"Why… are you doing this?"
Guinevere dodged a gusting blade of wind cast by the Wind Clan fairy, unable to believe what he saw.
"Huh? What's there to question?"
His former neighbor tilted her head in genuine confusion at Guinevere's disbelief.
"When it's time to move, don't you just discard any old toys you can't take with you?"
"But instead of tossing them aside for nothing, why not make full use of them first?"
"Think about it: what better way to realize a toy's full value than to destroy it completely?"
"The dying screams of humans… they're so beautiful, so very, very beautiful!"
—There was no reasoning with her.
They spoke the same language, yet their minds were worlds apart. Guinevere had never realized this gap until now. Only in this moment did he begin to understand what those other players in the storyline meant when they said that no fairy in Britannia was innocent—that they all deserved to die.
Hearing Guinevere remain silent, the Wind Clan fairy assumed he was still mulling over thoughts of Artoria. She giggled and said, "Could it be you're still thinking about Artoria? Don't worry—once she understands the joy of slaughtering humans, she'll join us soon enough…."
At those words, Guinevere's face suddenly changed. The fairy glanced back, only to find Artoria standing behind her. For some reason, Artoria's belly looked alarmingly large—she'd clearly gained dozens of pounds—yet the rest of her figure remained as slender as ever. In her right hand she held a staff; in her left, a longsword. Her expression was impossible for the fairy to interpret.
"Oh! Artoria, you're here too! Well then, there's no helping it—you'll be the one to give your husband his first agonized scream! But remember to save me some fun afterward!"
Oblivious to any hint of trouble, the fairy beamed at Artoria, then turned back to Guinevere. She was met with his face—a mixture of disbelief and terror. That expression was so delightful to her.
It was the same look he'd worn just before she killed him.
That fear, that utter shock when betrayed by someone he loved so deeply… it was simply too exquisite.
"Oh! I know—how about you save the intestines for me? I hear the sound humans make when you pull them out is the most delightful!"
She eyed Guinevere as if choosing meat from a butcher's stall, then slapped her forehead as if struck by a brilliant idea and continued chattering on herself.
But her voice suddenly cut off, and in that instant Guinevere saw her horror-stricken face grow even more terrified. Blinking in confusion, she looked down and saw a great hole in her chest.
Just moments before, a pillar of azure magic had shot straight through her body.
Then came the sound of a blade slicing through the air behind her. The fairy's vision began to spin; her head toppled to the ground with a dull thud.
In her last moments, she saw Guinevere, in a panic, lunging at Artoria.
"You're out of your mind! How can you be fighting in this state? You're so pregnant!"
From the start, there had never been the slightest doubt between them.
…
The sound of burning buildings collapsing, the tearing and snapping of flesh, the anguished cries of betrayal and the desperate wails of the dying—these horror-filled noises echoed everywhere.
Yet Artoria felt no shock at all. She already knew all the filth hidden deep within those fairies' hearts, and what they'd secretly held in their warehouses at home. Once she discovered it, she had been violently disgusted—physically nauseated even at the thought of it.
But there was nothing she could do; fairy eyes were like that. Their vision allowed Artoria to see through every lie. Though she could not truly read thoughts, the difference was negligible. She knew, without question, whether someone was lying or exactly what emotions lay buried in their heart when they spoke.
That was why she'd never wanted to settle in Manchester. Upon reflection, it wasn't just the fairies here—those across all of Britannia were likely the same. She had seen far too many minds like theirs before.
So when she'd first anxiously asked Guinevere why he would help her, the pure affection she saw in his eyes had struck her as impossible to believe. That day, she resolved that she would return that feeling no matter what.
Thus, although she disliked this place, she had agreed when Guinevere suggested they stay. And now that the inevitable day had come, she knew she had to stand up.
She also felt gratitude that, from beginning to end, she had not once seen the slightest doubt in Guinevere's eyes. That made her very happy.
[Equipped with your staff and Guinevere's sword, you successfully reunite with Guinevere.]
[Guinevere scolds you, a pregnant woman, for not taking care of yourself.]
[You begin to move together, heading out of Manchester.]
[Because you are in a "Pregnant" state, your movement speed is greatly reduced, and all your attributes suffer severe penalties.]
[You and Guinevere are discovered by other fairies in Manchester.]
Guinevere gripped his sword and silently guided Artoria through the burning ruins of Manchester. The stench of charred wood and flesh pressed into their noses, punctuated by the endless screams of humans and the ribald laughter of fairies.
But because of Artoria's slowed pace and the keen senses of the fairies around them, it wasn't long before Guinevere heard a shout of astonishment from somewhere ahead:
"What? There are still toys left to play with?"
The fairies, who had not yet grown bored of desecrating human corpses, exchanged startled looks—then all burst out laughing together:
"Yes! Yes! There's still a fool who left his toy behind!"
"Come over here! There's a toy left to destroy!"
"Hurry! There are humans left to torture!"
"Come quickly! There's delicious meat to eat!"
Voices like these reverberated through the burning city. One by one, fairies surged toward Guinevere and Artoria.
"…Very well,"
Guinevere took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the sword.
"If you all want to die so badly, I'll grant your wish!"
Memories of battle flooded back. The endless trials, dormant for over a year, roared to life again. If those fairies were cruel, despicable jackals, then Guinevere was unquestionably the tiger. Charging alone into the horde, he left a rain of blood in his wake.
Though he had not fought in so long, his strength had only grown from swinging the blacksmith's hammer day after day. He had briefly stalled, but his training had lasted far longer than that.
He deftly evaded every spell raining down on him. When the Clan of Fangs charged head-on, Guinevere turned their own pounces against them, driving his blade through their throats before they could strike.
With sword in hand, he darted left and right, cleaving through wave after wave of enemies. Seven times he plunged in and out of their ranks, as mighty as a dragon. Soon, the ground where he walked lay strewn with fairy corpses.
He was now stronger than the ordinary guard who had stormed Tristan's camp a year ago. Back then, he had cut through the elite troops she had gathered from across Britannia, scattering them to the winds. Why should these despicable, unworthy fairies stand in his way?
Yet someone once said: once a hero has bonds, he is no longer invincible.
Before long, the fairies he had slain spotted Artoria hiding behind him.
"It's all your fault, you idiot! How is your human so strong?!"
Upon hearing this from the direction where Artoria hid, Guinevere's heart dropped like a stone. He abandoned the fairy he had just knocked to the ground—still scrambling backward in panic—and sprang back, hurling his sword with all his might. The blade pierced the fairy who had been about to attack Artoria, pinning her to a crumbling wall behind.
[You lose your sword. Your combat power is greatly reduced.]
"Hey! That mangy dog actually protects his master? Fine, let's just attack her directly!"
"Good! I've hated that outsider fairy for a long time! Kill her!"
[Because your ally Artoria has been exposed, the enemies will now target Artoria.]
"Don't you dare touch her!"
Guinevere roared, lunging forward to tackle a fairy who was sneaking up on Artoria. He slammed her to the ground, then grabbed a nearby rock and smashed it against her skull.
The rock shattered instantly, but the fairy was not yet dead—she still breathed. Guinevere struck her three more times with his fist. His own hand soon bled heavily before he finally crushed the fairy's head into a pulp.
Just as he lifted his head, he saw Artoria flying through the air, struck by another hidden fairy's attack. Blood spattered everywhere.
Without hesitation, Guinevere lunged at that fairy, grappling with her. He pummeled her until her skull caved in—then, reeling, he slammed into a nearby pile of rubble. His own head cracked like a watermelon.
Then, the endless trial reactivated, and Guinevere found himself back at the beginning of the battle.