adopted daughter outside the fence: “But for your age, this level is already quite good, almost on par with the current Artoria. No wonder you were able to travel all the way south from Scotland to here… There’s only one thing, this swordsmanship isn’t used like that. Either the person who taught you didn’t teach you well, or you’re not using it correctly.”

The old man paused, raised his head, looked at the setting sun gradually disappearing behind the western mountains, and murmured something.

“It’s getting dark. The news of the missing Sword of the Chosen should have spread throughout the town by now. By tomorrow morning, Vortigern’s men should have started searching the area. To avoid unnecessary trouble, you and Artoria should leave tonight. Kay and I will handle things here.” Seeing Guinevere nod, he added, “I’ll have Kay prepare some rations for your journey. We recently hunted a demon boar; you probably won’t have a chance to get one in the north. You can give it a try. Eat your fill before you set off—why do you look like that?”

"No...nothing."

Guinevere gave a strange smirk.

"Eat your fill before you set off" is a good saying, but why does it sound so awkward?

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Chapter Eleven: The First Step in the Knight King's Conquest Plan

The contest didn't last long. Hector's complexion remained normal, though he appeared somewhat tired due to his age. Guinevere, on the other hand, was panting heavily, almost unable to stand. She put down her wooden sword, but her fingers remained in the sword-wielding position for a long time, unable to move. She thought to herself, "My opponent truly lives up to his reputation as the one who raised King Arthur; such strength is remarkable. Thank goodness he's not an enemy..." Then she remembered that a certain knight king seemed to have been practicing this kind of thing all along, and she couldn't help but feel both surprised and impressed.

The two then noticed Artoria not far away. Hector called her over and casually pointed out a few flaws and weaknesses in Guinevere's swordsmanship. She listened, nodding occasionally, and occasionally chiming in with a comment that brought a smile to the old knight's face. After a while, Hector, perhaps a little tired, took a potato pancake and went inside to rest, asking Artoria to take his guest to wash his hands. The washing area was next to the stables. Guinevere, covered in sweat and without a change of clothes, simply washed her face and rolled up her sleeves to wipe her arms. Turning around, she saw Artoria with her back turned, seemingly averting her gaze, and found it quite amusing.

However, the two had only known each other for a few hours and did not have that so-called telepathic connection or instant affinity. Although Guinevere had the advantage of goodwill from her past life and was eager to get closer to him, she also knew that things would turn out the other way around and that haste makes waste. So she did not take the opportunity to joke around. After washing up, she used the reflection of the water tank to fix her hair, pulled up her cuffs, and put her own sword, which she had taken off and placed beside her for convenience when sparring with Hector with a wooden sword. She had carried it with her all the way and now hung it back on her waist.

"I'm ready."

As she spoke, she walked over, and Artoria turned back to hand her a flatbread. "The meat of the demonic boar is delicious, but it's hard to cook thoroughly. We'll have to wait a while before we can eat it. If you're hungry, take this to tide you over." She nodded, took it, tore off a small piece, and ate it. It was still warm. "It's delicious."

"As long as it suits your taste. Kai is best at making these potato pancakes... I was originally in charge of breakfast, and Kai was in charge of dinner, but then he said it was too awful to eat, so he took over the morning's task too." Seeing Guinevere start eating, Artoria took a bite of her own pancake. She didn't talk while eating, but said half a sentence first, and then said the second half after swallowing what was in her mouth. It was just that she ate so fast that it seemed like there were no pauses in her words.

"Speaking of which..." He hesitated before starting the next topic, "Was what Hector said just now true?"

"Which sentence?"

"The line about the absence of demonic pigs in the north."

Guinevere tilted her head. She had just torn off a small piece of biscuit and was about to put it in her mouth when she stopped. "Monster boars... I've never seen one myself. I heard that more than ten years ago, many monster boars and wyverns lived in the great forests north of the sea. They would often come out to attack villages and towns, causing many casualties every year. Later... the current King of Scotland, with the help of King Uther and other lords, drove the Picts into the great forest, and after that, no one has seen these monsters. They were probably wiped out by the Picts, right?"

Speaking somewhat uncertainly, Artoria simply nodded and replied, "I see." After a moment, she asked, "Then are the people of Scotland no longer threatened by magical beasts?"

"Yes, there are some. Wolves, sea monsters, giants—they're rare, but occasionally strange things suddenly appear, kill some people, and then the King of Scotland sends men. About two or three years ago, a village called Fendel was attacked by a strange monster. It's said that the monster had two heads, one like a rooster and the other like a horse, and its body was like a bull with two pairs of wings. It flew in the sky and breathed fire from its two heads… In the end, it was Balin—the King of Scotland's most trusted knight—who fought the monster for three days and three nights. The aftershocks of the battle even caused seven castles along the way to collapse. Finally, they managed to cut off its two heads. After that, the nobles who lost their homes even temporarily stayed in the King of Scotland's castle."

“It sounds like an earth-shattering battle.” Artoria’s tone held a hint of longing, as if she were imagining the fierce battle between man and monster, but then she sighed, “So Scotland isn’t as peaceful as I thought.”

“Where is true peace?” Guinevere’s words were muffled as she still had a potato pancake in her mouth. “Even without monsters, everyone is worried that the King might attack at any moment. And even without the King, there will be other ambitious men. And look further afield, across this sea, France, the Roman Empire, and even further afield, other forces that keep such a powerful empire busy… Peace can only be called peace if there are no enemies, no threats. This kind of peace… will never exist. It’s just a matter of dealing with whatever comes our way.”

“Hector said so too.” Artoria sighed, her voice like a lament: “But if that’s the case, what are we, the people who long for peace, supposed to do?”

“Who knows?” Guinevere looked at the remaining half of the potato pancake in her hand and held it up. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be standing here eating this pancake.”

"Makes sense."

Artoria smiled upon hearing this, and in the short time it took to say those few words, her hands were completely empty, not even a crumb remained. Guinevere thought for a moment, then handed over her half-eaten biscuit, "If you don't mind, you can eat these too."

The other party was stunned.

"I have a small appetite, and although this tastes good, it's too oily. Eating too much will make me feel hot and bothered, and they don't sell herbal tea here..."

"Feeling hot... herbal tea?"

“It’s a word from my hometown, don’t mind it.” Guinevere smiled. “How about it, can you do me a favor? Otherwise, if your brother sees that I left some food uneaten, he might think I’m disrespecting him… Don’t worry, there’s no saliva on it, so there’s really no way to remove the fingerprints.”

"Then I'm not welcome..."

Artoria took it, glanced up at her again, and then took a bite. Guinevere nodded with a smile: "Mmm, you're welcome... My favorability score increased by one. It seems that feeding me works..." The last part of her sentence was spoken very softly, more like she was talking to herself, but Artoria's ears twitched and she still heard it clearly, which made her a little strange.

What does "favorability rating" mean?

And feeding them... I'm not a horse!

P.S.: Please recommend, favorite, and vote with monthly tickets!

Chapter Twelve: The Beginning of the Journey... It Doesn't Seem to Be Going Too Smoothly

As dusk fell, the two stood by the stables, one eating a biscuit and the other watching her eat, occasionally exchanging a few casual words. Most of the time, Guinevere described the customs and culture of Scotland as an ordinary traveler. It is worth mentioning that, whether it was because they hadn't had time to invent it yet, or because of the difference in timelines, at least in the little princess's understanding, the famous haggis did not seem to exist in Scotland at present. Occasionally, she almost blurted out her father's name and broke out in a cold sweat.

Occasionally, he would pose a question to elicit a few words from Artoria about her situation. However, for the past ten years or so, the latter's activities had been limited to this home and town, a simple routine, with the exception of the dreams Merlin appeared in. Even though she had a broad knowledge base thanks to the teachings of the old knight and the female magician, it was still somewhat narrow compared to someone who had lived two lifetimes in total.

"To broaden one's horizons, travel is the best way. Read ten thousand books and travel ten thousand miles... But right now, with war and man-made disasters, things are in complete chaos. Without some skills to protect yourself, going out is just giving money away. If you're unlucky, you might even lose your life... If you encounter vicious bandits on the road, someone as weak as me will depend entirely on you for my life and fortune."

Artoria glanced at the gleaming golden sword at her waist: "Your sword certainly attracts thieves easily."

“Oh, you mean this? It’s actually copper-plated iron, and the gem is plastic. It’s worthless.” Guinevere casually slapped the hilt of her sword.

"Really?"

“That’s what I always say when I encounter robbers. But nine out of ten don’t believe me, and the remaining one keeps asking me what plastic is.” Guinevere shrugged. Just then, she heard someone call “Al” from not far away. She turned around and saw a young man named Kay peeking out from under her, waving in their direction.

"The wild boar meat is ready. Madam, come here—Al, don't move! Let us finish eating first, otherwise everyone will go hungry tonight!"

He pointed at Artoria and shouted, but she bent down to pick up a stone from the ground, pretending to throw it, before quickly pulling back. Artoria took the stone and tossed it casually, but Guinevere stretched out her right hand, and her index finger caught the stone perfectly. It spun around a few times like a top and landed steadily on her fingertip.

"How about it?"

Then, raising her chin, she asked with a hint of smugness. But before Artoria could answer, a breeze blew by, and with a soft thud, a pebble fell to the ground. She blinked; "Well, not so good."

The wind made the golden hair tied in a bun sway back and forth. When the gaze shifted again, the girl dressed as a man smiled faintly and said, "Very impressive."