"They're... already attacking?"
Staring at the coalition army forming ranks outside the city, Artoria couldn't help but widen her eyes.
Though she had always known Fairy Lancelot was ruthlessly efficient and completely devoid of moral restraint—arguably the worst loser among all players—she hadn't expected her to move this fast.
The auction only ended last night, and they're attacking this morning?
Seriously? Do your soldiers not need time to march?
"It seems the Windfang Clan's coalition had been planning to strike at Gloucester for some time now."
Accompanying Artoria to the ramparts, Murien also observed the scene, the faint smile she usually wore vanishing without a trace.
"You don't seem surprised," Guinevere asked, a little taken aback by her reaction.
"There's really nothing to be surprised about. No matter how that coalition initially formed, once such a massive alliance came together, their collective goal was to crown Woodworth as the new King of Britain, wasn't it?"
"In that case, it's only natural they'd want to eliminate any factions unwilling to submit. My Gloucester is publicly neutral to everyone, which, in a sense, means I refuse to submit to anyone—making me a thorn in their side."
"And Gloucester just so happens to sit between Salisbury and Oxford, with Sheffield of the Bogart Clan to the northeast. If they take me out, the Windfang territory would form one continuous domain, allowing them to focus on their northern opponent, Knocknarea. Strategically, it makes the most sense to strike Gloucester first."
Murien's tone was calm, almost indifferent, as though she were narrating someone else's misfortune.
"Plus, Gloucester lacks the means to resist them effectively. My domain might suppress all fae equally within its bounds, but against overwhelming numbers, that sort of trickery is meaningless."
"In short, this is a prime target—strategically located, poorly defended, and rich. Anyone with a brain would come for Gloucester first. If I were them, I'd do the same."
"Oh, truly worthy of the title 'Sage of the Fae Nation,'" Oberon clapped softly. "With your insight, I assume you've already devised a countermeasure?"
"You really give me too much credit," Murien sighed slowly. "I'd love to come up with something... but what good are my little tricks in the face of such a power gap? With Her Majesty Morgan absent, the combined strength of Woodworth and Lancelot is essentially a game-ender. If it weren't for the slight deterrent my domain poses, Lancelot probably would've already ridden in alone to crush Gloucester."
"The only countermeasure I've prepared is something I've been working on for centuries—an ace meant to annihilate every Windfang faction except Woodworth. But honestly, even with that, I can't imagine defeating a legendary hero who protected the fae nation for a thousand years—let alone with Lancelot on his side."
"I had considered using the power of the Pal Sphere to better arm Gloucester and maybe think of a new plan... but there's no time, is there? So..."
She turned, suddenly smiling at the group.
"Let's run."
[On Murien's suggestion, you decisively chose to run away together.]
[Before leaving, Murien didn't forget to shrink and pack up her Pal Sphere production line using a miracle spell.]
[She sent a portion of her hired private troops to stall the coalition army while fleeing with you through Gloucester's north gate, heading straight for Manchester.]
[Though her private troops surrendered the moment they saw the might of the Windfang forces, Woodworth showed them nothing but scorn.]
"A pack of disloyal, honorless cowards," Woodworth said coldly. "So the last of the Winged Clan placed their trust in filth like you? Pathetic."
"And as it happens, I absolutely despise traitors."
[Woodworth refused their surrender and ordered his forces to trample them without mercy.]
[Meanwhile, you successfully escaped Gloucester before the coalition completed their encirclement.]
"Let's pass through Manchester for a quick resupply, then head north to Knocknarea," Murien proposed during the escape.
[From Murien, you learn she had long ago received an invitation from Knocknarea to form an alliance and plot together.]
[Though hesitant before, the value of the Pal Sphere factory and the arrival of the Windfang forces forced her hand.]
"If I present this to Knocknarea, she'll finally have the strength to oppose the Windfangs. And if I help her rise to power, not only can I take revenge on Woodworth, I can secure my position as Gloucester's ruler—and maybe even revive the Winged Clan."
[The group then begins debating Murien's proposed future course.]
Artoria: "What do we do now? Are we really going to join up with Knocknarea?"
"Why not?" Oberon asked. "At present, allying with her seems the most rational choice."
"Well..." Artoria looked hesitant, as if there were more to it.
"What are you so worried about?" Baobhan Sith asked. "Aren't you and Knocknarea supposed to be besties? Afraid she'll mistreat you or something?"
"No, that's not it... Actually, because I know her so well, that's exactly why I don't think we should go to her."
Drawing close to Baobhan Sith, Artoria lowered her voice:
"When you first saw the Pal Sphere and its description... you considered using it to capture Guinevere, didn't you?"
"Wha—?! You—You're talking nonsense!"
Baobhan Sith jumped back two steps, flustered and blushing.
"What are you two whispering about?" asked Guinevere, confused. "What did she say?"
"Ahem, just girl stuff! Don't mind us!"
Laughing awkwardly, Artoria pulled Baobhan Sith close, their heads nearly touching. With a serious expression, she said:
"There's nothing wrong with feeling tempted. Even I felt it for a moment... But using a cheat tool like that to force Guinevere's heart? That's wrong. You feel the same way, don't you?"
Baobhan Sith blinked, staring in astonishment at Artoria—as if she'd just said something unfathomable.
But Artoria didn't seem to notice. She looked deeply troubled.
"But Knocknarea... that woman would absolutely use the Pal Sphere on Guinevere the second she got it. She's just that low\... You get it now?"
Baobhan Sith's eyes suddenly widened.
After a few seconds of silent thought, she gritted her teeth and declared with disgust:
"Unforgivable! Who the hell would do something like that?! Using some creepy artifact to twist the mind of the one you love?! That kind of love is doomed! I absolutely oppose it! Especially when some two-bit mistress is trying to worm her way in now!"
"Right?!" Artoria nodded emphatically. "It's completely immoral. Anyone with a shred of decency would never do such a thing!"
"Exactly!" Baobhan Sith said firmly. "I'll never let that vile woman Knocknarea use such despicable means to taint Guinevere!"
"Uh... what are you two talking about? So, are we going to Knocknarea or not?" Guinevere asked behind them.
"Absolutely not!" —both Artoria and Baobhan Sith declared in unison.
"Eh?" Guinevere and Oberon looked at each other, baffled. "Could you... elaborate?"
"Because Knocknarea is a vile woman!" Baobhan Sith stated without hesitation.
"We absolutely cannot work with someone so unethical!" Artoria added with conviction.
"...Huh?"
Guinevere was completely lost.
But before she could respond, a panicked voice cut in:
"Bad news!"
Murien, who had disappeared upon arriving in Manchester, suddenly burst out of nowhere.
"The Windfang coalition is here! We have to run!"
[Prompted by Murien's warning, you abandon further discussion and prepare to flee Manchester immediately.]
[But before you can escape, you are intercepted by enemy forces.]
As Guinevere and the others were surrounded by fae soldiers, a shining light streaked across the sky and crashed down before them.
"No more hide-and-seek!"
Lancelot landed, dual blades gleaming, eyes filled with murderous intent.
"This time, I'm not letting you escape!"
...Yeah, they were probably done for.
Surrounded on all sides by the Windfang army, Guinevere felt her heart sink into despair.
Previously, Lancelot had held back slightly, fearing being ganged up on after her level was forcibly suppressed within Gloucester's domain.
Now the tables had turned.
They were the ones surrounded.
And with no second teleport scroll in Artoria's inventory, this time, barring a miracle, they were all going down.
—That miracle, however, soon arrived.
—The ground trembled, low rumbles echoing from afar.
Guinevere quickly recognized the source of the quaking.
The rhythmic thunder and tremors could only mean one thing: a massive cavalry charge.
Suddenly, like a clap of thunder, the outer ranks of the Windfang soldiers were thrown into chaos.
—Wait. Was that gunfire?
His ears ringing from what sounded suspiciously like gunshots, Guinevere's mind raced with questions.
A second later, riders mounted on horse-like fae broke through, shouting war cries as they tore the Windfang ranks apart—armed with long, dark, tube-shaped weapons.
In simpler terms: they were all carrying guns.
Not the kind you stab with—real firearms that shot bullets.
Guinevere knew those guns all too well... wasn't that the Magic Void Type-1 he'd developed during his Blood Demon Lord run?
Wait, had the spirit of a certain penguin company really spread to Britain already? It hadn't even been that long! And someone had already recreated his invention and formed an entire cavalry unit around it?
Mouth agape, Guinevere stared at the overwhelming force breaking through the enemy ranks.
When they finally reached the trapped party, the gun-wielding cavalry split cleanly down the middle, revealing the fae woman at their center—dressed in regal splendor and radiating an aura of commanding presence.
None other than Artoria's bestie from the north—
The Queen of the North: Knocknarea!