After deciding on the next course of action, following the direction Bedivere had previously pointed, Rin Aosaki and the others soon found the group of wanderers. And after asking if anyone among them wanted to return to Egypt with Nitocris, to his surprise, it seemed that no one could accept becoming a slave of Egypt in order to stop wandering. Not a single person chose this path, but rather decided to go together to find the village of the People of the Mountain.
Thus, after bidding farewell to a Nitocris who looked like she had expected this, the group began their search for the whereabouts of the People of the Mountain, leading the four hundred or so wanderers.
However, the wilderness was too vast. In addition, water and food were not very plentiful, and there were many elderly, children, and pregnant women in the crowd. The pace of the team naturally couldn't be further accelerated.
After a day's journey, the sun was about to sink below the horizon. Rin Aosaki understood that if this continued, the team's condition would only get worse. The food problem could be勉强 dealt with by the occasional magical beasts in the area, but the problem of water, as well as mental and physical exhaustion, was not something that could be easily solved.
Just as he was considering whether to split up and go ahead alone to scout for the trail of the People of the Mountain as much as possible, he suddenly sensed several clashing auras from a distance.
...
—Swish.
Several daggers, flashing with a strange cold light and seemingly coated with some kind of poison, flashed through the air, attacking the purple-armored, purple-haired knight from a tricky angle. But even with all escape routes blocked, the knight did not panic. The black holy sword wrapped in chains in her hand easily blocked all the attacks, and at the same time, she swung a counter-attack at the assassin who was about to launch a surprise attack from behind, directly breaking the white skull mask on the other's face, cutting the opponent's shoulder and drawing blood.
However, in that instant, a visible purple poisonous mist suddenly spread out from the assassin's body, forcing the knight to give up on a follow-up attack and retreat a certain distance, while at the same time holding her breath. The holy sword in her hand stirred the air currents, immediately clearing the poisonous purple mist before her.
"Give up your resistance. In your current state, it's impossible to escape from my hands. The round of attacks just now was your last chance." Looking at the purple-haired, shoulder-length girl half-kneeling on the ground not far away, panting slightly, one hand pressing the wound on her shoulder, while her right leg, wrapped in tight-fitting clothes, was also slowly bleeding, Lancelot didn't want to make things too ugly and gave his final advice.
The reason he was here was also because yesterday, while leading the partisan knights on patrol, he had suddenly received an order from the Holy City. When he returned, he learned that while he was away, the Holy City had actually encountered "rebels." And the ones who had carried out this act were one of the Round Table Knights he was familiar with, Bedivere, and a youth who was said to be the younger brother of the "King Arthur" from another world.
At first, when he learned this news, Lancelot was a little incredulous. But what shocked him even more was that Tristan seemed to have been hit by a powerful attack from an unknown Servant. He had escaped by a stroke of luck, but the price was the loss of an arm, greatly reducing his combat power. It was precisely for this reason that Agravain had given him the task originally intended for Tristan: to pursue the People of the Mountain who had previously attacked the Holy City to reclaim Jerusalem.
Although under the cover of the assassin girl before him, the rest of the People of the Mountain had already fled, the other party was clearly an important figure among them. As long as he brought her back, even if he didn't deal with the rest, Lancelot thought he should be able to report back to the Holy City.
However, facing his advice, Hassan of Serenity did not answer, merely pulling out several more daggers again, clearly intending to continue the fight. Sensing her will to die rather than surrender, Lancelot frowned and sighed inwardly, but still silently raised the holy sword in his hand, preparing to knock the girl out and take her back for interrogation.
Without any warning, the next moment, the figure of the Knight of the Lake suddenly disappeared from the spot, the blade of his sword slashing towards Serenity's face with a sharp momentum! And the assassin girl also acted at almost the same instant. She subconsciously turned her body to dodge the slash, while at the same time, the daggers in her hand, coordinated with the poisonous mist that once again emanated from her body, wanted to use this cover to make a final desperate move!
But unfortunately, the attack from the front was just a feint. Lancelot suddenly changed his sword path, his footsteps misplacing. He was about to flash behind Serenity and use the flat of his sword to strike the back of her head and knock her out. But just as the holy sword in the Knight of the Lake's hand had just changed its trajectory, a voice suddenly came from a distance.
"Miss, please duck, and then attack to your rear side!"
Hearing this reminder, Serenity was stunned for a moment. But driven by her own instinct for danger, she inexplicably trusted this voice. Without a moment's hesitation, she suddenly ducked down, then supported herself with one hand on the ground, threw a dagger behind her with the other, and pulled away in another direction.
And Lancelot, who had no time to change his move, took a hit head-on. But fortunately, he had adopted a defensive posture, and the holy sword in his hand narrowly blocked the incoming dagger. But before the astonished knight could react to what was going on, the next moment, a golden spear shadow suddenly shot from a distance, like a meteor in the night sky, straight towards him!
Lancelot instinctively blocked again, but the force contained in this suddenly thrown long spear was far beyond that of those daggers.
—CLANG!
The spinning long spear continuously scraped against the blade of the black holy sword, creating countless sparks, pushing Lancelot's figure continuously backward, carving two trenches in the ground. Finally, after pushing the Knight of the Lake back several dozen meters, the spear's forward momentum gradually stopped. After Lancelot swung his sword and knocked it away, the golden spear, as if summoned, made several circles in the air and finally returned to the hand of a certain youth who was approaching.
Feeling a faint sense of paralysis from his palm, Lancelot lowered the holy sword in front of his chest and looked at the two who had arrived with a solemn expression, his eyes holding a bit of complexity.
"That youth... and, Bedivere?"
....
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