There was no longer any room for doubt. The speed with which the doors to the Queen's chambers were thrown open at Lancelot's touch suggested this was no first-time occurrence; it was a path worn smooth by repetition.
Once we confirmed that Lancelot had vanished into the darkness of the room, we emerged from the shadows of the shrubbery and took our positions before the threshold. Sir Kay and Sir Agravain followed suit, stepping out from behind the trees to join us. We had already deliberated on our course of action. Following a silent signal—a grim nod shared between us—we stifled our presences and closed in on the door.
Then, the sounds reached us. Faint but unmistakable, they were the whispers and sighs of an intimacy that should have been forbidden. At those sounds, the expressions of every knight present hardened into stone.
Agravain, his body trembling with a volcanic rage, looked as though a vengeful demon had possessed him. With a snarl, he reached for the handle. Finding the door bolted, he did not hesitate. He funneled his magical energy into a focused Prana Burst, shattering the reinforced wood into splinters.
The scene of adultery was laid bare. Sir Lancelot, caught in the midst of his betrayal upon the royal bed, looked toward us with an expression of pure horror. Seeing him there, stripped of his armor and his honor, a white-hot fury surged within my own chest.
"A-Agravain... Elius..." Lancelot stammered.
"Silence, Sir Lancelot," Agravain spat, his voice freezing with concentrated loathing. "I have always known you to be a scoundrel who would pursue any skirt that caught your eye... but I never imagined your depravity would extend even to the King's own consort."
Lancelot's eyes drifted to those of us standing behind Agravain, his face paling as the gravity of his discovery settled upon him. Seeing that look of devastation only seemed to further incense Agravain.
"A Knight of the Round Table! A man who pledged his sword and soul to the King! Above all others, you were meant to be the King's pillar... and yet you dare! You dare take your lord's own wife?!"
Agravain turned his blistering gaze toward Guinevere, who was desperately trying to shroud herself in the bedclothes. "And you... a Queen, who should have been the epitome of purity and the King's greatest support... you spend your nights with a knight? Have you lost your mind? What Queen in her right senses would commit such an atrocity!"
Lancelot's face hardened at the insult. He glared back at Agravain. "Do not speak so carelessly, Agravain. You know nothing of the Queen's loneliness!"
Hearing Lancelot wag his tongue in such a manner, utterly oblivious to the ruin he had wrought, I could no longer remain silent.
"Sir Lancelot. I suggest you hold your peace. Do you truly not grasp the magnitude of your sin? You have touched the Queen of this nation. This is a crime for which summary execution is the only legal recourse. Right now, there is no justification in the world that can wash away your guilt. Do you understand that?"
Lancelot's mouth clamped shut at my rebuke. I turned my gaze toward Guinevere, my eyes as cold as Agravain's.
"I trusted you, Your Majesty. I believed in you because I saw you striving for the King's sake. I saw you wandering alone late into the night, searching for a husband who refused to return to his bed. It was because of that belief that I defended you against Sir Agravain's suspicions. I told him it was surely a misunderstanding—that it was impossible. And yet... is this the reward for my faith? You have made a fool of me."
Guinevere bowed her head, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. I turned away and issued a low, grim decree.
"As of this moment, Sir Lancelot is under arrest for treason. Her Majesty, Queen Guinevere, shall be detained on the charge of adultery. Sir Kay, secure Lancelot. Sir Bedivere, I ask that you escort the Queen."
With somber faces, Bedivere and Kay stepped forward. Bedivere gathered Guinevere's scattered garments and handed them to her with averted eyes, while Kay began to bind Lancelot, who was now barely clad. As Guinevere rose from the bed to follow Bedivere, she passed Agravain. He spoke, his voice dripping with venom.
"A Queen acting like a common harlot... It disgusts me to think I ever served a person such as you. No, in truth, you were never fit to be King Arthur's bride. Such a woman should never have been crowned."
"...Agravain!" Lancelot roared.
With a burst of frantic strength, Lancelot threw Sir Kay aside and tore through his bindings as if they were wet parchment. He lunged for his sword, Arondight. Panicked, I instinctively reached for the hilt of my own blade, Excalibur Twilight.
But Lancelot was faster. Prana swirled around his blade, the light of the lake manifesting in a blinding, violent radiance. Realizing it was the prelude to a True Name Release, my heart leaped in my chest. Before I could even draw my steel, Lancelot leveled his sword at Agravain.
Agravain stood frozen, caught off guard by the sheer madness of a knight turning a Divine Construct against his own comrades. Realizing there was no time to stop the activation, I threw myself forward and shoved Agravain aside.
In that same heartbeat, Lancelot roared the name of his blade.
"Arondight Overload!"
"—Too slow!" I hissed.
A concentrated wave of light—the compressed radiance of the Unfettered Lake—surged toward me. There was no room to dodge. I flooded my sword with prana and reinforced my body to its absolute limit through Prana Burst, bracing for the impact. The shockwave hit me head-on.
The force shattered the remains of the doorway and sent me flying. I tumbled through the air and crashed onto the stone path of the garden outside, rolling several times before coming to a jagged halt.
"Cough! Urgh..."
My head throbbed with a deafening ringing, and the world spun violently. The copper taste of blood filled my mouth. I spat onto the grass, a low groan escaping me as every nerve in my body screamed in agony. As a sister-blade to Excalibur, the sheer destructive power of Arondight was overwhelming. The strike, unleashed at point-blank range, had bypassed even the reinforced durability I gained from absorbing Vortigern's blood, wreaking havoc on my internal organs.
I truly feel like I'm going to die.
Bedivere, who had been leading Guinevere away, rushed to my side. "What in the name of... Sir Elius! Are you alright?!"
"Cough... I am fine, Sir Bedivere," I managed, using Twilight as a crutch to heave myself upright.
Bedivere looked at me with deep concern. "You look anything but fine. And that light just now..."
"...Lancelot has released the True Name of his blade. He has lost his reason. Quickly, take the Queen and flee this place, Sir."
"...I understand," Bedivere replied with a grim nod. He hoisted the Queen onto his shoulder and moved away with practiced haste.
I turned back toward the entrance of the chambers. Lancelot was emerging, his eyes vacant and bloodshot. In his hand, he held Arondight. The holy sword, stained by its master's betrayal, had lost its divine luster and began to seep with the dark, oppressive aura of a Demonic Sword.
"How far... do you intend to fall, Lancelot?" I asked, my voice trembling with exhaustion and anger.
"—Guine... Guinevere!"
He was beyond words. Seeing Bedivere retreating with the Queen, Lancelot attempted to give chase. I stepped into his path, bracing my blade. He swung at me with a wild, feral strength.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The sound echoing through the garden was not the ring of steel, but the thunderous roar of colliding forces. In peak condition, my technical skill might have surpassed his, but I was currently battered by his Noble Phantasm. Furthermore, Arondight possessed a dragon-slaying attribute—a fatal counter to someone like me who possessed a Dragon's Magic Core.
I had to trade flesh for bone. I abandoned my defense entirely.
Lancelot's blade tore through my side. I winced—it burned like ice—but I didn't flinch. As his blade sank into my flank, he left his head exposed. I gathered every scrap of prana I had left and delivered a punishing blow to his temple.
Lancelot crumpled, unconscious before he hit the ground. Bastard.
In a fit of pique, I gave his prone form a sharp kick, but the exertion made my vision swim. I was losing too much blood. I sank down, leaning my back against a tree, and watched a flash of golden hair racing toward me in the distance.
She must have heard the commotion. Or perhaps Bedivere reached her? If I had known Artoria would arrive so quickly, I would have focused on stalling. I looked up at her shocked face and let out a weak, bloody chuckle. *You're late, Artoria.*
The darkness of exhaustion began to cloud my vision. Artoria reached me, her face pale with horror.
"What... Eli! What happened here? What is this?!"
"...Cough. Lancelot... he's done it now... Bedivere will explain... for now... I'm going to sleep. I'm just... so tired."
"What are you saying?! Wake up, Eli! You must stay with me! Do not close your eyes!"
I could hear Artoria calling my name, her voice frantic and high. But the pull of sleep was a tide I could no longer fight. With her voice as my final anchor, I slipped into the dark.
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To a fresh, warm newbie who has just started playing and only recently cleared Fuyuki... she answered. She answered my call... she responded to the free Saint Quartz...
Sakura Saber has answered me!!!
Raise the cups! Victory is mine!
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