To be honest, Gawain had decided to play this simulation as a simple commoner. The "Child of Prophecy" storyline with Artoria was notoriously difficult, and after running through Lentinum twice and managing the Round Table Army twice, he was frankly a bit weary of playing Total War: Britain again.
So when he discovered that Artoria had abandoned her prophesied mission and even refused to admit her true identity, he chose not to confront her lies. Instead, he silently resolved to stay by her side as an ordinary—and even somewhat mediocre—soldier. After all, his heart had been pierced that festival night when fireworks lit the sky and he confessed his love.
He had such a delightful "girlfriend" now—why bother chasing grand destinies? The plan was simple: live an ordinary life, love an ordinary life, marry an ordinary life, die an ordinary life. But only if the NPCs in this game allowed him to do so.
When the system message appeared announcing that Artoria had been dragged off, Gawain's face flushed as if on fire.
What do you mean? I haven't done anything to you, and yet you dare snatch her away? You dare lay hands on my girlfriend?
That was not something he could tolerate—he might be a humble guard, but he was no push-over. Especially since this playthrough, he'd devoted less effort to managing resources and more to honing his combat skills. Now his stats were higher than ever, even compared to his first run.
Without a second thought—ignoring every other option—the cursor hovered over and clicked "Gratified Vengeance."
"Come! Let's see who dares block my path!"
[Gawain charges solo into the New Darlington army.]
[The New Darlington main force is attacking Salisbury. Only thirty percent of their faery troops remain in the camp, but they are all elite.]
[A detachment of the Norwich Earth Clan is the first to spot Gawain and engages him in combat.]
[As soldiers from the Smithing Capital, they are equipped with the finest arms and armor.]
[Gawain breaks through the first line of defense, slaying fifty-seven Earth Clan faeries—among them three senior faeries and one mounted officer.]
[The New Darlington army's morale plummets.]
[Gawain seizes the long spear of the Earth Clan detachment's captain.]
[A contingent from Oxford's Tooth Clan arrives and closes in for melee combat.]
[Gawain shatters the second line of defense, cutting down eighteen Tooth Clan faeries—two senior faeries and two mounted officers among them.]
[Blood flows like rivers through the New Darlington encampment.]
[Gawain presses forward until he reaches the tent of the faery knight Tristan, encountering two of the Queen's personal knights.]
[Though not on par with a full-fledged Faery Knight, both of them wear Morgan Queen's enchanted armor and rule over granted fiefs—each capable of going toe-to-toe with a hundred ordinary troops.]
[Gawain battles the two knights for thirty rounds, luring one into a hidden trap within the camp and killing him. He then duels the second for twelve rounds and finally drives his spear through that knight's throat.]
[The New Darlington army, terrorized by Gawain's prowess, dare not face him again and scatters.]
[Gawain strides unimpeded to Tristan's personal tent.]
Artoria stared in stunned disbelief as the system text scrolled by. She finally understood what it meant to have an SSR gold card's strength: My Gawain is invincible!
Her joy lasted only a few seconds, though—until yet another line of text appeared:
[Gawain sustained twelve injuries in battle. His most severe wound is a gut-piercing blow to the abdomen, though miraculously no vital organs were hit. Additionally, he bears a deep sword slash on his upper arm, a grievous tear across his back, and an ice blade wound through his left shoulder.]
[Due to these injuries, Gawain's Strength and Agility each drop by one tier.]
Reading those words, Artoria's heart clenched. She lowered her head and bit her lip so fiercely it hurt.
"…I've become a burden to you once more."
Then a final line of text appeared:
[Gawain issues a challenge to Faery Knight Tristan.]
"Can he actually beat her?"
To be honest, Gawain himself felt a tremor of doubt as he faced Tristan inside her tent. His status was at rock bottom. He'd sliced through wave after wave of elite faery troops, but this final duel was the hardest of all.
His attributes were the strongest he'd ever mustered in three simulations, yet he still lacked the single-man domination of a Percival or the battlefield single-handedness of a Woodworth. He'd barely made it this far by sheer force of will and countless trial-and-error deaths.
Just breaking through the Earth Clan's outer line had cost him seventeen lives—17. But at the time, he hadn't realized how dire things were and had charged on. When he faced the two knights, he died nearly a hundred times in a row.
It reminded him of the "two-Blacksmith Knights" gauntlet in his first playthrough. If he hadn't discovered a few traps in the enemy camp and sabotaged them in advance—dragging one body to safety—he'd still be stuck there, unable to progress.
That was the cruel irony of immortals: you could slay them a thousand times, but they only needed to land one perfect strike to kill you. Yet despite the bitter cost, Gawain had managed to beat those two stubborn opponents.
Now his body was a war-torn mess. Those wounds had drastically reduced his combat effectiveness. He wasn't even half as strong as he had been earlier.
Could he really stand against Woodworth's prodigy, Faery Knight Tristan?
Gawain pressed the "Endless Trial" mark he had placed on her, then tightened his grip on his spear. Every muscle quivered to its limit, bracing for her ambush.
Tristan offered no grace. The moment she saw Gawain cleave down the courier knight who'd dared to challenge him, rage flared in her eyes.
She kicked off the ground and glided across the tent floor like ice under her boots, closing the distance in an instant. But Gawain, razor-sharp with anticipation, sidestepped as soon as she moved.
Almost too late for her surprise, a cluster of red magic threads—Tristan's signature arcane lariat—whipped through the very spot Gawain had occupied. The crack of sliced air was ear-splitting.
"Wh—"
Tristan's astonishment still echoed when Gawain lunged in instinctive counterattack. His spear flashed, and in a single, brutal strike, he impaled Tristan's shoulder.
Then Gawain's own face registered his shock: How is she… so weak?