Thrust and slash.
The wound expanded into the scar of a cross, with hot blood gushing along the trajectory carved by the metal.
Lancelot could smell the scent of blood, feeling a peculiar joy even while in the depths of Hell.
Arthur was right, he was a born knight, possessing a will of iron that surpassed everyone, with a greed so intense that even demons found it difficult to corrode and consume.
The desire for freedom.
Since his memory began, Lancelot understood that mysterious King's Curse; initially, in his innocent naivety, he hadn't realized what it truly was, treating it like a child's joke, not to be taken seriously.
Such a naive dream continued for a long time until one day he fell over while running on the lawn, blood flowed persistently from his knee, and he awoke from the dream.
