[Your journey continues.]
[Guinevere thinks wandering around fairy villages is pointless. He suggests you head to a major city, involve yourself in important events, and build your reputation that way.]
[Do you accept his suggestion?]
[Yes/No]
"Ah... that might actually make sense."
Recalling the events of her last simulation, Artoria sighed helplessly.
According to the prophecy about her, the Child of Prophecy must sound six great bells—and as far as Artoria knew from her previous simulation, those bells existed only in major cities.
She was aware of this. The reason she'd been wandering endlessly between small villages was because she'd been turned away on her first visit to Salisbury. She had assumed heading straight for a big city was too ambitious and opted to start small instead.
But all it did was chip away at her hope, bit by bit.
[You accepted Guinevere's suggestion.]
[After conducting some research, Guinevere recommends heading to Londinium. There, both humans and fairies fight together for a shared bright future. It is also said to be home to an organization gathered for the purpose of aiding the Child of Prophecy—making it the ideal destination for you.]
[You both set out for Londinium.]
"Alright!"
Guinevere clapped excitedly after successfully convincing little C-Artoria to travel to Londinium with him.
He was very familiar with the state of the Round Table Army. It was an excellent starting point—its leader, Percival, was an ideal ally and a major power in his own right. While their base, Londinium, was a centuries-old ruin, its fortifications remained largely intact.
More importantly, unlike other cities, Londinium aspired toward a righteous future for Britain.
To the citizens of Londinium, the Child of Prophecy wasn't just some trendy tale; she was a genuine beacon of hope for the future. But they didn't rely on her. They believed in shaping their own destiny and simply sought to ease the burdens she bore.
Guinevere was certain—if there was any place that could heal Artoria's spirit, it was here.
[In February, Queen's Calendar Year 2018, after a month-long journey, you and Artoria arrive at Londinium.]
[You join the Round Table Army.]
This time, Guinevere joined immediately, without the chance to level up his stats. That meant he wasn't strong enough to challenge Percival head-on to make a name for himself.
Though the skill Endless Trials seemed powerful, as his previous duel with Woodworth had shown, experience couldn't overcome an insurmountable stat gap.
So, this time, he chose another path.
[During your time with the Round Table Army, you paid close attention to Percival's movements and arranged a meeting between him and Artoria, revealing her identity as the Child of Prophecy.]
[Percival was skeptical of her claim.]
[You suggested he test the Staff of Selection in Artoria's hands with his own Spear of Selection.]
[The two relics resonated faintly.]
[Percival acknowledged Artoria's identity and announced the arrival of the Child of Prophecy to the citizens of Londinium.]
[The people of Londinium gave Artoria a warm welcome and held a grand celebration in her honor.]
[At the celebration, Artoria was immediately surrounded by an enthusiastic crowd.]
[Knowing she struggles in such situations, do you step in to help her?]
[Yes/No]
Watching Artoria swarmed by the crowd on the screen, Guinevere felt a little concerned.
Thanks to the last simulation, he had a good sense of her personality.
Though she always tried to act like a proper Child of Prophecy, her upbringing had left her deeply lacking in confidence.
Guinevere had noticed—whenever nearby fairies talked about the prophecy and their hopes for its fulfillment, Artoria would grow visibly nervous, her eyes darting, her speech awkward.
The weight of their expectations might have been a source of pain for her.
But after some thought, he chose No.
Because this time, in the crowd, Artoria didn't look the same as before.
She actually seemed... happy.
[You were warmly welcomed by the people of Londinium.]
[Unlike the selfish expectations of the past, what you felt this time was pure, genuine hope—untainted by hypocrisy.]
[Hearing such heartfelt voices filled you with joy.]
[For the first time in your life, you felt proud to be the Child of Prophecy.]
"You're incredible, Guinevere..."
Cradling the Staff of Selection and resting her cheek gently against it, Artoria gazed at the glowing screen filled with smiling faces and overwhelming messages of support. Her eyes were tender.
There was no doubt—this was all thanks to Guinevere.
His suggestion had led her away from soul-crushing village pilgrimages to Londinium.
His efforts had earned her the trust of others.
Ever since she'd met him, everything had begun to change for the better.
[Because of the celebration, everyone in the Londinium faction has increased favorability toward you.]
[Your favorability toward everyone in the Londinium faction has increased.]
[Your favorability toward Guinevere has increased.]
[As the Child of Prophecy, Percival invites you and Guinevere to join the War Council and help manage Londinium's affairs.]
[Impressed by Guinevere's administrative talent, Percival joyfully hands over management of Londinium to him—in name, it is assigned to you as the Child of Prophecy.]
[The following month, impressed again by Guinevere's military talent, Percival happily assigns half of the Round Table Army's military command to him—again, nominally under your leadership.]
"Ah, here we go again."
Seeing those subtitles, even Artoria couldn't help but comment:
"Percival sure loves handing over the reins of Londinium whenever he gets excited."
[Realizing humanity is no match for the war-hardened Fang Clan in direct combat, Guinevere decides to reform the military, starting with weaponry.]
There was something Guinevere had wanted to complain about for a long time—
Why were all the armies in Fairy Britain composed almost entirely of infantry?
Where were the archers?
Where?!
It was all just melee charges—tactics barely existed. Victory depended mostly on brute strength and numbers.
What kind of war was this? Dress-up and pretend?
Watching the composition of the Round Table Army, Guinevere could only shake his head.
No wonder humans were treated like livestock. If you're reduced to brawling with magical fairies in close quarters, of course you're going to lose!
To be fair, he could sort of understand.
Historically, it was the fairies who dominated the battlefield. Born able to perform miracles, capable of long-range magical attacks like fireballs and wind blades—they didn't need bows and arrows.
Even the Fang Clan, a tribe of brawlers, had such superior physical prowess that they could dodge or tank ranged attacks.
So, fairies never needed archers.
And humans rarely joined battles—when they did, they were treated like mascots to boost morale, not actual combatants.
In all of Fairy Britain, the only force that used humans as a primary army was the Round Table Army.
Plus, in this world, fairies didn't need to eat, and food for humans could be conjured via miracles—so hunting culture never developed.
Hence, bows and arrows were practically nonexistent in fairy culture.
Realizing all this gave Guinevere a headache.
Just because all the Archer-class heroes went around cleaving people with swords doesn't mean archers are useless!
Guinevere was determined to show these fairies how real war was fought.
[At the routine council meeting, Guinevere proposes incorporating javelin training into regular drills.]
[He proposes that Londinium's craftsmen begin producing bows and arrows.]
[He proposes large-scale training of archers.]
[Do you support his proposal?]
"Eh?"
Artoria blinked in surprise at the screen.
"Bows... and arrows? Are those some kind of weapons?"
She didn't quite understand, but since it was Guinevere's idea, there must be some purpose behind it, right?
As far as Artoria was concerned, as long as it was Guinevere's plan, her role was simply to support it.
That was how much she trusted him.
[March, Queen's Calendar Year 2018. With the throne long vacant, Oxford's lord and Fang Clan chieftain, Woodworth, raises an army to unify Britain by force.]
[Woodworth attempts to recruit Manchester's lord, Fairy Knight Gawain.]
[Gawain refuses.]
["A coward who abandoned his comrades and fled alone—you think yourself worthy to be king of Britain?"]
[Gawain denounces Woodworth.]
[Furious, Woodworth returns to Oxford.]
[May, Queen's Calendar Year 2018. Woodworth launches an assault on the northern town of Sheffield, demanding its lord, Bogart, surrender—seeking full control of the Fang Clan.]
[Guinevere proposes sending troops to aid Sheffield.]
["Though he plays the part of a brutal tyrant, Bogart is a genuinely good lord. He cares for his people, governs diligently, and surrounds himself with capable advisors. He rebuilt Sheffield from ruins in just a hundred years."]
["Most importantly, unlike other fairy lords, Bogart forbids slavery and treats humans and fairies as equal citizens. His ideals align closely with the Round Table Army. He'd make a natural ally."]
[You support Guinevere's proposal.]
[Percival is convinced and orders troops to aid Sheffield.]
["Fools! This is a battlefield for the strong—for fairies! What place do humans have here?!"]
[Woodworth sneers at the Round Table Army as they flank his forces.]
"That's the lord of Oxford... Woodworth..."
Watching the imposing, suit-clad werewolf, Artoria shrank back a little.
She could feel the pressure even through the screen. It was intense.
Looking at the swarming Fang Clan fairies under his command, she instinctively ducked.
Any one of them could easily flatten her, couldn't they?
If that was true for her real self, her simulated self was no different. By the time she arrived on the battlefield, Artoria was clutching the Staff of Selection tightly, shoulders hunched like a quail—completely unprepared for battle.
To be honest, even though she was scared herself, seeing how utterly terrified her simulated self looked made her flush with embarrassment. She wanted to dig a hole and hide.
I know you're scared, but could you try not to show it so obviously?
She moaned internally.
Still, if she had a mirror, she'd probably see that her current expression was exactly the same as her simulated self.
["It's okay. I'm here."]
[Sensing your fear, Guinevere gently took your hand.]
[He turned slightly and said, "Just do what we rehearsed, and everything will be fine."]
["We're not going to lose."]
[His words, simple as they were, filled you with peace.]
[You are filled with determination.]