"Miss Ruler, are you truly not going to conceal yourself at all?"
Year 1237 AD, Jerusalem Region...
After Guinevere and Bedivere were sent out of Avalon and arrived in this so-called Singularity, Guinevere's first reaction was that she was about to faint from the heat.
Scorching sun, yellow sand, high temperatures. Moreover, to prevent sunburn, she couldn't wear light clothing and had to endure a thick cloak while traveling.
Thus, after just a short walk, Guinevere used her [Saint] Skill to create clothing from the Holy Shroud that granted a cooling effect.
It was the same outfit her Lia had recently favored: hot pants, a thin shirt, and a short jacket. However, instead of blue, Guinevere chose her preferred color, black.
Now, while Bedivere remained clad in armor and a hooded robe, she skipped ahead like a young girl.
Unaffected by the blazing sun and heat, Guinevere had become a tourist enjoying the sights.
"Sir Bedivere, does this outfit truly not suit me?"
"No, Miss Ruler. What I mean is, with your appearance so exposed, your beauty will likely attract trouble. Also, my name is now Lucius."
"I know, Sir Bedivere," Guinevere replied, "but I believe your concealment is pointless. As a king, I have no intention of living like a rat scurrying through the streets.
"Sir Bedivere, hold your head high. You made a mistake, but you still possess the qualities and glory of a knight.
"Since you are a knight, then live like one!"
She turned, clasping her hands behind her back and leaning forward slightly, a natural smile on her face. Seeing this Artoria speak such words...
Bedivere's heart skipped another beat. He instinctively wanted to obey, to say "Yes, Your Majesty," but guilt seized him. The reality that the person before him was not his king crashed down, waking him from his daze.
He bowed in thanks but said no more, resolving in his heart to protect this smile as well.
Seeing his silence and refusal, Guinevere pouted but didn't press the matter. She knew she couldn't ease his burden of guilt just yet.
Under the scorching sun, across the seemingly endless desert, the two travelers continued their journey. They followed the route Merlin had given them, steadily advancing toward the center of this Lostbelt.
They walked in silence, as if gripped by boredom. But in reality, Guinevere would pause every so often, take out the [Rainbow Gem] Merlin had given her, and toy with it.
In another world, that Merlin couldn't transfer her while she was burdened with all the Black Mud, but he could send this creation of the Old Man of the Jewels here. Through this item, she, in this world, could communicate via text with people from the other world. They, in turn, were curious about what she saw and heard in this one.
Besides, Guinevere found the idea of talking to herself quite strange.
Furthermore, the Merlin of this world had integrated her contract into the gem, allowing her to sustain her existence by drawing on its endless mana. The reason for this was simple: this world's Merlin still refused to leave his tower, and Sir Bedivere, already near the end of his life, couldn't possibly support her.
"Hey, Lia," she muttered to the gem, "if we were both standing in front of you, who would you rather cuddle with? I'm not made of Black Mud, you know."
A reply instantly appeared: "Other me, shut up! Don't think I don't know what you're thinking! You're lucky enough to reside in Lia's body—be more grateful!"
Strictly speaking, the version on the Throne of Heroes is the true body, and all others are mere offshoots. Yet, while these offshoots are fundamentally the same person, they are also functionally independent individuals.
Guinevere found it unsettling to admit, but she wasn't the only one who could be summoned in different aspects. In fact, her Lia would surely have even more facets than she did.
At this thought, a possibility flashed through her mind: several versions of herself and several versions of Lia, all in the same room, and then...
"Ahem, what else could happen? Of course, they'd all merge into one!"
Some things were best not dwelled upon; the more you thought about them, the stranger they became. That was just the nature of Heroic Spirits and Servants.
Putting away the gem and ending her conversation with her other self for now, Ruler Guinevere felt a pang of jealousy. Here she was, trekking through the scorching sun, while her Caster self was enjoying academy life with Lia at the Clock Tower.
"That's why I shouldn't think about it too much," she told herself. "All I need to know is that we are all me. And besides, while my other self might get on Lia's nerves, I'm united with Lia every single second.
Hehe, ehehehe!"
These thoughts remained in her mind, but a snippet of laughter escaped her lips.
Behind her, hearing her laugh again, Bedivere resisted the urge to ask. The first time he'd inquired, she'd simply replied, "I just thought of something happy."
After that, he'd stopped asking.
But as Guinevere's laughter continued, the wind began to howl across the desert. A massive sandstorm, visible to the naked eye, swept toward them, blotting out the sun.
Guinevere's laughter died. She had no choice but to don her Holy Shroud Cloak to keep the swirling sand from filling her hair, mouth, and nose.
"Ruler, should we find shelter?" Bedivere asked.
"No, prepare for battle. Something's coming," she replied. "By the way, are we really heading in the opposite direction of Jerusalem?"
"I don't know. But as long as we keep moving forward, we're bound to run into someone who can guide us."
Just like in the other world, this Bedivere also had only one arm. To bolster his otherwise frail physique and to conceal the Excalibur he now wielded, Merlin had gifted him the divine arm of the Celtic war god, Nuada. This became his Noble Phantasm: the Silver Arm.
He kept this arm hidden, instead holding a common knight's longsword in his remaining hand. Stepping in front of Guinevere, he stood guard, wary of the "something" she had mentioned.
Before long, the sandstorm engulfed them. When the stinging sand made it impossible to keep their eyes open, they had to rely on their senses to perceive their surroundings.
As a Ruler, Guinevere's perception was greatly enhanced.
As she sensed a Magical Beast rapidly approaching, she also detected the familiar auras of several Servants. And from the side, a vehicle was speeding toward them—one that would likely reach those familiar presences before she and Bedivere could.
Sphinx—that was the type of Magical Beast. Hassan of the Hundred Faces, whom she had just fought to the death—that was the source of one of the familiar auras.
As for the vehicle, so out of place in this era... Guinevere thought for a moment and realized it must belong to the Human Order restorers from Chaldea.
"What a fateful encounter," she murmured with a soft laugh. "To run into them so soon."
Extending her perception further, she bypassed Bedivere and gestured for him to follow.
"Let's go. We've likely found the people from Chaldea."
Guinevere already knew everything about Chaldea. After Bedivere was awakened, Merlin had provided him with the same information.
According to Merlin, the Chaldea team was the key to atoning for his mistakes.
Filled with a mix of joy and the bitter frustration of having to let his Ruler lead the way, Bedivere replied, "Yes, my lady," and hurried to keep pace.