Mordred looked up at the sky blankly. Bedivere and Lionel were dead. He didn’t think he would have been able to save them, anyway. Mordred would’ve been running wild at the very front, and Bedivere and Lionel had been closer to the rear. He wouldn’t have been able to reach them to protect them. Despite thinking so, he thought that perhaps if he had been on the front line, his instincts might have given him a chance to save them somehow. He felt a deep regret, and all he could do was stare blankly at the sky. Why did his heart still race with an ominous feeling?
* * *
Caradoc did not cry when he saw his two comrades, returned as cold corpses. More precisely, he couldn’t cry.
"It is not your fault. On the front line, the Witch of Sloth and the Witch of Envy caused a diversion. With our forces distracted, the Witch of Greed and the Witch of Lust helped the enemy special forces penetrate deep into the rear. It is only natural that you did not notice." said Gwalchavad.
Caradoc nodded. "Yes, I know. I am not omnipotent. I am just a single schemer. I am… I am… Just a lowly schemer."
Lancelot patted Caradoc on the shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up too much. Sir Bedivere and Sir Lionel will make fun of you in the afterlife."
Caradoc managed to put on a distorted smile. "I didn't know our Vice-captain could make such a joke. Sounds like something Sir Mordred would say."
"I must have been influenced by him, too!" Lancelot replied.
Caradoc then thought perhaps Mordred could have stopped the enemy if he had been on the front line. However, dwelling on the past was useless. Caradoc needed to focus on the future.
"What happened to the head of the great warriors and his supporters?" asked Caradoc.
Gwalchavad answered, "Most of the Giant warriors in the special forces were killed. Once they dispersed and we engaged with them in an endurance battle, even the barbaric and strong Giants had to give in eventually. The damage was minimal."
"What about the head of the great warriors?"
"… He is still on the run. Twenty of us are in pursuit, including Sir Tristan. As for the witches, Sir Yvain and Sir Ovain are in pursuit along with the professional witch hunting unit."
In the hands of Tristan and the witch hunters, they certainly wouldn’t lose their enemies’ trail.
"Since there are two great witches, it will likely take a longer time on the twin’s side. If the twins catch up to them, tell them to bring me their heads."
Caradoc's eyes were filled with cold anger.
"Sir Lancelot."
"Say it."
"Call Sir Percival. I kept it to myself as long as possible for the sake of security, but I will tell all three of you my future plans so that there will be no problem even if I die."
He was no longer willing to run away, leaving comrades behind just out of fear of an unknown traitor.
* * *
The Giant's great warrior leader, Jabal, swung his sword.
Clang-!
The arrow of light broke apart on the blade covered in strong aura.
"It's the worst. Why is the Grim Reaper, who supports the Blood Red Crow, pursuing me.”
Among the Giants, ‘Blood Red Crow’ was the nickname for Mordred, and ‘Grim Reaper’ was the nickname for Tristan. Not all the knights had nicknames, but Mordred and Tristan had earned them. When Mordred appeared alone on the battlefield, Tristan always followed. Sometimes Tristan’s arrows would claim more Giant warriors than Mordred. Jabal thought Tristan was a worthy final opponent.
"How many Knights of the Round Table have I taken care of on this operation? Thirteen? That's not bad.”
During their escape, he had seriously weakened the Knights of the Round Table, including Bedivere and Lionel, who had died by his hand. He hoped that at least one of the seriously injured would eventually die, but since there were so many priests in the Holy Kingdom, they would likely be saved. However, since their bodies would no longer be able to withstand the power of the Holy tribe, they would have no choice but to retire.
Jabal suddenly sensed the presence of the Knights of the Round Table surrounding him. He stopped running away and began laughing, facing the southeast.
"Hahaha! It’s said that the Grim Reaper approaches without a trace and shoots his arrows, but it seems he is quite angry today. I can feel his killing intent even from this distance! Is it because he’s still a rookie?!"
Despite the provocation, Tristan did not say a word and answered with a barrage of arrows instead. Jabal wanted to fight to the death like a warrior, but Tristan didn't seem to have any intention of fulfilling that wish. Jabal broke into a cold sweat as he swept away each arrow with his sword. Each arrow flew faster than he could visually perceive. Nevertheless, he continued to slice through them. If he couldn’t do this much, at least temporarily, he wouldn't have been able to become the head of the great warriors. But it wasn't long before he reached his limit. He had already been injured while running away, and he hadn’t had water or food for several days.
"O King, please achieve what you wish for."
An arrow pierced through Jabal’s heart as he swung his sword one final time, on behalf of the Giant tribe king who had sent him off to die. Tristan slowly approached the collapsed Jabal, his hand dripping blood from pulling his bowstring.
* * *
As time went by, battles took place every day, both in the east and the west. The enemies attacked as if this was their final opportunity, replenishing their forces and fighting more viciously. The number of deaths this year was higher than the number of deaths in the previous decade, but the front line remained locked in place. It was the Giants that grew more anxious over time, but the Holy Kingdom did not have much room to relax either.
Then one day, the Crows sent a message saying that they would send an envoy. The results of the former Holy King constantly working behind the scenes to improve relations with the Crow tribe came to fruition in Arietta's generation.
"I will greet the envoy myself. The reception site will be the ancient castle in the Alps." said Arietta.
The distance from the Olympus Forest to the capital was shorter, but they met in the Alps for one simple reason: many in the capital still remembered how three great houses and five fortresses had disappeared twenty years prior due to the Crow tribe. Many ministers and nobles were reluctant to let them into the capital city, so they decided the best meeting place would be the ancient castle.
The ancient castle, which was used as a military base, was not only a workshop for Merlin, but also a front yard for the Butterfly tribe. With those factors in mind, even the Crows would stay peaceful. Mordred thought this was a stupid thing to consider, but he didn't bother to say it. He would put his life on the line to protect Arietta, so it didn’t matter to him. Merlin created a teleportation magic circle to the ancient castle, and Arietta followed behind him and Euss, who had become the head of the servants.
"Long time no see. It's only been a little over half a year, but I have missed you." Mordred said to her.
Arietta, feeling the same way, nodded.
It had been a long time since she had visited the ancient castle, and there were few knights guarding it. The other knights were busy roaming around the front lines to cope with the Giants’ massive offensive. Still, there were some familiar faces.
"Your Majesty the Holy Queen! Mordred!
Tristan smiled brightly and welcomed Arietta and Mordred.
"Tristan! You punk! Long time no see!" Mordred grinned and put his arm around Tristan’s shoulders. Looking down, he noticed Tristan’s hand was wrapped in a bandage. "What happened there?"
Tristan smiled bitterly. "I pushed myself a little too hard. I'll get better after some rest."
Mordred instinctively knew how Tristan’s hand had been injured. Tristan gave Mordred a flick and smiled. "Well, thanks to this, our stiff captain sent me here to take a rest and escort Her Majesty the Holy Queen."
"Ahahaha! Well, good to have someone around I can trust."
"Thanks for your kind words. Oh, I have been informed that the Crow envoy will be coming soon. Let's get moving."
Tristan led Arietta and Mordred into the reception room.
* * *
The Witch of Greed and the Witch of Envy ran through the forest, breathing hoarsely. All the witches who had been deployed to sneak the Giant special forces into the rear of the Holy Kingdom’s front line had already been killed at the hands of the accursed witch hunting unit.
"Hehehe! Where are they going?"
"Hahaha! Maybe they’re running away?"
The hunters’ playful voices echoed creepily through the dense foliage.
"Did they catch up already? We were almost there!" The Witch of Greed lamented.
Yvain and Ovain were known to be a natural enemy to the witches with their keen ability to influence magic. When they were attacked with magic, it never went towards them. It always redirected back towards the caster, or sometimes the mana within the attack would explode. The power given to them by the Holy tribe was likely the ability to kill magicians.
"It would be much better to deal with Lancelot, the anti-magician."
Against an anti-magician, direct attacks didn’t work, but there was still a way to deal with them. However, Yvain and Ovain not only prevented the expression of magic itself, but also interfered with mana, so there was no way to defeat them with magic alone. However, the Witches of Greed and Envy were powerful beings too, close to being great madosas, and had made it this far by resisting the twins’ power.
"Hehehe! That's the end of the line. It's time to pay your dues, in blood."
"Ahahaha! That’s right! It’s time for revenge now."
The Witch of Lust trembled with fear at the terrible killing intent being emitted by the twins, so intense that it seemed close to madness. She didn't want to die.
When Yvain launched an attack on her heart, she casted a mana field and twisted its trajectory.
"Cough!"
The Witch of Lust vomited blood as her mana began to flow backwards. The mana circuit broke and her left arm began to rot.
Ovain clapped his hands. "As expected of one of the geniuses recognized by Sir Merlin. Did you come up with a solution to my power in that short period of time?"
The reason why the Witch of Lust's mana flowed backwards was not because of the twins' ability, but because of her accumulated fatigue and wounds. It wouldn’t have been surprising if the two witches collapsed and died of exhaustion on the spot.
"That damn ability can’t interfere much with primitive magic." explained the Witch of Lust.
The Witch of Greed smiled bitterly. "I wish I had known that sooner. Well, should we be glad that we at least found out?"
Now surrounded by the witch hunting unit armed with divine power, there was no way the two would survive, unless a miracle happened. When the two witches accepted their fate and steeled themselves to make their last stand, that is exactly what happened next.
Boom-! Boo-boo-boom!!
"Are you alive? I'm here to help!"
Jasmine, the Witch of Anger, and Asanchatar, the Witch of Sloth, led a rescue team through the enemy lines. Nearly half of the witch hunting unit was killed in the sudden ambush. Now suddenly at a severe disadvantage, the twins looked at each other and smiled.
"We’re in big trouble. We’re going to get scolded by Caradoc."
"I know. How much do you think he’ll nag?"
"There's only one way we can avoid getting nagged at, right, Ovain?”
"You mean by making at least one more travel companion for us to the afterlife, Yvain?”
Yvain and Ovain nodded before they charged directly towards the witches, burning their life force.
"Hahahahaha! Bring it on! Bring it on! Bring it on!"
"Hahahahaha! Let's all go together so that we won't feel lonely!"
Even as their whole bodies were burned by flames and shrouded in lightning, the twins burst into a frenzied laughter and started a slaughter. All the witch hunters that were still alive supported the twins, sacrificing themselves. After the fierce battle between those who wanted to protect and those who abandoned everything, the twins each smiled brightly as they placed daggers into the necks of the Witch of Lust and the Witch of Greed.
"At least... we… succeeded… in revenge…”
"I… wanted to… play hide and seek… with Mordred… again…"
The two knights fell into a long sleep, thinking about all the nagging they would hear from their comrades in the future.
Mordred looked up at the sky blankly. Bedivere and Lionel were dead. He didn’t think he would have been able to save them, anyway. Mordred would’ve been running wild at the very front, and Bedivere and Lionel had been closer to the rear. He wouldn’t have been able to reach them to protect them. Despite thinking so, he thought that perhaps if he had been on the front line, his instincts might have given him a chance to save them somehow. He felt a deep regret, and all he could do was stare blankly at the sky. Why did his heart still race with an ominous feeling?
* * *
Caradoc did not cry when he saw his two comrades, returned as cold corpses. More precisely, he couldn’t cry.
"It is not your fault. On the front line, the Witch of Sloth and the Witch of Envy caused a diversion. With our forces distracted, the Witch of Greed and the Witch of Lust helped the enemy special forces penetrate deep into the rear. It is only natural that you did not notice." said Gwalchavad.
Caradoc nodded. "Yes, I know. I am not omnipotent. I am just a single schemer. I am… I am… Just a lowly schemer."
Lancelot patted Caradoc on the shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up too much. Sir Bedivere and Sir Lionel will make fun of you in the afterlife."
Caradoc managed to put on a distorted smile. "I didn't know our Vice-captain could make such a joke. Sounds like something Sir Mordred would say."
"I must have been influenced by him, too!" Lancelot replied.
Caradoc then thought perhaps Mordred could have stopped the enemy if he had been on the front line. However, dwelling on the past was useless. Caradoc needed to focus on the future.
"What happened to the head of the great warriors and his supporters?" asked Caradoc.
Gwalchavad answered, "Most of the Giant warriors in the special forces were killed. Once they dispersed and we engaged with them in an endurance battle, even the barbaric and strong Giants had to give in eventually. The damage was minimal."
"What about the head of the great warriors?"
"… He is still on the run. Twenty of us are in pursuit, including Sir Tristan. As for the witches, Sir Yvain and Sir Ovain are in pursuit along with the professional witch hunting unit."
In the hands of Tristan and the witch hunters, they certainly wouldn’t lose their enemies’ trail.
"Since there are two great witches, it will likely take a longer time on the twin’s side. If the twins catch up to them, tell them to bring me their heads."
Caradoc's eyes were filled with cold anger.
"Sir Lancelot."
"Say it."
"Call Sir Percival. I kept it to myself as long as possible for the sake of security, but I will tell all three of you my future plans so that there will be no problem even if I die."
He was no longer willing to run away, leaving comrades behind just out of fear of an unknown traitor.
* * *
The Giant's great warrior leader, Jabal, swung his sword.
Clang-!
The arrow of light broke apart on the blade covered in strong aura.
"It's the worst. Why is the Grim Reaper, who supports the Blood Red Crow, pursuing me.”
Among the Giants, ‘Blood Red Crow’ was the nickname for Mordred, and ‘Grim Reaper’ was the nickname for Tristan. Not all the knights had nicknames, but Mordred and Tristan had earned them. When Mordred appeared alone on the battlefield, Tristan always followed. Sometimes Tristan’s arrows would claim more Giant warriors than Mordred. Jabal thought Tristan was a worthy final opponent.
"How many Knights of the Round Table have I taken care of on this operation? Thirteen? That's not bad.”
During their escape, he had seriously weakened the Knights of the Round Table, including Bedivere and Lionel, who had died by his hand. He hoped that at least one of the seriously injured would eventually die, but since there were so many priests in the Holy Kingdom, they would likely be saved. However, since their bodies would no longer be able to withstand the power of the Holy tribe, they would have no choice but to retire.
Jabal suddenly sensed the presence of the Knights of the Round Table surrounding him. He stopped running away and began laughing, facing the southeast.
"Hahaha! It’s said that the Grim Reaper approaches without a trace and shoots his arrows, but it seems he is quite angry today. I can feel his killing intent even from this distance! Is it because he’s still a rookie?!"
Despite the provocation, Tristan did not say a word and answered with a barrage of arrows instead. Jabal wanted to fight to the death like a warrior, but Tristan didn't seem to have any intention of fulfilling that wish. Jabal broke into a cold sweat as he swept away each arrow with his sword. Each arrow flew faster than he could visually perceive. Nevertheless, he continued to slice through them. If he couldn’t do this much, at least temporarily, he wouldn't have been able to become the head of the great warriors. But it wasn't long before he reached his limit. He had already been injured while running away, and he hadn’t had water or food for several days.
"O King, please achieve what you wish for."
An arrow pierced through Jabal’s heart as he swung his sword one final time, on behalf of the Giant tribe king who had sent him off to die. Tristan slowly approached the collapsed Jabal, his hand dripping blood from pulling his bowstring.
* * *
As time went by, battles took place every day, both in the east and the west. The enemies attacked as if this was their final opportunity, replenishing their forces and fighting more viciously. The number of deaths this year was higher than the number of deaths in the previous decade, but the front line remained locked in place. It was the Giants that grew more anxious over time, but the Holy Kingdom did not have much room to relax either.
Then one day, the Crows sent a message saying that they would send an envoy. The results of the former Holy King constantly working behind the scenes to improve relations with the Crow tribe came to fruition in Arietta's generation.
"I will greet the envoy myself. The reception site will be the ancient castle in the Alps." said Arietta.
The distance from the Olympus Forest to the capital was shorter, but they met in the Alps for one simple reason: many in the capital still remembered how three great houses and five fortresses had disappeared twenty years prior due to the Crow tribe. Many ministers and nobles were reluctant to let them into the capital city, so they decided the best meeting place would be the ancient castle.
The ancient castle, which was used as a military base, was not only a workshop for Merlin, but also a front yard for the Butterfly tribe. With those factors in mind, even the Crows would stay peaceful. Mordred thought this was a stupid thing to consider, but he didn't bother to say it. He would put his life on the line to protect Arietta, so it didn’t matter to him. Merlin created a teleportation magic circle to the ancient castle, and Arietta followed behind him and Euss, who had become the head of the servants.
"Long time no see. It's only been a little over half a year, but I have missed you." Mordred said to her.
Arietta, feeling the same way, nodded.
It had been a long time since she had visited the ancient castle, and there were few knights guarding it. The other knights were busy roaming around the front lines to cope with the Giants’ massive offensive. Still, there were some familiar faces.
"Your Majesty the Holy Queen! Mordred!
Tristan smiled brightly and welcomed Arietta and Mordred.
"Tristan! You punk! Long time no see!" Mordred grinned and put his arm around Tristan’s shoulders. Looking down, he noticed Tristan’s hand was wrapped in a bandage. "What happened there?"
Tristan smiled bitterly. "I pushed myself a little too hard. I'll get better after some rest."
Mordred instinctively knew how Tristan’s hand had been injured. Tristan gave Mordred a flick and smiled. "Well, thanks to this, our stiff captain sent me here to take a rest and escort Her Majesty the Holy Queen."
"Ahahaha! Well, good to have someone around I can trust."
"Thanks for your kind words. Oh, I have been informed that the Crow envoy will be coming soon. Let's get moving."
Tristan led Arietta and Mordred into the reception room.
* * *
The Witch of Greed and the Witch of Envy ran through the forest, breathing hoarsely. All the witches who had been deployed to sneak the Giant special forces into the rear of the Holy Kingdom’s front line had already been killed at the hands of the accursed witch hunting unit.
"Hehehe! Where are they going?"
"Hahaha! Maybe they’re running away?"
The hunters’ playful voices echoed creepily through the dense foliage.
"Did they catch up already? We were almost there!" The Witch of Greed lamented.
Yvain and Ovain were known to be a natural enemy to the witches with their keen ability to influence magic. When they were attacked with magic, it never went towards them. It always redirected back towards the caster, or sometimes the mana within the attack would explode. The power given to them by the Holy tribe was likely the ability to kill magicians.
"It would be much better to deal with Lancelot, the anti-magician."
Against an anti-magician, direct attacks didn’t work, but there was still a way to deal with them. However, Yvain and Ovain not only prevented the expression of magic itself, but also interfered with mana, so there was no way to defeat them with magic alone. However, the Witches of Greed and Envy were powerful beings too, close to being great madosas, and had made it this far by resisting the twins’ power.
"Hehehe! That's the end of the line. It's time to pay your dues, in blood."
"Ahahaha! That’s right! It’s time for revenge now."
The Witch of Lust trembled with fear at the terrible killing intent being emitted by the twins, so intense that it seemed close to madness. She didn't want to die.
When Yvain launched an attack on her heart, she casted a mana field and twisted its trajectory.
"Cough!"
The Witch of Lust vomited blood as her mana began to flow backwards. The mana circuit broke and her left arm began to rot.
Ovain clapped his hands. "As expected of one of the geniuses recognized by Sir Merlin. Did you come up with a solution to my power in that short period of time?"
The reason why the Witch of Lust's mana flowed backwards was not because of the twins' ability, but because of her accumulated fatigue and wounds. It wouldn’t have been surprising if the two witches collapsed and died of exhaustion on the spot.
"That damn ability can’t interfere much with primitive magic." explained the Witch of Lust.
The Witch of Greed smiled bitterly. "I wish I had known that sooner. Well, should we be glad that we at least found out?"
Now surrounded by the witch hunting unit armed with divine power, there was no way the two would survive, unless a miracle happened. When the two witches accepted their fate and steeled themselves to make their last stand, that is exactly what happened next.
Boom-! Boo-boo-boom!!
"Are you alive? I'm here to help!"
Jasmine, the Witch of Anger, and Asanchatar, the Witch of Sloth, led a rescue team through the enemy lines. Nearly half of the witch hunting unit was killed in the sudden ambush. Now suddenly at a severe disadvantage, the twins looked at each other and smiled.
"We’re in big trouble. We’re going to get scolded by Caradoc."
"I know. How much do you think he’ll nag?"
"There's only one way we can avoid getting nagged at, right, Ovain?”
"You mean by making at least one more travel companion for us to the afterlife, Yvain?”
Yvain and Ovain nodded before they charged directly towards the witches, burning their life force.
"Hahahahaha! Bring it on! Bring it on! Bring it on!"
"Hahahahaha! Let's all go together so that we won't feel lonely!"
Even as their whole bodies were burned by flames and shrouded in lightning, the twins burst into a frenzied laughter and started a slaughter. All the witch hunters that were still alive supported the twins, sacrificing themselves. After the fierce battle between those who wanted to protect and those who abandoned everything, the twins each smiled brightly as they placed daggers into the necks of the Witch of Lust and the Witch of Greed.
"At least... we… succeeded… in revenge…”
"I… wanted to… play hide and seek… with Mordred… again…"
The two knights fell into a long sleep, thinking about all the nagging they would hear from their comrades in the future.
