"Ah, Oberon…" Gawain strokes his chin as he reads the text on the simulator, pondering with curiosity. Even a casual player like him knows of Oberon's legendary reputation. Always playing the mischievous Faery King, Oberon first appeared in version 2.6 as the Masters' companion. He guided them through all of Britain, only to reveal at the very end that he was the hidden mastermind—and the greatest liar—in all Fairy Britain. According to the group's experts, the web of secret plots Oberon wove across Britain could knit a sweater for Gudao himself.
Exactly what those schemes entailed, Gawain still does not know, but he remembers Oberon well. After all, it takes something extraordinary to make the group's diehard whale spend all their quartz just to roll for a male character—Oberon was the first to do that.
One of his favorite quotes from the noisy group chat:
"Among all the insignificant pawns, I am the most insignificant—and among all the Servants I love, you are the one I love most."
That line stirs Gawain's curiosity even more.
[You and Artoria warmly welcome this guest named Oberon.]
[You all chat as if old friends reunited. Oberon feels like someone you haven't seen in ages; Artoria even brings out the freshly baked cookies she's been working on to serve him.]
Truly, it felt like a reunion—after all, Gawain had spent so much time "working overtime" for Oberon in the past. He recalls his level-100 Oberon bonding point, maxed out from those late-night sessions.
[Because you have already promised Gawain you would honor previous agreements with Faery Knight Gawain, you politely decline Oberon's offered weapons contract from Noknarei's army.]
[Before leaving, Oberon asks if you will walk with him a while—he wants to speak with you privately.]
Seeing that note on-screen, Gawain does not hesitate. He nods readily—after all, he's genuinely curious about Britain's greatest puppet master. Furthermore, in the previous simulation, Percival had told him that the Round Table's true leader was actually Oberon himself.
[You and Oberon step outside and begin walking as you talk.]
"This distance is far enough that Artoria shouldn't hear us. I'll get straight to the point." Oberon says comfortably, slinging an arm around Gawain's shoulder as if they truly are old friends.
"Honestly, the weapon contract was never the main reason I came here. My real goal was just to see you both."
He glances at Gawain with a wry smile.
"But I suppose you already saw through that—you and I don't need many words to understand one another, do we?"
"Honestly," Oberon continues, "I've always been a secret benefactor of the Child of Prophecy. I even formed the Round Table Army to support her—but I never expected she'd never appear. I began to wonder if something went wrong."
"Recently, I finally learned from Gawain that she is here in Manchester—so I hurried over, only to find you, and the Prophetic Child who's resigned herself to the simple life of a village girl…"
At this, Oberon gazes at Gawain with a hint of reproach.
"How dare you let Artoria, who was meant to save Britain, end up like this. Gawain, you are truly a blight upon all of Britain."
"Even so, I don't believe I did anything wrong," Gawain replies coolly. "And it was her own choice—no one forced her."
Ignoring the barb in Oberon's tone, Gawain remains serene.
"But don't you think it's cruel to force a girl to shoulder the world's salvation without ever asking her permission?" Gawain asks softly.
Surprisingly, Oberon does not argue. Instead, he nods in agreement.
"You speak like a man who truly understands. Or perhaps, Artoria's choice inspired me—that I, too, could cast aside a grand mission and live only for myself. She gave me much to ponder."
"Are you saying you want to let go, too?" Gawain arches an eyebrow.
"No, dear friend, don't wish that for me," Oberon sighs. "My duty cannot be abandoned so lightly… Wait—what is that expression on your face?" Curious at Gawain's reaction, Oberon looks up.
"Nothing," Gawain says, and his voice softens. "I only feel strangely at ease around you, as if we really have known each other for ages."
"…Huh." Oberon pauses mid-step, surprised. Then a slow smile spreads across his face. "You're right. I feel it too. We just click—like old friends who share an unspoken bond."
"By the way," Oberon adds, "you seem to favor black clothing. I myself am rather partial to white. Don't you think the contrast makes us quite the pair?"
Gawain glances down at the simple black tunic he's wearing. He meets Oberon's eyes and concedes: "Well, although you do look every inch the White Knight, perhaps it is purely coincidence that I chose black today."
"Haha!" Oberon laughs heartily, leaving Gawain momentarily bewildered. But Oberon quickly moves on to another topic, drawing Gawain's attention anew:
"To be honest, I've long wanted to meet you in person. I'm curious—what sort of man would make Artoria willingly renounce her destiny?"
"Well," Gawain says wryly, "now that you've met me, you have your answer. We haven't met before, yet between my deeds and our brief time together, I think you can see why she chose me."
"Is that not presumptuous of me?" Gawain asks.
"Not at all," Oberon replies, loosening his arm around Gawain's shoulder. He steps in front of Gawain and pauses. "This is about where we part ways. I have errands to run. I suspect someone like you—destined for more than obscurity—will cross paths with me again soon, yes?"
With that, Oberon suddenly shrinks into a small, chibi-like form with a surprised poof, and a fuzzy, moth-like creature appears, alighting at Oberon's feet. Oberon casually hops atop the large moth, as if it were his steed, and calls back over his shoulder:
"Although I truly hope this—ahem—disgustingly delightful reunion not happen again soon…"
Then, with a single beat of wings, the moth carries Oberon off into the sunset.
If one ignored his pint-sized appearance at this moment, he indeed resembled a shining White Knight riding a chivalrous steed.
Gawain stands alone, staring after him and digesting Oberon's final words. But of course, given that Oberon is the Great Trickster—nine out of ten statements being lies—when he said he finds it disgusting to meet Gawain again, he probably meant the exact opposite: that he cannot wait to see him again. Gawain smirks at his own deduction.
You know what? From now on, I'll just call him the White Moth Prince.
[After Oberon's departure, you and Artoria continue your simple life at the forge—never once attempting to build a grand reputation, as Oberon suggested.]
[Queen's Calendar 2019, March: You receive news that a few unusual humans have arrived in Manchester. They say they come from beyond the "Light Barrier" that surrounds Britain—a realm of pan-human legend.]
Upon reading this, Gawain suddenly sits upright in excitement. At last—version 2.6's main plot begins! Masters from Chaldea! Which Master—Gudao or Gudako—would actually appear in this world? He wonders: Could I, too, become a Master, summoned to save humanity? And perhaps even summon my own Servant? A thrill of anticipation prickles through him.
Without hesitation, Gawain sends his avatar to investigate further. Soon, new text appears on-screen:
[You learn that the two visitors from beyond the Light Barrier appear to be human men—both short and stout in build.]
"Ah?" Gawain exclaims, stunned. What is this? That's nothing like what I expected. Neither Gudao nor Gudako are short and round! And where's Mashu?
[You attempt to approach the two visitors, but they do not linger in Manchester and soon depart.]
[Faery Knight Gawain announces to the people of Manchester that she has struck an agreement with the visitors from pan-human legend, allowing select faeries of Manchester to journey beyond the Light Barrier to their world.]
[With this, even when the once-in-a-millennium Calamity strikes, the faeries of Manchester will be spared.]
[Upon hearing this, all residents of Manchester erupt in joyous celebration; a grand festival ensues.]
Artoria finds herself utterly bewildered. The reason is simple and it lies in the very words now displayed on the screen:
[Because your relationship with Gawain has not progressed further, you feel troubled.]
[You believe this festival presents a good opportunity to take things to the next level.]
What does this mean? A small question mark pops above Artoria's head.
Are they not already close enough? After all, they live under the same roof—supporting one another, working toward shared goals, and have long sworn they will never part. In what way could they become any closer?
To clarify her confusion, the simulator adds:
[During your time in Manchester, you obtained some rare books from faeries you met. After reading them, you realized your relationship with Gawain could deepen even more.]
"Deepen…?" Artoria tilts her head, perplexed.
Suddenly, an indescribable image flashes across the screen—accompanied by strange audio murmurs in Artoria's ears. She stands frozen.
"W-what is this—"
Shocked by the startling visuals, Artoria raises her hands to cover her eyes. Yet she cannot resist peeking through her fingers.
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! S-so this is what 'adult things' are about?!"
She blushes scarlet at the scene unfolding before her. Such forbidden knowledge seems far too early for her innocent heart. But for her simulated self, it is a different story altogether.
[To deepen your bond with Gawain, you purchase potent wine in Gloucester.]
[After much deliberation, you decide to apply some of the interesting recipes from the rare books to enhance that wine.]
Artoria grit her teeth as she peeks through her fingers—My goodness, my simulated self is utterly shameless!
[You retrieve the formal gown Gawain gifted you; its sentimental value has kept you from wearing it until now.]
[On the morning of the festival, you use a high-end beauty set you bought in Gloucester—said to make any girl more beautiful. After careful grooming, you slip into the precious gown.]
[At the festival, you become the center of attention in your splendid attire.]
[Countless faeries and humans attempt to invite you to join them, but you refuse every one of them.]
[However, you do not see Gawain among the crowd.]
[You discover that Gawain, having confused the festival date, worked late into the night at the forge.]
[When you finally find Gawain, he looks disheveled. Other women at the festival cast scornful glances at him.]
[You weave through the crowd and come to stand by Gawain's side.]
[At that moment, Gawain has also become the center of attention for the crowd.]
[You feel a surge of happiness at this.]
[You take his hand and invite him to spend the festival night with you.]
[You notice Gawain holds a pair of rings in his hand.]
[Only then do you realize: these rings were Gawain's handcrafted gift meant for you—he simply remembered the wrong festival date.]
[Your heart races with powerful emotion.]
[Soon, you accompany Gawain home and bring out the special wine you prepared earlier.]
"W-what exactly—" Artoria's mind threatens to short-circuit as she peeks at the screen.
"Stop it, stop it!"
[You both become thoroughly drunk, your affections deepening.]
[After that night, you both grow and mature together.]
"Wait—what is happening?"
On the other side, Gawain's eyes widen in surprise:
"I don't need more gauge! Write more for me!"