Guinevere vs Artoria

The great blade and the longsword clashed violently in midair, metal ringing sharply as the fierce gust of wind swept aside nearby furniture.

"Banwen, fall back!"

Seeing Rudra poised to pursue again, Guinevere barked, his eyes also tracking Rudra's next raised strike. That angle... it's a downward slash!

Guinevere abruptly abandoned close-quarters tactics and leapt aside, evading the whistling blade. At the same time, he stamped out with his foot onto Rudra's wrist, halting its follow-up attack, and then thrust a knee strike heavily into Rudra's face.

Rudra's head snapped from the brutal knee, and Guinevere seized the opportunity to bring his greatsword down. Yet unknown to the others, Guinevere had altered the strike: instead of the edge, he struck with the flat of the blade. Even so, this attack initially failed to land—at that critical moment, a magic bomb was hurled into his path. A column of magical energy followed from the side, propelling the bomb toward Guinevere.

Guinevere's eyes widened: at this distance, being hit by a magic bomb would severely cripple his fighting capacity. Although the explosion would also impact Rudra, the bomb's trajectory had placed Guinevere's body between the blast and Rudra. If it detonated there, the threat to Guinevere would be far greater—but the response was decisive: better to let Rudra bear the blast alone. After all, Rudra's tough hide could endure it better than Guinevere taking a direct hit.

At the crucial moment, Guinevere's earlier choice to switch from a slicing blow to a blunt strike paid off: he adjusted the flat-blade hit's trajectory just enough to slam the magic bomb into Rudra's face, while kicking Rudra's chest to quickly create distance. With a thunderous roar, Rudra staggered backward two paces, dazed and disheveled.

"Artoria, what are you doing? That was aimed at our own side!" Rudra protested.

"Shut up, you fool—thanks to you, everything's been messed up!" Oberon now cursed angrily. But it was too late: battle had erupted, and with the cry of "Bold!" the two Queen's Knights who had been on guard sprang into the fray.

In the blink of an eye, Guinevere's makeshift quarters became a storm of blades and steel.

[Because Rudra's interference shattered any hope of negotiation, you have engaged in combat with the Prophecy Child and her party.]

—Artoria has grown stronger. From the very first exchange, Guinevere perceived it clearly. Though her raw magic power hadn't increased, her decision-making and reaction speed in combat were sharper than in previous simulations. Her skill combinations were more sophisticated: compared to their past joint battles, she now observes the overall situation and supports allies better, proactively syncing with teammates' attack rhythms rather than blindly charging ahead as before.

"Not bad," Guinevere murmured, then called to the other three: "Cover me." Without hesitation, he lunged straight at Artoria. With limited time to spar with Artoria, striking the key target first is standard tactic.

Though Oberon and the others soon realized his intention, they could not stop him. Even if they attempted to attack Guinevere under pressure from the Queen's Knights and Banwen, Guinevere—familiar with their moves—evaded easily. He tilted his head lightly to dodge Oberon's giant stinger rifle bolt, sidestepped Gawain's lance thrust, then kicked Gawain's flank, sending her stumbling toward Rudra, who hastily reined in its raised greatsword.

Yet Gawain suddenly hurled her shield at Guinevere. This unexpected move startled him; he abandoned the prime opportunity to strike Artoria and hastily raised his sword guard to deflect the flying shield, momentarily losing his balance.

—What's this? Since when does Gawain use a flying shield? She's become so decisive.

In that brief hesitation, Artoria aimed her staff at Guinevere, magical energy gathering at its tip. But with her current magic power, a direct blast might seriously injure him.

"Such naiveté." In that instant's hesitation, Guinevere regains his balance, steps to the left, and as Artoria's staff swing veers left, he shifts right, closing the distance. In one swift motion, he thrusts a hand to seize Artoria's throat and drives her against the wall.

"Ugh—"

A surge of suffocation hits Artoria; her mind blanks. She reflexively raises the staff to counter, but Guinevere smashes the staff from her wrist with the pommel: "Let go." The pain forces her to drop the staff. Now, pressed single-handedly against the wall, she gasps for breath, powerless.

"You've lost, Artoria." Guinevere leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Defeated by your own needless innocence." Then he released her throat; she slumped to the floor. He turned and called out: "Enough—stand down. The outcome is decided." As he spoke, he lifted his longsword to rest lightly against Artoria's neck.

Seeing this, Oberon sighed and raised his hands in surrender; Rudra and Gawain, who still wanted to fight, halted at the sight of the blade at Artoria's throat.

Banwen, having taken some hits earlier, now grinned: "Ha! Pitiful losers—go die—"

"Stop, Banwen. Killing them now brings us no benefit." Guinevere's calm voice cut in. Banwen, mid-gesture, pouted but obeyed, hopping over to Guinevere's side. "But Guinevere, they hurt me badly—shouldn't I kill them now in self-defense? That'd prove I'm reliable, right?"

"No, not at all." Guinevere replied coolly.

"But—"

"Banwen." Guinevere gently called her name. Banwen, about to retort, paused at his tone, pouting but falling silent.

"Cough, cough..." Artoria, still short of breath, rubbed her sore throat and could not resist a taunt: "Unexpected that the so-called 'Blood Queen' can be trained into such an obedient girl."

"You brain-dead? I'm not the Blood Queen right now," Banwen replied casually, not noticing the insult. "And being obedient to Guinevere isn't bad—if he wants me to behave, I behave."

"You—you—" The second half of that sentence struck Artoria like a blow. Especially now, it cut deep: her eyes widened, lips trembling, and even her chest heaved violently with sudden fury. Yet she could say nothing, realizing Banwen understood nothing and spoke purely from innocence—but that innocence inflicted severe emotional harm.

"Artoria..." Guinevere glanced at her with a complex look, as if wanting to say something but unable. He thought: if not for Rudra's foolhardy interference, this awkward scene would not have arisen. "Why are you calling me that name? I thought you had forgotten." But before he could gather his thoughts, Artoria turned to him, directing all her resentment at him.

"You called me 'Prophecy Child' just now—keep calling me that. I rather like it. Don't call me by name, it sounds too intimate, as if we had some bond." Guinevere fell silent. Indeed, they had long diverged; there was no place to reminisce. At most they'd spent one day together—less than time he spent with Kataly and Aster. Now things were strictly business:

"...Actually, we have no direct conflict of interest. There's no need to fight. If you promise not to obstruct our operations in Norwich, I will let you go." Guinevere said calmly.

"Ah? They attacked our people and trashed our home—let them go so lightly? We will never accept such injustice!" Banwen protested. Yet when Guinevere turned to her, she fell silent: "All right... if you say let them go, so be it. You must have your reasons... but you owe me compensation!"

"...Understood." Guinevere lightly replied, then looked at Artoria: "So, your answer?"

"...As if I had any choice," Artoria said, head bowed. Guinevere could not see her face, but heard the heavy, stubborn tone laced with unwillingness, on the verge of tears.

"...It seems we have consensus." Guinevere exhaled softly and stepped aside, indicating the exit: "You may leave now." Artoria lifted her head to look at him, but he turned away, refusing her gaze. A pang of sadness struck her. She had many questions, but after seeing Banwen's obedient demeanor before him and hearing him call her "Prophecy Child," none of those questions seemed important.

She tilted her head and said quietly: "Seems you and she get along well..." She intended a mocking sneer, but lacked the energy. Her voice sounded weak, even pitiful. Guinevere felt a slight stir, yet true to his nature, despite the provocation, he refrained from slaying her outright. Even though he had taught Banwen to eliminate threats, he held back—now Banwen was his liege. Each serves their lord; that is proper. He said nothing, merely gesturing toward the door.

Just then, a soldier stumbled in, shouting urgently: "Lord Guinevere! Disaster—The Calamity has descended! Countless Mores have poured from the sea; the dockside area has fallen!"

Guinevere's expression snapped alert. He strode to the window and looked toward the docks. On the horizon, a vast dark shape had already arrived.