After Gareth's injuries healed, the town began mobilizing. Strong militiamen donned armor stripped from the Knights of Justice, reforged by Aslan to better fit and provide additional blessings to the wearers.
"The lives lost in the Lostbelt will never return, even if history is restored."
Aslan vaguely remembered the King of Uruk once saying this. Whether the memory was accurate or not, compassion alone compelled Aslan to ensure these people didn't die under his watch.
If only he had descended as a caster-class Servant, he could have forged simple, individual-use mechas. That would allow these soldiers to truly confront the Knights of Justice. Unfortunately, coming as a mage meant sacrificing his combat power—and he couldn't bring his dragon companion either.
"Everyone on alert! The knights are here again!"
The so-called "annoying knights" were, of course, the Knights of Justice. Resistance across the land hadn't been fully stamped out, so more of these knights roamed than anticipated.
But to Aslan, this wasn't a problem—it was free gear. He smiled at their arrival.
"Melusine, same as always. Twist their heads off, but keep their armor intact."
Before Melusine could act, arrows whistled through the air, piercing the facial gaps of the knights with surgical precision. Each shot struck through the eye, instantly killing its target.
"It seems I arrived at just the right time. Hope you don't mind the interference."
A black-haired archer appeared, grinning broadly. Melusine pouted, clearly disappointed to have her moment interrupted.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Archer—Arash. Rebel, hero, call me what you will. Or just big brother."
Gareth eyed the archer carefully. Kay had mentioned resistance groups, but she hadn't sought them out until recently. Too many of her companions had fallen.
"Can you be trusted?"
Gareth gripped her spear tightly.
Aslan placed a hand on her shoulder. "You can trust him. Arash, the great hero of Persia, doesn't lie."
Arash scratched his head sheepishly. "High praise! But this isn't the place to talk. Let's move to our base. The Round Table hasn't found it yet."
With the town already en route to the mountains, relocation was simple. Abandoned cities and scattered ruins made excellent cover.
"So," Aslan asked as they walked, "what are the resistance's plans?"
Arash didn't hide anything—two Hassans had been dispatched to assassinate Mordred.
Aslan and Gareth winced.
"Be prepared for their sacrifice," Aslan said.
"Mordred is first-class. And under the King's blessing of rampage, she's stronger and more erratic than ever," Gareth added.
A long silence fell.
"Even if the attack fails," Aslan continued, "it will leave Mordred injured. This may be our best window to strike Camelot."
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-End Chapter-
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