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

"Ah."

"It's best to get some more sleep. At this age, you shouldn't stay up late, otherwise... you won't grow tall..." Remembering that the other person's body was forever fixed at this moment because they had pulled out the holy sword, she paused and didn't continue.

“You too.” The voice was as usual, and she imagined that slight smile in her mind: “I remember you said… you and I are the same age, fifteen years old.”

“But I’m half a month older than you.” She smiled back.

“When you measured us a few days ago, our heights were almost exactly the same.”

"...That's not right."

“I’m just stating a fact.” The voice sounded serious, but after a few seconds, both of them couldn’t help but laugh. After another moment of silence, she felt a hand reach out and pull up a corner of her cloak, then said, “The rock is too hard. If you don’t mind, you can lean on my shoulder. That should be more comfortable.”

"Al...you're a man." At least until you reveal your true identity, to save face for me who's trying not to expose you, you should now consider yourself a man, a knight who meets the moral standards of this era, she added in her mind.

The other person seemed taken aback for a moment; "Is there a problem? This is how Kai usually interacts with girls..."

"The problem is, you actually used Kai as a reference..." That despicable harem bastard!

“It’s not just Kai; the other knights in town all behave similarly.” He said defensively, “I thought… I thought it was normal.”

Those damned harem bastards!

She thought to herself, then sighed softly, "I think I'm starting to understand why so many girls in town confessed their feelings to you, Al."

"I...I'm sorry. Then just pretend I didn't say anything..."

"No—" She shook her head and snuggled closer to him. She leaned most of her body against him, tilted her head, and rested it on his shoulder: "I want to lean on you."

These words were spoken almost right next to the ear, and the other person's body immediately stiffened.

“Fina…”

She ignored him and instead asked, "...What will Kai and the knights you know do next?"

"Next...next step?"

Her voice trailed off, and even without opening her eyes, one could imagine the expression on the boy-dressed girl's face. The reply sounded hesitant, as if she had already guessed what she was about to say: "I'll use my arms... to pull that girl into my embrace."

"Left hand or right hand?"

This time, he was genuinely taken aback, frowned, and thought carefully: "It seems to be my right hand..."

"Then you can try it with your right hand too."

"...But you're leaning on my left shoulder. Using your right hand...it seems..." Raising her arm, she felt that hugging him like that would be completely different from what Kai and the others did. But she didn't need to imitate them... Amidst the chaos, she heard a low chuckle: "Hoo...hoohoohoo...hoohahaha..."

Like a child who had successfully pulled off a prank, she laughed and tried to sit up. But just then, her left shoulder, which had been resting on her head, shifted, and her left hand reached out, actually pulling the person into her arms. A moment of stunned silence, a rush of intense heat to her head, her face flushed red, and she tried to struggle, but then calmed down: "You...you actually did it..."

He spoke in a muffled voice, barely louder than a mosquito's buzz.

The other person was clearly also struggling with the situation: "I just feel... I should do it this way."

"Intuition again?"

"If you're unhappy, Fina, or feel that girls shouldn't be treated this way, I'll let go..." she said, seemingly unsure of what to do.

Thump, thump, thump—the sound of hearts beating, one rapid as if it might leap from the chest, the other steady and calm, as always, without any change. Listening to these two contrasting heartbeats, she smiled for a moment: "Doing this could easily lead to misunderstandings with girls. Especially since you're so handsome, Al..."

After saying this, he seemed about to pull his arm back, but she pressed it down in time: "But since it's already done, it's okay... Just be more careful next time." She patted the back of his hand: "Don't worry, I won't misunderstand... It's getting late, and it is a bit cold. If you don't mind, let's continue in this position. It's quite warm..."

"Ah."

She answered. For a while afterward, no one spoke. The girl in men's clothing sat there, looking up at the sky. It wasn't a full moon tonight; the stars were sparse, and the Milky Way stretched like a ribbon.

"You know, my intuition is often very accurate..."

"Yeah, it's probably because of that radar on your head. Whoosh..."

When they spoke again, the two had returned to their usual relatively intimate yet relaxed state. Not understanding why Fina liked to joke about her ahoge (cowlick), Artoria pouted slightly: "What's radar..." Having become somewhat immune to the strange words her companions occasionally uttered, she didn't press further, only muttering something before saying, "Because of my intuition, I can vaguely sense... you're not in a good mood."

Fina's long, golden hair cascaded down her back, right before her eyes. She couldn't resist reaching out to touch it a few times; its texture was smooth, like… well, based on her experience so far, she couldn't think of a better analogy. Someone had once described their hair as golden sand, but Fina's hair color reminded Artoria of vast fields of wheat swaying in the autumn harvest…

Fina always had a honey-like fragrance about her. Having her sit next to you was like having a small jar of honey beside you, making even the driest bread taste sweet and delicious. Of course, for now, you could only think this to yourself. If you accidentally said it aloud, given her personality, she'd probably yell, "I never imagined you, with your thick eyebrows and big eyes, would be secretly doing this kind of thing all this time! From now on, I'll charge extra every time you eat, and I'll pat your head three times—no, five times—"

The image of her raising her index finger, aggressively bargaining, was almost vivid in her mind. But when she looked away, she saw Fina curled up, and somehow, she had slid down and was now lying on her lap. This seemed to be what she called a "lap pillow." She had been too shy to agree before, but unexpectedly, she had been taken for her virginity unintentionally. It didn't really matter, but... looking at her long, flowing hair, she touched it again, almost as if possessed. There was no reaction, no rejection, but Artoria dared not touch it a third time.

She withdrew her arm and sat up straighter, assuming that Fina had fallen asleep, but then she heard her say softly, "I'm not in a good mood... Al, could you try to guess why I'm not in a good mood?"

This is a question that can be answered immediately without relying on intuition.

"Because of Uru's wife?"

"Guess again."

"It's about Terena."

"Guess again."

"You mentioned that the friend who can repair the Sword of Kings is Terena. So, she's a good person, or at least in your mind Terena is a good person... otherwise, she wouldn't have wanted to take me there."

"There is another possibility."

Altria nodded.

Perhaps Fina had ulterior motives, somehow damaging the sword in the stone… She witnessed the other party pull out the sword and then sheath it again; if they could do that, breaking it wasn't impossible. Then she used it as bait to lure her to Terena; her purpose… couldn't possibly be anything good.

But then she shook her head.

"There's only one possibility, the one I just mentioned."

"reason?"

"intuition."

"Hoo... Haha..." The soft laughter continued for a while before gradually stopping: "I have two worries, this is one of them. The other thing... is fear."

There was still some time before dawn. The moon was as white as frost. Looking down from halfway up the hillside, the entire village was shrouded in a layer of silvery light, its blurry outlines slowly becoming clearer in the darkness.

"It was Terena who first visited my father and invited me to join the Nine Witches. It was Terena who gave me this Wind Seal and carefully taught me for the next two years. It was Terena's help that allowed me to embark on this path and become the Fenna you stand before me now..."

"...But what I was really afraid of was that after Uncle Druid finished speaking, I couldn't produce any evidence to refute him...that wasn't Tyrena. I couldn't even confidently tell myself that Tyrena couldn't have done such a thing. I knew so little about her. After realizing this, I became very scared, very scared..."

A melodious zither tune drifted from somewhere, accompanied by no singing, yet it was more evocative than the playing of a typical bard. The notes danced on fingertips, and the music echoed in the night sky.

That was the melody of a harp.

Dust swirled on the dirt road outside the village as a rider galloped towards them. Astride the tall horse was a middle-aged knight, as burly as a brown bear, clad in armor, a longsword at his waist, and a lance slung across his horse. In the moonlight, a greedy, ferocious smile spread across his face, as if he were anticipating something. The emblem of King Marco gleamed on the hilt of his sword.

The red-haired knight sat on a tree outside the village, bow in hand, plucking the strings. He gazed silently at the eastern horizon, imagining the moment when the sky would soon turn a pale white, and dawn would burst forth. Perhaps, in that moment of overflowing vitality, his own pent-up emotions would find some relief…

A sigh, a sigh from who knows who, drifted away on the wind...

P.S.: I originally only planned to write around 2,000 words for this section, but as expected, it ended up being 4,000 words... Well, I won't break it up this time, I'll just post it directly. Then, I'm going back to Shenzhen tomorrow. I have a very serious motion sickness problem. Basically, sitting on a bus for one or two hours with poor air circulation can make me feel dizzy and uncomfortable for several hours, so there probably won't be any updates tomorrow.

...If there's an update tomorrow, consider it an extra chapter! That's how diligent I am!

Then, as usual, I'm asking for recommendations, favorites, and monthly tickets. Also... please post more comments. If you don't have anything to complain about, even just adding a "12345" in the title or at the end would be helpful. First, it gives the author a little idea of ​​what to write and gives them more motivation. Second, when new readers click in, they see the favorites, then the comments and reviews. If others have a hundred or two favorites and comments, and you only have a dozen or twenty, the difference is huge, and the book is definitely not interesting, so they'll just drop it. This happens quite often on BookKe. So... everyone, please help out and add some people to the discussion!

Chapter Thirty: Reminiscence

The night was as still as water, with gentle ripples on the surface.

At the foot of the mountain, in a nameless village, the night sky was clear, and the sound of a zither echoed. Behind him, a middle-aged man, his body mangled and bloodied, lay on the bed. Herbal remedies had effectively eased the pain of his wounds, allowing him to sleep peacefully for a while. His furrowed brows slowly relaxed at some point. In the deepest recesses of his memory, perhaps someone walked up against the light, their eyes met, and perhaps they exchanged a few words—words that had never been spoken.

On the hillside, the large rocks were cold, and a sky-blue cloak covered the two of them like a blanket, as if in the long night, only this corner still had a trace of warmth. However, the more she recalled the past, the more uneasy she felt. The Fairy Land, the Nine Witches of the Lake, the Seal of the Wind, and so on—things that had once made her proud suddenly became elusive and mysterious.

I met Terena ten years ago.

I remember it very clearly because that day was her fifth birthday...

According to the custom at the time, on one's birthday, a large pie would be baked by a family member—usually parents or siblings—and shared with relatives and friends. The more pie one shared, the better the luck would be in the coming year. Therefore, some people would also share it with strangers passing by. Some particularly proactive individuals would wander the streets and alleys, handing a pie to anyone they met. If it was delicious, everyone would be happy; if it was terrible… well, that's another story.

As the daughter of the King of Scotland, Guinevere's "birthday pie" was, of course, quite spectacular. It was said to have taken seven chefs three days and three nights to prepare, half meat pie and half apple filling. After being distributed to the castle's guests and servants, it was even given to the commoners in the surrounding territories—one of the few times a year they would have the opportunity to eat monster meat—though the taste would inevitably deteriorate considerably after a few days, it was still enough to earn praise for the King's benevolence.

It was evening, during the birthday banquet. Knights and lords of all ranks from the surrounding area had come to offer their congratulations. Even though she never liked these kinds of social occasions, she had to give her father face. Fortunately, people didn't expect a five-year-old to give a speech; she was simply meant to stroll around in front of everyone and make an appearance. At most, she'd be picked up and rubbed against their stubble a few times—it was all within tolerable limits. After accompanying her father for a while, her young body felt tired, so she went back with her maid to change her clothes and rest.

She had just taken off her dress when a commotion erupted outside. A maid went out briefly and returned to report that a strangely dressed, plump witch had suddenly barged in, somehow managing to get past the guards. She was stunned. A witch! In the fairy tales of her past life, witches appearing on princesses' birthdays were usually particularly detestable jinxes, spouting omens like pricking fingers on spindles or the entire kingdom falling into slumber—not a single good word.

She was torn. She decided to go out and see for herself, but she was afraid of triggering some kind of curse. Although she didn't remember any story about Guinevere being cursed by a witch in the legends, she was better off not doing it. Besides, there was no monster boar the size of an elephant in the Arthurian legends she had read!

But before she could make a decision, her father had already sent someone to summon her. When she arrived at the banquet hall, she saw a group of burly knights, some panting heavily and others lying on the ground, while a plump woman in a black robe and a pointed hat stood in front of her father, covering her mouth and chuckling softly.

Both her round, plump figure and her quintessentially witch's attire suggested she shouldn't be skilled in close combat. Yet, the woman carried a longsword at her waist, and her father's expression was incredibly grim, with a noticeable red mark on his face for some reason. Her heart skipped a beat; she had almost made up her mind to stay far away from the spindle from now on. But then the plump witch turned around, smiling at her: "Is this the last one?"

"Hey?"

Then he learned the whole story from his father.

In a sense, it was indeed a very traditional opening—people were chatting and laughing when suddenly the plump witch somehow slipped in, deftly evading the king's questions with clever words and magic, and then pointed to the longsword at her waist: "This is a sword symbolizing victory and glory. Only a born king or a person of utter purity and innocence can be recognized by this sword and drawn upon it. And the owner of this sword will never be defeated in his lifetime—"

Similar legends are not uncommon in this era. Aside from King Arthur's sword in the stone, she remembered the last person (god) to do something like this was… Odin, wasn't it?

Clearly, the well-informed knights were quite familiar with this tactic. One of them immediately went to draw his sword, but it seemed to be stuck in its sheath. No matter how much force he used, he could not pull it out. Some people suspected that the witch had tampered with it. So the fat witch took off the sword and handed it to the King of Scotland to show that she had not deliberately caused trouble.

The king himself tried to draw the sword, but failed, and Pat also failed. A lord named Manius, renowned for his superhuman strength, stepped forward, rubbing his hands together with extreme confidence. However, instead of drawing the sword, he used too much force, and the Scottish king lost his grip. The scabbard sprang out and smacked Manius in the face—hence the red mark. Because of this little incident, the sword later returned to the fat witch's hands—after all, no one wanted to be smacked again; the sound alone was painful.

The knights tried without success, then summoned the castle servants, who were also summoned. They tried each servant's turn, but still to no avail. Someone suggested that the maids try, but this was met with opposition. In the midst of the argument, the fat witch laughed and said, "On my way here, I heard that today is the Scottish princess's birthday? I wonder where she is."

“She’s only five years old… Well, it can’t hurt to give it a try.” Sensing the witch’s implication, the King of Scotland, who had originally intended to refuse, suddenly changed his mind and called his daughter over: “Go and pull out that sword. Don’t feel pressured, just try it—” He seemed not to expect his little daughter to be able to pull out the sword.

Some people around them chimed in, "Yeah, maybe our little princess can pull it out."

"Hey, I don't agree with what other people say, but if it's Guinevere, then I can barely accept it."

She glanced at her father, then turned to look at her brother. Pat was seventeen that year, a full twelve years older than her. Such an age gap would be quite exaggerated 1,500 years later, but it wasn't unusual then. He was blond, blue-eyed, handsome, and dashing—the classic prince charming. Their eyes met, and he smiled and nodded: "My little sister is so amazing, a sword is nothing to her…draw it and let everyone see!"

Relieved, he walked up to the smiling, plump witch and gently pulled...

At first, there was some resistance, but with a little effort, the sword was pulled from its sheath. Because the sword was too heavy for a five-year-old, he stumbled and fell to the ground after pulling it out. But no one laughed; the hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Only the fat witch remained all smiles: "Congratulations, congratulations! This little princess will either be the most virtuous saint in the future, or—"

The fat witch would come every two or three months on average, sometimes to teach her magic, sometimes to take her out to play, and sometimes to introduce her to all sorts of strange and wonderful magical beasts. Even when they encountered danger, she was well protected and never got hurt. The initial doubts gradually transformed into trust through these meetings.

Two years later, on her eighth birthday, the fat witch gave her a magically powerful seal as a birthday present: "This is the Seal of the Wind, and as its name suggests, it has the power to manipulate the wind. It is also the symbol of the Fairy Queen of the Lake... I have been searching for someone to entrust this seal to, and I finally chose you... But right now, although you are smart enough, you are still lacking in strength. When you have fully mastered the power of this seal, I will come to welcome you again... and officially make you one of us."

"—My name is Terena, one of the Nine Witches of the Lake."

The words still echoed in my ears, yet something in them seemed to have suddenly changed. Looking back, it all started from my fifth birthday; the way people looked at me seemed to have changed...

ps: There will be another update later.

Chapter Thirty-One: Dawn

A born king, or a saint who lives a life without sin.

But is there really anyone in the world who, from childhood to adulthood, has never made a single mistake in decades? If so, then another possibility inevitably makes one think more deeply.

However, whether Terenas's actions were intentional or not, Guinevere couldn't easily conclude at this point. "Never mind," she thought, "I'll go find Terenas and ask her directly." She considered this, and at least felt she had the necessary awareness, but somewhere deep inside, a possibility, a thing that might happen, something she might have to face, caused a slight tremor… She thought she had hidden this fear well, but it seemed she couldn't hide it from her travel companion of only half a month.

Honestly, intuition and all that… the ahoge radar and all that… she couldn’t help but complain inwardly. She secretly glanced to her side, only to meet a pair of clear eyes: “What’s wrong?”

"No..." He hurriedly looked away, "It's...almost dawn."

"Yes."

Speaking frankly, Artoria also looked up at the slightly brightening sky. Noticing the difference between the two, Guinevere suddenly felt a little discouraged. The other person's words and actions were imitating her adoptive brother and the knights she usually came into contact with, but in imitation, there was no real meaning.

and many more……

She was suddenly startled again.

This was clearly a perfectly normal thing, so why was she feeling discouraged and disappointed? Perhaps… Just thinking about it for a moment, an indescribable feeling suddenly welled up like a tide. She jolted awake, abruptly struggling to sit up from Artoria's embrace, sitting upright with a serious expression: “Artoria—”

Seemingly taken aback by her expression, the other person asked, "Wh...what's wrong?"

"Are your legs... numb?"

He paused for a moment, then said, "Yes... a little."

"Oh."

Nodding, Guinevere held up one index finger: "But! I won't rub it for you. You know why? Because Al, you're 'now' a boy, so you need to avoid doing things that might be misunderstood. Like I said before, try not to do anything that Kai or the other knights in town have done to girls—the same goes for me!"

"Okay." Artoria nodded obediently, then added a little aggrievedly after a while, "I... I didn't intend to ask you for help..."

And… was it just my imagination? Fina seemed to be emphasizing the word 'now'… Suddenly, I felt a little guilty. Then I saw Fina stand up, her cloak sliding down and almost completely draping over herself. She walked over: "Your shoulders must be sore too, let me massage them for you."

Having been leaned against like that all night, she hadn't felt anything before, but after that reminder, Artoria suddenly felt a bit sore. But just now, after being reminded with a raised index finger, there was immediate physical contact... something seemed off. She swayed slightly: "Didn't you say..."

"These two things are different. Would you massage your godfather's back and shoulders?"

“I used to… but then Hector said I wasn’t strong enough and told me to try using magic to release it, and then I…” His voice trailed off: “…I didn’t adjust my strength properly. After that, Hector only let Kai do these things.”

“...Then you should now think of yourself as Hector.”