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

Chapter 83 The Loosening Seal (Part 2)

The laughter faded, and in a daze, the outlines of something gradually emerged in what had been a completely dark world. It resembled an ancient castle, with black vines climbing up it, and only through the gaps could one glimpse the moss-covered stone bricks, weathered by time and dampness. Behind the castle, a scarlet full moon shone down, its light accompanied by the fluttering sound of wings.

Instead of the bats or birds expected, they were strange monsters somewhere between dragons and eagles. Their figures emerged from the moonlight, flying around the castle, occasionally raising their short, thick necks covered with hard scales and letting out strange and unpleasant roars towards the castle.

When Guinevere came to her senses, this was the scene that greeted her.

She felt as if her soul had left her body and was high in the sky, looking down at these things: the abandoned castle, the scarlet full moon, and the dragons and mythical beasts. Then, a light suddenly came on from a window hidden by vines.

The dim, yellowish light struggled to pierce the darkness, faintly illuminating the vines outside the window. Only then did the girl notice that the seemingly segmented protrusions on the vines were actually faces—men and women, young and old. Some had their mouths open as if to speak, while others bit their lips tightly, looking aggrieved; some seemed to be laughing heartily, while others looked as if tears were welling up in their eyes, and still others seemed to be desperately enduring some intense pain. All sorts of expressions were frozen in the moment of complete emotional release.

Laughing heartily, crying miserably, her expressions of endurance were deeply moving. The person who was wronged made one want to clench their teeth for them. Looking at her, it was as if one's own emotions were changing along with hers. One moment she was extremely happy, and the next she felt that there was no one more miserable in the world than herself. All sorts of memories, past lives and present lives, if Guinevere hadn't reacted at the last moment, the intense contrast between the ups and downs would have almost caused her to have a mental breakdown.

All of this was achieved by simply glancing at one section of the black vine.

In just a short section less than half a meter long, there were no fewer than a hundred faces crammed together. Looking at the rest of the "vine wall" that almost covered the entire castle, Guinevere couldn't help but feel a chill in her heart.

What kind of hell is this place?!

Suddenly, the girl noticed something else. As the dim light shone out, the black vines moved aside as if they were actively avoiding the light. The light lingered at the window for a moment before slowly moving towards the left side of the corridor.

With a thought, her "body"—though she didn't know if it still existed in this state—remained in the seemingly endless sky, but her gaze pierced through the red moonlit castle shell, through the black vines covered with human faces, and saw a figure walking slowly down the corridor.

It appeared to be a young woman in her early twenties—the word "appeared" is used because she was shrouded in a hazy blue light, obscuring her clothing and features. One could only estimate her gender and approximate age by her long, flowing, icy-blue hair and the curves of her body. The woman carried a rusty lantern, and although there was no wind in the corridor, the light swayed violently, as if it might go out at any moment.

As the woman walked forward, the scene before Guinevere's eyes shifted accordingly, always centered on the woman holding the lamp. This feeling was almost like the God's-eye view in those games from her past life, giving her a strange feeling.

It was unclear what kind of shoes the woman was wearing, but they made a crisp, clattering sound as they landed on the floor. The sound carried forward for about five or six minutes, stopping before a tightly closed door. A remarkably large circular pattern was painted on the door in several colors of paint. Guinevere's knowledge of magic was limited; she could only roughly recognize it as a runic magic circle, and judging from the flashing light, it was clearly still active. However, she had no idea what its specific effects were. She watched as the woman transferred the lantern to her left hand, removed a gold ring from her left wrist, and placed it on the middle finger of her right hand, making a fist and pressing the ring against the center of the magic circle on the door.

The light from the magic circle suddenly dimmed.

at the same time.

The same mad voice from before suddenly echoed in Guinevere's mind again: "Hehehe...hehe, hehe, hehehe, he, hahahaha..." Amidst the strange sounds that were both crying and laughing, the woman spread her right hand, placed it in front of the door, and gently pushed. Without her exerting any force, the seemingly incomparably heavy stone door creaked open.

Beyond the stone door lay a completely empty room. There were no windows, no bed, no tables or chairs, not even a pile of straw. It resembled a prison for criminals. Apart from the four cold walls, the room contained only a few small seashells and a palm-sized wooden boat on the floor. A figure was huddled in the corner, and the "heh heh heh" laughter seemed to be coming from him.

Hearing the door open, the crying abruptly stopped. The person looked up and saw the figure shrouded in blue light, seemingly stunned for a moment. As the lantern's light shone into the room, Guinevere also saw the person in the corner.

His gray hair, unkempt and matted, obscured most of his face, but it was still recognizable as that of an elderly man. He wore expensive clothes, but they were tattered and worn, their original color almost unrecognizable, as if they hadn't been washed in ages. He sat barefoot, hugging his knees, huddled in a small ball. When he raised his head, his face was still streaked with tears, and his bloodshot eyes glared fiercely at the woman carrying the lantern through his disheveled hair.

"Let me out—"

Almost the instant the woman stepped into the room, he pounced on her like a wild beast. The woman frantically raised her lantern to defend herself, but in the next instant, the lantern was slapped away and sent flying, crashing against the wall. The light flickered a few times but didn't go out immediately. The two figures collided, separated, and then overlapped again. The disheveled old man gripped the woman's neck with such force that the veins on his arms bulged: "Let—me—out—of—the—room!"

There was no answer. No sound. The broken lantern spun on the floor. The door was half open, and the woman was being choked, her body suspended in mid-air. Because of the blue light, her expression was obscured, but the old man's gaze gradually shifted from fierceness and anger to despair.

“…Hehe, hehe…”

He let go, and the woman fell to the ground with a thud like a broken doll. He didn't look at her again, but moved back to the dark corner with heavy, slow steps, hugging his knees and burying his face in them, sobbing softly.

On the other side, after a moment, the blue-haired woman slowly got up again, turned around, and tidied up the broken pieces of the lantern, still remaining silent. Silence descended upon the empty little room, with only low sobs and soft breathing alternating between the sounds. Time passed second by second, and at some point, the sobbing quietly ceased. The old man shakily stood up and then shakily walked towards the woman in the center of the room.

The woman squatted there, fiddling with several small wooden boats. When the old man approached, she didn't look up, but silently handed him one. He took it, sat on the ground, and twisted the boat around as if he had become a child, grinning and laughing heartily. After playing like this for a while, the blue-haired woman silently got up, walked behind the old man who was completely absorbed in the boats, and began to comb his messy hair.

His white hair was combed up, revealing his face, which made Guinevere pause in surprise—this crazy person looked six or seven parts similar to the old man who blocked the road and shot down half a mountain with an arrow.

Could they be relatives?

Just then, the perspective suddenly shifted again, from behind the woman to directly in front of them. She saw the old man playing with the wooden boat, a childlike, innocent smile on his face, but his eyes were fixed on them, and his lips moved as if he were speaking. But Guinevere didn't hear anything, or rather, before she could hear anything, the blue-haired woman looked up and met her gaze.

"Have you seen enough?"

A hoarse female voice suddenly pierced through thousands of meters, landing directly in her ears. But what surprised Guinevere even more than the voice was the woman's appearance. Her heart skipped a beat—

Where the other person's eyes should have been, there were only two large, dark, bloody holes!

……

P.S.: I adjusted it a bit, but it seems I can't place the last paragraph exactly at the pagination break... Oh well!

The book's collection count remains at 7744. There are only two or three days left before it leaves the new book list. After that, it will most likely remain at the bottom of the list for life. So... I hope everyone can give it as many monthly tickets as possible in these last few days.

P.S.: Given how dismal the number of comments has been lately, I'll offer a small reward. If this chapter gets more than forty comments by 7 AM tomorrow (excluding random ones), I'll update twice tomorrow.

Chapter 84 Returning to Reality

"Heh...heh heh...hehehe."

"Have you seen enough?"

The two people in the secret room looked up at the same time. The woman's hoarse voice rang in her ears. The volume was not loud, but it was like a thunderclap. It made Guinevere's head buzz. It was as if someone had hit her hard with a hammer. In the pain, the whole world began to spin upside down in a bizarre way.

All sorts of things flew past: secret rooms, castles, eerie dragons, and the viscous crimson moonlight. Her vision kept rising and rising, but the scene that entered her eyes at the last moment seemed to be imprinted deep in her retina, lingering for a long time—she could see clearly that the woman's eyeballs had been gouged out alive, leaving only a pair of empty, still bleeding eye sockets.

"...Where do you want to go?"

Her vision shifted; in her perception, everything around her was spinning like a top, and in the distance, she seemed to hear someone speaking. She tried to focus her consciousness but failed. Then another person spoke a few words, their tone tinged with guilt. The bloodied woman's face still flickered before her eyes, a gruesome and terrifying sight, constantly disturbing her mind, but for a moment she couldn't make out what they were saying.

"You two should have been together. Did you not know beforehand that she would turn out like this?"

"know."

"That's good. Although I don't know the specific reason, as mentioned earlier, this bowstring is made from the sinew of a magical beast. Perhaps... that magical beast somehow formed a connection with the little girl, which caused her to suddenly become like this."

"In that case... will Fina recover if this connection is severed?"

"I'm not a magician. Even if I guarantee it, would you believe me?" The old but bold voice laughed twice and said, "Try it. Every time this bow is drawn, the power of the magical beast will weaken. My limit is three times. My son can barely draw it once. If that's not enough, then we'll see how skilled you are."

"it is good."

"As for your partner... Perswa, you go with him and bring the other guy back. If he tries anything funny on the way, or if anything goes wrong, kill his whole family! No matter how big the problem, your dad's got your back—"

"Father...don't keep saying things like 'killing the whole family.' It's not good."

"It's just something I talk about, I'm not going to actually do it!"

“That’s even more wrong.” The boy said matter-of-factly, “A knight should keep his promise; that’s what you taught me since I was a child.”

"...Ugh, so annoying! Go on, go on! Just like your mother, you gave birth to a blockhead, not inheriting any of my good qualities at all... Little girl, your name is Lily, right? Good name. Come on, get ready, let's begin!"

As soon as the words were spoken, a sickeningly sharp sound of a bowstring being drawn rang out. At the same time, Guinevere felt a sudden sense of relief as the sound rang out. For a while afterward, no one spoke, only the occasional trembling of a bowstring. With each trembling sound, something invisible gradually receded into the distance, and the swirling scenery around her and the figure in front of her gradually became clearer.

……

Night fell.

He couldn't remember how many times he had drawn this massive, black bow with all his might. Only when he released his fingers and heard the crisp sound of the bowstring snapping back echoed did he silently count to one in his mind. Except for spearmanship, which he hadn't learned due to Merlin's instructions, Hector hadn't held back any of the combat skills a knight should possess—horse riding, swordsmanship, shield bashing, archery, and so on. In fact, one could say he had taught it with more care than he would his own son. But this bow was unlike any he had ever handled before.

The mere touch of her fingertips to the bowstring triggered a series of strange murmurs in her mind. Trying to decipher their meaning immediately caused a splitting headache and intense dizziness. Why, then, did Fina—Guinevere—react so strongly even though Lily knew her identity and real name, still using her most familiar nickname when pondering it? Even without touching the bowstring.

Could it be…? Based on the magical knowledge she learned from Merlin, she vaguely had a guess. Perhaps it was because the two had just exchanged magic, and the magic from each other had not yet been fully digested. Therefore, when she touched the bowstring, she was affected, and Guinevere was also affected. However, what was puzzling was why she had transformed into a dragon again… The bowstring was pulled back and then snapped back. Sweat dripped not only from her forehead but also from her entire body, almost soaking her through. Seeing that the half-dragon girl in front of her was indeed gradually improving, she felt relieved and began to think about the reasons behind it.

The material of the bowstring, the origin of the monsters... and the phenomenon of evil dragons.

Could the monster the old man spoke of be related to the nightmare monster Terena had once tried to summon? Thinking of this possibility, Lily frowned. But just then, a few steps away, Guinevere suddenly let out a low roar.

The horns on her head, the wings on her back, and the scales all over her body transformed from solid to ethereal with that low roar, turning into billowing black smoke that enveloped her entire body. The next moment, the smoke dissipated, and her figure returned to its usual appearance.

It was as if the changes just now were all an illusion. Even the wounds caused by the scales tearing through her skin had vanished without a trace. Guinevere stood there, stunned, looking down at her hands, then shaking her head, her eyes still somewhat bewildered: "I... am healed?"

Before Lily could answer, a cracking sound immediately drew the attention of all three people present.

Boom!

The bowstring of that jet-black giant bow suddenly snapped in two without anyone touching it!

Lily jerked her hand back, but it still managed to cut her, and blood seeped out. She instinctively put it in her mouth, intending to lick it a few times as usual—or, as Merlin put it, to disinfect it with saliva or something—but then, realizing where she was, her face flushed slightly, and she quickly put her hand down.

This little interlude eased the atmosphere somewhat. Guinevere looked at her right hand, opening and closing her fingers several times, finally breaking free from the illusion of the Red Moon Castle.

“I overheard your conversation… Sir, thank you.” She exhaled, thanked the old man first, then took out a bite-sized piece of flatbread from her pocket, handed it to Lily, and helped wipe her sweat. Watching their interaction, the old man smiled, then waved his hand: “No need to thank me. I caused this trouble and didn’t help at all. Take back that thank you, or I’ll lose face.”

"His style of speaking is certainly straightforward." Guinevere thought to herself, when suddenly the other person stretched out his hand: "As for this bow—" He pointed to the black bow with the broken string in Lily's hand. Her heart skipped a beat, thinking that they were going to have to pay for it, although such a request was quite reasonable. But then she heard the old man say: "—It's no wonder it broke after something like this happened. It saves me the trouble of smashing it to apologize. But your appearance just now was truly astonishing. I wasn't afraid because I've seen far stranger things. It's normal for others to be afraid."

“Regardless of your previous relationship with that caravan, after this incident, I'm afraid none of you can stay any longer. So I sent Percival—my son, Percival, the fool who just swaggered around and you followed him the whole way without even noticing—to bring your companions back from there. I reckon I've thought this through quite thoroughly, don't you think?”

The two girls exchanged a glance and nodded.

The old man smiled with satisfaction: "That's good. I've never liked beating around the bush. It's very simple. You two don't look like ordinary people. I'm about to do something very dangerous and troublesome, which could very well cost me my life."

"Does the gentleman want our help?" Guinevere asked.

“That’s right. Talking to smart people is much easier—at least much easier than catching those wild boars roaming Cornwall.” The old man’s words sounded like a compliment, but this strange analogy left Guinevere with mixed feelings: “Let me make it clear beforehand, so you won’t think I’m shameless, I’ll do the most dangerous things myself. You just need to help distract two people. And if you feel it’s dangerous, you can run away at any time. Even if you leave me to die, I won’t haunt you when I die.”

"Um...may I ask what exactly it is? If it doesn't violate social norms or harm anyone else, we'll definitely help. But if it is..."

"Don't worry! I've never done anything wrong in my life." He smiled, his long, white hair swaying, his eyes gleaming, exuding an aura as imposing as a majestic lion, intimidating to all. "It's actually very simple. I'm going to rescue someone—"

"A man who should have died long ago."

P.S.: It seems the threshold of 40 posts per night is still too high (thinking). I'll adjust it a bit next time I open recruitment. This chapter is really stuck. After thinking it over, I've decided not to go into detail. Anyway, people aren't really interested in this, so there's no need to write too much. I'll just gloss over what can be briefly and move the plot forward as quickly as possible... Remember to vote!

Chapter 85 "The King in the Rain"

Saving a damned person sounds contradictory. But the old man had initially adopted an attitude of "I won't pry into your secrets," so Guinevere didn't press for details.

Moreover, the old man had meticulously calculated the "accounts." That magic bow was no ordinary item; even if they weren't directly responsible for the broken bowstring, they were certainly involved. Yet, he didn't use this as a reason to ask them for anything—of course, if he had asked, she and Lily wouldn't have refused—but instead waved it off, simply dismissing the matter. Instead, he brought up another matter, asking his son to bring Nemia over—a relatively minor favor—and casually demanded their help. His seemingly magnanimous words and actions, his subtle back and forth, revealed an attitude that valued his living companions more than inanimate objects. Whether this was intentional on the old man's part or simply due to his nature, it won Guinevere's favor.

“If that’s the case, we…” She exchanged a glance with Lily and said, “We have no objections. We just don’t know exactly how we can help?”

Well...

The old man hesitated for the first time. He thought for a moment and said, "It's a complicated matter. Let me start by explaining why I don't allow others to pass through here."

This was indeed Guinevere's question.

If it were a lord or nobleman ruling this area, setting up checkpoints to restrict entry and exit for whatever reason, that would be one thing. But the old man was accompanied only by his son, with no soldiers in sight. Even the style of the old man's tent suggested that his identity was not simple, and he might even be a king of some country. The problem was that there were far more than thirty or fifty people who could be called kings on the island of Britain at this time. If we also included those who called themselves kings but were not recognized, the number might exceed one hundred. A king is certainly honorable, but that alone is not enough to allow one to act arbitrarily on another's territory.

Guinevere once heard a story from Leo Doggran.

That was decades ago, before Scotland was unified. A king, acting on his own initiative, sent men across the border to arrest a criminal, incurring the wrath of a neighboring country. The dispute escalated from verbal conflict to armed battle, lasting for several years on and off. Both relatively powerful nations declined as a result, eventually being annexed by a smaller kingdom. The ultimate victor, it is said, was the former King of Scotland, her grandfather. Leo Doggran told her this story partly to illustrate a principle similar to "when two birds fight, a third party benefits," and partly to remind her to be mindful of her status and to be cautious in her words and actions to avoid bringing trouble upon herself and the Kingdom of Scotland.

After all, Scotland under the rule of the two kings had always maintained a relatively neutral stance. Although in recent years, the elder brother Pat may have been influenced by his confidants and had begun to clearly favor the British king, including openly saying things like "Our country should ally with Vortigern," he has not yet received a positive response from the King of Scotland.

Thinking of this, the girl felt a pang of guilt. Not to mention that she was now teaming up with King Arthur, clearly standing on the opposing side of Vortigern, if news of her previous interference in Cornwall were to get back, she didn't know how angry her father would be... he would probably grab something to kill her.

She sighed silently. She'd been thinking of returning to Scotland after being away for so long, but now, just to be on the safe side, she'd write back later to let them know she was safe, and then stay away for another three to five months, giving her family some time to calm down. Anyway… she was, after all, a little prophet, quite confident in the future's trajectory. It was a sure-fire deal; she could atone for her mistakes, and she figured her father wouldn't be angry, and might even praise her for it.

She often found herself unconsciously lost in her own thoughts, a habit she carried over from her past life. Her mind raced, and various ideas surged within her. In the blink of an eye, she shook her head, bringing her attention back to reality, just in time to hear the old man say, "You should know that north of here, beyond the town of Plymouth, lies the territory of 'Fisherman King' Pelles."

"Yes."

Hearing this name, which had been frequently mentioned recently, the girl suddenly recalled the illusion she had just witnessed—the seemingly imprisoned, mad old man who bore a striking resemblance to the person before her. A baseless, absurd thought suddenly arose in her mind: could it be…

“Then you should also know that Peres has been missing since his battle with the sea monster thirty years ago, and has not appeared in public since.” The old man paused. “I am Perinoa, son of Penom, King of the Islands. And Peres is my elder brother.”

Sure enough.

Guinevere thought to herself.

Even before she learned that the man's son was named Percival, she had a rough idea of ​​the old man's identity.

Percival, the renowned Knight of the Round Table and one of the later Grail Trio, searched for the Grail alongside Galahad and Bose, but ultimately missed it. However, in some other stories, it was Percival, not Galahad, who obtained the Grail. She did recall that in the most famous Arthurian legend, Percival and Lanmalok were both sons of King Perinoa, and their father had known King Arthur even earlier.

Moreover, King Perinoa plays a very important role in the legend and is quite well-known.

Because it was during his duel with King Arthur that the sword in the stone broke. The reasons are varied; some say it broke because King Arthur violated chivalry, but in the most famous book, it seems it was simply because the sword was of poor quality and broke after only a few blows…

Although she wasn't quite sure why Artoria later switched her weapon to Excalibur on the moon, she figured it must be related to this old man.

But the sword in the stone has long since broken into a pile of fragments...

Guinevere reached out and touched the small pouch hanging from her waist, a sudden wave of unease washing over her. Looking to her side, she saw Lily also feigning surprise, covering her mouth with her hand: "Ah, so you are......"

“Haha, that’s right, I’m that once-in-a-century unlucky king.” Perinoa laughed heartily, and Guinevere then remembered another amusing anecdote about the old king—of course, for the person involved, this might have been a very tragic experience.

Just as Perinoa had just proclaimed himself King of the Islands, his father, King Penom, was a hero of his time. Before Uther, Leodogran, and others rose to fame, he had almost unified most of the southern territories. Nominally, these territories still belonged to Rome, but even the governor at the time treated him with great respect and deference.

Before his death, Penom divided his territory into three parts: the eastern part was given to Alan, the central and western parts to Pelles, and the dozen or so small islands off the mainland were left to Perinoa. In terms of territory alone, Perinoa even surpassed the other two.

Some say that the wise old king may have foreseen the future invasion of the Saxons by sea, and deliberately entrusted the task of resisting the foreign enemy to Perinoa, the most valiant and skilled of his sons.

But as the saying goes, man proposes, God disposes. Thirty years ago, when Pelees used the trident of Poseidon to fight the sea monster, these islands were affected, either swallowed by the waves or directly shattered into pieces by the aftershocks of the battle.

Although all the island's inhabitants had been evacuated to the mainland beforehand without any casualties, and the Fisherman King had properly taken care of the refugees who had lost their homes after the battle, Perinoa lost all of his territory as a result.

He himself seemed not to care much about this and rejected the Fisherman King's offer to give him half of his land, thus becoming known as the "Rainy King"—a nickname that mocked him for not having his own castle and having no roof over his head when it rained.

P.S.: Beep beep beep beep—World line jump, human order repair, World line 35715844862441266 repair complete, about to return—Warning, warning, memories related to the title of Chapter 84 have not been completely erased, which may cause that world line to awaken time-space jump technology ahead of schedule, warning, warning—

Chapter 86 An Unprecedented Knight Conferment