"Your Majesty..."
Staring at the sacred spear's branches spreading endlessly like the World Tree itself, and at the Lion King who held that phantom tree high, Bedivere's left hand clenched his silver prosthetic right arm.
And precisely because of that motion, he could feel even more clearly—how violently his hand was trembling.
At this very moment, he had finally reached the end of his journey… The king he had longed for day and night stood before him, only a few dozen meters away. As long as he could muster the courage to rush forward, he could finally reach the end he had pursued all this time.
Yet now, he could not move at all.
He couldn't even take a single step forward.
—Because of fear.
"Sir Bedivere, are you alright?"
Sensing something was wrong, Ritsuka Fujimaru tugged lightly at his sleeve.
"We should move back a little. If we get any closer, the Lion King's attacks might reach us… I'm sorry. I'm so useless that you can't go help the others. I'm too weak. I'm really sorry for troubling you to protect me."
"I—I see." Bedivere nodded lightly, but a bitter smile appeared on his face.
How disgraceful. His fear had grown so obvious that even Chaldea's Master could notice it… And to comfort him, she even said it was because he had to protect her that he couldn't go fight.
But in truth, it should have been his duty to step forward and stop his king's wrongdoing.
However, since the King no longer remembered him and had turned all her attention to that other king from another world, the true culprit—himself—had been given the shameful chance to hide and survive in a corner.
He found himself utterly disgusting.
Yet every time he thought about stepping forward, he was haunted by the possibility that things might not go as he wished—that even at the end of his long journey, he might still fail to save his King. The sins of the past might already be beyond redemption.
That thought alone suffocated him, making his body tremble uncontrollably. He could not take even a single step.
Compared to that terrifying outcome, death itself seemed trivial.
.................................
"You sure have a knack for running out of steam at the worst possible moment."
Pulling Artoria—who had frozen after her Exalted form expired—out of the path of the spear's branches, Guinevere grumbled.
"What was I supposed to do!?"
Having reverted from her Fairy Knight form, Artoria's personality returned to that of her usual, childish self. Stung by Guinevere's complaint, she immediately protested:
"I was carrying that fight for so long! I fought from full mana all the way to empty! How can you say I ran out at the crucial moment?"
And somehow, she even tossed the blame back at Guinevere:
"Weren't *you* the one not doing enough this time? Maybe the problem's on your end!"
"Uh…"
Guinevere froze, momentarily unable to retort.
The unexpected situation had been far too chaotic. The Lion King had no buffs, relying purely on overwhelming stats—a nightmare opponent for Guinevere in her current state. Moreover, it wasn't even supposed to come to this. Morgan had said she would handle the Lion King personally… but where was she now?
"Whatever. It's not the first time she's shown up late in a key fight."
Having been delayed countless times by that same accomplice, King Lot muttered wryly.
Still, aside from Morgan, there was supposed to be someone else who would prove useful in confronting the Lion King. Otherwise, Guinevere wouldn't have assigned him to her third team.
Thinking that, Guinevere's gaze flicked toward the rear—toward Bedivere—before she looked away again.
In truth, she had a guess as to why he hadn't joined the battle.
—Because everything had gone *too* smoothly.
Since she and her allies had joined Chaldea, all the obstacles that Bedivere and Chaldea should have struggled through had been cleared away for them. Even the duels that should have been Bedivere's moments of redemption against his fellow Knights of the Round Table were handled by her team instead.
Thus, Bedivere had lost all those chances to confront his heart, to reaffirm his resolve. Even now, at this final moment, Guinevere's team was still shielding him, leaving him without that last spark of determination to step forward.
So in a way, Artoria wasn't wrong—it really *was* Guinevere's fault this time.
But still, he was Bedivere—Arthur's most loyal knight. Given a little time, Guinevere believed he would make the right choice.
"Can't be helped, then. Since I messed up this round, I'll just have to buy him the time he needs."
Guinevere murmured.
"Huh? What did you say?" Artoria looked up at her in confusion.
"It's nothing. I just meant…"
Suddenly, Guinevere's eyes widened as she looked toward the Lion King.
"—It's about to end."
At that moment, the Lion King pulled her sacred spear free from the illusory World Tree that had grown out of it. Yet the tree did not stop growing—it had already rooted itself into her obsession, continuing to spread endlessly atop the Tower's summit.
Meanwhile, the Lion King once again raised her spear and aimed it toward them all.
"Your journey ends here."
"Oh, come on, you've gotta be kidding me."
Dodging desperately between the branches, Guinevere muttered, "She's seriously attacking now? How are we supposed to dodge *that*?"
The next instant, as the Lion King lunged forward, Guinevere grabbed Artoria, threw her clear, then seized Vic's spear. A flicker of madness ignited at the tip as she thrust toward the Lion King.
The Lion King halted abruptly.
"The same trick? Did you really think it'd work twice?"
Before her words even faded, a beam of light burst from her spear's tip, slamming into Guinevere's chest. Guinevere reacted fast—but not fast enough. She was blasted away, crashing hard, barely able to rise before countless branches rained down toward her.
"Guinevere!"
Artoria, just recovering from her tumble, saw it all and panicked. She tried to unleash a wave of mana to intercept the branches—but her reserves were dry. Nothing happened.
Then, a blue streak flashed through the air, slicing every oncoming branch apart before landing beside Guinevere.
"Darling! Are you okay? Are you hurt!?"
Melusine appeared from the blue light, quickly catching Guinevere.
"I would've been seriously injured, but thanks to your timing, it's just a light wound. Thanks."
Guinevere reached out and ruffled her hair casually.
"Heheh—Darling touched my head… heheh…"
Melusine froze with a silly grin, as if their relationship had suddenly advanced. Guinevere couldn't help but chuckle and patted her again.
"Alright, don't just stand there. The Lion King's next attack's coming… huh?"
He suddenly sensed something—and his eyes lit up.
"Don't worry, darling. Leave the Lion King to me! I'll take her down for you!"
Melusine straightened proudly, patting her chest and stepping forward—but Guinevere caught her wrist.
"No, Melusine. Facing both the World Tree and the Lion King alone would be too much for you. Just handle the branches."
He stepped up beside her.
"Perfect timing." He pressed two fingers together like a blade before him.
"Domain—unfold!"
A ripple spread outward from him, expanding rapidly until it passed through the Lion King's inner world—engulfing the Tower's summit and hundreds of meters of floating islands around it.
"Let's see… current buffs in the field: Lancelot's Ferocity and Accuracy, Agravain's Madness, and—Gawain's Triple Amplification."
Feeling the power surging through him, Guinevere raised his sword again.
"My turn."
......................................
"Wait… this feeling…"
Elsewhere, on a lower floating island, Gawain—who had just been slammed there by Baobhan Sith—felt the ripple wash over him.
"This is… Father's domain, the one that shares buffs?"
Then it hit him. He turned sharply toward Baobhan Sith.
"You insisted on moving our fight here, even taking my hits—was this your plan?"
"So you noticed, huh?" she replied, lifting her sword again.
Moments ago, she'd received a message from Romani—relayed from Guinevere—telling her to lure Gawain within three hundred meters of the Tower's base no matter what. The goal: to bring him into Guinevere's domain, so that the strongest blessing of the Round Table could be shared with him.
"I'll keep you trapped here. You're not leaving."
She fixed her eyes on Gawain. That was the best way she could help.
...................................
Meanwhile, as Guinevere's aura reached its peak and he clashed once more with the Lion King, elsewhere Morgan stood silently, hidden on another battlefield.
She watched as two knights fought fiercely—
One, the twice-betrayed knight Lancelot.
The other, her loyal son—Agravain.