[Drawn by the final item at the auction, you grit your teeth and joined in.]
[And then, at the final moment of the event, your worst fear came true.]
[Fairy Knight Lancelot also attended the auction.]
[Once she spotted your group across the room, she clearly showed killing intent.]
[However, likely because her abilities were being suppressed by Murian's domain, she didn't attack directly—instead, she focused on competing with you for the final item.]
...
—I originally just came to try my luck, but I never thought I'd actually run into them here.
Raising the bid once more, Fairy Lancelot glanced across the auction hall.
She had no idea what use some blueprint for something called "Hydro Sphere Linear" had... but she knew the Child of Prophecy and their group desperately wanted it.
In that case, all she had to do was keep bidding against them. Based on her previous auction experiences, Murian would likely ask both parties to step outside and settle it through combat.
If that was the case, then she'd keep bidding and take it to a duel.
[As you expected, once the price reached a hundred million Mopounds—far beyond the original valuation—the fairy host could no longer decide and requested guidance from Lord Murian.]
"Fascinating. Truly unexpected—this item has garnered far more interest than anticipated."
"In that case, I believe that acquiring it should not be solely a matter of wealth, but also of character."
"Would the final two participants please step up onto the stage?"
[Lord Murian of Gloucester invited you and Artoria to the center of the auction hall.]
[As expected, Guinevere, your loyal knight, accompanied the Child of Prophecy.]
Then, Murian's voice rang out again:
"Allow me to introduce them."
"To the left, we have the protector of Britain for over a millennium, hailed as the most beautiful and most powerful of fairies—Fairy Knight Lancelot!"
"And to the right—surely, you've heard the bell tolling from Salisbury. Yes, it is none other than Lady Artoria of Tintagel, the legendary Child of Prophecy destined to save Britain."
"Though still little known today, their names will soon resound across the land!"
As Murian spoke of the Child of Prophecy, the crowd stirred in amazement, and the room quickly heated with excitement.
"Now then, as both stand on the auction's stage, each is obligated to purchase the item. However, by my estimation, Fairy Knight Lancelot and Lady Artoria are nearly equal in both wealth and character—there is no clear superior."
"Lady Guinevere, who stands with Artoria, is a knight of exceptional skill who has followed her since the beginning of her pilgrimage. And Lancelot has safeguarded Britain for centuries as its strongest knight."
"So then—since both are knights who uphold their honor with their swords, let us determine the winner by the most traditional means: a duel of true steel!"
"After all, for a knight, only their sword bears no falsehood. It is the truest expression of their worth."
[As expected, Murian then formally invited Guinevere, the Child of Prophecy's squire, to duel.]
"I have no objections," Lancelot said coldly, her eyes fixed on Guinevere.
Sensing her murderous intent, Artoria leaned in cautiously and whispered:
"Can you win?"
"Uh…"
—Not a chance in hell.
Guinevere wanted to say it aloud. But seeing the worry in Artoria's eyes, he knew that any hesitation on his part would make her abandon the fight without a second thought.
In the end, he nodded and said:
"I'll win."
—Even though he had no clue how yet, maybe he could find her weakness by using Endless Trial to challenge her again and again.
[You activated the mark of Endless Trial and began challenging Fairy Knight Lancelot.]
[In less than three exchanges, Lancelot cleaved you in half with her Dual Blade Waltz.]
["Undying's Endless Trial" activated. You returned to the moment before the battle began, ready to challenge her again.]
[Very quickly, you were cleaved in half once more.]
[Endless Trial activated again—you prepared to face her once more.]
[...]
"Nope. This isn't working."
After being sliced in half hundreds of times, Guinevere was disgusted.
He was sick of this Lancelot who had thrown away all pretense of skill and just endlessly repeated her "Seya Slash" combo.
It was like watching a Granblue Fantasy: Relink player leave their controller on turbo and go AFK in a Lucilius raid.
This wasn't a matter of talent anymore. The sheer performance gap between dragonkind and humans was already absurd—Guinevere had overcome it once, and he believed he could do it again...
But she was straight-up using god mode now. How was he supposed to win that?
Nope. I'm out.
So, when Endless Trial rewound time once again to that moment when Artoria gently asked, "Can you win?"...
"I'll die. That's what I'll do." Guinevere said bluntly.
"Ah…"
Artoria froze for half a second, then loudly declared:
"No! We refuse!"
"…Huh?"
Murian's surprised voice rang out from above the auction hall.
"We've changed our minds," Artoria said. "If this is going to come down to a fight, then we withdraw. Let Lancelot have it."
"???"
Murian was dumbfounded.
What?! That's not how this was supposed to go!
She'd worked so hard to build up the tension, and now these two groups were just walking away? How anticlimactic was that?
"Then… in that case, with Lady Artoria withdrawing, the final item goes to Fairy Knight Lancelot—"
"Hold it!"
Another voice interrupted Murian just as she was about to declare the result.
Hearing it, Murian—watching from her private room—froze. Her face contorted with surprise.
"When did she get here?"
But regardless of her reaction, down in the hall, Baobhan Sith stood up, hands on hips, and declared:
"Are you kidding me, Murian? Everyone knows Lancelot is the strongest fairy in all of Britain! Having them fight for the item is just handing it to her! Rigging only works if you pretend not to!"
Then, without giving Murian a chance to reply, she continued:
"And honestly, I'm shocked you'd be this blatantly biased toward Lancelot. What, trying to cozy up to her because of her alliance with Woodworth? Hoping to join their camp that badly?"
"...Lady Baobhan Sith, I believe you misunderstand. I merely wished to ensure the item went to someone worthy. But you make a good point—as the strongest knight in the land, determining ownership through combat would clearly favor Lancelot. It was careless of me."
Murian wasn't happy about Baobhan Sith's rebuke, but it reminded her—Lancelot was aligned with that bastard Woodworth. Giving this obviously important blueprint to her would be strengthening the enemy.
No. Absolutely not.
Suppressing her irritation, Murian composed herself and asked:
"Then what would you suggest, Lady Baobhan Sith?"
Yes! I was right to speak up!
Baobhan Sith clenched her fist in excitement.
She hadn't planned to speak—it was just a spur-of-the-moment decision. But seeing Guinevere's desperate pursuit about to be stolen away, she couldn't stand it. Remembering the feud between Murian and Woodworth, she took a gamble.
And it paid off.
"This is an auction, isn't it? You've already confirmed both parties are qualified bidders. Then let's do this the proper way," Baobhan Sith said slowly. "Highest bidder wins. Whoever offers more money gets the item."
"As expected of Her Majesty's heir. Well said," Murian replied smoothly. "In that case, the auction shall resume. Please, continue bidding."
"…Two hundred million Mopounds!"
Lancelot, no longer interested in inching the bid upward, called out in one go.
She'd never cared much about money, but after two thousand years as a knight, even she had amassed considerable funds. And if she needed more, surely Woodworth would lend her some.
She didn't care what this blueprint did. But if Guinevere wanted it, then she would never let them have it.
"Two hundred million and one!" Artoria immediately shouted.
"You have that much money?" Lancelot snapped. "Murian! I demand a check on the Child of Prophecy's funds!"
"…Ah." Artoria faltered.
Right. She didn't even have the first hundred million—she'd just shouted it on impulse. Where was she going to get two hundred million?
"Why wouldn't she?" Baobhan Sith called out. "Check away! I've got a hundred million Mopounds. Artoria has two hundred million and one! What's the issue?!"
"Um…" Artoria whispered, "I don't have two hundred million and one. I kind of just... blurted it out…"
"...Are you stupid?"
Baobhan Sith shot her a glare, then threw her head back and shouted:
"Fine! Add my entire territory of New Darlington to the bid! I'm wagering my lordship itself! Murian, give me an estimate!"
[With Baobhan Sith adding New Darlington to the pot, Murian appraised the territory and valued it at three hundred million.]
"Who's afraid of who? You think I'm not a lord?" Lancelot snapped. "Fine! I'm adding Glasgow!"
[Not to be outdone, you also offered up your territory as a stake, but Murian only valued it at two hundred million.]
"You've got to be kidding me!"
Lancelot erupted.
"Murian! You know New Darlington's finances are in shambles! How is that worth more than my Glasgow?!"
Murian's voice echoed calmly from above:
"I'm sorry, Lancelot. This isn't personal. But Glasgow, being Britain's main prison and located in the rugged lake district, is difficult terrain. I simply can't value it higher."
[In the end, both sides had around four hundred million in total assets. But the Child of Prophecy managed to scrape together another million Mopounds. So you lost.]
[You could not accept the outcome.]
"New Darlington's finances are garbage. Why is it worth more than my Glasgow…? Fine. Murian, you asked for this!"
[You stormed out of the auction hall.]
[Then, using the Wind Clan messenger stationed in Gloucester, you sent word to Woodworth.]
[You requested that Woodworth accelerate his plans to attack Gloucester—ideally, to have troops at its gates within the day.]