Guinevere blinked quickly as she opened and closed her mouth. Staring at the back of Y/N, she had the impression that who was in front of her was a completely different person from the one who had broken into her rooms. Perhaps her judgment was hasty.

"We should go out of here."

Y/N's voice tore Ginevra from her thoughts. Y/N was still staring at Edwig's body.

Just as in the legend, Gáe Bolg had struck the target's heart and the different layers of barriers that Edwig had hastily erected in a desperate attempt to protect himself were useless, Gáe Bolg had broken through them and then struck just like a hound.

"What is going on?" Lord Cywryd asked as he approached Y/N. "What are those and what do they want?"

Y/N stared at the corpse hanging on the wall and then approached the window to quickly analyse the situation outside. He sensed the presence of another Ultimate Class devil, but it did not seem to be involved in the fight.

"There is a war going on between the Angels led by God the Father, the Fallen Angels led by Azazel and the Devils led by the four Maohs," Y/N turned his attention to the corpse hanging on the wall. "He was a devil and he was strong."

Y/N turned to Lord Cywryd and smiled veiled. The fact that Lord Cywryd was still alive demonstrated his strength.

"However, escaping from here is impossible," Y/N continued. "There is a barrier surrounding this place. Of course, all is needed is to remove the caster and destroy the magic circle to destroy it."

Lord Cywryd raised a perplexed eyebrow because he neither saw nor perceived anything. However, after seeing what Y/N had just done, it was not time to argue.

"The ideal place to cast the spell is a place where no one would ever go inside the barrier," Y/N analysed, shocking everyone present. "Does anyone have an idea?"

Lord Cywryd was about to answer, but Guinevere was faster than him. "Our family grave," she replied, also as a form of gratitude for saving her. "Hardly anyone goes there."

Basically, from a magus' point of view, it was the perfect place for no one to discover an evil plot like that. At the end of the day, even he has a workshop in the basement of his house in Kuoh.

"The perfect place not to be discovered." Y/N nodded and turned to the main exit. "Lord Cywryd, my duty is to escort your daughter to her wedding."

Gáe Bolg disappeared from Edwig's corpse while Balmung appeared hanging from Y/N's back inside a black sheath.

"Wait, I'm coming..."

"NO!" Y/N abruptly interrupted. "You would be in my way."

If they couldn't do anything about Edwig Flauros, they couldn't do anything about this other Ultimate-class devil. Besides, he didn't want them to see this devil's face.

"They say that wedding is the most important day for a woman. As a father, you must assist," he said with a gentle voice.

He didn't give them time to replicate that he ran out of the hall. He didn't need guides because he could sense the magical power of the devil holding that barrier up.

---------------------------

It was chaos in the town.

Neither Lancelot nor one of his men knew exactly how the situation had degenerated so rapidly. One moment they were drinking and relaxing in a tavern and then a sudden Saxon attack.

Or so it seemed.

Lancelot wasn't so sure they were Saxons.

The truth was that they looked more like furious beasts, driven by a frenzy of battle and blood. Their strength was like a beast. And the swords they wield seemed to cut through everything, even the best-tempered iron.

"You're not bad for a mere human," one of them mocked as he pushed Lancelot back. "Unfortunately, it is impossible for you to beat me."

His sword was pointed at the head of the Knight of the Round Table who, though he was about to be killed, showed no fear of dying.

Ever since the Lady of the Lake had found him and started him on the path of the knighthood, she always repeated to him that a knight died for the King and the people.

"Get down."

Hearing the female voice, Lancelot looked around until a light spear fell from the sky and pierced the aggressor. For some reason, his body went up in flames upon contact with it.

Lancelot opened and closed his mouth as Ariel glided gently to the ground.

"The situation is worse than Lord Azazel thought," Ariel analysed.

With a movement practised, Ariel diverted the sword of the new aggressor making it stick on the ground and then stabbed him with another light spear. This also ended up burned like his companion.

"Lady Ariel!"

Lancelot looked up and saw a battalion of Fallen Angels landed.

"Lady Ariel, there's a barrier we can't break through," one of them reported.

Ariel observed him. Sweat marked his face, a sign that he had put it all despite the negative result. She understood that because it had been erected by an ultimate class devil and they were just Fallen Angels who had at most one or two pairs of wings.

"It doesn't matter," Ariel said as she slapped his shoulder and gave a reassuring smile to her subordinate. The smile lasted little and gave way to a serious expression that turned to the rest of his fallen soldiers. "We must repel these devils until Lord Azazel arrives with reinforcements!"

"YES SIR!"

Resuming fighting, the soldiers went against the enemies with courage and skill, moving the battlefield to the sky. Although there were repercussions, the damage was certainly limited.

"Thank you!" Lancelot rose from the ground and wiped the blood from his eye. "I owe you my life."

Ariel stared at Lancelot. "I've seen you fight and I praise your abilities," she said with a mix of admiration and opposition. "But your battle ends here. This is not one that a simple knight like you can handle, not without a Sacred Gear."

These weren't humans, not anymore. They were devils who, thanks to their transformative abilities, had assumed the appearance of the Saxons who had invaded Gwent. And the same could be said for the Ultimate Class Devils, even though she wasn't sure when this had happened.

"We'll take care of them. You and your men help the citizens," Ariel ordered.

By opening her black wings, she jumped into the middle of the battle.

Lancelot nervously watched Ariel bravely and honourably challenging multiple devils who assailed her at the same time on each side. That wasn't a battle a human could win.

Loudly swallowing, Lancelot observed the scene before his eyes. The houses had been destroyed or damaged and some of them burned. Many among the inhabitants of Gwent and the Knights had lost their lives. The lucky ones were seriously injured, some even deprived of parts of their bodies. Only a few civilians were lucky enough to hide in makeshift hiding places.

Serve the King faithfully.

Protect the land and the people who inhabit it.

This was what his adoptive mother, The Lady of the Lake, had taught him.

And looking back, he did the only thing he could do at that moment.

He grabbed a citizen and helped him reach the basement of an old and filthy tavern where there were other people.

Humans were weak and will always be weak. This would not change even by training until exhaustion. He who had been trained could do nothing and this feeling of helplessness made him feel bad.

"If I have to choose whether to save the King or the people, I will choose the latter."

Before he was a member of the Round Table, he was a knight.

"King is only a title. When one is dead, another will be crowned."

A knight's duty was to protect the King and the land on which his kingdom stood.

And the people who worked the land needed help at that time.

"Oh Lord who guides us from the heavens, this humble knight implores you."

Lancelot closed his eyes and when he opened them again, he was in a black space and there was a flame burning vigorously despite the small size in front of him.

[Fear not its warmth, for its flame purifies evil. ]

"Who are you?"

[Fear not its light, for its light will brighten the darkness. ]

It was as if his body was moving by itself. His hand was pointing against his will and somehow his sword was pointed at the flame.

[Fear not the flame, for it will illumine your way. ]

The flame flew towards Lancelot and began to merge with him.

A knight is devoted to valour.

His heart knows only virtue.

His sword defends the needy.

His strength sustains the weak.

his words speak only truth.

His wrath is upon the wicked.

"Balance Break," he whispered.

When the light went out, he was back in the real world. And, firmly in his armoured hand, what was once a normal sword forged by human hands... his sword... now was a holy sword worthy only of the noblest of knights.

---------------------------

He was risking too much.

Resolving Vortigern's problem was easy because it was enough to spread the fake rumour that King Arthur had killed him and his allies who all believed it immediately.

However, it was much more complicated this time, not the fact that he had saved the future Queen but the risk that the spark between the First Knight of King Arthur and Guinevere would not burst.

The legend said that Lancelot was the man whom Guinevere truly loved and with whom she had found solace after a disastrous marriage. But if that didn't happen, Y/N had no idea what would happen next.

Y/N made a face. Maybe it wasn't what Y/N Alter planned at first, but it put him in a very difficult situation.

Anyway, he would have thought about something once the situation settled.

For the moment, Guinevere's safety was his priority.

Kicking the access door so hard that it was torn apart, Y/N stared at the woman in the middle of the magic circle. "Don't you think it's time to end this charade?" he asked.

After a brief moment of surprise due to the sudden break-in, the crazy waitress who had chased him smiled derisively at him.

"Who are you?" Y/N asked as he slowly pulled Balmung out of the sheath.

"My name is Emily. I am Lady Guinevere's maid," she replied.

"Pff... and I am Gilgamesh," Y/N replied lazily, aware of the truth.

From the moment he set foot within the walls of Gwent, Y/N was aware of the presence of demonic signatures. His break-in, unlike what Mordred believed, was not an accident, but only the fact that he had followed that trace.

"It looks like the act is over," Emily said relieved that the fake was finally over.

Her body began to shine brightly, forcing Y/N to shield his eyes with his arm, and she began to change drastically, becoming taller and her well-proportioned forms became more sinuous. The maid's dress was replaced by a tight-fitting black armour that highlighted her body.

"My name is Eris Aamon, heir to the Aamon house of the seventy-two pillars," she introduced herself while collecting demonic energy in the palm of her hand. "I thought that Edwig could keep you at bay, but it seems he failed miserably."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Y/N narrowed his eyes to Eris. "Where is that girl?"

"Do you mean Eris? Well, she died after my comrades had fun with her," Eris replied, chuckling internally at the memory of Emily's cries as her allies raped her to death. "For the success of the plan, I needed to get as close to that stupid woman as possible. Emily was..."

Ouch!

She was abruptly interrupted by Y/N punching her in the face.

A plaintive cry escaped from Eris' lips, while that simple fist hurt more than normal.

"You don't think I didn't notice you there, do you?" Y/N's body was wrapped in holy energy, a danger for a devil like her. "The truth is, I knew about you, and that's why I told Lady Guinevere not to come here. I don't want her to see me kill you."

To be able to kill, she had to be ready to be killed first. That's the basic.

Y/N closed the distance in the blink of an eye and he swung Balmung whose blade had been coated with the holy element.

The Saint and all the elements connected to it were like poison for the devils. Even a simple wound could become life-threatening for her.

Releasing the demonic energy, Eris blows Y/N out of the room.

"How could a mere human be so strong?" she said internally while observing the severed right arm.

Eris stared at the right arm that had been severed. Once she acquired the Holy Grail, its power would remove their weaknesses to the Saint and light as well as obtain invincible bodies. But for now, she had to deal with these weaknesses.

She opened a dimensional pocket and took two Phoenix Tears, one that was used to reattach the severed arm and the other was drunk all in one sip to heal the other wounds.

She didn't seem like admit this, but she had suffered more damage than she thought. That was a disgrace to her name and her house.

A lightness that wouldn't happen again.

"It's - No!" Eris's pupils dilated and her lips opened in disbelief, seeing her opponent unharmed. "How can you still be alive?"

"Yeah, who knows?" Y/N asked sarcastically.

Eris stared at her trembling right hand. She had accumulated so much demonic energy that nothing should remain of him. She was afraid. And that fear was heightened when she saw the phantom figure of the Wicked Dragon Fafnir.

He was a Dragon Slayer.

He was a man who had succeeded in the mad feat of killing a dragon and bathing in his blood.

His skin had become as hard as the scales of a dragon, able to withstand powerful attacks and rendering ineffective human weapons.

"You did a good job, Heir of Aamon House."

Eris' face lit up as she turned around and saw a magic circle appear behind her; a pale-skinned man, with cold eyes like arctic ice and blue hair like the deep sea, appeared in the middle.

"Lord Leviathan..."

She was abruptly interrupted when the man ruthlessly killed her with a demonic sphere that pierced her chest and continued in the direction of Y/N. Quickly tracing Rule Breaker, he stabbed it and dissipated the demonic energy in the air.

"Wasn't Eris your partner?" Y/N asked angrily.

"Hmm..." Lord Leviathan snorted casually. "A pathetic insect that trembled before a human is useless." Lord Leviathan began to gather the demonic power around him, giving him an icy aura. "I'll get rid of you."

She was abruptly interrupted when the man ruthlessly killed her with a demonic sphere that pierced her chest and continued in the direction of Y/N. Quickly tracing Rule Breaker, he stabbed it and dissipated the demonic energy in the air.

"Wasn't she your partner?" Y/N asked angrily.

"Hmm..." Lord Leviathan snorted casually. "A pathetic insect that trembled before a human is useless." Lord Leviathan began to gather the demonic power around him, giving him an icy aura. "I'll get rid of you."

---------------------------

"Hmm... I pity you," Mordred said, staring at the corpses of all the devils he had faced and killed.

Mordred was not a magus but she had learned a bit about the culture of the devil and knew that they gave much more importance to social status than ability. Low-class devils who had a lot of talent remained low-class devils for the rest of their lives.

She approached the dying body of someone who was a little luckier and stabbed him in the heart, killing him with all the mercy a person like her could give.

"I understand you," she continued her monologue. "Nobody sees your talent. You are puppets for the seventy-two noble houses. You are nothing but meat to be sent to slaughter."

The War they were fighting was unfair. Many of them didn't even know the reasons behind it. They were mere expendable pawns like she had once been.

Looking up, Mordred saw the barrier shattered.

"He did it." She looked down at the castle and shook her head as an alarm bell rang in her head. "No, it is quite the opposite."

Just as she saw Lord Cywryd, Lady Guinevere, and a group of soldiers, nobles, and waiters rushing out of the castle, the castle began to explode rapidly at different points, indicating that the fight was rather heated.

"What is it happening and what are those things in the sky?" Lord Cywryd asked, staring with bated breath at the spectacle of lights in the sky. He turned to Mordred. "Who are you?"

Mordred ignored Lord Cywryd's outburst, preferring to focus on what was happening on the other battlefield.

"This is all your fault, brat. This hell is because you were born with a Sacred Gear," Mordred said, looking sternly at Guinevere. "The deaths of these people weigh on your conscience."

"How dare you talk like that to..."

"To whom? To a future queen who may not see the next sunrise?" Mordred glared at Lord Cywryd. "These humans, devils and fallen angels... all of them had dreams they wanted to realize. Y/N himself put his dreams and future at risk for her."

"I'm sorry," Guinevere stammered weakly. "I will reward him adequately."

"A monetary reward would be an insult to his will to fight," Mordred said harshly.

Mordred made a frowning face. The money and prestige would not be an adequate reward because Y/N had chosen to save her by endangering all the people who had remained in the future.

She had promised Archer that she would take care of him, and even though that promise now had no value to her, she intended to carry it forward.

"If..."

Mordred stopped when a roar shook the area. What was once Gwent's Castle was razed to the ground and only the intervention of Azazel, Ariel and a small group of Fallen Angels prevented Mordred, Guinevere, Lord Cywryd and the rest of the group from being swept away.

"I felt a familiar presence," Azazel said, staring grimly at Leviathan. "Only one of the twelve Longinus could have made you leave the other battlefield, Leviathan."

"The coward has come out of his hideout," Leviathan said; his face was expressionless. "Or was it just a trick to attack when devils and angels are weakened?"

Azazel glided to the ground and watched Mordred out of the corner of his eye for a moment before turning his attention to Leviathan again.

"Do you think I would do such a thing?" Azazel put a hand on his side and giggled amused. "Maybe I could or maybe not." His expression became solemn. "However, you understand nothing, just like Lucifer."

"What don't I understand?" Leviathan tilted his head sideways.

"That we are coming to the end of this," Azazel replied, pointing behind Leviathan.

Lancelot entered what remained of the gate to the castle courtyard.

"Impossible." Leviathan was extremely surprised to see Lancelot's sword because the reports he had received spoke of only one Sacred Gear at Gwent. And it was even worse because that was one of the twelve Longinus and one of the three Holy Relics: Incinerate Anthem.

"You are late, Lancelot."

Y/N rose from the ground grinning.

"I know," Lancelot said, staring firmly at Leviathan.

It wasn't easy, and Lancelot had no idea how he got that possibility. In an attempt to reach the castle, he had come across many devils who tried to stop him, but his sword had the senseless ability to burn the devils with a touch.

He didn't know how he obtained an anti-demon sword, but he didn't care. Now that he had that sword, he could carry out his oath, and that was enough for him.

"Oh sword, cleanse the evil."

"The Evil Dragon shall fall, and the world will reach its sunset."

Just as Azazel had announced, this fight would be over in seconds.

"Arondight Overload."

"Fall – Balmung!"