"Sorry, everyone. Even if this is nothing more than my own stubbornness… but since my death is already a foregone conclusion, please let me make one final attempt."
"As a warrior, I cannot accept victory bought at the cost of my comrades' sacrifice. Even if such a thing were to happen, it should only be after I have already fallen."
After throwing these words to the others, Guinevere quickly persuaded them. Before they attempted their final method, they would allow him to try once more.
But from the final look in Nocknare's eyes, Guinevere understood clearly—she truly hated him now. She hated that he so casually abandoned her again, going off alone to embrace death.
Yet in the end, she said nothing. All the reluctance in her heart, all the sorrow and resentment, dissolved into a single sigh.
"You should be grateful that Baowanxi isn't here… She wouldn't be as understanding as me. She'd probably be crying and making a scene. Sometimes, I envy her for that."
At last, Nocknare said:
"Go then… If this is your will, go.
"I'll be here, waiting for your return… just like the last time you left."
Guinevere knew exactly which time she meant. And just like that time, there would be no return. So all he could do was give a bitter smile before turning to depart.
He felt somewhat self-aware.
He knew he was letting down Nocknare, Baowanxi, and even Artoria. Once again, he was leaving them behind to play the lone hero.
But to let Artoria forge a sword again—that was something he simply could not accept.
After all, everything he had gone through after that simulation, all the circling paths, all the detours—it was because he could not accept her fate.
And now, just like in this battle against Cernunnos—despite gathering every ounce of strength, despite playing every card, despite putting everything on the line—by all normal expectations, they should have already won. Yet Cernunnos' final zombified transformation ruined everything. In the end, they discovered that all their efforts still led to the same conclusion: they needed that sword.
As if fate itself was forcing Artoria to forge it, pushing her toward becoming the one true Fairy of the Holy Sword. Everyone said she must sacrifice for them because she was born to bear it—that this was her destiny.
What kind of cruel joke was that?
They had fought, grown, changed so much—and still the only path to victory was that broken sword?
Nonsense.
"Wait and see."
"I'll kill it. Even without some star-forged divine blade, I'll use my own strength."
And so he set out, toward the beast-god said to be invincible.
He had barely gone far when a streak of blue light flashed, and a falling star landed gently at his side.
It was the fairy Lancelot.
"You really would go this far for them, huh…"
"If you've come to stop me, there's no need."
Guinevere glanced at her and said calmly,
"Three days from now, I'll be dead regardless. I have no way back."
"Darling, you really don't understand me. Though surprised, I can understand you. Just like Artoria is important to you, you are just as important to me."
Lancelot followed his long strides with little hops, trying to keep up.
"Since you've decided, I won't stop you. Your will is my highest priority."
"But if you're going to die… without you, I would be in such pain I couldn't go on living."
With that, she suddenly darted ahead, clasping her hands behind her back and grinning mischievously.
"So I've decided—I'll die with you."
Guinevere stopped cold.
"…Are you serious?" He frowned. "Think carefully. I'm going to die for Artoria, for another woman—not for you. I've never once considered you. Not once have I left space in my heart for you. In fact, if given the option to let you die in my place, I'd choose it without hesitation."
"Of course I'm serious," Lancelot laughed. "Even if you hate me, even if you're dying for someone else, I don't care."
Her smile faded as she met his gaze with startling clarity.
"If you've made up your mind, then it doesn't matter who it's for. As long as you let me stay by your side at the very end, I'll be satisfied."
"That's all I ask for."
She said it with complete sincerity.
"As for what you just said…" Her lips curled again. "If there really were an option for me to exchange my life so you could live, I'd choose it without hesitation too."
Guinevere fell silent.
He studied her bright, beaming face, but found not a trace of doubt or hesitation. She really meant it.
"…Fine. If I think about it, you are quite the fighter."
He sighed heavily.
"Come with me, then."
At those words, Lancelot lit up as if she'd been granted the greatest gift in the world. She skipped along behind him, happier than ever.
Truth be told, Guinevere thought it cruel—that he rejected Artoria's sacrifice, but accepted Lancelot as his companion in death.
But Lancelot herself didn't seem to mind.
"Why are you so happy?" he asked at last. "We're going to our deaths—shouldn't you be sad?"
"If you were reluctantly dragged into this, I wouldn't be happy," she said calmly. "But you've chosen it with conviction, without regret. For you, this is the fulfillment of your wish."
"You're mortal, Guinevere. No matter what, you could never stay with me for long. Your lifespan is far too short. One day, you were always going to leave me. I understood that long ago."
"So for you, what matters most is to die without regret. And knowing you won't die filled with sorrow—how could that make me sad?"
"…That's not what I meant," he muttered, guilt pricking him again.
He turned his head and said more softly,
"I meant—you're going to die too. Aren't you afraid? Aren't you sad? Why are you still smiling?"
"Because it's worth smiling over," she said as if it were obvious. "Because in your final moment, I'll be the one by your side. Isn't that like a kind of shared burial? Something only the closest of people could have?"
"Neither Artoria, Baowanxi, nor Nocknare can do this. So doesn't that mean I win?"
"You…" Guinevere could only gape. Words rose and died on his tongue before he sighed.
"…Fine. If that's what you want."
By then, they had arrived before the endlessly proliferating Cernunnos. At that moment, the fire of Grim's wicker-man spell finally burned out. He had bought them time, but his magic was now spent. Planting his staff into the ground, he mustered his last strength to shout:
"Win, you bastards! That's as far as this old pal can help you!"
"Old pal?" Guinevere blinked.
"Of course," Lancelot nodded. "He traveled with us once, remember? And…"
She suddenly leapt at Guinevere, hugging him tight. Before he could react, she leaned up and pecked his cheek, then pulled away with visible reluctance.
"There! My final wish is granted. Now… I'll get serious."
"You—!"
Guinevere froze, staring wide-eyed. But then he saw her change.
Her blue armor melted away, leaving bare skin only partially veiled by writhing black mud. Her fingers lengthened into claws, her legs bent into beast-like joints, horns sprouted from her brow, and black wings unfurled from her back.
Meeting his stunned gaze, Lancelot grinned:
"You said fire works against that thing, right?
"Then I'll just have to reclaim my true name as the Calamity of Flames!"
"I'm not like Barguest—hesitating, wrestling with herself, stepping forward only when there's no escape. No… I don't need any of that."
"If it's for you, Guinevere, I'll become who I was before I ever met you—without hesitation."
She scratched her cheek, suddenly shy.
"…Though judging from your face, do I look ugly like this?"
"…No," he said hoarsely, shaking his head. "Right now… you look incredible."
What emotion drove those words—gratitude, guilt, admiration? He wasn't sure. But it didn't matter.
"R-Really? That's great!"
Overjoyed by his answer, Lancelot spun gracefully, her monstrous form dancing in midair.
"Since I got your praise, I've already exceeded my wish!"
She twirled once more, showing herself proudly to him.
"But… though it's a bit greedy, I do have one last wish…"
Guinevere's breath caught. But before he could reply, she waved to him with a smile.
"Goodbye, darling.
"From here, I'll go on ahead."
And with that, without hesitation, she turned and charged the endlessly multiplying beast.