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

If all goes well.

Having decided to help, as a Scottish princess, even if she couldn't meet the Fisher King in person immediately, she could still visit the Fisher siblings with dignity. Recalling Merlin's mention in the Cornish town that she should visit the Fisher King in her true identity, perhaps this was what he meant. It's not surprising that the female magician, with her prophetic abilities, foresaw this event. But why did she specifically have Lily dressed as a woman? Was it truly just to mislead others and prevent them from associating Lily with Artoria—King Arthur?

Guinevere always felt that things weren't that simple.

But thinking that even if Merlin had something he was hiding and hadn't told her, he wouldn't hurt Artoria. At most, she would just accidentally get caught in the crossfire. As long as she was careful enough, she shouldn't suffer any losses. With this in mind, she suppressed the thought after it only briefly crossed her mind.

He then revealed his name and said he had a past with Kay and wanted to check on him out of concern. He quickly gained the others' approval. The old man even asked Percival to bring him paper and pen, and with a flourish, he wrote an incredibly simple letter, handed it to Guinevere, and assured her, "If those two refuse to see you, show them this! They'll come out immediately!"

Although it was called a letter, it was actually just a piece of paper without an envelope, so others could see the contents of the paper.

"It's too messy, I can't understand it..." Lily muttered softly in a voice that the old man wouldn't hear.

In the fifteen years since her birth, almost all the written texts she has had the opportunity to come into contact with have come from Hector, Kay, and Merlin. Hector is a very meticulous person, and his handwriting reflects his personality, exuding a dignified aura. Kay's handwriting is elegant and unrestrained, but the edges still reveal a bit of sharpness. As for Merlin... Merlin's handwriting changes almost every day, never repeating itself, and no one knows how she manages to do it.

As for the people I knew in other towns.

The vast majority of them are illiterate, let alone have any handwriting.

It's really asking too much of a pure young girl like her, who has been exposed to such things for a long time and thought that Kay's handwriting was the worst in the world, to suddenly understand Perinoa's incredibly wild handwriting.

"can't read."

"Me too."

"Ah."

The three Henwas brothers were completely illiterate, which spared them the trouble of deciphering the words. After Percival brought over the paper and pen, he kept whispering to Nemia, and it was unclear what they were saying. Because she was always being called "Dad," over time, Guinevere had unconsciously begun to consider herself a "good dad" in front of Nemia. A good parent wouldn't eavesdrop on what two children were talking about.

She suppressed her curiosity and looked at the paper in her hand with mixed feelings.

This handwriting is so familiar.

Back then, she left all her summer homework until the first day of school. When she went to school in the morning to frantically copy it, her pen flew across the paper, and what she wrote was this unrestrained and wild cursive script, as if she regarded all the rules of the world as nothing.

Her high school English teacher once commented that her handwriting resembled a field of radishes after a typhoon. But Perinoa clearly went even further, believing it would take at least a dozen nuclear bombs to blast out the radishes depicted on that piece of paper…

But Guinevere was perhaps the only one present besides the old man himself who could decipher the handwriting on the paper.

Just one sentence.

"If you don't see him, you'll get a beating!"

"..."

Let's just pretend we didn't understand it.

"...I will keep it safe."

She carefully folded the paper, put it away, and secretly decided that unless there was absolutely no other way, she should try not to take it out.

Let's give Princess Elaine some face...

P.S.: Please recommend and vote with monthly tickets!

Chapter Ninety-One Infiltration Operation

As the long night drew to a close, the road stretched out under the fading moonlight, and the thunderous barking of dogs gradually subsided and became inaudible with each step.

Instead, a cold wind swept in, carrying the crisp air unique to this season. Guinevere gathered her wind-blown hair and stood on the edge of a cliff, gazing down at the small town that blended into the night.

The sound of rustling footsteps approached, and then a girl in a white dress stood beside her: "It's so quiet."

"I originally thought that a stronghold like Plymouth, where many travelers and merchants gather, would be even more lively at night... Speaking of which, although I haven't asked, Lily, since you are Merlin's student, you should know more about King Arthur than most people, right?"

She turned her head and looked with great interest at the girl in the white dress who had an indescribable expression on her face. She guessed that the girl was probably racking her brains about how to answer without revealing her identity.

Lately, teasing Lily from time to time, watching her make a troubled expression and then secretly laughing to herself, has become one of Guinevere's pleasures. But bringing up this sentence now is more about giving the other person a suitable reason to participate in the topic.

Sure enough, after a slight pause, Lily seemed to realize what was going on and replied, "That's true. I often hear Merlin talk about these two... especially Sir Kay." After thinking for a moment, she added a sentence, trying to steer the conversation away from King Arthur—herself.

Guinevere pretended not to notice her little scheme and nodded: "I met them not long ago, but I didn't expect that Sir Kay would actually come to this place."

"Given Sir Kai's age, it's indeed about time he went out to travel and broaden his horizons. Especially considering his meddlesome nature... Oh, I heard that from Merlin."

"So... Lily, do you think Sir Kay can persuade Princess Elaine to lend the Trident of Poseidon, as he promised?"

Lily hesitated slightly before answering the question: "To be honest, I don't know."

Having spent over a decade together, she naturally knew how capable her sworn brother was. In terms of martial prowess alone, Kai's level was only so-so. He could easily bully second- or third-rate knights, or single-handedly defeat a dozen or twenty untrained soldiers.

But once you face a master.

Kai then has little chance of winning.

Or rather, what truly made him more formidable was not his swordsmanship, nor his spear skills or horsemanship, but his silver tongue, capable of eloquently bringing the dead back to life and driving the living to their deaths.

In the Arthurian legends Guinevere had read in her previous life, this fellow had once used his words to trick a ferocious and cruel giant into obediently extending his neck to have his head cut off. Even if she couldn't completely apply the legends from her past life to the characters in this world, based on what she saw so far, Sir Kay's image didn't seem to be too different from what she remembered.

Therefore, while Guinevere didn't trust Lily as much as she did the future Knight of the Round Table, she still held a certain expectation that Kai could persuade Princess Elaine. However, as the proverb goes, don't put all your eggs in one basket; even with expectations for the other's success, she couldn't remain completely inactive. After discussion, Perinoa decided to stay put and continue intercepting passersby to avoid any unforeseen complications.

As for the three hunter brothers, they also stayed behind. One reason was that Henwas was injured, but more importantly, they were responsible for informing the others of Perinoa's identity. Otherwise, given the old man's personality, no one could guarantee that he wouldn't do something like before, concealing his name and deliberately provoking others just to have a good fight.

Considering this, the presence of the three brothers can be considered a safety net. Moreover, their father is an experienced old merchant, and merchants are best at verbal negotiation. With the help of the caravan members to explain and persuade, there shouldn't be any disturbance or dispute in the short term.

Meanwhile, Guinevere and Lily went to the town of Plymouth to check on the situation.

According to Perinoa, the Fisher siblings had informants in the town who could contact the two men, and what to do after making contact is self-evident.

Confirm Kai's situation and offer assistance if necessary. At the same time, do everything possible to persuade—or use slightly more forceful methods—to get him to agree to lend the Trident of Poseidon.

"Fina...Fina?"

The voice beside her pulled Guinevere back to reality. She turned her head: "What's wrong?" Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the first light of dawn on the eastern horizon, and the rest of her sentence lingered on her tongue: "...Oh, it's getting light."

Their plan was to sneak in before dawn, when the town was just waking up. In theory, it didn't need to be so complicated, but Perinoa's two-week-long vigil at the crossroads, preventing anyone from passing, had already caused quite a stir and everyone knew about it. If the two of them simply walked in, they would likely attract a crowd immediately, making everything inconvenient…

"Are you ready?"

"alright."

After receiving Lily's uncertain answer, Guinevere reached out and grasped the other's left wrist: "It might be a little exciting later... try not to scream."

“I’ll try my best,” Lily said earnestly.

Guinevere smiled: "Actually, we're not worried about you or me, but thankfully Nemia didn't insist on coming with us, otherwise I really can't guarantee she wouldn't scream and get discovered... I don't know why, but she and that boy named Percival seem to get along particularly well..."

"That sounds a bit sarcastic."

“It seems that’s true.” After saying that, Guinevere shook her head and laughed first. “Maybe I’ve been called ‘Dad’ a lot, and I really treat her like my own child. I even want to interfere with her freedom to make friends. I need to reflect on myself, reflect on myself…” She said half-jokingly, but her eyes were fixed on the town below. It was still dark, the wind was still cold, and people were gradually appearing on the streets.

Despite the great distance, the wind carried the conversations of those people clearly to her ears, picking out any potentially useful information: where the inn was, where the food and wine vendors were, where the mercenaries and adventurers were gathered, and where the town's residents were. As she pieced it together, a rough map of the area began to form in her mind.

The bright moon sets in the west, and the sky turns from dark to bright.

The first golden ray of sunlight shone down through the clouds.

"Now." Seizing the opportunity, Guinevere took a deep breath and reminded everyone, "Get ready, don't bite your tongue—" There was no response, but she tightened her grip slightly, as if to indicate that she was ready.

She took a step forward.

This was the edge of a cliff, with nothing in front of her. With one step, her body immediately plummeted downwards. But at the same time, Guinevere suddenly waved her hand, and the Wind Mark shone brightly. The surrounding wind swirled and transformed into a pair of pale blue wings, which suddenly unfolded behind her. With a gentle flap, the force of her fall was immediately reduced.

Even though she couldn't actually fly yet, after dozens of crashes that left her bruised and battered, performing some clever tricks during her descent was no longer a challenge for Guinevere. She held onto Lily's wrist to keep it from separating, occasionally flapping her wind wings to adjust the angle and direction of her descent, avoiding wide-open views, and descending as inconspicuously as possible towards the town at the foot of the mountain…

****

The sun has risen.

It was a bright and sunny day. The town had awakened from its slumber, and the streets were bustling with people, a constant flow of noise, a scene unique to the everyday life of the town.

The aroma of food filled the air, and in a hotel on the west side of the town that has been open all night, the air was filled not only with the smell of food, but also with a strong, lingering smell of alcohol.

"Alright, alright, get out of here! I need to entertain some proper guests now!"

The dilapidated wooden door, which looked like it could collapse at any moment, creaked open and was forcefully kicked open—as if it had been kicked open with one foot. Then, a tall, shirtless figure appeared behind the door, carrying two drunken men in each hand. While talking, he casually threw the two men out onto the street like sacks, splashing sewage everywhere.

After landing, the two drunkards rolled around several times like gourds before swaying and grabbing onto something nearby to steady themselves. Despite being treated so roughly, they showed no anger whatsoever, instead maintaining a smirking expression. "Hehe, I think it's not us who's drunk, it's you, boss. What respectable customers do you have here?"

The man snorted but did not refute. His gaze swept across the street, which was practically synonymous with filth and chaos. Buildings were half-built everywhere, sewage flowed freely, and in corners where even the morning sun could not reach, several emaciated beggars lay motionless, whether asleep or already dead, it was unclear.

Not far away at the street corner, a minor argument was escalating. One of the men angrily drew a dagger, but it was snatched away by the other man, who swiftly stabbed him in the back of the hand. Blood gushed out as the dagger was pulled out. The man clutched his left hand and turned to run, but he was surrounded by the others after only a few steps. They punched and kicked him, and the screams and cries of pain rang out for a moment before fading away.

"Then we'll come back tonight—"

Seemingly oblivious to the argument a few steps away, or perhaps accustomed to such things, both the shop owner and the two drunkards merely glanced indifferently before looking away and paying no further attention.

After one of the drunkards finished speaking, the other waved with a smile and said, "Let's drink together again tonight!"

"Get out! I don't offer you scoundrels any wine here! Don't interfere with my business, get out of here! If you stay in front of the door, no other customers will dare to come in!"

The two men exchanged a few more words with smiles, then turned and staggered away. The man, who seemed to be the shop owner, muttered curses as he turned back to wipe the greasy handprints off the door: "I wonder which orphan dared to use my door to wipe their hands after eating. If I find out who it was, I'll grab a wild boar and smash their tusks in!"

The words have not yet fallen.

Seeing two figures approaching from the other end of the street, his eyes lit up, and he swallowed back the curse he was about to utter.

They were two young girls, both blonde and blue-eyed, of similar height, looking like close sisters. The girl walking slightly ahead had a round face and long blonde hair. Although she was dressed like a weary traveler, a distinct charm still shone through her.

The other girl walked about a step behind, her hair tied into a neat ponytail. She wore a simple yet well-fitting snow-white dress, with only a few pieces of armor covering her key areas. She also had a sharp sword at her waist, making her look like a noble guard. However, no matter how you looked at it, this outfit seemed more decorative than practical, making one wonder if it would actually be useful in a real battle.

However, the guards of those nobles, especially the female guards, were not usually responsible for going to the battlefield.

A somewhat lewd thought flashed through the shopkeeper's mind. He chuckled and was trying to guess the two girls' identities when two girls walked over from one end of the street and stumbled upon the scene of the argument that had escalated into a fight. The girl in front exclaimed, "What... what are you doing? Stop right there!"

The sweet, soft voice, even when it sounded like an angry shout, still carried little intimidation. The man who had just snatched the dagger, leaving a bloody hole in the other's hand, grabbed the blood-covered man's hair and yanked him up from the ground. His other hand, clenched into a fist, hadn't even struck yet when he looked over impatiently: "What?" His fierce gaze swept over the two girls, then suddenly shifted to a different, more despicable emotion: "You two—"

He seemed to want to say something, but the blonde girl didn't let him finish. She looked at the fist raised in mid-air, then turned to the girl in the white dress with the sword: "Lily, is it just my imagination? Why does it feel like... this friend really wants to hit me right now?"

As she spoke, she paused, and the girl in the white dress also stopped in her tracks. She tilted her head, thought for a few seconds as if it were a serious matter, and replied, "It's probably because of what you just said."

"That sentence?" another girl blinked.

“You need to tell them to stop and stop beating the person who is lying on the ground.”

"Oh--"

Reminded of this, she seemed to finally realize something. She clapped her hands, looking enlightened. "My friend, and the others who seem to be with him, you need to understand that hitting people is wrong. As the saying goes, it's better to resolve conflicts than to let them fester. Although I don't know if you have a similar proverb here, the principle is simple, and even a wild boar would understand. So let's stop fighting, shake hands, and become friends, okay?"

"...Where did this idiot come from?"

The man with the fierce look in his eyes tossed aside the man he had beaten to the point of near death, spat to the side, and stood up, pushing himself up on his knees. "What's the point of being friends? A man and a woman, of course we should do something more interesting! A man and two women, or seven or eight men and two women, I don't mind. Hahaha—" He shrugged, took a few steps toward the two girls, and laughed twice.

The others around them also started laughing.

They derive a strange pleasure from watching the girl's face darken rapidly. The leading man was about to continue his mockery when suddenly, the girl opposite them clenched her small fist and shouted, "Lily, he's mocking me! How dare he mock me! You know, from birth until now, even my father has never openly mocked me like this—" Her voice rose higher and higher, but at the last moment, her face, which had been filled with anger, suddenly lost all expression.

As if all warmth had vanished in an instant, his indifferent and icy gaze swept over the people at the street corner one by one.

For some reason, upon meeting that icy gaze, the group felt a sinking feeling in their hearts, and the sarcastic words that were on the tip of their tongues wouldn't come out. An eerie silence descended upon the small space as they watched helplessly as the girl raised her hand, pointing at them one by one, and slowly walked towards them.

"Beat him up—"

Almost at the same time that the sweet, soft voice rang out.

boom!

With a muffled thud, the girl in the white dress made no move, as if she had only swayed slightly, and in the next instant she appeared in front of the leading man. Without drawing her sword, she simply raised her slender arm, which looked as if it could be broken with the slightest force, and "gently" pushed it against the man's chest.

The man's tall body was sent flying backward.

With a series of loud crashes, it overturned a pile of haphazardly erected timber along the way, finally crashing into a pool of foul-smelling sewage. It seemed to have landed face down, and after lying there for a few seconds, it suddenly began to struggle and cough violently again.

"you!"

"Damn-"

After a moment of stunned silence, the others also drew their weapons, attempting to attack the girl in the white dress. However, she pushed them one by one, sending them flying. The blonde girl never looked back, whether out of absolute trust in her companions or out of complete indifference. She even walked right past the blood-soaked, dying man, without giving him a single glance. The slow footsteps finally stopped in front of the stunned shopkeeper.

The girl placed her hand on her chest and bowed to him in a simple, elegant knightly salute.

But when this etiquette was performed by a girl who was only fourteen or fifteen years old, it seemed both strange and beautiful.

“I am Guinevere, daughter of King Leod Ogland of Scotland. I have urgent business to discuss with His Highness Fisher by order of the King. Please convey my message. Thank you—”

P.S.: Something came up at home, and I've been feeling really bad all day. I was thinking of taking the day off, but I gritted my teeth and kept writing from 8 PM until 5:30 AM. I finally managed to reach 5,000 words before the CD reset, securing my perfect attendance record. Please give me some more recommendation votes and monthly tickets in consideration of my all-night writing session. I haven't gotten more than 200 recommendation votes in three days... *yawn*

Chapter 92 This Princess is a Bit Reckless (Part 1)

At the entrance to the alley, a small-scale conflict was nearing its end. With a muffled thud, another person's body was sent flying into the air, crashing heavily to the ground, a scream of pain escaping as crimson blood bloomed on the ground.

Lily glanced at the seven or eight thugs who had been beaten black and blue and were now rolling on the ground groaning and begging for mercy. She shook her head, took out a handkerchief, and wiped away the few drops of blood on the back of her fist.

She had never had a good impression of people who would resort to violence over trivial matters. She had often patrolled around the town with Kai and the others to maintain order, and now they had stumbled upon a crime scene. If they had intervened even a moment later, the person being beaten might have been beaten to death. In such a situation, not drawing her sword was the greatest restraint and leniency she could muster. As for the current "miserable state" of the group...