After confirming their next destination, the group quickly packed up and set off again.
While the nearest entrance to the Vein Corridor wasn't far from where they were… that was only relative to their original plan of heading to Gloucester or other fae cities. In truth, even in a straight line, the journey would take at least half a day. And to avoid being spotted by the patrolling Lancelot in the skies, the three of them chose paths shrouded in dense forest wherever possible.
Not to mention, in such forests, one often ran into all sorts of strange and bizarre monsters.
A heavy hum of buzzing filled the air as giant poisonous wasps—each as large as a human head—whizzed through the canopy. The violet-black stingers at the end of their abdomens occasionally reflected an ominous flash of light.
Though these creatures were considered minor threats in the forest, their swift flight, small hitbox, and erratic swaying made them a nightmare to hit with ranged spells.
This, exactly, was the dilemma Artoria and Bavanzi now faced.
At first, when the swarm of venomous insects attacked, neither of them took the situation seriously. Artoria tossed a prototype magic grenade, and Bavanzi followed with a shower of mana arrows—wiping out most of the swarm in one clean sweep.
No big deal, they had thought. Just oversized bugs that crumbled with one touch.
But when they stopped using AoE magic and switched to single-target spells to clean up the stragglers, they quickly realized something was off. Every blast missed. The few remaining bugs dodged effortlessly, zigzagging through the air like annoying little demons. And by the time they took things seriously again, the wasps were practically in their faces—their venomous stingers gleaming ominously as they prepared to strike.
Just then, the sound of air splitting rang out.
A sword cleaved through the air from the side, intercepting one of the giant wasps mid-flight and slicing it clean in two.
Then, without missing a beat, the blade swung again. And again. The rapid strikes left only the sound of slicing wind in the air, as the remaining wasps were shredded into pieces before they could even react.
Immediately afterward, Guinevere shifted his stance, raised a hand, and summoned the illusion of a handgun. Several gunshots rang out. The wasps swarming Bavanzi's side were picked off mid-air, bursting like overripe fruit.
With his Strength and Agility boosted to rank D by his "Traits," plus Artoria's buff, Guinevere made quick work of these high-speed, low-HP enemies.
After all, both his "Starseeker Eyes" and "Gun Devil's Flesh Fragment" gave him built-in auto-aim in both melee and ranged attacks. It was basically cheating.
"If you guys are so bad at aiming, why the hell were you trying to pick them off one by one?"
He casually flicked the bug gunk off his sword and asked:
"Don't both of you have some kind of area-of-effect spell centered on yourselves? Why not use it? Saving it for Christmas?"
Ding! Because you effortlessly handled the threat and casually roasted your teammates, your actions perfectly embody the spirit of the Gun Boy. Demon Contract charge increased by 10%. Current charge: 10%.
"…Huh?"
Guinevere blinked at the prompt.
That counted as roasting the team?
Seriously, bro—no, System—have you never seen a real sweatlord?
And just like that, Artoria and Bavanzi began arguing.
"Of course it's her fault! If I used AoE magic willy-nilly, I'd probably catch her in it too! I was holding back for her sake!"
"Ha? You're blaming me?! Maybe it's you who's the dead weight! If I were alone, those bugs would've been gone eight hundred years ago!"
"Oh please! You think these bugs are hard for me? The real challenge is babysitting you!"
"Who's babysitting who, huh? You backwater country fae really don't know your place. Don't tell me you're unaware of how pitiful your mana reserves are."
"..."
Watching the two of them bicker, Guinevere didn't even have the energy to step in anymore. He just massaged his temples and sighed.
Clearly, the previous simulations had done nothing to improve their teamwork. Even now, they were still dragging each other down—and still arguing about it.
Ding!
Another familiar chime. Guinevere checked his artifact charge—it had increased again.
Guess the original Gun Boy, who once ran dungeons with the Chainsaw Kid and the Blood Devil, also felt this kind of soul-crushing exhaustion from his party.
...Eh, not a bad deal. If their bickering gives him charge, then why bother stopping them?
He turned away from the two lovable idiots and looked toward the opposite side of the forest. Shaking his head, he dashed forward with his sword and gun at the ready.
On the other side, Oberon was in a "fight" with a monster that had the head of a lion, the body of a goat, and the tail of a serpent.
Well—more like the monster was chasing him while he dodged and danced away with the grace of a matador. Every motion was precise, elegant. He looked more like he was entertaining the creature than battling it.
"No, the situation isn't quite as graceful as it looks,"
Oberon seemed to read Guinevere's expression and forced a smile:
"I just can't really hurt this chimera, so I'm buying time with dodges and a bit of poison dust. But if you could lend a hand here, I'd be most grateful."
"Got it."
Guinevere nodded and took a step forward. But just as he moved, his body suddenly trembled—and he dropped to one knee.
Like someone struck by a sudden illness, he had to prop himself up with his sword, gasping for breath as sweat broke out on his forehead.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?!"
Dodging another lunge, Oberon shouted back in concern.
"…Yeah. I'm fine."
Guinevere sucked in a deep breath and, gripping his sword tightly, stood up again. His eyes locked onto the monster that had just ended his life.
He raised his gun and aimed at the creature still chasing Oberon.
Then his body shuddered again.
This time, he didn't collapse. His face just paled.
"…It's just a matter of dying a few times to get used to it."
He pulled the trigger.
A flash of fire exploded at the creature's tail, severing the serpent-like appendage.
"That'll keep it from blind-siding us."
"—ROAR!"
Enraged, the chimera turned and locked onto Guinevere, mouth opening wide.
Anticipating this, Guinevere dove sideways the moment its mouth opened, avoiding the incoming fireball by a hair.
He rolled, raised his gun again, and fired twice—blasting both of the creature's eyes.
Then, dispersing the illusion of the gun, he drew his sword. Sliding his left hand along the blade, he coated it in searing flame.
"Firearms alone won't cut it… I'll have to take it down up close."
With a muttered resolve, Guinevere charged forward. But a few steps in, his body convulsed again—and he dropped low, almost as if collapsing.
At the same moment, the now-blind chimera lunged toward where he had just stood—missing entirely.
Guinevere, already beneath it, swung his flaming blade upward—cleaving through its abdomen.
Though the sword he wielded was a simple one stolen from a guard, with the A-rank divine fire enchantment and "Massive Bonus Damage vs All Targets," it tore through the beast's scaled belly like paper. Blood and entrails gushed out in torrents.
Guinevere didn't pause. He rolled away, scrambled to his feet, and sprinted toward the trees.
Behind him, the dying chimera gave chase—but its shredded belly trailed viscera with every step. A few paces in, it collapsed with a heavy thud.
Oberon stared in stunned silence for a long moment before speaking.
"…Holy crap."
He glanced at the monster's corpse, then back at Guinevere, looking dazed.
"Wait, what? That was it? You—weren't you weaker than me? That thing went down just like that?!"
But Guinevere didn't answer.
He just sat there, gasping for breath, eyes locked on the chimera's remains, heart pounding like a war drum.
Four times.
That was how many times he had died just now.
Ding! You once again faced death head-on, and despite the fear, overcame it and confronted your enemy. Your actions align with both Chainsaw Boy and Gun Boy. Demon Contract charge +20% x2. Current charge: 60%.
Guinevere smiled silently at the now-lifeless corpse.
Turns out, it wasn't so bad.
When he had locked onto the creature with Endless Trial, he'd expected to die far more than that.
But by trial and error, identifying weak points, and predicting its attacks, even someone like him could win.
After facing Lancelot and nearly dying, he realized—
Killing. Fighting.
They weren't so hard after all.
Once you get over that mental hurdle—
You too can become a real warrior.
Death?
It's just something you get used to.
Author's Note:
Shoutout to a friend's awesome book:
Synopsis:
In a matriarchal world, the MC has been isekai'd for 2.5 years, fighting for all the good in the world… only to be told he's just a throwaway villain in a dumb, dark anime game.
But the higher his popularity, the stronger he becomes!
"Doesn't matter if I'm strong. I just want to fight for the beautiful things in this world—and give players a game that makes them smile."
So Su Feng takes matters into his own hands, determined to inject some proper balance into the game—and teach the devs what "healthy and uplifting" really means.
Except...
[Dev, you heartless bastards!]
[Stop torturing my Su Feng!!]
[Nooo not another knife scene!]
[Why are we crying over a damn video game?!]
[Su Su!! My precious Su Su!!]
[STOP WITH THE TRAGEDY!!]
Fan titles include:
"The Only S-Class Husband," "Fanfic Savior," "Uncrowned King of Doujin," "3D Jerusalem," "Defeat Resources God," "Resource Please Bestie," "…"
As players lose their minds and the fandom spirals out of control, Su Feng finds himself baffled.
"…Wait. Are they seriously crying over me?"