"Ruler," Ritsuka asked Guinevere, "do you really think Agravain will pass on your message? Will he truly side with us?"
It was the next day, and they were back in the East Village.
Overnight, thanks to Tawara Touta's Noble Phantasm that could produce endless rice, the villagers had finally enjoyed a meal that wasn't monster meat.
The night had turned into a feast. Tawara Touta was repeatedly tossed into the air in celebration, and some of the Mountain People's young women even offered to share their beds with him.
After the night of revelry, Guinevere stood at the highest point in the village, gazing toward New Camelot City.
"She had Agravain claim her strength was inferior to Lancelot's simply to lure him out and kill him. She didn't care where Lancelot began his mission."
Since their arrival, the Hassans had been preparing for the final battle. Throughout this Singularity, Mountain People were continuously guided to the various Hassan villages.
Under these circumstances, the locations of these villages would inevitably be discovered by New Camelot City.
"In my view," Guinevere continued, "whether the Lion King attacks depends entirely on her whim and whether she has knights under her command who are unafraid of my threat."
"Are you saying the Lion King has finally decided to act?" Ritsuka asked.
Thanks to her past life memories, Guinevere knew the Lion King would eventually move against the Mountain People; she just wasn't sure when.
Her primary motivation for luring Lancelot out was Mash. After realizing the depth of her rage toward Lancelot, Mash had insisted on challenging him to a one-on-one duel, even though she had no confidence in winning.
"Ritsuka," Guinevere said, changing the subject, "let's put that aside for now. What are your thoughts on the message Hassan of Intoxicated Smoke brought back at the cost of his life?"
Several days earlier, after Hassan of Intoxicated Smoke had returned to the East Village with both arms severed, Guinevere had taken on the task of seeking aid from the First Hassan.
Also last night, Hassan of the Cursed Arm found himself facing Hassan of Intoxicated Smoke's bloody mask and a farewell letter written in his own hand.
Only then did Guinevere recall some of the First Hassan's rules, and only then did Ritsuka and the others understand that Hassan of Intoxicated Smoke had gambled with his life.
"My blade is the death of the Old Man; my blade is the judgment of the Old Man."
This was the First Hassan's creed, which Cursed Arm recited after reading the letter.
"He is the Old Man of the Mountain among the Old Men of the Mountain—the one who slays the Old Men of the Mountain.
"When a successor Hassan becomes corrupt, falls from grace, or strays from their path, he appears before them to pronounce their death.
"By the same token, when an Old Man of the Mountain seeks his aid, it signifies that the petitioner is unworthy of the title. He will strip them of their mask and sever their head.
"However, Lord First Hassan is not without compassion. Hassan of Intoxicated Smoke secured his promise to intervene, and also obtained intelligence that will be of immense help to our cause."
In the letter, Hassan of Intoxicated Smoke mentioned the Atlas Institute, claiming it held the key to the Lion King's true intentions, the flaw in the Human Order, and the origin of everything.
He also wrote that once Chaldea grasped this truth, his blade would lead the charge in battle, and he would bring death to the Knight of the Sun who had slaughtered countless Mountain People.
The Atlas Institute, located within the Sun King's desert, remained a domain even the Sun King himself could not touch.
The whisper of the wind, the sound of laughter, and the clash of weapons from morning training—as the sun climbed higher, these sounds began to fill the ears of the two conversing.
The matter of the Atlas Institute was the top priority, whether to secure First Hassan's aid or to uncover intelligence on the Lion King's true intentions.
However, following the battle the night before last and Agravain's report of Guinevere's words, they had to be constantly prepared for an attack from Lancelot.
"Ruler... Mash, Da Vinci-chan, and I will go," Ritsuka said. "If Lancelot intercepts us, I'll summon you immediately."
Guinevere had also wanted to see the Atlas Institute. It was a Mage organization founded before the Common Era, a mystery even older than the Clock Tower she was connected to.
From her memories, the Atlas Institute primarily housed alchemists who had been forging weapons to avert the "end of the world." Legend claimed their arsenal had long surpassed the current era's technology—weapons that could save the world or destroy it.
"Alright," Guinevere sighed, setting aside her curiosity and accepting Ritsuka's decision. "I'll stay behind to guard against Lancelot."
After all, she was the one who had set the trap for Lancelot, and she alone was the decisive weapon capable of hunting him down.
Mash was confident and eager for a duel, but leaving her behind would only make everyone uneasy.
"But since I'm the one staying behind," Guinevere said, "you don't need to leave anyone else with me. Take Bedivere, Tawara Touta, and Hassan of Serenity with you."
She paused, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Speaking of which, Hassan of Serenity invited you, didn't she? Why didn't you go to her room?"
"Ruler, don't joke about that," Ritsuka replied, flustered. "Her first kiss was an attempt to kill me, and my kiss back was retaliation. We've only just met! How could I possibly jump straight to... deeply replenishing magic with her?"
She added, "Besides, her feelings for me aren't romantic. She's just never met a human who could withstand her poison before."
"Oh? So you do have some self-control after all," Guinevere chuckled. "It seems you didn't inherit my lecherous side."
Guinevere was only teasing. As smoke began to rise from the chimneys, the residents of the East Village started preparing breakfast.
With their plan set, Ritsuka's team would depart for the desert after the meal.
"Ritsuka, we still have some time," Guinevere said. "Why not use it for some knight training? I can teach you a few techniques, at the very least."
"Ruler, please do!"
Ritsuka Fujimaru was a diligent girl, always seizing any opportunity to grow stronger. The moment she agreed, her body began to experience the painful blows of Guinevere's Replica Holy Sword.
Guinevere used the flat of her blade, teaching Ritsuka the swordsmanship techniques she had honed herself.
"I can't speak for other opponents," Guinevere said, "but as long as you master these three strikes and your base stats aren't too far behind, then against any Knight of Camelot... you'll be able to last at least three strikes before you die!"
"Huh? Hey! Shouldn't it be defeating them in three strikes?" Ritsuka protested.
"Heh, don't get your hopes up," Guinevere scoffed. "Do you think I rely solely on swordsmanship? And do you really believe a Knight of Camelot can be killed by an ordinary person in just three strikes?"
"Then, Ruler, could you teach these three strikes to the Mountain People's warriors and the soldiers who've joined us? With these techniques..."
"Ritsuka, you truly are a good person."
The glint of swords flashed across the East Village's central drying ground. More and more people gathered to watch. Among them, Mash and Serenity winced in sympathy for Ritsuka, while most were simply enjoying the spectacle.
But when Ritsuka made her request, the expressions of the onlookers changed instantly. Several immediately bowed their heads to her in respect.
Of course, after thanking Ritsuka, they didn't forget to thank Guinevere, the master instructor.
"Hey, don't push your luck!" Guinevere exclaimed. "If you all start calling me 'Master,' I'll have to teach you even more, won't I?"
Despite her words, Guinevere also wanted more of the Mountain People to survive. This, too, would help atone for the Lion King's sins.
"Alright, enough dithering! For now, let's eat. After the meal, I will train you using the fastest—and most brutal—methods!"
Her golden hair shone in the sunlight. In her long blue dress, the "King of Knights" truly commanded the respect of a monarch, compelling all to bow.