"Mash, Lancelot is all yours!"
Under the scorching sun, in the middle of the wasteland, the wreckage of the Wooden Flying Chariot burned fiercely. Mash and Ritsuka had just climbed out of the crater their landing had created.
Protected by Mash's shield, they could survive a fall from ten thousand meters without injury, let alone a brief flight using the chariot's aerial function.
After withdrawing her sword and retreating, Guinevere entrusted Lancelot to Mash. Her gaze then swept toward Gawain and Agravain.
A two-on-one fight would be troublesome, but Guinevere wouldn't lose. She could quickly take Agravain's life, then get locked in a protracted battle with Gawain that would be difficult to win.
"Sir Agravain, thank you for bringing Sir Gawain with you. You may return to the city now. Go. I promise to let you stay by the Lion King's side until the very end."
Her current plan hadn't accounted for them, but since they were already here, what was the harm in offering a little "thanks"?
Unfortunately, Agravain and Gawain were close brothers, so this minor attempt at provocation had no effect.
Agravain raised his spear. Gawain drew his sword. But...
The evening bell tolled...
"Hmm? What's this?"
The scorching sun still hung high in the sky, yet dark clouds began to gather. As the evening bell rang, its sound seemed to come from everywhere, resonating directly in their hearts. Even those who wished to ignore it found themselves unable to shut it out.
"So early?"
Sheathing her sword, Guinevere muttered to herself.
She paid no mind to the frowning Agravain and Gawain, nor to Lancelot, who was already battling Mash.
She knew First Hassan had promised that once the Chaldea group learned everything from the Atlas Institute, he would strike down Gawain.
The evening bell had tolled earlier than Guinevere expected, but this was merely him fulfilling his promise.
Just as the first chime faded and dark clouds obscured the scorching sun...
A man appeared, striding openly into view. He was powerfully built, standing over two meters tall, his head covered by a horned skull mask. Clad in black armor and a black cloak, he wielded a great sword.
He walked with steady, deliberate steps, making no attempt to conceal his arrival.
"Who are you?"
"Hassan-i Sabbah."
The Hassan-i Sabbah Order had spanned nineteen generations, including the Hassan of Intoxicated Smoke, the Hassan of the Hundred Faces, the Hassan of the Cursed Arm, and the Hassan of Serenity. Yet only the First Hassan could introduce himself with that name alone.
Or was it the Doom Star he sensed shining? Gawain's sword tip instinctively turned toward First Hassan, and he looked ready to unleash The Sword of Revolving Victory.
"Hmph, so it's just another mere Assassin!"
Even with the Nightlessness blessing, even with his stats tripled under the midday sun, Gawain couldn't dispel the bone-chilling cold that the Death Knell had instilled in his heart.
"Your Grace, First Hassan," Guinevere began, "I know Gawain's life is your promised price to Hassan of Intoxicated Smoke. But he is still a Knight of the Round Table, and only a Knight of the Round Table may claim his life.
"So, I must humbly ask you this: would you be willing to grant my shameless request? I ask that you only sever the Nightlessness blessing from Gawain and leave his life—and his sins—to me."
First Hassan remained silent, unmoved by Gawain's taunts or Guinevere's plea. He continued his steady advance, raising his sword in a single, fluid motion.
In that one movement alone, Guinevere glimpsed the future path of her own swordsmanship. She saw that her skills were still far from their limit.
It was a sword style more flawless than Lancelot's, condensing countless understandings of the blade into a single, perfect form.
This sword declared death, and none could escape.
However, to face this sword directly, Guinevere had at least one option: unleashing Avalon, the scabbard of absolute defense.
Of course, Avalon was not in Guinevere's possession at this moment.
So, she could only watch First Hassan's advance, thinking that if he insisted on taking Gawain's life, she would have no choice but to try and avenge him.
It was unreasonable, a blatant display of favoritism, but if she simply stood by and did nothing after Gawain was killed, Guinevere knew she would never find peace.
Yet, how could Guinevere's words possibly sway First Hassan from the prey he had chosen?
He continued his relentless approach, steadily increasing the pressure of death upon Gawain.
During this time, Gawain stopped Agravain from joining him and, after hearing Guinevere's words, let out a calm breath.
"So, I can still be considered a Knight of the Round Table? Then let me, in this final moment, face a duel to the death as a Knight of the Round Table once more."
"Ruler, Queen, this is a one-on-one duel between myself and Lord Hassan. There is nothing dishonorable that could tarnish a knight's honor. If I die, you need not avenge me."
For the Lion King's will, Gawain had chosen loyalty, betraying the knightly code he had always upheld.
Because of this, Guinevere had never seen him smile since they first met. But now, he was smiling. His breathing was calm, and he could face death with tranquility.
"Queen, with you here, the King will eventually be corrected. So, we can die in peace.
"Did you know? Those were Mordred's last words to us. She trusted you, and after spending dozens of days together, we came to trust her too. She was a worthy knight who truly revered the King!"
As he spoke, First Hassan drew very close to Gawain. The chill in his heart intensified, but as he faced Gawain—body slightly bowed, fully prepared to unleash The Sword of Revolving Victory...
First Hassan halted his advance and allowed Azrael to begin glowing in his hand.
At that moment, the second bell tolled, and First Hassan posed his final question to Gawain:
"Listen to this bell. It tolls the end of your fate..."
First Hassan's voice was incredibly deep. As he spoke, his sword descended, allowing him to 'slip' into the beam of light from Gawain's attack—a blast capable of incinerating everything.
When the beam shot into the sky, scattering sunlight across the land, Guinevere raised her sword again, and Agravain leveled his spear at First Hassan.
But their eyes were fixed on Gawain's liberated smile and First Hassan's towering figure vanishing into thin air.
It could only be said that Guinevere, in her Ruler Class, was still leagues below a Grand Servant.
She knew she couldn't win against First Hassan's Angel of Death, nor could she, even with her senses fully extended, detect where he had disappeared.
"A Ruler can't win, and a Caster probably can't either. So... can I only rely on my Saber or Berserker forms? When I used my Caster Noble Phantasm to switch forms, those two were my strongest."
She had watched First Hassan take Gawain's life. She had watched First Hassan 'escape' and vanish.
Guinevere was lamenting her current body's lack of strength, but she was also making excuses for herself.
She knew full well that in her Saber Class, she was a Grand Candidate, and in her Berserker Class, she genuinely held the Grand title.
"Hah..."
Guinevere exhaled, suppressing the frustration in her heart. First Hassan had shown her no deference, but Gawain's final words, relaying Mordred's message, had brought her enough joy to compensate.
She glanced at Mash and Lancelot—they were still fighting.
Then she looked at Agravain...
Ah, no need for words. Agravain silently sheathed his weapon and began walking back toward the Lion King.
But on his face, Guinevere saw a smile—as if, in his heart, Agravain had already glimpsed the moment of his own liberation.