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

"Right, right. Let me tell you, this is nothing. Hundreds of years ago, there was a guy in Ireland named Cú Chulainn who mastered an apple-throwing and catching technique. He could throw and catch nine apples at the same time and only keep one in his hand at most. That's what you call amazing..."

As dusk settled and a thin mist hung in the air, two figures walked along the increasingly chilly hill, their voices carried on the wind...

*******

The moon was high in the sky, and the aroma of food filled the room, but a gust of cold wind gradually dissipated the rising heat. The meat in the pot was gone, leaving only a little broth. Kai was dipping potato pancakes in it, while the old knight watched the two preparing for their departure, a hint of reluctance in his eyes. But this reluctance was hidden deep within his eyes, almost imperceptible unless one looked closely; his face remained as serious as ever.

Having grabbed a few changes of clothes and some dried meat, Artoria looked at the bundle of swords wrapped in cloth, somewhat troubled: "Carrying this like this seems too conspicuous..."

"Don't worry."

Guinevere ran her fingertips across the back of her left hand, and green leaves appeared, causing a sudden breeze to stir in the room. She stepped forward, placed her hand on the blue cloth, and chanted a few incantations. The next moment, the originally bulging and bulky cloth bag grew smaller and smaller until it became a small pouch, almost identical to the several small cloth bags hanging from Guinevere's waist.

"Look, how come..." She was about to show off when she looked up and met Artoria's complicated gaze. The words she was about to say caught in her throat: "W-what's wrong?"

"On the way back."

Guinevere understood the meaning behind this simple sentence: If you have such a skill, why didn't you use it earlier and made me carry that big bag all the way back!

She scratched her cheek.

Yeah, why didn't I use it just now?

Fortunately, Artoria didn't dwell on this issue for too long, and immediately thought of other things: "Are all your other things also shrunk down and stored away like this?"

“Yes, they’re all here.” She patted the small cloth bags on her waist.

"No wonder I didn't see your luggage." Artoria then looked enlightened. Guinevere then asked if she wanted to do the same to Guinevere's luggage, but was refused.

"If two people are carrying nothing, they don't seem like travelers. They might be mistaken for thieves or enemy scouts who live nearby and are here to gather information... which could lead to unnecessary trouble."

That made sense, so the two discussed it with Hector again and decided to take a horse with them. It wasn't so much for riding, but more for carrying supplies. They put Artoria's luggage on the horse's back, making them look like traveling travelers and merchants. As for Guinevere's belongings, she carried them herself. After checking everything again and finding nothing missing, Artoria pushed open the door and went to the stables. Guinevere and the old knight and his son followed her out and stood in the courtyard.

The moonlight was clear tonight, so bright that one could see the path without a torch. Amidst the twinkling starlight, a sense of solitude pervaded the air. After a moment, the girl dressed as a man led the horse over. The old knight looked at the horse: "Ete... isn't it a bit too old?"

“Compared to the other horses, I think Ete probably wants to have a good run.” After saying this, Hector nodded in agreement. Artoria turned around and introduced it to Guinevere: “Its name is Ete, and it’s the oldest horse here. Don’t let its fierce appearance fool you; it has a very good temperament… Ete, let go, and don’t bite anyone’s hair!”

After finally getting the horse to open its mouth, Guinevere immediately covered her now-wet hair and darted several meters away like a rabbit. Kai laughed heartily, clutching his stomach, Hector looked helpless, and Artoria was puzzled: "Aite probably just wanted to play a joke on you, don't do it again next time—" She patted the neck of the horse named Aite and gave it a few words of advice. Guinevere cautiously approached, but before she could get close, a neighing sound rang out, and Aite suddenly kicked out, missing its target but leaving her with a mouthful of dust.

"Looks like this guy doesn't really like me..."

"...It seems like that."

"Hahaha, that's hilarious!"

"Kay."

"What? Dad, you look like you're about to burst out laughing. Stop pretending to be serious... Ouch! The knight hit someone! Someone come and judge! The knight hit a child!"

After another round of commotion, things gradually quieted down. Artoria hugged the old knight and her sworn brother one by one, their eyes meeting, wanting to say something, but ultimately remaining silent. Guinevere stood to the side, five or six meters away from the horse, watching the three of them, and suddenly, she thought of her own family. But even she herself wasn't sure whether what surfaced in her mind at this moment was her father, her brother, and her mother who had died before she had ever met, or the little girl she had met in the orphanage in her previous life whom she had ultimately failed to save.

She looked up.

There are stars twinkling overhead.

A moment later, footsteps approached. She looked away and saw the young girl leading the horse closer, while the old knight and his companion had already turned and gone into the house. She asked, "Aren't you going to say a few more words?"

The other person smiled and said, "That's enough."

“That’s true, it’s not like I’ll be gone for long. If all goes well, I should be back in half a month.” Guinevere nodded, then realized that the “enough” probably didn’t mean what she thought it meant. There seemed to be some kind of determination in it, but Artoria spoke so casually that she missed the chance to correct her earlier statement.

She couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, but this subtle feeling only lasted for a moment. As Aite tried to bite her hair again, she hurriedly dodged, and it all vanished.

"Let's go."

"Ah."

They exchanged a glance and nodded. If this were a game—Guinevere thought frivolously—there would probably be dedicated background music and cutscenes. But right now, there was no music to speak of, and from a first-person perspective, all they saw was a girl who vaguely resembled someone from their memories. But that was fine.

Under a sky full of stars, two people and a horse slowly walked down the hillside.

*******

squeak-

The door, which had already been closed, was pushed open again.

The young man stepped over the threshold, then took a few more steps forward, until he reached his father's side. Together, they gazed at the receding figure on the grassland: "Dad."

"Get up early tomorrow and go to town to make preparations. If you can 'keep' Futigeng's people there, that would be best. If not, delaying them for even a moment is good."

"it is good."

"If we encounter a difficult opponent..."

"Dad! Can't you trust your son a little more? Forget those lowly soldiers, even if Vortigern himself came charging at us, I'd still shoot him—"

"Ok?"

"—One shot probably won't kill him. Hehe..."

"It's good to know."

“But Al really did leave just like that. It’s really hard to get used to not having anyone by my side all of a sudden… Especially when I think about living with my dad alone from now on, all I feel in my heart is sadness—” Kai sighed dramatically, and even used a bard-like singing style at the end.

“You’ll get used to it,” Hector said simply.

"Yes, you have to get used to it."

The young man's tone calmed down. "You have to get used to it..." he repeated. Then he remained silent, watching the two men leading their horses away with the old knight, a hint of melancholy in his eyes.

But after a while, a hint of doubt crept into his eyes.

"Dad, it seems like they've stopped?"

"..."

"It seems they've separated?"

The two seemed to exchange a few words. Artoria and her horse remained where they were, while the one named Fina turned back. What was going on? She exchanged a glance with Hector, both completely bewildered.

Suddenly, the old knight turned around.

"Dad?"

"Come inside!"

A beat too slow, Kai suddenly realized what was happening and quickly followed Hector into the cabin. A moment later, the girl came up the hill, knocked on the door a few times, and the tightly closed wooden door opened in response. The young man stood there sleepily, yawning: "It's you...why are you back again?"

The girl looked inside and saw the old knight lying on the bed, seemingly asleep. She had assumed that, given their personalities, they would most likely be on the hilltop, reluctant to see their adopted daughter (sister) leave, watching them go with heavy hearts. But instead, she was surprised by their magnanimity. Perhaps, in the eyes of knights of this era, mere parting was utterly insignificant…

She had originally intended to discuss this with Artoria properly. Feeling a pang of regret, but remembering the purpose of her deliberate return, the girl didn't dwell too much on the failed attempt. She looked up and asked, "Um... according to the information I have, my friend who can repair broken swords seems to live in Cornwall, which is the country currently ruled by King Marco."

“Cornn...it’s about a five- to seven-day drive southwest from here.” Kay looked at her suspiciously. “You don’t actually know how to get there?”

"No, I know I should head southwest. What I wanted to ask was..."

Guinevere shook her head.

Which direction is southwest?

P.S.: Qingbai used a transformation skill and became the diligent Qingbai!

The diligent Qingbai used the double update skill!

Chapter Thirteen: On the Road

As the sun sets, the afterglow paints most of the sky golden, and the wind rustles through the treetops, creating a sound like waves crashing on the shore.

A campfire was lit in front of the cave, its red flames crackling and shifting in the wind, occasionally sputtering sparks. A large brown horse, its mane and tail jet black, was tethered to a nearby tree, munching on red berries from a basket, crunching and splattering juice. Two figures sat around the fire, roasting jerky and chatting idly: "...If it doesn't rain tomorrow, we should reach Cornwall around noon. I just never imagined this journey would take a full ten days..."

“There was no way around it, there were just too many unexpected things along the way, and for some reason, Aite absolutely refused to let you ride…” The jerky had softened a bit after roasting over the fire for a while, and Artoria handed it to her companion beside her. Guinevere waved her hand: “You eat first… the taste in my mouth hasn’t completely gone away yet.” When she opened her mouth, you could see that her entire little tongue was purple.

"Who told you to run off and steal Aite's food again? I warned you, that fruit is sour and astringent, it's not for human consumption, it's only for feeding horses..."

"I was just a little tempted because this fruit looks like an apple... and you only said that after I took a bite!" she accused righteously.

The defendant looked completely innocent: "I thought doing this would leave a deeper impression on you, so you wouldn't try to steal that fruit again when I'm not around...right?"

"You're actually this kind of Artoria—" Guinevere was stunned for a moment, but recalling how the other party had been "begging for death" a few hours earlier for stealing the fruit, Artoria couldn't help but smile slightly. She tore the jerky in two, ate one piece herself, and kept the other in her hand. A breeze blew by, and a wave of heat hit her face. She moved to the side, getting closer to Guinevere.

Both were dressed as men, but there were still significant differences in the details. Without any deliberate attempt to conceal her gender, the form-fitting clothes, tailored for ease of movement, actually accentuated Guinevere's slender figure even more, and coupled with her golden hair like waves of wheat, it was impossible for anyone to mistake her for a man.

As for Artoria, she had been raised as a boy for over ten years, and her every move exuded a dignified air. While her stature was undeniably petite for a man her age, even raising doubts about whether someone so small could go to war, this contrast between her heroic bearing and petite frame made her extremely popular among the girls and some men in the town. In the early years, it was fine, but as she grew older, and in the eyes of people in this era, fifteen or sixteen was perfectly acceptable for marriage and children, she frequently received confessions of love. After painstakingly rejecting them, she would be teased by her adoptive brother for quite some time afterward, which was truly... unbearable to recall.

It's worth mentioning that about six months ago, a particularly bold and meticulous girl fell in love with her at first sight. After being rejected, she somehow managed to sneak into her bed at night without being discovered by Kai and Hector. A month or two later, she came to her and said she was pregnant but didn't need her to take responsibility. She just wanted her to name the child...

The way that girl was trying to hold back her tears and pretend to be strong was so real that if she didn't actually have that ability, she might have really believed it.

In fact, her sworn brother had already started making wedding arrangements at that time. It wasn't until she reluctantly went over to explain that he was "shocked": "What, Al, you... This is a big deal! Don't worry, your brother won't discriminate against you because of this. No matter how serious the illness, there's always a cure. Leave it to me! I'll find you a secret remedy to cure you properly—"

Kai was unable to get out of bed for three days afterward.

Of course, for the sake of the reputation of this certain Knight King, it must be explained here that even if someone, in a fit of rage, unleashed a full-force punch, he only knocked Kai unconscious for about a day. The next day, Kai woke up refreshed, and before he could even stretch, he turned around and saw Hector entering with a wooden sword… The ups and downs of this certain Knight of the Round Table's life need not be elaborated upon here. It was during their conversation that the setting sun completely disappeared behind the western mountains, and then the entire world became dark, with only a pale gray moonlight shining down on the vast expanse.

The fire was blazing.

"We'll be in Cornwall tomorrow... By the way, Fina, do you know exactly where your friend lives?"

“I see distrust in your eyes! I must clarify this misunderstanding again. I am not directionally challenged. It’s just that occasionally—very occasionally—I am amazed by the vastness of this world, and then feel a little confused about the meaning of my existence and my place in it.”

“I understand.” Artoria nodded. “So, do you know where that friend lives?”

"……do not know."

"I think so too."

"Your tone, which sounds so matter-of-fact, is actually a bit of a blow to me..." The indescribable sour feeling in her mouth finally subsided, and Guinevere reached out and took the remaining half of the jerky. Just as she was about to put it in her mouth, she remembered that the jerky had been held by the other person until now, and for some reason, she suddenly felt a little shy, and the jerky did not reach her mouth for a long time.

"What, aren't you going to eat?"

Seeing her struggling with her own thoughts, Artoria asked. Guinevere hesitated, "I...I don't have much of an appetite, you eat it." She handed it to her, and after the other woman finished it in a few bites, she felt it was a waste. But one can't just vomit up something already eaten, so she could only sigh and suppress her feelings. "But don't worry, with this, as long as she's nearby, I can know her approximate location..." She gestured towards her left hand, and Artoria understood, "You mean that leaf-shaped mark?"

"Hmm. Do you remember the fairy village your father mentioned?"

Nodding, he said, "I've also heard Merlin mention some things about Fairy Land. It's said to be a paradise far removed from the mortal world, inhabited by all sorts of extinct fantasy species, a place filled with birdsong and fragrant flowers, yet inaccessible to humans..."

“The Fairy Land doesn’t have a king or emperor as its highest leader. Instead, it is governed by nine witches, who are also known as the Nine Fairy Queens. The one we’re going to find next is one of the Fairy Queens. As for this mark—” Guinevere raised her left hand, and a green leaf flashed across the back of her hand: “You can simply take it as a symbol of the Nine Witches.”

"So, Fina, you're also one of the Nine Witches?" Artoria's eyes widened in surprise. Guinevere shook her head. "No. At least not yet... Because of the oath, I can only say this much for now. I'll explain to you later if there's a chance."

"it is good."

Having no compelling reason to know, Artoria naturally wouldn't force the other party to break their vow, and readily agreed. She then began to speak of the current state of Cornwall—she had been raised as a queen since childhood. Aside from Hector and Kay, Merlin's daily teachings in her dreams, besides swordsmanship and magic, included analysis and deductions of the current situation in Britain: which kings could be won over in future uprisings, which castles were easily defensible and strategically vital, and which rulers were untrustworthy opportunists requiring vigilance. This was all extremely important intelligence, and Artoria, having learned diligently, spoke eloquently about it:

"The current lord of Cornwall is Marco. He is suspicious by nature, excessively cautious on the one hand, and sometimes acts unexpectedly because he doesn't trust others. But overall, King Marco has been very close to Vortigern in the past few years and is very likely to become our enemy—"

She paused, instinctively using "we," thinking that it might displease Fina. She then glanced at the expressions of those around her. Guinevere remained calm and even added, "Shall we do something?" Her eyes narrowed, revealing a dangerous smile, her small, white canine teeth peeking out.

She used the word "we" more naturally than she used "herself."

Artoria blinked, then suddenly smiled: "That's not necessary. The most important thing now is to fix this sword..."

"It's a lump."

The little princess corrected her with great academic spirit.

"This...this sword..." Artoria readily changed her tune, but her heart was filled with unease. She wondered if Merlin would come to beat her in her dreams that night because of this. She used to dream of Merlin almost every day, but since he drew the sword, for ten consecutive days, not even a glimpse of the female magician's clothes had appeared in her dreams, and therefore she hadn't dreamed of him at all. Each night passed in the blink of an eye, which Artoria found quite unsettling, and she even felt a sense of guilt for wasting her time. But she was helpless; she didn't know where Merlin was, and there was no way to actively seek him out, so she could only wait quietly.

Thinking to himself, he continued, "He also said that it's best to hide until we gather enough forces to fight the King head-on, and not to show ourselves to avoid obstacles from all sides. Besides, King Marco was a famous warrior in his youth, and he has several powerful knights under his command. There are only two of us, so it's best to avoid them if possible and avoid any conflict."

“That’s true.” Guinevere stroked her chin, as if she was thinking about something. After a moment, she suddenly asked, “I feel like this king’s name sounds familiar. Marco, Marco… I feel like I’ve heard it somewhere before… but I can’t remember where I heard it right now.”

"More than a decade ago, he was already a powerful lord who dominated a region. It's not surprising that you've heard of him, Fenna..."

Upon hearing Artoria's words, Guinevere waved her hand. She had a certain impression of the name, but it wasn't something she'd heard from her father, brother, or the knights in the castle. It was from a past life… a story related to the Knights of the Round Table, a certain person, a certain Knight of the Round Table connected to this Marco, but who exactly was it…? For a long while, the name was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't say it. She pinched her chin, suddenly remembering something completely unrelated.

"Just to be on the safe side, let me ask first. That king probably never was a pirate, never ate any strange fruits, and wouldn't have turned into a phoenix, right?"

"...Pirates, Devil Fruits, Phoenix?"

Seeing Artoria's "What the hell are you talking about?" expression, Guinevere crossed her arms, nodded, and breathed a sigh of relief.

It seems there are no Devil Fruits in this world.

Great.

P.S.: As usual, please recommend, vote, and add to your favorites!

Chapter Fourteen: The Mist of Cornwall (Part 1)

Late at night.

Without a clock, the exact time was unknown, but it could be roughly estimated to be around three or four in the morning. The moonlight was cold and clear, like a thin layer of frost on the ground. Until just now, there had been rustling sounds in the forest, probably from wolves or some other wild animals, but they had all fallen silent by now. Only the occasional rustling of the wind made the surrounding silence all the more palpable.