Forward, ever forward, until they finally emerged from the desert. Before them stretched a scorched, withered land, burned to cinders.
"Apparent temperature: forty-eight degrees Celsius. Relative humidity: zero percent. The mana density in the atmosphere is far lower than in the desert. This is indeed an environment where ordinary humans cannot survive."
Guinevere still retained memories of this Singularity from her past life, so she was somewhat prepared for the scene outside the desert.
Yet, as a wave of heat even more intense than the desert's washed over her, and she gazed upon the blackened, withered earth stretching to the horizon, she couldn't help but voice her astonishment.
She knew, however, that this scorched land was not the work of the Sun King or the Lion King. It was the masterpiece of the Demon God King, who sought only to incinerate the Human Order.
The longer a Singularity developed and the more it deviated from its original history, the more it would be affected by the Incineration of the Human Order, drawing closer to the end of the world.
In other words, any Singularity guided into existence by Goetia was destined for destruction.
But "destined for" was not the same as "already destroyed." In the process, some things inevitably remained—like the Living Dead who, upon spotting Guinevere and her companion, began to shamble forward, surrounding them.
"Food... It's food..."
"Meat! It's meat!"
"Ah, a woman who looks delicious!"
"Thank you, thank you so much. I'm truly grateful you've all survived until now—just for me!"
This was still only the edge of the desert, but perhaps it was precisely because it was the edge that they had encountered so many Living Dead at once.
They could still speak, still roar, but they had completely shed the moral restraints of humanity. Their bodies had already begun to half-ghoulify, transforming them into monsters that could no longer be considered human.
"Miss Ruler..."
"Bedivere, they've eaten people before, haven't they? They wouldn't say a woman looks delicious otherwise, right? So, it would be perfectly reasonable for me to kill them, wouldn't it?"
As far back as she could remember, the Living Dead before her were the most twisted humans Guinevere had ever seen. The apocalypse was indeed far more brutal than any era of war.
She pitied them, and she lamented their fall, but most importantly, they were already attacking.
Should I just purify them with flames? After using fire twice already, Guinevere wanted to try a different Skill first.
She snapped her fingers, giving herself a mental cue, and immediately activated her Skill: [Judgment].
In an instant, the Living Dead froze. Guinevere had branded them as "evil," causing them to suffer "increased damage" when attacked by her.
Simultaneously, their minds were tormented, forced to relive every sin they had committed in recent days.
Thus, if their moral compass remained, they would naturally feel regret. Even if they didn't break down weeping and kneeling in repentance, they would at least hesitate before committing what they knew to be wrong.
But if their moral compass was gone, or if they insisted that breaking moral codes was no longer wrong, wouldn't they just attack with even greater ferocity?
Just as she thought, ninety percent of them collapsed to their knees, weeping and begging the Lord for forgiveness and salvation. But the remaining ten percent fully transformed into ghouls, lunging forward as if driven by Madness Enhancement.
"Tch."
The test of her [Judgment] Skill was complete. The effect differed slightly from what Guinevere had expected, but it was undeniably a powerful ability, perfectly suited for dealing with those whose wills were weak.
With the test concluded, Guinevere once again ignited the golden flames of [Execution], incinerating the remaining ghouls that charged at her.
But as they watched the ghouls die, some of the weeping Living Dead did the same—their own family members had been among the first wave of attackers.
"Miss Ruler, why did you..."
The ones who dared to attack died. The ones who wept in repentance also died. Guinevere granted the same fire to every attacker she encountered.
"If they confessed their sins, they must face justice. They admitted it themselves—they've all eaten people."
"Besides, I can't guarantee how long their remorse will last. Perhaps as soon as we leave, hunger will drive them back to their old ways.
"Bedivere, since we lack the ability to save them completely, we must see this through to the end."
People aren't firewood, after all; they take longer to burn completely. Bathed in the light of the many human torches, Bedivere slowly nodded at Guinevere.
He was a Knight, after all, and no stranger to having blood on his hands. Besides, there truly was reason to send these attackers to their deaths.
"Miss Ruler, I understand."
He tapped his right fist against his chest, the clang of metal on metal ringing out. After another glance at the burning figures, Bedivere fell into step behind Guinevere, his curiosity about what the King of Knights had endured growing ever stronger.
The disaster in this Singularity wasn't just the Calamity wrought by the Demon God King; it was also the Human Calamity created by the Lion King.
If the Singularity was doomed to destruction, what should someone with the will to save do? The Lion King's choice was to save only those worthy of salvation.
As for the unworthy... they were simply to be culled.
Forward, forward... until Guinevere's extended senses detected new life, a presence that made her pause, lost in a wave of nostalgia.
"Miss Ruler, is that..."
"Yes, it must be Sir Tristan."
In Guinevere's memory, the Chaldea party had been delayed in the desert for two days. During that time, they encountered maddened civilians and Sir Tristan, who was hunting Hassan of Intoxicated Smoke and the Mountain People under his protection.
However, since Guinevere and her companion weren't heading to the Sun King's Temple like the Chaldea trio, they had exited the desert two days earlier.
Thus, they encountered Sir Tristan shortly after he had begun his hunt. He and his knights had been drawn to the commotion at the 'border' and had come to investigate.
From a distance, their figures came into the perception of Tristan and his knights.
First came the clamor of his Enforcement Knights, followed by Tristan himself forcing open his ruined eyes.
If he could still see, he would have witnessed the King of Knights, clad in strange attire, waving and smiling at him, mouthing the words: "Sir Tristan."
But even without sight, the aura of the 'King of Knights' and Bedivere's presence were unmistakably familiar to him—even if this King of Knights' aura felt odd, tinged with the scent of another familiar person.
Confusion and bewilderment flooded his mind, leaving it in chaos. He subconsciously dismounted and bowed, then instinctively moved closer to Guinevere and Bedivere.
Yet, he was still a powerful knight. Driven by the sorrow of being unable to bear killing his comrades, he had chosen to receive the Blessing of [Inversion] from the Lion King.
Since then, he no longer feared poison, and his personality had twisted from gentle and poetic to cruel and bloodthirsty. Fortunately, his gender hadn't changed to female.
Toward this King of Knights and the Bedivere beside her, he halted and adopted a stance of maximum vigilance.
"We meet for the first time, Sir Tristan," Guinevere said, her steps never faltering until she was less than ten meters away. During her approach, Tristan repeatedly tried to draw his bowstring but found himself unable to release an arrow. "I am a King of Knights from another possibility. I was summoned to correct the mistakes of my other self."
Hearing Guinevere repeat these words, Tristan plunged into even deeper confusion.
He had chosen to serve the Lion King, even at the cost of betraying his knightly virtues, but he had always known it was wrong.
"Sir Tristan," Guinevere asked, "will you join my side? Together with your dear friend, Bedivere."
Guinevere held the utmost goodwill and expectation for Tristan, even if he wasn't the Tristan who belonged to her.