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

"enemy."

The words, connected end to end, linked the fragmented sentences into a complete paragraph. The headless monster did not answer—its body had also lost the ability to speak. It simply put down the scepter it was holding. The scepter of the sea god lost its support, but did not fall. Instead, it stood firmly beside it.

Then he raised his left hand.

His palms split open, revealing bloody eyes. The illusory sound of waves suddenly rose, and everything inside and outside the cave began to lose its color rapidly. But the person in the deepest part did not lose his ability to move. He separated his hands, and the mist in his palms suddenly dissipated, revealing something that had been covered.

A bead about the size of a fist, with a grayish surface.

"Another world".

"That's all."

As they took turns speaking, the two men raised their left hands in perfect unison and slapped the pattern on their right arms. The seawater beneath their feet suddenly condensed and took shape, transforming into a trident nearly two meters long.

"leave."

"Go back."

The two stepped forward simultaneously, one to the left and one to the right, one above and one below, their tridents thrusting straight at the headless monster ahead. A voice seemed to say "Oh?" in the air—it sounded like a woman in her thirties—but the monster neither dodged nor yielded, simply standing there, letting the trident formed from the water pierce its body, blood splattering everywhere. But its left hand shot out like lightning and pressed down on one of the men's faces.

In the blink of an eye, the headless monster strode forward, while the man whose head was being held down staggered backward, still gripping the trident like his companion, and unconsciously stirring it to widen the wound, causing it to bleed profusely, almost staining the water around their feet crimson. The next moment, the man's body seemed to stiffen.

boom!

With a soft thud, the entire skull exploded!

Red and white liquids and bits of flesh splattered everywhere, turning the cave into a living hell. The headless monster's left hand, however, remained untouched by blood or brain matter, remaining impossibly clean. As its arm drooped down, magic surged, and in just a few breaths, what stood there was no longer a horrifying, lifeless corpse, but a burly man in a long robe with his eyes covered by a white cloth.

However, her left hand remained slender and pale, like the hand of a noblewoman who had been kept in seclusion for years, pampered with various precious items every day. With a shift in her posture, she pressed down with her left hand, and the two tridents instantly transformed back into water, splashing back to the ground.

He then made a grasping motion behind him. The Scepter of the Sea God flew to him, and with perfect ease, he swept it horizontally, striking the man in front of him squarely on the neck. With a crack, the man was sent flying, crashing headfirst into a large rock beside him. It was unclear just how powerful the blow was, but it shattered the massive rock into pieces, sending sand and dust flying and burying the man's flesh and blood within.

"Aren't you going to do it yourself?"

His voice was filled with undisguised contempt: "I know who you are, Merlin's friend. Back then, you were a magician of considerable renown on the British Isles. You were originally serving a king, but at Merlin's request, you abandoned your fame and glory to come here and guard this seal set up by the Fisherman King... for a full thirty years. You are truly an admirable guardian."

"Since you knew that, you still dared to come..."

Even though there was no wind inside the cave, the hood of the person sitting on the large rock suddenly flew back, revealing an old face with white hair and beard.

The gray beads in front of him spun rapidly, the surrounding temperature suddenly dropped, the surrounding rock walls and stalagmites were first covered with a thin layer of white frost, the seawater that reached his ankles then froze, and light snow began to fall from the sky, landing on the figure holding the scepter, but in an instant, it had frozen him into a crystal ice sculpture.

"Ugh."

With a sigh, mist reappeared around the bead, causing it to fall back into the blue-robed man's hand. At the same time, several crisp cracking sounds were heard as the "ice sculpture" shattered, turning into countless ice crystals that fluttered down. The old man in the blue robe watched this scene quietly, his eyes devoid of joy or sorrow. After a few seconds, he raised his hand and put his hood back on.

A shadow fell, obscuring his face.

boom.

After a barely audible thud, the cave fell back into its initial eerie silence. A figure in a blue robe sat on a rock, then swayed violently before finally collapsing to the side, falling off a large rock and shattering the frozen seawater. Blood mingled with the water as it began to flow again.

……

"To dare use such a clumsy spell in front of me is... ridiculously stupid."

The old man, dressed in a blue robe and with white hair and beard, spoke in a mocking tone. His pale left hand held a scepter. He bent down to pick up the gray bead and walked past the headless corpse.

He came to the large rock deep inside, and with a wave of his scepter, he smashed the rock to pieces. When the dust settled, a downward staircase appeared where the rock had been.

"Below lies the sealed beast of the waves, hehehe..."

Amidst a chilling chuckle, the slightly hunched figure gradually disappeared into the depths of the stairs…

……

The swords clashed, separated, and then crashed together again. With a whoosh, Guinevere's body seemed to be lifted into the air by the attack, but she did not fall. Instead, she and her sword hung on the God of War's sword, spinning rapidly several times, causing the other's body to tilt and involuntarily take a step to the side.

Nuada took a step, and the two figures suddenly separated. The girl thrust out her sword, its cold light flashing and its blade trembling, as if a hidden current was gathering power. The God of War blocked with his sword, and amidst the crisp and melodious sound of metal clashing, Guinevere's figure suddenly moved backward. Her second sword, from below, was like a silver ribbon, clashing with Nuada's longsword once more. The blade grazed the surface of the sword, and countless sparks flew out!

Both sword strikes ended in failure, but the girl's expression remained unchanged. As she moved forward and backward, beads of sweat flew into the air with her hair, glittering in the sunlight. She gripped her sword with both hands and slashed downward with lightning speed.

Like the tides, like whirlpools, each sword strike was heavier and more profound than the last. The sword strike Guinevere swung at this moment was remarkably similar to Nuada's earlier sword strike, about 60-70% identical.

The God of War raised his sword to parry again, and the two swords clashed. They were briefly locked in a stalemate in the air when Nuada's heavy fist came crashing down. She responded with an equally fierce elbow strike. The force of the impact caused her to spin and move away. She swept out with her leg, but it was blocked. Her sword flashed in and out like a dazzling white light, piercing through the tight defense and striking the God of War in the chest!

Fearing that the robe might have something special about it, she chose to attack only the exposed areas, where there was no clothing to cover them. However, she finally seized the opportunity and thrust her sword into Nuada's chest. Before she could even feel joy, she was met with an incredibly hard sensation, as if she had struck not flesh and blood, but a piece of steel. Her wrist, which was holding the sword, went numb, and then there was a "clang" sound, like the sharp sound of metal clashing.

The blade bent and then straightened, and the small figure retreated, creating distance once again. Nuada did not pursue, but simply lowered her sword, calmly waiting for the next battle to begin, just as before.

Guinevere's expression turned somewhat pale.

Even if the attack lands, it won't harm the opponent—this alone is enough to instill utter despair. If it were merely a difference in skill, effort could somewhat reduce or even overcome it. But if this is fundamentally a battle that cannot be won…

No, this is by no means a dead end.

Even if it's a dead end, she would never fall here—she suddenly shook her head vigorously, as if trying to cast aside the wavering in her heart. What else, what other way out of this predicament hadn't she thought of? What else could she utilize, yet hadn't she noticed yet…

……

Suddenly, it seemed as if a bolt of lightning had flashed through my mind. In that instant, the light seemed to illuminate some memory buried deep within—mystery.

Mystery is rendered ineffective before a stronger mystery.

Even though more than a decade of life had made most of the people and things from her past life blurry, after learning that Artoria existed in this world, Guinevere tried her best to remember the settings and plot of the game she had played, out of caution that she might need them at some point.

And now, this sentence suddenly came to mind.

This also gave her a sudden realization. As the king of the Danu gods, the silver-armed Nuada undoubtedly possessed a high degree of mystery, much like the twelve trials of Hercules. No matter how powerful the attack was, as long as it did not reach a certain level, it would be absolutely impossible to harm the opponent.

"If this conjecture is true..."

Guinevere glanced down at the cracked longsword in her hand. This sword should have been Nuada's Sword of Light, but the true Sword of Light was broken. Could a broken sword still hold any glory?

But what if the glory is gone?

How will she overcome this obstacle?

"There must be some way, some way that I haven't thought of yet, mysterious, mysterious..." she muttered to herself. Perhaps even Guinevere herself didn't realize what she was whispering. She just looked at the silent God of War and thanked him in her heart that he wouldn't suddenly attack during this time. At the same time, she tried her best to think about the current situation and ignore the unease hidden in her heart.

If the Star Sword had been there, it might have been able to harm the opponent, but in the last moment before the Void Sea was about to collapse, she threw the sword to the Fisherman King and his daughter to protect them...

“An opportunity… Fafnir did say that what I lack is an opportunity, as long as I can seize it, as long as I can seize it… What else is there, the Holy Sword, the Holy Sword, Terena… the Mark of the Wind!”

Her eyes lit up.

This is the time.

A vibrant green leaf, seemingly real yet ethereal, slowly appeared on the back of her hand. With each breath, the surrounding wind seemed to come alive, its whistling sound like a whisper to the girl's ears.

It was like a cheer.

The Mark of the Wind comes from a deity who was defeated by the Nine Witches, that is, the power of a god.

Even if they don't know who that unfortunate god is.

But this power itself had truly accompanied her for over a decade. Compared to swordsmanship, Guinevere was arguably far more familiar with it.

She gazed at the pattern on the leaf. Although there was no evidence yet that it would definitely be effective against the God of War, a strange sense of peace settled over her. She then looked away, raised her longsword, and the blade trembled slightly as it passed her shoulder, like a shimmering ripple on water.

……

Two figures passed each other.

……

hum-

Guinevere stopped, flicked her wrist to shake off a few drops of blood from the tip of her sword, and turned around to see the God of War slowly turning around as well.

The area was crowded with people, yet so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Dozens, even hundreds, of eyes were fixed on the center of the open space, on the two people standing opposite each other, and on the sword in the girl's hand that was still gently chirping.

The cracks on the sword faintly shone through, as if they were original patterns, possessing a strange beauty.

Nuada's silvery eyes looked over, meeting the girl's gaze from afar. A thin red line gradually appeared on his neck.

He let go.

The longsword fell to the ground and shattered into several pieces with a crack. The next moment, the man and the sword slowly became transparent in the warm sunlight, like the light mist that spread before sunrise, which disappeared without a trace when blown away by the wind.

Only the girl, slightly out of breath, remained.

Guinevere wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Before she could put it down, she heard footsteps approaching and stopping beside her. The female magician smiled and looked down at her.

The blade reflected the seven-colored sunlight. The girl was stunned. Before she could speak, she found that everything around her, including Merlin, began to become illusory and disappeared little by little.

Finally, only a lone boulder remained. She looked at the boulder, a thought struck her, and she slowly walked over and re-inserted the sword into it.

Let go.

The white light flashed away.

It was no ordinary square stone—it was clearly a scabbard, fitting perfectly to hold the cracked longsword.

Guinevere watched as the sword stood on the ground, swayed slightly from side to side, and then suddenly fell over, the hilt landing perfectly in her outstretched hand.

that moment.

It was as if a gentle voice spoke in my heart: "You have proven your strength, so call my name. From this day forward, I will drink the sweetest wine with you and share the glory of victory—"

"Your name is Krausolas, the invincible sword, the glory of kings," the girl whispered, following the voice of her heart.

"Here—"

"The contract is established."

……

Above the town, a dazzling light suddenly burst forth from the giant cocoon, illuminating the surrounding fields and covering all directions. For a moment, even the brilliance of the sun paled in comparison!

P.S.: Qingbai at Nine O'Clock: Only 300 words left to reach 2,000 words, keep trying!

10 o'clock: I've written over 2,500 words, but it doesn't seem right to stop here. Let me write another paragraph...

11:00: Write one more paragraph and you can stop at a good point...

12 o'clock: I'll stop writing after this part...

a little:……

When I came to my senses, it was past 2 a.m., and this chapter already had 4,900 words. I was originally thinking of going to bed early tonight (dead look).

Chapter 136 Waves

Boom!Boom!Boom!

The giant cocoon hung high in the sky. Each jump was accompanied by a thunderous roar, followed by beams of silvery-white light that stretched out like swords. From a distance, it looked like an enormous curtain of light slowly being drawn back, covering the entire sky.

This scene was reflected in the old man's deep-set eyes, and for a moment, it reminded him of thirty years ago—an era in which heroes emerged and stars shone brightly. Although the ferocity of the Wave Beast had almost severed the connection between Britain and the Empire, there were still a very few strong individuals who could cross the raging waves to travel between the two places.

Under King Uther's power and prestige, England, Wales, and Scotland, despite constant internal friction, maintained a basic peace on the surface. Merlin, through some unknown means, introduced a crop called potatoes from across the sea, greatly alleviating the food shortage. Although the Picts in the north continued to wage war from time to time, overall, it was a period worth remembering for both nobles and commoners.

Even on the island of Britain back then, there were many strange and unheard-of magical beasts, some of which were extremely powerful—the Wave Beast was one of them. Some of these magical beasts were indifferent to worldly affairs and did not fight, but the vast majority regarded humans as mere dogs, killing and preying on them at will. At that time, most martial artists with superb skills were more likely to wield their swords to fight against these pests than to fight against humans.

Time flies like water. Caught in the cracks of the world, thirty years have passed in the blink of an eye. When he once again set foot on this familiar yet unfamiliar land, he found that everything had changed. The names that were once friends or enemies, or those that could only be looked up to, had all become history. At the same time, new stars were emerging.

What appears to be the cycle of life and death to ordinary people may seem insignificant in the grand scheme of history, like the fleeting glimmer of starlight.

Peres had no idea what was going on, but that didn't stop the "Fisherman King" from having a flurry of thoughts, his past and present intertwined, almost indistinguishable from one another. He simply watched as the giant cocoon in mid-air throbbed, more and more beams of light piercing through it, and silently prayed for the little girl he had only met once.

In his youth, he was a close friend of the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the two had a very deep friendship. The Archbishop had also helped him a lot in his search for the Trident of Poseidon. Now, recalling his old friend's face, the Fisherman King sighed deeply.

Faith is meant to give people a reason to do good.

However, doing good deeds does not necessarily equate to having a faith.

In that case, let the merciful God protect that kind little girl—he thought to himself.

……

My heart was beating, one beat at a time. At first, I was as weak as a patient who had been lying in bed for a long time, but slowly I became stronger and more powerful. Thump, thump, thump—thump! I felt my body. A warm feeling came from my fingertips and spread throughout my limbs. With each breath, my consciousness rose to the surface.

The girl opened her eyes and found herself in deep darkness. At first, she couldn't see anything, but after about ten seconds, as her eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, she could see a pair of majestic pupils not far away.

Dragon Eyes.

"The invincible sword, Krausolas. This sword represents victory, glory, and endless war. You have earned its approval, just as Nuada did before—so you too will eventually embark on the same destiny as the god of war."

Guinevere tried to speak, but for some reason, no sound came out. She looked at the jet-black dragon before her, its body now the size it had been when they first met. The dragon had folded its wings and was looking down at her from its superior position: "But that's all in the future. This time, you did very well. You didn't disappoint me, successfully gaining the sword's approval before this power was completely destroyed. As a reward, this remaining magic—"

Fafnir raised his left paw and gently tapped her forehead with his finger: "—It's yours now." Her heart pounded faster and faster, as if it might burst out of her chest at any moment. She couldn't help but take a few deep breaths, only to find that the dragon's body was turning from solid to ethereal, gradually transforming into a mirage-like phantom.

Boom!