The dazzling golden door slowly opened, and a figure stepped out.
Silver hair. Black clothes. A black sword.
It didn't resemble a knightly appearance at all, yet the moment she emerged, she exuded the purest, sharpest aura.
There was no doubt—this was a formidable swordsman.
With just one glance, Diarmuid felt elated. A worthy opponent, one with whom he could duel for life and glory, had finally appeared.
"Skadi Pendragon, the third Knight of the Round Table, has come to join the battle. My king, please give the order."
"…Pendragon?" Arthur's eyes twitched.
Don't just tack my surname onto your own without permission!
And also, Miss Killer Whale, why… why are you gasping like you've just fought a war before showing up here? What on earth happened?!
As if she understood Arthur's bewildered expression, Miss Killer Whale tilted her head slightly, her red eyes flashing.
"The competition was fierce, and the last-place player fought hard… but I won." Skadi smiled proudly.
In reality, though these were parallel worlds, time flowed differently in Britain and Fuyuki City. Arthur had spent over a year in Fuyuki, while only half a year had passed in Britain. But for those in Britain, that half year had already felt like an eternity.
Unable to hear Arthur's voice, everyone could only visit the Magician Corps Research Institute in their loneliness, gazing upon his sleeping body.
But that was not enough to satisfy Britain's ministers.
At one point, the withdrawal symptoms became severe.
So, when Arthur finally opened the door, the whole of Britain erupted in excitement.
The first knights of the Round Table to sense it responded with full speed, without hesitation.
It became a race—a desperate sprint in which Britain's ministers showed off every skill and used every trick they had.
Initially, Skadi had no chance of winning against Lancelot, Merry, and the others. But for some reason, Lancelot and Gawain suddenly developed a strange rivalry, while Merry and Merlin ended up backstabbing each other, both dropping out. By some stroke of fortune, Skadi found herself advancing into the leading group.
Unfortunately, she was not the only one blessed with luck. Another knight had clawed her way up as well—Jeanne d'Arc.
But Jeanne Alter.
So when Skadi heard that Black Jeanne, ranked dead last, dared to challenge her?
Impossible.
No one knew why Jeanne Alter, the newest member of the Round Table, had such misplaced confidence that she could win. But Skadi proved with actions that arrogance alone did not make strength. She cut Jeanne down with merciless efficiency.
Yet Jeanne Alter was nothing if not stubborn.
In the end, Skadi had no choice but to entrust the defeated girl's soul to Shark, tears in her eyes, before hurrying off in triumph to find Arthur.
"Is that so?"
Arthur's expression froze. He had no idea what had transpired, but he could only sigh at Skadi's mention of Jeanne Alter. After all, this wasn't the first time Jeanne Alter had grown arrogant and been pummeled by her colleagues.
"Ahem! Anyway, I apologize for taking so long to call you, Skadi. I must have worried you."
Apologize?!
The smile on Skadi's face turned alluring. Her eyes lingered on Arthur's lips.
As if to say: you know the proper way to apologize.
"I don't know! Don't look at me like that!" Arthur snapped.
Though being apologized to by the Killer Whale was oddly pleasant, his dignity would not allow it. King Arthur, though always the one being "apologized" to, still felt humiliated—ridden and toyed with by the whale every time.
Impossible. Absolutely impossible.
Well… even if apologies must be made… he would be the one to take the initiative.
Wait. Why did it feel like even if he took the initiative, he'd still end up the one suffering?
Arthur found himself trapped in a strange dilemma.
"It's fine." Skadi's smile softened.
She knew exactly how to handle Arthur. He was like a proud cat—the more you forced him, the more he resisted. But if you stroked his fur, let him feel in control, let him think he held the advantage—then you could always lead him exactly where you wanted.
"Then let me apologize to you, for failing to guard my king for so long." Miss Orca was in no rush. She licked her lips, her voice dripping with promise. "Later, little by little, carefully, I'll show you my way of apologizing."
Isn't the result the same in the end?!
Arthur pinched his brow, determined to change the subject.
"Apologies aside, Skadi, I have a mission for you this time." Straightening under the strange looks around him, Arthur declared, "Before you stands a knight thirsting for glory. Though I do not fully understand his wish, as a Knight of the Round Table, you will surely grant it."
"A wish?"
"Something like that. Skadi, swear your oath to this king. With sword and blood, defend me—and uphold this knight's honor."
"Yes."
With that single word, Skadi's aura shifted instantly.
If before she had been like a sharp, heavy sword, now she was like the sea itself: deep, unfathomable, majestic, magnificent.
A duel of glory, is it?
Diarmuid, who had been waiting impatiently, spoke no words.
Because at this moment, none were needed.
He raised his spear, then charged.
His speed exceeded the limits of human sight, creating the illusion of teleportation. In the eyes of Kenneth and the others, Diarmuid vanished, only to reappear before Skadi in the blink of an eye.
His spear thrust straight for her, merciless and precise.
But in terms of raw attributes, Diarmuid could never match Skadi.
With the slightest sidestep, she avoided what Kenneth and the others believed to be a fatal strike.
Skadi's true form possessed strength capable of rivaling—no, even suppressing—the sun-blessed, divine-level Gawain. That overwhelming power carried with it improvements in every aspect: reflexes, strength, sight, speed, and coordination. Skadi was, without question, one of Britain's top-tier warriors.
None could compare.
And as a Servant, all those records had been crystallized into perfection.
So, this battle amounted to nothing more than teasing a child.
No matter how fast Diarmuid moved, how refined his technique, or how ferocious his attacks, he could not even brush the hem of Skadi's garments.
Utter domination.
"…So strong." Diarmuid's eyes widened.
Skadi's expression grew solemn. She could sense his resolve. She herself cared little for honor, but this was the king's order.
"Knight of the Spear," she declared, "next, I will show you the power of the Round Table."
-End Chapter-
Visit the Patreon!!
Read 30 chapters ahead, more on the way!
[email protected]/TrashProspector