Night slowly descended as the evening breeze stirred the leaves, and moonlight spilled like flowing water over the vast, boundless land.
A thin mist lightly shrouded the silent forest, like a dream draped in gossamer.
Through the layers of tall trees, in the ink-black night, only a bright fire shone deep within the forest.
The orange-red campfire flickered and swayed, its flames constantly changing shape with the evening wind; occasional sparks flew out, only to burn out and vanish into the world the moment they escaped.
Ting~
Without warning, a crescent of sword-light as bright as the moon cut through the night air with the force of a rainbow, as if transcending the distance of time and space.
The speed was so great that the hideous monster’s grotesque expression seemed frozen in time.
Before it died, its eyes, wide with terror, clearly reflected a somewhat slender figure.
With blonde hair and green eyes, the exquisite and outstanding face was filled with a chilling coldness that mirrored the gem-like emerald pupils; the aura surrounding the figure was like a sword—clear yet awe-inspiring.
By the campfire, Artoria swung her longsword down fiercely, the cold white blade tracing a graceful arc like a crescent moon.
With just a single strike, the longsword, coming to a halt in mid-air, had fulfilled its mission.
Blood rolled down the blade, slowly dripping onto the ground and being completely absorbed by the soil beneath.
With a look of disbelief, it lowered its head to look at its own body, where a clean cut was slowly gushing blood.
Accompanied by a shrill scream, the monster’s consciousness began to fade, and its deformed body lost all strength.
It fell backward, crashing heavily to the ground, bringing its brief and sinful life to a hasty end.
“Truly impressive.”
Kay looked at Artoria, who had already sheathed her sword, with a face full of admiration.
“Al, your swordsmanship is becoming more and more exquisite.”
Hearing her foster brother’s heartfelt praise, Artoria felt slightly bashful and said, “It’s just that I’ve had more actual combat lately, so I’ve gained a bit of insight.”
After she finished speaking, she turned her head to look at the monster she had slain, which now lay dead on the ground.
What she said was no lie.
Since setting out, in just a few days, she had witnessed no fewer than eight tragedies caused by monsters during her journey.
And those were only the instances she had seen with her own eyes where she could step in to help.
Taking the small to represent the large, given the vastness of Britain’s territory, how many others were dying untimely deaths or having their families destroyed at this very moment?
Artoria knew; coming from the future, she was well aware of the current situation.
The Age of Gods had reached its end, and Mystery would eventually vanish; what followed would be the Age of Man—all of this had long been ordained by fate.
However, the transition between eras is always dark; the mana of the earth had already begun to turn chaotic, and the magical factors in the air were restless.
Such a chaotic environment gave birth to numerous monsters—violent, disorderly creatures that slaughtered all living beings other than themselves with impunity.
Coupled with Britain’s internal and external troubles—foreign tribes eyeing the land and frequently launching wars, while domestic lords were embroiled in constant conflict over their own interests.
The people of Britain lived in constant misery, their lives truly destitute.
At this time, there was a desperate need for someone to stand up and end it all.
And Artoria was the one chosen to break the deadlock.
Due to King Arthur’s inherent nature and significance, as long as she sat upon the throne, she could suppress the chaotic mana within the land, thereby greatly reducing the number of monsters and other disasters caused by the magical upheaval.
The Age of Gods would still vanish, and the Age of Man would eventually arrive.
But as the symbol of the final Age of Gods, King Arthur was an indispensable factor for a smooth transition between eras.
Thus, it was not King Arthur who chose Britain, but Britain that chose King Arthur.
“Fate, indeed…”
Artoria couldn’t help but sigh deeply, her heart feeling an unprecedented weight at that moment.
After working with Kay to drag the monster’s corpse away for burial, the two turned back toward the campfire.
“Here.”
Taking the bag of dry rations and water Kay handed her, Artoria laid her longsword across her knees and began to tackle tonight’s meal.
She chewed the dry, hard block made of beans and mixed grains, struggling to swallow it with water.
“This tastes awful…”
Kay complained about the food with a bitter expression; Artoria agreed with him one hundred percent.
“Seconded.
No matter how many times I eat these dry rations, I can never get used to them.”
Even the most complex and heavy emotions would take a back seat when faced with such a loathsome dinner.
The coarse fibers scraped against the soft mouth and esophagus; aside from saltiness, there was only the raw, fishy taste of the beans themselves—the strange flavor was unbearable.
However, food meant strength, so no matter how hard it was to swallow, Artoria and Kay only grumbled a bit before continuing to frown, carefully chewing the sand-like food and swallowing it down.
When they finally finished eating, both let out a long sigh of relief.
“…If nothing goes wrong tomorrow, the nearest village is only half a day’s ride away.
It hasn’t been easy; it would be great if we could get some proper rest there.”
“It can’t be helped.
So much has happened on this road; it’s only natural to be exhausted in body and mind.”
“It’ll be enough just to get a good night’s sleep.
Your big brother here feels sore all over right now.”
Leaning by the campfire, the two chatted idly, slowly passing the time.
After a long while, the night grew deep.
Drowsiness washed over him, and Kay let out a lazy yawn.
“Al, I’m going to sleep first.
Wake me when it’s time to switch.”
A campfire at night easily attracted ill-intentioned entities, but Kay and Artoria were martial artists after all; they were more than capable of protecting themselves.
When camping in the wild, it was always best to be cautious, so they took turns keeping watch through the long night, and today was no exception.
Perhaps they were lucky, but in any case, nothing happened that night.
As time passed, a pale light appeared on the distant horizon, and the orange-red sun slowly rose, shining upon the earth once more as the second morning arrived.
After the two, who had long been awake, finished a simple wash with water from their skins, they mounted their horses and headed toward the village mentioned the previous night.
More than half of the half-day journey passed in the blink of an eye.
Artoria was riding along, lost in thought, when she suddenly seemed to hear a sound.
The sound was somewhat distant and intermittent, making it hard to hear clearly.
Artoria felt a sense of unease and quickly called for Kay, who was riding beside her, to stop.
After reining in her horse, she tilted her head and listened carefully for a moment, her expression gradually becoming serious.
Suddenly, Artoria’s face changed sharply, and she turned to urgently explain the situation to Kay.
“Someone is calling for help!”
Although Kay had a carefree and somewhat boisterous personality, he was undoubtedly a true knight.
Neither Kay nor Artoria could turn a blind eye to a cry for help.
They exchanged a glance and, without a word, turned their horses in unison and galloped toward the source of the cries.
Following the cries for help, they rode at full speed, and in no time at all, they arrived at the scene.
“Help…
Help me!”
Gert scrambled along, terrified as he tried to escape the monster pursuing him relentlessly.
His clothes were already in tatters from the chase, and his body was covered in wounds.
Even worse, his right arm had been slashed by the monster’s claws and was now bleeding uncontrollably.
The situation was dire.
Had Gert not been a hunter—strong and familiar with the mountains and terrain from his daily hunts—he wouldn’t have been able to maneuver around the somewhat clumsy monster and would have been dead long ago.
“Someone…
help!”
He couldn’t hold out much longer; the wound on his right arm was too severe.
If it wasn’t treated soon, he would bleed to death.
The monster was right behind him.
Hearing its roars, Gert’s heart was filled with despair.
He was unwilling to give up; his sick wife was still waiting for him at home.
If he could just catch some prey to trade for money, he could afford the medicine to treat her.
And yet…
and yet…
Thinking of his wife’s gentle face, he felt the wind from the monster’s claws swinging behind him.
He suddenly stumbled and fell to the ground.
It was over.
Everything was over.
Gert closed his eyes in resignation, quietly waiting for death to arrive.
Just then.
Clang—
…
What was that sound?
Am I not dead?
In the darkness, the eyes-closed Gert suddenly heard these words.
“Please open your eyes.
You have done well facing the monster; please leave the rest to us.”
The clear voice was like a spring of fresh water, flowing into his despairing heart.
Gert opened his eyes and saw a scene he would never forget for the rest of his life.
Before him was a blond youth with a gentle smile, shining like sunlight.
In that moment, he dazed, as if seeing a savior god.