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

The child was looking down, intently playing with a pistol-shaped lighter. The pink-haired woman sat cross-legged by the fire, wiping her sword with a cloth. After a moment, she looked up and stared blankly at the figure in black armor holding a can of luncheon meat.

"So, this isn't Japan?"

"I'm not sure either, but this place... should be Britain... do you know England?"

“I know. I’ve been here once before, but I only wandered around the London area for a while… The air pollution was so bad that you could barely see any scenery; all I remember are corpses everywhere. It was a truly awful era…”

After some conversation, thanks to her rudimentary spoken English and expressive body language, Guinevere finally pieced together the pink-haired woman's background—she introduced herself as Fujiwara Genshin, the Shinmen Musashi-no-kami, but after biting her tongue, she corrected herself to Shinmen Musashi. This name, coupled with her signature two-sword style, was enough for the young woman to equate the woman before her with a certain famous Japanese swordsman…

What? It's strange that Musashi is a woman?

With Artoria's example before her, how could she possibly be surprised by such a trivial matter? As the saying goes, anything is possible on the moon, but what surprised Guinevere was the other person's experience.

According to this female Musashi, she has been able to travel between different worlds since long ago, and this process is entirely beyond her control. Sometimes she may stay in one place for months, and sometimes she may only stay for a few days before she has to go to another world again.

Although she spoke of it in a relaxed tone, even with a hint of boasting, Guinevere could easily imagine the loneliness of being a stranger in a foreign land. She had only experienced separation once and still couldn't let go, while the other person had experienced the same feeling countless times. Thinking about this, she couldn't help but feel more respect for the person in front of her.

"These things belong to the previous world. Because I left in such a hurry, I was a little regretful that I couldn't take them with me. But for some reason, they all came with me... Maybe it was a good deity's doing. Amitabha, thank you."

The world Musashi previously lived in seemed to be the modern civilization that Guinevere was familiar with. Although it was unknown whether it was the Earth from her previous life, according to the female swordsman's description, there were iron boxes that could run without horses, small boxes that could communicate with people thousands of miles away, all kinds of technological products, and all kinds of snacks and food stalls that Musashi praised the most.

"...Although that world was absolutely perfect, there was only one downside—you could hardly ever encounter any bandits. And when you did, they were incredibly weak. I didn't even draw my sword; I just tapped them twice with the scabbard and they started crying. It was like I was bullying a child! It was infuriating! What kind of bandit could someone with that level of skill be? They should just go home and nurse... And for some reason, those soldiers wanted to arrest me! It was outrageous!" he said indignantly. "They must be in cahoots with the bandits!"

No, it's very likely just because you were brandishing a real knife in public...

From just these few words, Guinevere was able to conjure up an action comedy about an ancient swordsman bravely venturing into the 21st century. Fortunately, this female Musashi disliked indiscriminate killing and was extremely restrained in her actions; otherwise, if she had lost several lives, it wouldn't have been funny at all.

After chatting for a few more minutes, the topic returned to the present: "I arrived here about five days ago. It was nighttime, I think... The moment I landed, I was attacked by those strange arms and almost dragged away by them. At the last second, I was saved by some of this child's people..."

As Musashi spoke, she stroked the child's fluffy blue hair. The child squinted its eyes and hummed contentedly like a kitten. She smiled and continued, "This child isn't mute. That roar seems to be their tribe's way of communicating. After I was rescued, I traveled with them. Since we can't communicate by language or writing, we don't know who they are, what their purpose is, or where this place is... All we know is that this place is very strange; monsters lurk in the shadows, day and night."

"monster?"

“I only want this word.” Musashi shrugged. “For example, those strange hands you just encountered are the weakest of the various monsters, and also the most common. They basically appear whenever the light source disappears. Although they don’t have any special abilities, there are so many of them that you can easily get caught and lose your fighting ability if you’re not careful… These strange hands seem to be afraid of fire. Only by staying near flames can you avoid being attacked by them.”

"Then there's the second type. Monsters that are completely black, as if they've taken a bath in ink. They look similar to humans, some tall, some short, some fat, some thin, and some possibly male or female, but their appearance makes it really hard to tell... These monsters aren't afraid of fire, and their strength is a level above, like experienced martial artists. I've only encountered one in the past few days, and I won somewhat by luck. If I encounter them again... I'm not so sure I can win."

"So you just thought... I was also the second type of monster."

Musashi nodded.

“I know a little about those strange hands… and the black-clad warriors. In fact, I came here… precisely for this reason.”

"Really? That's great! I was just worried about what to do next. Yesterday, this child's parents... or maybe other relatives or something, there were three other people besides him. After they asked me to take care of the child, they left together and I don't know where they went. They haven't come back yet. I just walked around the area, but I didn't find any clues..."

Musashi tapped his head, looking genuinely troubled, but then smiled and said, "But as the saying goes, there's always a way out. In my experience, things will gradually get better once I encounter someone I can talk to who seems like a companion."

"The broth is boiling now, let's eat something to fill our stomachs first, then we can discuss what to do... By the way, you're probably a human wearing armor, right? Or is it one of those conventional armors that's actually hollow inside..."

"I am human!"

"I see. Then take off your cool helmet and get ready to eat... But you've been staring at this can for so long, do you like its design?"

"That's it."

Guinevere smirked, glancing at the can of luncheon meat labeled "Merlin Brand" in her hand, and chuckled. She wondered what Merlin's reaction would be if he saw this can. Oh, she couldn't read… a mischievous thought crossed her mind as she prepared to remove her helmet. The recent ups and downs had been unpredictable; she wondered how long the Dragon Armor would last today. She'd maintained it only to guard against ambushes from unfamiliar swordsmen, but now she could temporarily lower her guard.

Besides, she hadn't eaten anything decent for two days and had been in several fights, so she was starving. When she smelled the aroma of meat wafting out, she couldn't help but swallow. But when she put her hands on her helmet, she suddenly froze for a moment.

Musashi ladled a bowl of soup and handed it to the child, and was about to ladle a second bowl. She was holding the bowl in one hand and had just dipped the ladle into the pot with the other when suddenly a dark shadow flashed, and her friend with the lovely voice stood up with astonishing force.

"what happened?"

"what……"

"This, this, this..." Beneath the helmet, the girl's face was contorted with despair as she desperately tried to pull the helmet off. "What's going on? This armor! Why! I can't take it off—"

P.S.: Updated! Recommended by [Name/Please]

Chapter 179 A Cunning Idea

After much effort, Guinevere ultimately failed to retrieve the armor. Ultimately, the Dragon Armor wasn't a physical object, but rather a manifestation of Fafnir's remaining power. In a sense, it wasn't much different from her original half-human, half-dragon form, only significantly more fashionable in appearance.

With a single thought, armor can be conjured, and with another thought, it can be withdrawn—as simple as eating and drinking. But precisely because of this, when a problem arises, no solution can be devised in haste.

Then, as the girl's consciousness sank in, she was shocked again.

She remembered clearly that from the time she arrived at the small village where Uru and the others were in the morning, transformed into the Dragon Armor, fought several battles, to crossing the portal and arriving here, only a few hours had passed in total, and she had maintained this state throughout the entire time without ever changing it.

Although the Dragon Armor can only last for about an hour a day, reality isn't a game; there's no such thing as a skill cooldown. That one hour is precisely the time it takes for this power to go from abundant to completely depleted. Once it's exhausted, the only recourse is to wait for it to naturally recover through eating, resting, or getting plenty of sleep. In this respect, it's no different from ordinary minor magical energy.

But upon closer inspection, Guinevere discovered that the dragon's power, which she thought was nearly depleted, was still at full strength. Even more strangely, after observing it closely for a full ten minutes, she saw no decrease in the power, as if it could be maintained indefinitely.

This means that the Dragon Armor's only weakness, the time limit, is gone, which is certainly a good thing—if it weren't for the fact that it's now seemingly fixed to space, completely motionless, it would be practically flawless—even though it's practically weightless, wearing this kind of full-body armor still makes movement somewhat difficult. Plus, I was busy traveling the past few days, and I'm covered in blood and sweat. I was hoping to find a chance to take a shower as soon as possible, but what am I going to do now? I can't exactly jump into the water in this canned shape, can I…

Even when she was a man in her previous life, she was used to taking showers once or even several times a day because of the hot climate in the south. Now, needless to say, when she noticed that the armor seemed to be impossible to take off, her first reaction was that she couldn't take a shower now, and she felt a little depressed.

But they quickly rallied. The change in the dragon's power was undoubtedly related to this strange and eerie place; it was just another mystery to be solved. Besides, for the time being, the changes were more beneficial than harmful. With the dragon armor protecting him, he could withstand most attacks head-on, at least ensuring his safety.

After comforting herself with these words, Guinevere stopped banging her head against the tree, turned around and sat back down by the campfire. The broth in the pot had long been boiling, and the child, who had been watching her intently, hurriedly handed her a bowl of soup with a big smile on his face.

The girl took it and smiled at him—the helmet was shaped like a dragon's head with its mouth open, lifelike, covering most of her face completely, leaving only her eyes visible. The lower part covered her chin, revealing her mouth and a small section of her nose, which did not affect her normal eating and saved her from the tragic fate of starving to death.

The simple meal was made more colorful by the various canned foods. Considering the unknown situation and dangers around them, the three of them ate quickly, finishing off the entire pot of soup and several cans of luncheon meat in no time. The child took the initiative to help clean up the dishes, and she discussed the next plan with Musashi in broken Japanese.

After telling her about the bloodstains she found along the way, Musashi realized that her saviors, who had mysteriously left, had most likely met with misfortune. Of course, it was also possible that others had been killed, but in this unfamiliar place, they had no way of confirming the truth. Perhaps they were fortunate that they couldn't communicate, so they didn't have to worry about how to tell the child this devastating news. But this was a problem they would have to face sooner or later.

“Since they left this child behind, it’s my responsibility to protect him.” Glancing at the child who was still busy tidying up, Musashi turned his gaze back to the blazing flames, casually scratching his hair: “I plan to find a safe place to settle the child first, and then go investigate these strange monsters… What about you?”

She turned her head. Guinevere thought for a moment: "I'm looking for a bad person, she is very likely... to be the... mastermind of all this..." After thinking for a long time, she still didn't know how to say "mastermind" in Japanese, so she could only make a few random gestures. Musashi's eyes rolled, and he seemed to understand what she meant.

"So, as long as I act with you, we'll directly encounter the enemy's leader?"

“If all goes well,” the girl shook her head, “but that person is… cunning, and I don’t have… any clues yet.”

“Two headless flies are better than one flying alone.” The female swordsman laughed. “In that case, let’s travel together for a while. As the saying goes, you need friends when you’re traveling… Please take care of me.” After saying that, Musashi waved his hand again: “You look very tired. Go and get some sleep for a few hours. We’ll set off again when you wake up.”

"This……"

"Your turn to keep watch next time."

"……no problem."

Guinevere's condition wasn't exactly good, and seeing Musashi's decisiveness, she didn't stand on ceremony either. She randomly found a spot within the firelight, unfastened her sword, and used it as a pillow behind her head—unexpectedly, the Sword of Light seemed to really enjoy being used as a pillow by her, supposedly because she "felt a deep trust from this behavior," which left the girl speechless. She closed her eyes, and after a while, opened them again, gazing wistfully at the two figures, one large and one small, staring at her from a distance.

"what……"

“You really are…”

"I am human!"

It seems this joke won't be out of the question anytime soon until she finds a way to retrieve the armor. With a helpless smile, Guinevere truly closed her eyes this time, letting sleepiness wash over her, and soon fell into a deep sleep.

……

When I woke up again, the campfire was still bright, but the faint sunlight had vanished. The child was curled up in her sleeping bag, like a caterpillar, and was snoring softly. There was an extra blanket on her, and I didn't know who had covered her with it.

Musashi stood at the edge of the forest, his hands hanging at his sides, seemingly relaxed. But with the girl's discerning eye, it was clear that at the slightest rustle of wind, this swordsman could draw his sword in an instant and face any enemy in any direction. The flaws he displayed were merely traps to lure the enemy into attacking.

As Guinevere watched the female swordsman's retreating figure, several images flashed through her mind of herself attacking Musashi from that position. And with each shift of her gaze, Musashi's drooping hands, knees, calves, ankles bearing the main weight, and her pink hair tied in a bun all subtly changed.

The branches turned golden in the flames, occasionally crackling and sparking. The atmosphere in this makeshift camp was quiet and leisurely, yet subtly sharp as a sword. At one moment, Guinevere quietly reached out and grasped the hilt of the sword behind her head. At the same time, Musashi's fingers rested on his waist.

For a moment, the air seemed to freeze. Guinevere chuckled softly, then suddenly released her weapons at the same time as Musashi, pushed herself up from the ground, and grabbed the blanket that was sliding down her back: "Good morning."

"Good morning." Musashi walked over with a smile: "Just a reminder, staring at people's necks as soon as you wake up is not a good habit. It can easily be mistaken for a murderer."

"If you don't want to be stared at... then don't deliberately expose your neck."

"Oh, do you mean the back of my neck is very alluring?" As she spoke, she deliberately lowered her head, swaying her snow-white skin in front of the girl's eyes.

"You know perfectly well what I'm asking." Guinevere smirked, and without another word, she raised her hand and delivered a chop to the neck. Musashi ducked his head to avoid it: "Hitting someone while wearing iron gloves?"

“I have control…of my strength.”

"Really?"

"real."

"That's alright..."

"It will hurt a lot if I get hit," the girl replied seriously.

"Isn't this completely out of control?!" With a thud, this time Musashi delivered a solid chop to Guinevere's helmet.

The latter didn't react at all, but the one who had lowered her hand to chop off the ground shook her arm violently, gasping for breath: "Ouch, ouch, ouch... That's why I hate guys like you who dress like turtles the most." She shook her head with a smile, then turned and walked towards the campfire: "Come here for a moment, I've already picked out your share of torches, ten of them, that should be enough for now."

"Where to go? Have you got a clue?"

Since the child was still asleep, the two of them deliberately kept their footsteps and voices very soft.

In fact, if it weren't for the concern of potentially waking him, Guinevere felt she might have actually drawn her sword and fought Musashi.

The pose Musashi had just struck was simply too alluring—she had practically offered her neck to her without any warning. Even though the girl knew Musashi had a backup plan, the position was just too tempting, making the girl feel like she would be doing herself a disservice if she didn't chop her off.

Thankfully, she managed to restrain herself… But Musashi's nape was truly beautiful. Guinevere gazed at the skin peeking through her hair and couldn't help but lick her lips, really wanting to bite it. It must smell so good and sweet… Wait!

Noticing her inner thoughts, she suddenly snapped back to reality, feeling utterly bewildered.

It's not like I haven't seen other pretty girls before. Musashi is beautiful, but at most she's comparable to Artoria when she's dressed as Lily. How could I have such thoughts about someone I just met, and be so out of line...?

Just as he was filled with doubt and surprise, Musashi turned around and tossed a small pouch over: "Here, these are the tools you know how to use. I've packed them all up... Huh?" He was suddenly taken aback when he met the girl's gaze.

"what happened?"

Guinevere took the bulging little fanny pack, and seeing her expression, she was taken aback and subconsciously asked a question.

Musashi shook his head, looking somewhat puzzled. "No, I must have misread it."

In that brief moment when she turned around, she seemed to see her new friend's eyes suddenly become narrower, and a strange dark red light flickered within them. But the red light vanished in an instant, and when she looked again, the eyes had returned to their usual emerald green.

She sensed no hostility from the other person, so they probably weren't bad people... After a moment's thought, Musashi decided to continue trusting her intuition. She smiled and said, "While you were sleeping, I tried asking this child, and he seemed to know of a safe place nearby and promised to take us there."

"Great."

Guinevere perked up at the words. Although she still had questions about the inexplicable thoughts that had suddenly surged up, she knew that things had priorities. She shook her head, suppressed her doubts, and decided to think about them later.

"But how do you communicate with this child?"

"Hmph, of course it's body language. Although it can sometimes cause misunderstandings or even get you chased and beaten, most of the time these gestures are universal."

The words of a traveler who had wandered the world were very convincing. Musashi extinguished the campfire in a few moments, slung his backpack over his shoulder, grabbed the caterpillar-like child, and carried him on his shoulder like a sack of rice.

Guinevere stared in disbelief at her fluid movements, then at the still-sleeping child, and could only silently give a thumbs up.

Musashi accepted the compliment with a smile. She glanced around and pointed to the pouch in the girl's hand: "There's a compass inside. If I understand correctly, heading south seems to lead to a safe place. There should be people there who can give us information..."

“Okay…” She pulled out a palm-sized compass, the kind that sailors used during the Age of Exploration would use. She wondered if Musashi had bought some movie merchandise. But since it worked, Guinevere had no complaints. She held it up to examine it, then pointed south: “This way, let’s go.”

"Oh!"

It was nighttime, moonless, with only a few stars in the sky. Occasionally, an unknown bird would fly by. A slightly chilly wind rustled through the woods, sounding like ocean waves. A figure in black armor walked forward, holding a torch in one hand. He would occasionally swing his sword to cut through the vines and strange tree roots blocking his path. Sometimes he would stop and take out his compass to check the situation.

A swordsman in brightly colored clothes followed behind, carrying a bulging backpack on one shoulder and a sleeping child on the other, a lit torch in his hand. His steps were as light as a cat's, making no sound. The three disappeared into the woods in moments, one after the other, while in the direction they had come from, a dense darkness surged up, silently swallowing everything around them…

About a day later.

The three finally left the forest and saw a hazy outline in the distance, resembling a village.

……

Chapter 180 Strange Things and the Truth

The torchlight flickered from near to far, paused at the edge of the village, and then turned back. In the dim moonlight, the surrounding scenery was veiled in a thin gauze, hazy and indistinct.

Guinevere watched the child beside her. Ahead, Musashi held a torch in one hand and drew his sword with the other, kicking open a half-closed door. As the wooden door swayed, a faint smell of blood wafted out. The girl sniffed: "Musashi."

"Hmm, I smell it too." Musashi replied casually, standing in front of the door. He glanced around inside, and seeing that there was no danger, he stepped inside.

Guinevere and the child stayed outside, not following them inside. She looked around at the empty houses, frowning. "It's like this again, no one's here... Strange. Are you alright?"

Finally, she patted the child's head. The child looked up, seemingly not understanding what she was saying, with a blank expression. It was a pity she hadn't learned sign language before… and even if she had, she probably wouldn't need it now. Guinevere shook her head and gave a bitter smile to herself.

From the moment the child saw the village in the distance, something seemed off. She appeared both apprehensive and excited, and she almost ran off on her own if Musashi hadn't stopped her. However, as they searched house by house without finding anyone else, their excitement gradually turned into despondency.

Judging from the child's behavior, this might be his home... Although she had made this guess before, the language barrier prevented her from confirming it. In any case, she had recently encountered an almost identical situation, and looking at the deserted village that resembled a ghost town, she had only a bad feeling.

Soon, Musashi came out, met the two pairs of eyes looking at him, and shook his head.

"Didn't you find anything?"

“Still the same, can’t find where the bloody smell is coming from. And nobody knows where the people who lived here have gone…no clue whatsoever.” As she spoke, she casually pushed the door shut with the hilt of her sword, slamming it back shut. Musashi approached the two, kicking a small stone in frustration. “What’s going on in this village! So sneaky…it’s so annoying!”

Watching the small stone trace a beautiful parabola in the air before landing with a thud between two houses across the way, rolling away into the deep shadows, Guinevere sighed, "Who knows... In my memory, Britain... doesn't have such a strange... tribe."