"Guinevere, isn't this all a bit of a farce?"
"But that old coot Merlin said this would be enough."
After the bonfire gathering that night, the governance of Camelot was gradually transferred into Mordred's hands.
Three years later, the nations of Europe formally announced their secession from Camelot's nominal rule.
As planned, the King of Knights personally led five hundred knights to Gaul to assist in a punitive expedition. To the outside world, however, the official story was that the King of Knights had marched to punish the Grand Duke of Gaul, Lancelot.
The campaign was a success. However, Camelot was suffering from a generational gap in its knightly ranks, while the European nations, leveraging their sheer numbers, had managed to muster several thousand knights. In essence, the King of Knights single-handedly defeated all the enemy nations.
She then issued a challenge, spending a week inviting these thousands of enemy knights to single combat, subjugating each and every one of them.
Consequently, the European nations withdrew their forces, deciding to wait until the King of Knights' era had passed.
It was during the King of Knights' return journey that she was "betrayed" by Mordred. According to unofficial histories, both father and son met their end at Camlann Hill.
In reality, the "father and son" merely had a serious duel, which was actually a well-executed squad drill performed before a crowd of onlookers. This finally earned Mordred the last measure of recognition she needed.
Afterward, the King of Knights announced before all her knights that Camelot was now entrusted to Mordred, granting her full authority to implement any reforms she wished.
Thus, according to Guinevere's plan, the Kingdom of Camelot fell, and a new kingdom rose in its place. Mordred, now under a new name, became the new King of the British Isles.
Meanwhile, by the lake outside Avalon, the King of Knights—who, according to unofficial histories, had already died—held the Holy Sword, preparing to place it on a small boat.
Having relinquished her crown, Artoria intended to return the Holy Sword to the faeries of Avalon.
It was only because Guinevere couldn't bear to part with the replica sword and its scabbard that she hadn't returned them sooner.
"I say, are you sure you don't want to keep it?"
"Guinevere, weren't you curious to see what I'd look like when I grew up? And you said you hoped we could grow old together, and on the last day of our lives, we'd find a cliff to watch the final sunrise together."
If a life is lived to the fullest, one lifetime is enough.
Upon hearing Artoria's words, Guinevere placed the youth-preserving scabbard on the boat, keeping only the Replica Holy Sword, which was nothing more than a weapon.
"Alright, I'll grow old with you. But I'm not returning my sword to the faeries of Avalon. We're going to travel the world, and I still need to protect you!"
"It's I who'll be protecting you. I've given up the Holy Sword, but I haven't given up the Holy Lance. Guinevere, shall we mount up? Where do you want to go for our first stop?"
As Artoria and Guinevere turned away, the small boat carrying the sword and replica scabbard began to move on its own, gliding toward the mist-shrouded center of the lake.
Sensing the boat's strange movement, they both glanced back. Merlin was standing on it, cradling a peculiar small creature in his arms.
"Old Man Merlin, you don't expect us to take that Beast with us, do you?"
On the boat, Merlin smiled at Guinevere's pointed emphasis, surprised that she knew what the small creature in his arms was.
His eyes glazed over for a moment, and he saw a vision of the distant future: Guinevere meeting the creature in his arms once again.
And even then, Guinevere was still human.
'Was it dissatisfaction with this life, or did you manage to acquire a physical body again after being forcibly summoned by some Counter Force?'
Merlin mused silently, but he offered no prophecy for this future, nearly fifteen hundred years away.
He accepted the sword and scabbard, then casually tossed the small creature from his arms into the lake below, letting it struggle and gradually sink to the bottom.
"Lia, Guinevere, I just came to see you off and release this little beast. Don't worry about it—its life force is incredibly resilient. It'll still be alive long after you're both dead!"
Sometimes, Merlin was just asking for a beating. Like right now.
"Merlin! Go to hell!"
"Fou! Fou!"
Raising her Replica Holy Sword, Guinevere unleashed its power. At the same moment, the small creature that had sunk into the lake shot out of the water, kicking Merlin's head just as he dissolved into flower petals. The creature itself was then engulfed by the release of Guinevere's Holy Sword.
"Cough, cough... Lia, let's go. Don't look back. This is all Merlin's fault. For the first stop on our journey, how about we visit the far East?"
Beyond Avalon lay the lake. Beyond the lake, a forest. And beyond the forest, more than thirty people—including Mordred, Morgan, Lancelot, Bedivere, and Tristan—were waiting.
They had already said their farewells, but they all knew this parting might be their last.
As Mordred threw herself into her father's arms, crying like a child for the last time, Morgan stood before Guinevere with a complex expression.
"Take this."
Dressed in her usual simple long gown and veiled in black, Morgan offered a Magic-Sealing Necklace—the very same item Guinevere had once used on her.
"If you're not coming with us, you should keep it as a memento."
"Enough nonsense. Just take it. I've imbued it with my thoughts. Guinevere, I have a feeling you might travel to the Great Britain of another world. If you do, and if the 'me' of that time is still young... please, will you help her? Don't let her heart be consumed by twenty years of hatred."
Beneath her veil, Morgan's expression was utterly serious. She couldn't explain this premonition, but she felt certain that one day, Guinevere would meet her younger self.
Meeting her gaze, Guinevere solemnly accepted the necklace, realizing the possibility herself.
"Lady Morgan, if that day truly comes, I swear I will prevent her from being consumed by hatred. This is my vow to you, and my thanks for the countless times you've helped me."
"Good."
Having received the promise she wanted, Morgan stopped wasting words. She turned to Artoria with an even more complex gaze, walked to her side, and said:
"My foolish little sister, when you die, I will row you to Avalon."
As she spoke, even Morgan herself didn't know why she had said it. Just as Mordred's face flushed red, about to whine and beg her mother not to spoil the mood on this day...
Guinevere wrapped her arms around Morgan's neck from behind, playfully interrupting, "Lady Morgan, what about me? Will you row me to Avalon too? I want to be buried with Lia!"
"Hmph, forget it. I'll just find some random village in the Welsh mountains and bury you there!"
"Hey! Even if you don't want to, you don't have to bury me in the middle of nowhere, do you?"
Banter, farewells—in the blink of an eye, a lifetime reached its end.
On the cliffside, bathed in the morning sun, two white-haired old women held hands tightly, fingers intertwined, as they welcomed the end of their lives together.
"Lia, are you satisfied with a life spent with me?"
"Guinevere, are you satisfied with a life where your achievements were hidden, and you were ultimately condemned as a disastrous queen?"
"Lia, this was my choice. Are you...?"
"Yes. I'm indignant on your behalf."
"Pfft. You're still saying things like that at over ninety years old."
"Well, Lia, do you think you'll become a Heroic Spirit, or will you wait for me in Avalon?"
"Rest assured. No matter how much time passes, I will find you again and ask you to be my Queen."
"Lia, next time, it'll be my turn to find you! You have no idea how many Heroic Spirits with your face there are in the future."
The old voice chattered on, its spirit as youthful as ever.
As the morning sun fully rose, Guinevere and the King of Knights met the end of their lives.
And in her final moments, Guinevere clearly heard a voice offering her a contract.
The Throne of Heroes, just as she had anticipated, opened its gates to her.