Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

Who is truly more rude? Your Majesty?

Jeanne Alter muttered to herself, no longer looking at Artoria, and buried her head in cleaning the abrasions on her thigh. Her right knuckles were a little difficult to bend and straighten because of the bandage.

Previously, she and His Majesty the King had impulsively visited the most famous bar in the area, the Golden Deer.

Unfortunately, a few clueless guys actually tried to flirt with this violent British woman.

Annoyed by the constant harassment, the woman took down several of the men who had approached her.

Soon, the agitated Jeanne Alter also joined the battle, carrying a table leg.

However, due to a moment of carelessness, the two of them went a little too far and almost overturned half of the bar.

As a result, the bar owner was lured out.

The two sides disagreed and got into another fight.

Jeanne Alter, in terms of her Spirit Origin alone, considers herself one of the best Servants. However, the tactic of overwhelming numbers has its own advantages. Although she successfully escaped, she still couldn't avoid some minor injuries.

In this area far from the gun tower, her magic power was ultimately limited. The Dragon Witch didn't want to waste resources on such minor wounds, so she simply let them fend for themselves like a human.

The weapon in Artoria's hand automatically turned into dust and disappeared the moment she entered the store. Jeanne Alter felt her gaze linger on her briefly, and her black shoes soon left her vigilance range, moving to the edge of the back shelf as if nothing had happened.

Although they are temporarily on the same side, due to their incompatible personalities, this small convenience store belongs to their designated neutral zone, and they even fought over who should take over the jurisdiction.

In the end, Artoria kicked down the charred railing and said, "Let's leave this place neutral; we won't interfere with each other."

The convenience store's original owner had long been kidnapped by a monster from who-knows-where, and a patch of dark brown bloodstains remained on the corner of the checkout counter.

In unclaimed spaces, things are naturally taken on a first-come, first-served basis.

The short-haired woman had the air of a cuckoo taking over someone else's place. The wound on her knee was barely covered by a crooked bandage, which was irritating to look at, so she spoke up irritably:

"Why are you here again?"

Without looking up, Artoria seemed genuinely comparing the expiration dates of the two cans of food in her hand: "The Second Prince's dog food is finished."

"Can't you buy it somewhere else?" The witch rolled her eyes and stuffed the used bottles and jars back onto the emergency supplies shelf beside her. "Do you always come all this way to me just to cause trouble?"

The woman behind the shelf finally gave her an impatient look. Black Jeanne felt inexplicably guilty under her gaze from those golden eyes and involuntarily raised her chin: What are you looking at, shorty, cold-blooded woman, Englishman, ptooey.

"I come every time, and you're always here too." Artoria found it amusing but didn't bother to disturb her carefully constructed wicked facade. She then lowered her head again and tossed the two cans of food into the brown paper bag in her arms, a screeching sound of metal scraping against each other echoing from the bottom of the bag.

Jeanne Alter saw her turn her back and walk to another shelf. Her light golden hair was neatly tied back with a black ribbon. Unlike her usual elaborate and dignified updo and armor, her neutral modern outfit gave her a rather handsome look.

Her thoughts drifted from those long, straight, white legs to the other person's almost transparent nape of the neck, and then she saw Artoria casually reach out and take a can of soda from the shelf, tearing off the tab without even looking at it.

"Hey!" The Dragon Witch slapped the counter next to her leg in annoyance. "Are you a pervert? Don't think this is your own home!"

“I am the king,” Artoria answered confidently.

The sarcastic words that were on the tip of her tongue were swallowed back by someone else. The fake saint turned her face away angrily, swinging her legs back and forth irritably over the edge of the counter.

Well, an unloved king and a despised witch, we're a match made in heaven.

She complained softly, but was immediately disgusted by her own thoughts as soon as they left her mouth.

Whether Artoria genuinely didn't hear or was pretending not to, she remained with her back to Artoria, focused on devouring the junk food on the shelves. In the ensuing silence, Artoria suddenly spoke.

"Don't rush forward so much next time, your swordsmanship is terrible."

"so what?"

The Dragon Witch raised her face disdainfully, her short, silvery-white hair shining brightly under the flickering fluorescent lights above her.

"I'll burn as many of those demons outside as they come; they're a bunch of useless trash."

"I just felt you should know this fact."

Artoria's tone was indifferent, but Artoria could detect a hint of mockery in her voice: after all, the village girl knew nothing but arson.

"Do you want to be burned alive?!"

Joan of Arc made a rude gesture toward her retreating figure, and a wisp of fire, as if to confirm her threat, arrogantly leaped from her fingertip.

Knight Wang shrugged indifferently and stuffed the last bag of original flavor potato chips into her paper bag. With her soda empty, she tossed it into the corner trash can without looking back.

"gone."

She finally turned around and happened to see the witch strutting around. For a moment, Jeanne Alter felt that the stern-faced King of Knights smiled at her, but he quickly returned to his usual handsome but annoying poker face.

"Wait," the witch called out to her.

"What are you doing, want to fight?" His Majesty the King narrowed his eyes.

Who knew that the other person simply changed the position of the outstretched hand so that the palm was facing upwards. Black Jeanne tilted her head at her with a cunning look, and when she smiled, she nonchalantly revealed a small, pointed canine tooth.

"Pay money. Even the king has to pay money when he buys things at a convenience store."

Artoria raised an eyebrow at her: "French equality?"

"Why worry about all that? Will you give it to me or not?" the witch said gloatingly, deliberately waving her finger, which was wrapped in a rough bandage, in front of her.

His Majesty the King's answer was to grab the waving little hand.

What are you doing? Do you really want to fight? The witch couldn't contain her eagerness and almost conjured up her full armor from thin air.

But Artoria simply took her hand.

The British tyrant bent down before her, his right hand gently resting on the wound on the back of her finger.

In an instant, a warm magic surged through their touching skin, and the cold-blooded knight king glanced at her lightly during the brief moment, as if the flickering light bulb above his head had fallen into her eyes again.

"keep the change."

Artoria released her and pushed open the convenience store door without looking back. The cold wind from the street rushed in, causing a corner of her black coat to flutter.

Alter Jeanne was left staring dumbfounded at her departing figure, the warmth still lingering where she had brushed past, leaving one wondering what to think:

The wound on the back of my finger has healed.

"Ah!"

As the two stepped out of the convenience store and got on the motorcycle, a cold wind blew against their faces, causing Black Jeanne to sneeze and mutter under her breath.

"Hey, Assault Girl, I feel weird today. It's like something bad is about to happen."

"You weren't scared out of your wits by those drunkards, were you?"

Artoria rolled her eyes at Jeanne Alter, her gaze filled with disdain.

But as soon as he opened his mouth, his nose started to itch for no reason, and a loud sneeze echoed down the street.

"Ah!"

Could it be that something unexpected has really happened?

Artoria looked puzzled, gazing at the distant tower and muttering to herself.

Or perhaps we could contact the General?

——————————Plot Break————————

The deep night sky was tinged with blood by the firelight.

The cries of agony and howls echoed through the sea of ​​fire, expressing fear and resentment.

Various bizarre-looking and strangely shaped beings roam this apocalyptic scene, annihilating innocent lives and stealing precious treasures.

They were not thugs wandering the alleys, nor bandits dwelling in the mountains, nor barbaric and unreasonable soldiers of an enemy country.

They are ghosts.

A faint aroma of sake wafted through the blood-soaked air. Shuten-dōji, holding a sake dish in one hand and his sake jug in the other, watched the chaos unfold like a spectator, then smiled with delight, as if he had just enjoyed a good show, and downed his sake in one gulp.

"Then, I'll go and have some fun too."

On a cliff not far away, Ibaraki-dōji, the leader of Mount Ōe, stared intently at the purple figure.

She charged toward the massive number of soldiers who had just poured into the city gate, creating a monstrous wave of blood amidst the thousands of troops.

Without even listening, she knew that Shuten-dōji must be laughing right now, laughing with pleasure, laughing with ecstasy.

The once orderly army crumbled in just a few dozen seconds, with cries and pleas for mercy rising and falling. However, the girl-like Shuten-dōji was not as gentle as a girl. Her huge blade fell on one soldier after another without saying a word, splattering blood flowers one after another.

"Hehehehehehehehehe."

Smiling, Shuten-dōji stepped over corpses, creating new ones as well. Blood splattered on her face, painting an unusual color.

That's a demon—

All the surviving soldiers believed this.

The laughter was like a devil's whisper, the swung giant blade was like a devil's claws, and the excitement in his eyes was the joy that belonged only to a devil.

The girl who was reaping their lives was merely playing.

"How wonderful... Shuten-dōji."

Without realizing it, Ibaraki uttered these words.

As the leader of Mount Ooe, she cannot kill indiscriminately or be happy at will; she has to be responsible for the entire Mount Ooe.

Just as she is doing now.

"Halt! I am Ibaraki-dōji, the leader of Mount Ōe. Humans, let me taste your blood!"

She jumped off the cliff and stopped a team of only a few dozen people, but on that team's flag, the character "源" (Yuan) was fluttering in the wind.

"The most formidable enemy is naturally one that I will defeat!"

After night comes daylight, but the ravaged city has not recovered under the sunlight. The cries of people and the pain of losing loved ones still echo. The city's supplies have been looted, leaving only despair.

But that's how ghosts live.

Boxes of supplies were transported into the warehouse of Mount Ooe. The ghosts divided the supplies into categories, distributing daily necessities and taking out all the alcohol to serve as drinks for the daily banquets.

They have once again triumphed over humanity, and once again shown people what fear truly is.

At the banquet of demons, Ibaraki, as usual, laughed and drank, arguing and bickering with the demons. Amidst the constant noise of the banquet, only Shuten-dōji slowly savored his sake.

Ibaraki glanced at Shuten occasionally, wanting to say something but unable to utter a word.

"Does Ibaraki have anything to say?"

Ibaraki didn't say anything, but Shuten could tell, so he put down his wine dish and asked Ibaraki with a smile.

"No...no! As long as Shuten drinks well...that's fine."

Ibaraki blushed and denied it.

How can I even bring myself to say I envy Shuten-dōji...

"Sob, even Ibaraki won't confide in me anymore."

"No!! I just... I just..."

I just want to go to the battlefield with you, to drink quietly like you, and I want to... live freely.

"Then let's do it."

"Um"

"Following your own heart is the true way for a demon to live, Ibaraki."

"But……"

"If it's not possible now, then it will be later. It will definitely be possible somewhere." Shuten picked up his wine dish, took a small sip, and then continued, "For now, just keep dreaming about me."

An indescribable feeling welled up in Ibaraki's heart. It wasn't excitement or disappointment, but a feeling called anticipation, anticipation for the future...

"Ok!"

It must be possible... somewhere...

Inside the cave, a pair of eyes, filled with intoxication, slowly opened, and instinctively wanted to pick up a wine bowl and drink.

However, as his gaze fell upon the empty table opposite him, the black-haired girl with half-undressed clothes and two horns silently poured a full bowl of wine onto the ground.

"Following one's own heart is the true way for a ghost to survive..."

The demon girl chuckled softly and casually tossed the empty bowl to the ground.

With the crisp sound of the earthenware bowl shattering, the figure stepped out of the cave and looked at the large, blue-skinned, one-horned demon outside the door with a cold and sharp gaze.

"Feng Yue Wan, take me to see the goddess!"