"Mash, Mash, what do you think? Feeling jealous?"
"Jealous? What's that? Besides, if I got jealous every time, I'd have burned out long ago. Senpai is always like this."
"Exactly! This is just the prelude to a new romance!"
Inside the prison, Guinevere silently thought, Thanks for the show. She was only disappointed that even with her prodding, Mash truly felt no jealousy.
Even Dr. Romani, appearing via projection, wore an unfazed expression, as if this were nothing out of the ordinary.
"Wait, this is bad! This is no time to be savoring the moment! A powerful Servant is on their way! Ritsuka, get up, now!"
From Chaldea, Dr. Romani's primary role was to monitor the "battlefield" and provide as much intelligence support as possible. His sudden outburst meant he had detected an approaching Servant.
Startled by his urgent warning, Hundred Faces was the first to dash out, gesturing for Guinevere and the others to follow quickly.
She had already noticed that Ritsuka, despite swallowing a lethal poison, hadn't died. In fact, her heartbeat was gradually stabilizing.
Just as Hundred Faces vanished, Serenity—still blaming herself for accidentally knocking off her mask—was caught off guard. The rebooted Ritsuka had regained her senses. She licked her lips lightly, took in Serenity's adorable appearance, and, to the assassin's astonishment, kissed her back fiercely.
"Mash, still not jealous?"
"I told you, I don't know what jealousy is. Right now, all I feel is pure, intense murderous intent toward Senpai! The enemy is almost here, and she's still doing this!"
I'd love to call this jealousy, Guinevere thought, but I dislike forcing emotional matters to a head. Besides, Mash's innocent expression brought a quiet delight to her heart.
After all, Guinevere was the kind of person who could be summoned by Ryuunosuke Uryuu based on compatibility alone. That man was essentially a Kirei Kotomine who had completely unleashed his desires.
"Anyway, thanks to the Master-Servant contract and your shield, Ritsuka has poison resistance, right?"
"Yes! Senpai even endured the poisonous fog of London! So, Ruler, why are you blocking me? Let me go pull Senpai away!"
"Ahem. I just thought... this would be more amusing."
When Guinevere's malicious side surfaced, it was truly wicked. She didn't know how potent London's fog was, nor how many other abilities Ritsuka had gained from her contract with Mash.
She was simply curious whether Ritsuka had also inherited any abilities from her contract.
"Speaking of which, if Ritsuka gains abilities from every Servant she contracts with, wouldn't she become the strongest of all once she has enough Servants? And what do you think she inherited from me?"
"Ahem. Ritsuka's aptitude as a Mage is indeed excellent, but she can't possibly keep contracting indefinitely."
"But she is maintaining dozens of Servant contracts, isn't she?"
Dr. Romani couldn't answer Guinevere's question. He could only scratch his head and say with a resigned sigh, "Perhaps this is the special nature of humanity's final Master, chosen by the Human Order itself."
To be fair, Guinevere and the others hadn't bothered to lower their voices. After a long, breathless kiss, Ritsuka helped Serenity to her feet.
To make the normally healthy-skinned Hassan of Serenity blush so deeply... Ritsuka truly was something else!
"Mash, Ruler, and Dr. Romani, I heard everything you just said," Ritsuka announced. "The ability I inherited from Ruler is probably an intense lust for cute girls."
Mash's jaw dropped slightly, but she couldn't even bring herself to retort. Her Senpai had always been like this, utterly powerless against girls of any type.
In Mash's view, whatever Ritsuka had inherited from Guinevere, it definitely wasn't lust.
But these personality traits were impossible to verify. And with the battle starting on the surface, it was no time to linger underground chatting.
Ritsuka carried the heavily injured Hassan of Serenity, whose thoughts were now unreadable. Mash watched over them, staying a step behind. Guinevere, struck by an idea, had already returned to the surface, where she parried the swords of two Enforcement Knights with a single strike.
It was indeed Agravain. The Hassan of the Hundred Faces' intelligence had been correct.
But Agravain hadn't come alone. He had brought two hundred Enforcement Knights with him.
"It hasn't been that long, Sir Agravain. Why do you still look like everyone owes you money?"
Clad in black hair and black armor, with a blue cloak trimmed in white fur, the helmetless knight's handsome face was marred by brows furrowed as sharply as blades.
"Queen," Agravain's voice was cold, "do you not think it disrespectful to the King to wear his body while displaying such an unseemly smile?"
Being called "Queen" again after so long caught Guinevere off guard. But Agravain didn't press the attack, and her momentary lapse was just that—a moment.
After a moment, Guinevere's smile widened. She dismissed her armor and used her mana to conjure a modern outfit—one Lia would have loved.
Hot pants, a jacket, and a baseball bat. A long ahoge poked out from the hole in a backward-worn baseball cap. This version of the King of Knights was clearly even less dignified.
"Sir Agravain," Guinevere's voice dripped with playful challenge, "let me ask you: don't you want to see the King smile brightly, like an ordinary girl? In my world, your other self adored the King's smile."
It was a deliberately dazzling smile, which then softened into a natural one. This smile from the King of Knights made Agravain clench his fists and sent a wave of murmurs through the Enforcement Knights behind him.
During this exchange, the Hassan of the Hundred Faces and Tawara Touta, who had been spared, moved to her side. The soldiers who had previously switched allegiances formed a defensive line, bracing themselves for a desperate battle.
"Sir Agravain," Guinevere continued, her tone mocking, "you brought so many men. You must have intended to wipe us out in one fell swoop. So why haven't you attacked yet? Why are you still listening to my nonsense?"
Agravain's fists clenched and unclenched. He couldn't deny her question, and a faint pang of envy for his other self stirred within him.
'To see the King's smile every day... My other self has it far too good!'
With this thought weighing on his mind, Agravain listened to Guinevere's challenge, let out a long breath, and finally spoke.
"I didn't know it was you. I was merely here to spring the trap. Queen, please tell me: can you truly correct the Lion King?"
Hearing this, Guinevere froze again, unable to believe Agravain would utter words that sounded so close to treason.
"Of course," she replied, her confidence absolute. "I have one hundred percent faith in myself."
"Then prove it to me first. Even if I and every Enforcement Knight present were to fight together, we would not survive a single strike from the Lion King's spear."
Agravain called her "Queen" and the ruler of New Camelot "the Lion King." The implied disapproval was unmistakable.
Until now, they had acted out of loyalty to their King, even if it meant abandoning all knightly honor.
But things were different now. Tristan, so ashamed to face Guinevere that he had disfigured himself; Mordred, who had outright rebelled; Gawain, growing ever more somber; Lancelot, who had descended into madness once more...
Guinevere's appearance had changed them all, causing them to harbor expectations they never thought they'd have for the one who was no longer the King they once knew.
Deep down, they had all asked themselves...
'Is the Lion King truly right?'
"We were once the Knights of the King of Knights. Now, we are the Knights of the Lion King. But if we could choose, we would still wish to be the Knights of the King of Knights!
"Queen of the King of Knights, Your Highness Guinevere, I implore you! Prove to us—prove that you truly have the power to correct our King!"
For some reason, Agravain's tone was almost pleading. As his voice faded, the Enforcement Knights withdrew from the fortress, forming ranks on the barren plains. Agravain retreated with them, taking his place as their commander.
By duty, he was not a knight who charged into the fray. But if necessary, he would not fail the name of Sir Agravain of Iron—one of the top thirteen Round Table Knights and Chief Advisor to the King of Knights.