[Thanks to the children of Lentyne's many acts of kindness and their earnest hopes, Gareth decided to remain behind as a Knight of Lentyne to repay their trust and serve its people.]
[Gareth has departed from the Chosen One's party.]
"Gareth left the party—well, I suppose that's only natural; after all, every banquet must come to an end…"
Watching the subtitle appear on the holo‐screen, Guinevere felt a pang of sentimentality—then remembered something else.
"But didn't they say Gareth died because of Aurora's betrayal?" he murmured.
"I should remind Oberon and Percival about that."
[You departed from Lentyne.]
[Having tolled two of the Prophecy Bells, you decide to seek out the remaining ones to ring.]
"Apologies—though I scoured every lead, I only uncovered clues for five of the bells. The sixth one remains elusive."
Oberon said apologetically.
"But never fear: according to prophecy, once we ring those five, the location of the final bell will be revealed. Where there's a will, there's a way."
"The Oxford bell must wait until the Round Table defeats Woodworth's forces. Before that battle, let's ring the other two bells to further bolster Artoria."
"And now that we've fulfilled Aurora's condition, it's time to journey to Salisbury and have Artoria toll its bell."
"How does that sound? If there are no objections, shall we depart?"
――
Though Oberon's words were entirely reasonable, Artoria nonetheless stared at him in sudden bewilderment.
—Strange. Why would Oberon lie?
[Thanks to Fairy Eye, you detect that Oberon is currently lying.]
[He clearly knows the final bell's whereabouts, yet for some reason has kept it from you.]
[Your intuition warns this is not a good sign.]
"He must have his own secret reasons," Artoria thought.
After all, could Oberon truly betray her?
[You resolve to continue trusting Oberon.]
[You set out together, and after days of tireless travel with Redra guiding you, you arrive at Salisbury.]
[This time, Aurora readily grants access to the Bell Chamber, and Artoria successfully rings Salisbury's Prophecy Bell.]
[Its chime echoes across Britain once more, a faint relief pervading every fairy who hears it.]
[As the bell tolls, your body is again bathed in radiant light.]
[As a reward, all your attributes—besides Luck—are increased.]
[Strength C → B]
[Endurance D → D]
[Agility C → B]
[Magic C → B]
Though your endurance remains somewhat stiff, your other stats now trail closely behind Guinevere's.
Artoria scratched her cheek, feeling oddly pleased—and a little guilty at how easily power comes by merely tolling a bell.
If only this method worked for Guinevere too… then perhaps she could turn him into an all‐stats A-rank, five-sided superhuman.
"All right! Thanks for your hard work, everyone! I've grown stronger once more!"
Artoria announced cheerfully.
"Congratulations—that, indeed, is the true growth of the Chosen One. Though you began as a girl whose magic was below even a fairy's average, now your surging mana would rival that of a Great Fairy. Truly remarkable."
Aurora smiled from nearby.
――
But at Aurora's praise, Artoria's smile froze. Polite, yet strained.
She could not shake the unease Fairy Eye revealed: Aurora's words were sincere, yet beneath them lay a wish for Artoria's demise—simply because she found her annoying.
"Though I cannot openly show my support, some rebel soldiers within my domain wish to join Lentyne and fight for the Round Table's ideals. What do you think?" Aurora asked sweetly.
Even without Fairy Eye, Artoria sensed the malice behind the offer. She wanted to refuse, but knew that now was not the time. With a forced polite smile, she turned her gaze toward Guinevere and Oberon.
"I understand. Gaining like-minded comrades is a blessing for the Round Table."
[Oberon accepted Aurora's assistance.]
[Subsequently, many rebels traveled from Salisbury to Lentyne, joining the Round Table's ranks.]
Artoria hesitated to warn Oberon that Aurora harbored ill intent, fearing she'd seem jealous or unreasonable.
"Oberon, I don't trust Aurora. You'd best inform Percival so he can be wary of those coming from Salisbury," Guinevere said bluntly.
"What? Why would you say that?" Oberon asked, surprised.
"Um…" Guinevere paused. "My gut tells me this woman is not to be trusted."
"Me too! Somehow she's not as she seems!" Artoria chimed in.
"Those aren't reasons!" Oberon said, exasperated. "And if you're going to badmouth Aurora, at least do it away from Redra."
"Ah, that doesn't matter." Redra, humming as he guided the carriage, spoke up:
"Although I once served Lady Aurora, now—swift as the wind—I stand with the Chosen One's party. Should I ever face her in conflict, just don't send me to fight her."
Artoria cast him a quick Fairy Eye glance. He was sincere.
"Very well, since you both insist, I'll trust your judgment," Oberon sighed. "I'll notify Percival to stay on his guard."
"But now, let's discuss our next objective." Oberon refocused.
"The fourth bell lies in the ruins of Orkney, Britain's northernmost city—once home to the Clan of the Rain, now a wasteland. We have two routes: follow the main road through Edinburgh—controlled by Noknarey—or take the Lake District path. The latter is infested with Mors and nearly impassable, but at least we go unnoticed. I favor that one."
"For we know not Noknarey's stance toward the Chosen One. All attempts at alliance have failed, and rumor says she loathes humans."
"Rumors are just rumors—not always to be trusted!" Artoria protested.
"Yes, but if she truly opposed us, even you two—deep in her domain—might not withstand Edinburgh's armies bolstered by her power."
"No need to worry—I know Noknarey quite well," Artoria said with a grin. "I have a plan for forging an alliance!"
"Oh? Pray tell." Oberon leaned forward. Guinevere felt déjà vu.
"It's the 'Beauty Trap'!" Artoria declared.
"Huh?" ×2
"Well, she once said her goal was to replace Morgan and rule Britain—but that wasn't her dream. Her dream was… to have a splendid romance." To clarify for Oberon and Guinevere, Artoria continued:
"She said, 'My dream? Obviously romance!' 'I'll find someone who moves me in my soul.' 'But first I must settle scores with my predecessor, then I can pursue what I truly desire—love—after I'm queen.'"
"Sounds odd… dreams are supposed to be loftier than goals?" Guinevere wondered.
"Right? I think she mixed them up… or maybe not."
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind."
Watching the holo‐dialogue, Artoria recalled that night's conversation with her only close friend. A fond smile tugged at her lips.
After all—"My dream? Romance!" "I want a love that could topple kingdoms!" "Even a vow: I must first settle the old mess, then pursue true love after becoming Britain's queen." Hearing those words always felt strange. As leverage, it might make her friend yield entirely… just imagining her expression made Artoria's face light up with glee.
Since Noknarey isn't queen yet, she surely remains single, right? That thought invigorated Artoria.
"All right, then—let's take the main road and seek out Noknarey!"
"What do you mean?" Oberon frowned, but Artoria's confident smile won him over in an instant.
"So you have faith you can persuade her with bygone bonds?" he asked.
"Uh… yes!" Artoria said, a little sheepishly.
She hadn't thought it through—she simply longed to meet her friend, to show off how much she'd changed, and especially to boast about her wonderful boyfriend. What could be more meaningful?