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

These were the words his father spoke to him and his brother before heading to the final battlefield. They were also the only memory this young man, who had lost his father at such a young age, of the man whose face was now blurred. He forced out these words, and the fear that had filled him lessened considerably.

No one can escape death.

Therefore, we have the right and the responsibility to choose when, where, and for what reason we should die.

That is the case.

Then what do I have to be afraid of!

"Hahahaha!"

Miles, who had been struggling to pry open the black tentacles binding him but to no avail, suddenly burst into laughter upon hearing the boy's trembling voice shout: "Well said—"

The tentacle tightened suddenly, a sharp crack echoed, and the man's head snapped to an eerie angle. His eyes were wide open, his mouth agape, but before he could finish a sentence, he could never speak again. Bedivere trembled, his eyes red-rimmed, a mixture of tears and blood welling up within him. His mind went blank, and with a swift movement, he grabbed the broken half of the doorframe beside him.

This was the only thing around him that could be used as a weapon.

Terenas merely sneered disdainfully: "So what? Where is your noble soul? Show it to me. A bunch of idiots! Once you're dead, you're nothing. You don't even understand such a simple truth—" The three-meter-tall black giant suddenly writhed, its limbs and faceless head retracting into its body simultaneously. As the tentacles that had been gripping Miles withdrew, the man's corpse crashed to the ground, his entire head shattering into pieces, blood and brain matter gushing out.

"It's okay if you don't understand, I'll teach you!"

The next moment, the giant solidified again, and a longer, thicker black arm emerged from its swamp-like, writhing body and swept over with a whoosh.

Bedivere's eyes were bloodshot, and he looked ready to pounce and fight to the death, but at the last moment, he leaped to the side, narrowly avoiding the sweeping attack. Before the tentacle could retract, he raised the half-frame and slammed it down heavily!

Wood chips flew everywhere!

But this attack did not cause any damage to the giant. With a wave of its tentacle, the boy's body was sent flying into the air. Terena screamed, "Crush this brat!"

The giant's other arm had also taken shape. With this sharp command, "whoosh—" the entire arm, like a long whip swung in a circle, swept fiercely towards the youth!

If this attack hit, he would be instantly turned into mincemeat. But he was in the air and had no leverage. In addition, after taking that blow, he could barely move even a little finger. How could he dodge? He watched helplessly as the huge black shadow grew larger and larger until it filled his entire field of vision. Bedivere's heart sank.

Fear surged up, but he forcibly suppressed it.

"I won't die—"

He reminded himself of this.

It was as if, through countless nights of dreams, the tall, indistinct figure from which he could no longer recall his face had repeatedly told him this: No one can escape death; everyone will die. The only difference is that some people die meaningfully, and some do not.

But in a daze, just as the black whip was about to strike, Bedivere suddenly thought he heard the sound of horses' hooves... It must have been his imagination. How could anyone be riding by at a time like this... It was just his imagination.

He thought to himself, closed his eyes, unwilling to look at that tiny bit of hope in his heart.

……

It's not an illusion.

……

A horse neighed loudly, and a fine iron spear, stained with blood, ripped through the air as it was forcefully hurled at us!

At the same time, a hearty laugh rang out: "--Good!" As if filling in the last word Miles hadn't uttered, the roar shook the dust off the surrounding houses, causing it to fall in a flurry, creating a dust storm that resembled a sudden, small sandstorm.

The hurled spear effortlessly pierced the black tentacle that was about to strike the boy, and its momentum carried the entire black giant, causing it to stagger several steps. The black tentacles smashed down two houses in succession, and with a deafening roar, half of the spear was deeply embedded in the soil, pinning the giant to the spot!

Then a man and a horse emerged from the scattered dust and sand. The man on horseback shouted again, "Miss Fenna, the person is in your hands now—" He didn't even slow down the horse, and just galloped towards the black giant in front of him.

From within the dust, a voice seemed to answer. Before them, the colossal giant, while trying to pull his left hand, pinned to the ground, seemed to slowly swing his other arm—when the size reaches a certain point, the apparent slowness is merely an illusion—sweeping across. Royal threw his spear, unarmed, but simply laughed, then swung his arm and threw a punch, meeting the imposing whip head-on.

boom!

A shockwave, visible to the naked eye, instantly spread outwards. The taut cloth covering Royal's body tore apart, revealing the bandages underneath. Blood was seeping from beneath the bandages. His hair danced wildly in the wind, and his horse came to a halt. However, in front of him, the black paper giant was indeed like a piece of light paper, flying backwards and shattering into countless tiny black paper fragments in mid-air. These fragments fluttered down to the ground and disappeared without a trace!

The spear, deeply embedded in the ground, was also lifted by the powerful force, spun several times, and landed steadily in Royal's hand. He then thrust the spear downwards, forcefully plunging it into his own shadow: "Terena, get out here—"

A piercing scream echoed from the shadows, and as the spear was raised, beads of blood rolled from its tip. Royal steered his horse back a few steps, staring at the ground where blood was gradually seeping out. Even after he had left, the shadow remained in place, and with his roar, the entire shadow seemed to "stand" up out of thin air.

Like a balloon being blown bigger and bigger, the shadow expanded continuously until it finally transformed into a lifelike human figure. Then the blackness receded, and vibrant colors reappeared. In just a few breaths, the person standing there was now a plump, middle-aged woman adorned with gold and silver.

Nine Witches, Terena.

"Ah, Sir Royal, it's been a long time. Honestly, you were just injured not long ago, yet you still possess such formidable strength... Are all knights of this era monsters?" She squinted her narrow eyes, her tone sweet and cloying as she chuckled, yet there wasn't a single wound on her body. If it were a young girl, such behavior could be considered playful, but given her well-maintained noblewoman's attire, it only sent chills down one's spine.

Royal looked at her warily, but when he spoke, it was a different question: "Why are you able to manipulate shadows? If I remember correctly, this should be Lady Grettor's unique magic—"

"Yeah, why..."

Terenas smiled sweetly, but her gaze wasn't on him; instead, it fell behind the man. The dust that had been stirred up was now settling, revealing the people who had been hidden.

She looked at one of the small figures—and at the long sword hanging at the other's waist, her smile widened even more: "Hehehe... guess why?"

ps: Third update!

I originally wanted to write more, but it's getting late. I'm not a teenager anymore, and I can't stay up all night, so I'll stop here. At least I'll stop at the boss battle. The next chapter will be available for purchase. There will be a launch message later; if you think it's too long, you can read the abridged version here:

Please subscribe! Please add to your favorites! Please recommend! Please vote with monthly tickets!

How about that? Doesn't it feel like a resounding revelation, every word a gem?

Testimonials

Nice to meet you all! Long time no see, everyone! I always order iced milk tea with lots of milk and little sweetness at tea restaurants, but because of my accent, sometimes the waiters mishear me as ordering iced lemon tea with lots of milk and little sweetness... So, where does the milk come from in lemon tea?

Okay, that concludes my light novel-style self-introduction.

Thank you all for finding this book and reading it all this way. Most of the recommendations for this book so far have been based on so-called metaphysical recommendations, so I think it's not easy for us to gather here. We've all been guided by some mysterious force. This is fate!

Since we're so connected, I'll definitely subscribe, right? I'll definitely vote with my recommendation tickets and monthly tickets, right?

What, that's not right?

The immigration office on the Blue-White Planet does not accept this answer. Please go back and study properly before applying for entry!

……

Joking aside, the editor, Miss Guiyuan, said the launch message was just something casually written; the main purpose was to get subscriptions. Now that we've finished asking for subscriptions, let's chat a bit more.

I've been looking forward to this launch announcement chapter for over two years. Since I started writing on Shuke, I've seriously written five books: Wuguang, Zhushi, Jeanne, Sharo, plus this one, Guinevere. But only Zhushi is truly something I can be proud of. Or rather, half a book. Ever since the ancient arc ended, I've been stuck in a vicious cycle: I'd write over 100,000 words, and then something just wouldn't feel right, so I'd scrap it and start over, then delete it again after a while. That's how I lost interest and attracted many readers. The reason is obvious—it's all about being anxious and insecure. But that's the problem; it's a hurdle I have to overcome.

Now, I feel I can try to overcome this hurdle and break out of this vicious cycle.

……

Regarding the Type-Moon theme, I actually decided to write a fanfic featuring Saber as the female lead a very, very long time ago, around the time of the Beijing Olympics. Of course, ten years have passed, and many things have changed. Saber has created numerous alternate accounts, and the original concept has been constantly revised and expanded. During the Five Lights arc, it was one idea; with Jeanne, Sara, or the Fuyuki and Musashi side stories, it was yet another. Now, that initial intention has become this Curry Stick fanfic, which is practically unrelated to the concept from ten years ago. It's like the Ship of Theseus—is it the same ship as the original one?

This is a paradox.

But often, a question doesn't need a definite answer.

If the original intention remains, then so be it.

So some people say, "Moon fanfiction is everywhere, I don't read it," some say, "Qingbai, I'll read it if you don't write Type-Moon," some say, "You, Qingbai with thick eyebrows and big eyes, are starting to ride the wave of popularity too!", and some ask, "Why do you write Moon fanfiction?" or "Why do you even write about Moon?" etc. Actually, there aren't so many whys, it's just that I like it.

The book didn't get off to a bad start. At over 100,000 words, the pacing and character development were poor, and its performance was lukewarm. I felt frustrated from time to time, and even threw tantrums like a child. A few days ago, I was so depressed I almost repeated the same mistake. But then I thought about it and asked myself, can I really let it go?

Can't let go.

A ten-year-long yearning, finally put into this book, deserves a happy ending. Considering that even our King did his utmost to save Britain, a mess beyond repair, what right do I have to continue writing this story if I wallow in self-pity and give up just because my results were slightly off?

And so I felt relieved.

Heaven and earth are indifferent, so I'll just keep writing. I'll never improve if I don't write; if I write well, people will naturally support me. That's probably how things work in this world. I'll write well, focus on this story, and you all can just read it. If you find it interesting, add it to your favorites, subscribe, and give it a round of applause—that will be enough for me. As I continue writing this story, I'm confident it won't lose to Qiu Ye's ancient-themed works, and might even surpass them… haha. This isn't just empty talk. Whether you've read my previous books or started reading this one, it's fate that we've come together. I'll pull myself together and try my best to write this story well and bring the characters to life within my capabilities. So please look forward to it!

After much rambling, it's already a little over 1200-1300 words. I doubt many authors have written such a long and drawn-out review. It's my first time, so please bear with me.

Finally, let's talk about something practical. It seems like everyone has to work incredibly hard to update more chapters before a book goes on sale, but it seems like not many people start working like crazy the night before a book goes on sale, like Qingbai did. She updated three chapters in one night, about 10,000 words. One reason was to push the plot forward and create a break in the chapters so that people would be more willing to subscribe—of course, she didn't succeed in breaking the break.

The second point is also to warm up beforehand and get into the zone. As everyone knows, Qingbai doesn't have any drafts saved up, and even if she did, she couldn't resist posting them immediately, so she can't guarantee how many chapters will be released on the day of publication... She can only say that she will do her best!

These past few days, I've been putting in as much effort as I can, writing and posting as many chapters as I can. If possible, please post a few comments for each chapter. There's not much else to say, but it would be good to just state the number of readers at the beginning of each chapter. Don't bury yourself in your work for eight hours after it's published, only to look up and find that no one has read it. It's bound to be discouraging.

That's about it. Looking at the time, it's already past three or four o'clock. Time flies; I'm already in my twenties, not a teenager anymore. I shouldn't rely on my physical strength anymore. I need to sleep for a few hours to have the energy to work and write tomorrow. Finally, let me summarize the central idea of ​​this chapter—

It's going to be available for purchase soon, please subscribe! (Sound of excitement)

Please subscribe!

subscription!

阅！

兑！

兄！

儿！

Chapter 55 War and Situation (Part Two)

As they continued onward, they spotted the bizarre, three-meter-tall black "paper figure" in the distance, and Guinevere and her companions immediately sensed something was wrong. That direction was their destination, and this paper monster didn't seem benevolent. Besides Gretel, there didn't appear to be any other magicians among Royal's group, so Miles and Bedivere, who remained in the village, were probably... Without further thought, Royal took the lead and rushed over.

Although Artoria was also skilled in riding, she needed to keep an eye on Nemia beside her, and besides, the two of them sharing a horse inevitably affected their speed. Before long, they fell behind. Just then, Royal threw his spear, stopping the paper figure's attack at the last second, and shouted, "Miss Fina, the person is in your hands!"

"I will handle it!"

The man's voice boomed like thunder, shaking several long-dilapidated houses nearby and sending dust billowing into the air. Artoria steered her two horses into the dust storm, causing Nemia to cough violently, tears welling in her eyes. Guinevere shouted back, then called out, "Artoria—"

Artoria immediately understood her meaning. The horse galloped forward, the knight on the horse leaned forward, and behind him, the blonde girl lifted her hands up. A green leaf pattern flashed by, a gale howled, and she was lifted into the air!

When it comes to wind, most people's first thought is undoubtedly flight. Since obtaining the Wind Mark from Terena, Guinevere has regarded it as a great asset, constantly studying it and trying to uncover all its functions. Among these, what she yearns for most and what she devotes the most effort to is the so-called ability to ride the wind.

But the reality is cruel.

After countless failures and setbacks, Guinevere had to accept the fact that the power of the Wind Mark was insufficient to allow her to truly soar through the sky like a bird. However, while a brief pause or movement in mid-air would still be difficult, it was not impossible.

Previously, when she was trapped in the barrier that resembled the Four Branches Shoal, she had tried to escape from the sky using this technique. Unfortunately, the Wind Mark inexplicably failed, leaving her no choice but to face the shadowy enemy wielding a gun head-on. At this moment, she raised her hands, and a strong wind arose out of thin air. Under her control, it gradually contracted, transforming into two pairs of translucent cyan wings that spread wide. Like a professional paraglider pilot, the girl zigzagged and twisted, using the wind to glide diagonally through the air. With a reach of her hand, she caught the rapidly falling silver-haired boy.

The sudden increase in weight caused Guinevere to sag, but her wind-formed wings flapped gently, allowing her to adjust her posture even in this state, minimizing the burden on herself and the other person. After catching the boy, she immediately dispelled her magic, the wind wings behind her vanished, and she landed back on the ground, glancing towards the direction where Royal and the others were.

It was precisely the moment when Royal smashed the paper monster with a punch, and Terena emerged from the shadows.

……

"Hehehe...Guess why?"

Even after her "paper giant" was sent flying by a punch and she was forced to reveal herself, the woman remained completely at ease, a smile on her face. Neither her expression nor her voice showed the slightest sign of panic. She could even lightly chuckle as she tossed the question back to her.

Royal, mounted on his horse, gripping his spear, coldly looked down at her: "No wonder we haven't been able to contact Ms. Grettor lately... It seems something has happened there too."

When Gretel came to their door earlier, they had a conflict. Royal suffered a lot because of her unpredictable and strange magic. He was deeply impressed by her fighting style of manipulating shadows and combining offense and defense. It was precisely because of this that he was able to force out the hidden Terena with a punch and a spear. However, he was no longer a rookie on the battlefield and naturally did not think that he had the upper hand.

Those who become careless after getting a little taste of success usually don't live long.

What bothered him even more was that Terenas knew Gretel's unique magic. Various speculations surfaced in his mind, making the knight's expression even more serious. Terenas looked at him, a slight smile playing on her lips as if amused: "Actually, Gretel has been on my side from the very beginning. You've all been completely fooled... Do you believe that?"

Royal remained silent.

"Or perhaps, Grettor was already killed by me. And then I took all her little tricks with me... Anyway, she had no disciples, so she was just sitting there, and I might as well use them. If that's the case, then, esteemed Sir Royal, would you be able to accept it? Hehehe..."

“It doesn’t matter,” the knight replied. “Whatever the truth is, what I’m going to do will not change.”

"Oh?"

Terenas raised an eyebrow, watching him with interest. Royal released his right hand, and the spear, as if alive, spun twice in his grasp before he held it again, the cold iron now warmed by his body heat.

"I'll kill you here—"

"End this damned thing!"

The words have not yet fallen.

The knight had already thrust out his spear.

The two were several dozen paces apart, a distance that, while insignificant to a horse, was certainly not within the reach of a spear. But as he thrust forward, the tip of the spear suddenly generated an incredibly powerful suction force, like a vortex, drawing everything around it in—

The nearest half of a house was launched into the air with a loud cracking sound and crashed towards us, followed by leaves, broken branches, and countless specks of dust. Not far away, a poor tree bent over sharply, and cracks began to spread from the bent section. The air seemed to be distorted to varying degrees, and in our field of vision, the air currents swirled and gradually condensed into a huge spiral spear in front of the spear.

Terenas was also swayed by the powerful suction, but her feet seemed rooted to the ground, firmly planted, and she remained motionless. Before the spiral spear could fully take shape, she stretched out her hands, and three different marks simultaneously appeared on the backs of her hands: a golden, curved lightning bolt, a blazing flame, and two swords of different lengths. However, the lightning and sword marks were almost transparent; only the flame suddenly became clear.

In the name of God—

With a deafening roar, a wall of fire, several meters wide, rose from the ground, blocking her path between her and Royal. At that moment, the knight raised his lance, the massive spear spinning rapidly as it thrust forward, easily tearing through the suddenly appearing wall of fire. This seemingly formidable wall of fire, however, had no effect whatsoever on his attack. But Terena's voice continued: "In the name of the Mother—"

The flame marks faded quickly, replaced by lightning marks that solidified from a faint outline. In the blink of an eye, the clear blue sky above them turned pitch black, not a single ray of light could penetrate.

Click!

Dark clouds piled up, golden snakes slithered, and a bolt of lightning as thick as a bucket suddenly struck Royal!

He let out a muffled groan, clenching his teeth, blood seeping from between them. The blood-soaked bandages on his body ripped apart with the blow, revealing mangled, charred wounds. His fingers, gripping the spear, loosened, and the weapon clattered to the ground. As the suction dissipated, the rapidly spinning spear vanished without a trace. At the same time, Terena swiftly uttered the final words: "...In my name!"

She separated her hands.