The Undying Death Knight failed to achieve the ending of the Heroic Spirit

Thanks to Mordred's intelligence, he was able to regain control of Lihe City in a short period of time, and lured the enemy's commander into the city and captured him. As for the remaining scattered enemies - there was only wilderness between the two cities, and there was no room for them to stay.

Fighting with all his strength for the first time in a long time just to intimidate the enemy also made him feel tired. At the celebration party, he hid his tiredness under joy and pride, but now that there were only two of them, his abnormality could not escape Mordred's eyes.

"Master... Menachel, are you okay?"

"It's okay. I can live for at least another ten years." Menechel shook his head. "Besides, I can have a good rest after this battle. The war report from the front says that King Arthur has captured the last fortress, and the war in the country has basically been settled."

Mordred's eyes widened, and she felt as if her head had exploded with a buzzing sound. The scene in front of her suddenly became unreal. Both the reception room and Menechel standing in the middle of the reception room seemed to be shrouded in a layer of fog.

——Are you leaving now? No, should I say, is it time to wake up from the dream?

Although everything in front of her was blurry, Mordred's mind was surprisingly clear. She saved Menechel and guarded the rear for her father. The story had the most perfect ending.

But there was always an inexplicable haze lingering in Mordred's heart.

"Are you leaving?"

The voice rang in her ears. She looked up and saw in the blur that the blurry shadow of Menachel seemed to be looking at her.

"Are you going back to your own time and space?"

As if in response to Mordred, Menechel asked again.

"You..." Mordred spoke subconsciously because she was too surprised. At this time, she was surprised to find that she could still speak, so she simply said: "Did you find out?"

"Although I am dying, I am still your teacher after all. I know the character of my own disciples. Whether it is intercepting letters or calling me master, these are things that my stupid disciple would not do now, but the concern in your words when you saw me for the first time was real and could not be deceived."

Listening to Menechel's evaluation of herself, for some reason, Mordred felt even more depressed. She suddenly wanted to shout out loud, but at this moment, she heard Menechel continue, "So, you are Mordred from the future, right?"

"Hey?"

"It seems that I guessed right." The other party's voice was complacent, but it returned to normal in an instant: "Although I wanted to ask, if you hadn't come, what would have happened to these two cities and me who was responsible for defending the cities - but since you chose to come back, then I already know the answer."

The scenery in front of my eyes became more and more blurred, and the boundaries between objects became fainter and fainter, until they finally merged into one.

But at this moment, Mordred suddenly felt herself being embraced by a warm embrace. She instinctively wanted to struggle, but she heard Menechel's voice in her ears: "Let me feel it for a while. After all, I probably won't be able to see you again."

The contact between his body and the armor felt cold and hard, but Mordred felt a warm current flowing through his heart. That warmth flowed into the sunlight and sprinkled into his dark heart, dispelling the deep haze one by one.

The tip of her nose felt a little sour, and all the scenery in front of her slowly faded back to the original pure white, and the dreamy white was eventually peeled off inch by inch.

Click click click——

"Mordred, you have grown into a great knight."

When dreams are shattered.

……

"Well."

Mordred murmured in a dream-like manner, yawned, and slowly opened her eyes. Her whole body felt lazy, a feeling of comfort she had never experienced since becoming a Servant.

She finally came back to her senses from her dazed state, but when she saw the scenery around her clearly, her eyes dimmed noticeably.

This was the gigolo club she was familiar with. There was neither the endless wilderness nor the Bilu City in her memory. She touched the place where she had just been hugged, and of course, there was nothing there.

"What an amazing dream." Gawain spoke first, and he did not hesitate to praise: "It fills up all the regrets."

As he spoke, he made a decision in his heart.

On the other side of the sofa, Lancelot, who witnessed the whole process, also agreed: "Perfect story."

His eyes flickered and became firm.

"It's barely some progress." Alter took a deep look at this rebellious son.

Arthur, the gigolo chosen by Mordred, was still lying on the table, not expressing any opinion.

Minako hummed a few times cheerfully, shaking her feet impatiently. “Who’s next?”

"I!"

Lancelot and Gawain raised their hands one after another, then stared at each other in surprise.

Mordred ignored the argument on the other side. She pursed her lips, picked up the wine cup in front of her, and suddenly took a big gulp.

The spicy wine irritated her throat and made her eyes blurry, but the last words she heard in the dream echoed over and over in her mind.

Although the voice was distorted and he couldn’t see anything clearly, Mordred could still imagine the other person’s expression in his mind.

Menechel: He must have also...

"Don't drink so fast, this wine is still very strong."

Menechel's voice rang in her ear. Mordred turned around and saw that he was pouring her a small glass of wine with a nonchalant look on his face. He didn't look at Mordred, but kept his head down and continued to do what he was doing.

Mordred snorted softly.

"You have grown into a great knight, just like when you were little." Menechel handed the wine to Mordred and raised his own glass: "Come, let me see the growth of you that I have not seen."

"Humph."

Mordred snorted again and took the wine cup handed to her by Menechel.

There was a problem in the previous chapter. It was not Lihe City, but Bilu City.

(End of this chapter)

Chapter 279 Vol. : Shining! The Cowherd Round Table on the Beach (Part )

The bells in the center of Camelot rang.

Three consecutive dull bell sounds made the bustling city stop for a moment. Merchants, knights and civilians all stopped what they were doing and looked up at the bell tower.

On the high platform, two silent black knights held a lady in luxurious clothes. Her beautiful golden wavy hair had lost its former luster, and her white dress was covered with dust, which should not have been there. The bitterness and pain on the lady's face could not erase her noble temperament. She was the second most noble person in Camelot, and she was the queen of Camelot.

Her appearance brought the emotions of all the spectators to a peak. They shouted angrily, expressing their indignation for the king they respected.

The queen had a secret meeting with the king's knight and betrayed the king.

This is an unforgivable crime.

They shouted in anger and demanded that the whore be burned at the stake. The huge city of Camelot became a place of execution at that moment.

But there was only one exception.

Lancelot held the sword in one hand, and most of his body was hidden in the shadows. His mind and body were torn apart in pain, and he looked up with red eyes at the beautiful young woman who was forced to kneel down by the two knights, and the haze in his eyes reached its peak.

The last time he watched a burning at the stake, he was the high and mighty First Knight of the Round Table, but this time he became a sinner of Camelot, an unfaithful knight who had touched the queen.

He closed his eyes in pain and clenched his sword hand to the extreme.

Clang——!

The undestroyed lake light let out a mournful cry, as if it was feeling pain for its master.

When Lancelot opened his eyes again, only determination remained.

He has become a disloyal knight, so he cannot let Guinevere suffer alone.

The sharp blade was unsheathed, and Lancelot's body instinctively followed the sword's movement. The knights who stayed outside to maintain order were knocked down by Lancelot before they had time to react. But Lancelot did not stop there. He waved the blade in his hand like crazy, and no one in front of him, whether civilians or knights, could stop him for a moment.

The crowd, which had been shouting "burn at the stake" in unison, fell into chaos amid the noise and panicked footsteps.

Lancelot seized the opportunity and swung his sword. The magical blade easily sank into the temporary wooden platform. As sawdust fell, the two black-armored knights on the platform and Guinevere, who was sandwiched between them, fell off the platform one after another.

Lancelot ignored the two black knights who fell down. He quickly caught Guinevere in mid-air by taking advantage of the sliding fragments of the wooden platform.

After landing safely, he stroked Guinevere's hair lovingly, then he turned around and wanted to leave.

But as the sound of armor pressing against each other came, several knights wearing various types of armor surrounded Lancelot in the center. The magic power emanating from them was completely different from that of the upright knight who had just been easily dealt with. They were the Knights of the Round Table, the strongest force of Camelot.

Lancelot was also one of them.

Lancelot was filled with pain as he looked at his former colleague, but Guinevere, who had fainted from shock in his arms, helped him suppress his pain.

"Step aside."

He said in a deep voice.

"I'm sorry, Sir Lancelot, but you can't run away anymore."

The speaker had short light blonde hair and a bright silver knight's sword that gleamed in the sun.

That's Gawain.

If a powerful knight with the reputation of the Sun Knight gets entangled by him, it will not be easy to escape. In this way—

Lancelot glanced at the weakest link in the encirclement, where stood a knight with plain armor and a small stature. The opponent's lance could not be fully utilized in this narrow space.

So Lancelot no longer hesitated. He exerted force on his feet and charged towards the knight.

"Step aside!"

He shouted at the Knight of the Round Table who stood there stupidly, as if he had not recovered from his shock, "This is Lancelot's last act of mercy." He swung the sword in his hand and chopped it down hard on the other's body.

Gawain came back to his senses. He turned around and shouted Lancelot's name. He wanted to stop him, but it was too late.

Time seems to have stopped at this moment.

"Forehead……?"

Lancelot looked at the knight's sword held in one hand, with a hint of surprise in his eyes. Although he held back because he didn't want to kill Gareth, compared to the sword attack that killed him before his death, this time his attack was actually blocked by one hand?

"You fell into my trap Lancelot!"

This was Gawain's voice. Lancelot was startled and realized that something was wrong with his dream.

——Could it be that Gawain also...

He tried to take the sword back, but no matter how hard he tried, the blade didn't budge.

Suddenly, the armor of "Gareth" in front of him exploded layer by layer, and the flying armor fragments were wrapped in a layer of blood-colored magic and smashed into Lancelot's face.

Then he felt his hand lighten, and his sword was forcefully taken away. The hilt of the sword rubbed against his hand at high speed, causing his palm to bleed.

Lancelot was horrified. He raised his head hastily, but where was Gareth in front of him? A blood-colored broadsword smashed down on him. The sharp blade completely ignored the purple light armor on Lancelot's body, and Guinevere in his arms was split in half.

The donated blood splattered and hit the surging red magic layer, instantly vaporizing into blood mist, leaving only four lifeless human bodies lying on the ground.

The evil knight Lancelot was executed.

"Okay, okay." Gawain walked over and patted the man's shoulder who was shaking off the blood on his sword. "Sir Menechel, if it weren't for you, this guy would have gotten away."

——The world suddenly collapsed.

"Wait a moment!" Lancelot slapped the table and stood up. He pointed at Gawain who was rubbing his brow uncomfortably because he was forced to wake up. "Why can you control my dream - and there is a person who absolutely should not appear!"

He originally intended to make up for his regret of accidentally killing Gareth in his dream, but he ended up being killed by a background character in his dream.

"Sir Lancelot, don't make a fuss. Didn't this Sir Menechel say it? Since our demands are so similar, there is a high probability that we will share the same dream." Gawain's voice was gentle, without the wild and flamboyant tone in the dream.

He also went to the dream to make up for his regret of not being able to save Gareth.

"But but but--" Lancelot was so anxious that he forgot to speak and could only use fragmentary words to express that Menechel should not have appeared at that time.

It was obvious that he had not yet recovered from being killed in his dream.

"Oh, I thought it was a story chain, so I just continued thinking along the lines of Sir Mordred's dream."

In fact, it was just to bring in a background character who could defeat Lancelot. In Gawain's impression, it seemed that only Menechel with a sword could do it so easily.

How can he remain calm?

Lancelot was horrified.

"It's a nice dream." Minashel, who was temporarily recruited into the dream to act as the righteous bull-slayer, nodded, feeling that one of the regrets in his heart had been reduced. He looked at Minako with expectant eyes: "It's my turn now, right? I'm the only staff member left here?"

Minanako also continued to release her own treasure without hesitation, and the white mist enveloped everyone present in a few breaths.

The white fog quickly deprived him of consciousness, and in his drowsiness, the sound of wind passed by his ears.

The north wind blew snowflakes on his face, and the cold stinging sensation brought him back to his senses.

He noticed the snow on his shoulders, he noticed the makeshift cenotaph in front of him, and he fell silent.

"Lord Menechel."

At this moment, a notification sounded behind him.

He turned his head silently, and the accumulated snow was shaken off by this action. He saw the trembling servant standing in front of him, and he saw his own appearance in the reflection of the other's eyes.

Blood-red armor, and black hair mixed with a little white.

Seeing that Menechelle turned back and said nothing, the attendant hurriedly said, "The guests from Camelot have arrived."