No matter how dissatisfied Her Majesty the Queen was with her aides’ idea this ti, since she had co, security naturally had to be airtight—and given the delicate timing, even stricter than usual.
After the Queen entered her private box, Lancelot began patrolling the surroundings. Of course, six seasoned knights were stationed by Her Majesty’s side, along with nurous imperial security personnel assigned to her.
These knights had been temporarily reassigned. On ordinary days, only Lancelot would accompany the Queen.
In fact, this arrangent was entirely because Lancelot had not yet recovered. It had been barely ten hours since the battle late last night. Even with treatnt from the Foggy City Knight Bureau’s dical technology, her condition was far from ideal.
Holy armor possessed mysterious power, its forging techniques originating from the Celtic pantheon. Even when damaged, it could repair itself automatically.
At least six more hours were needed. Sensing the ongoing self-repair of the holy armor 【Lancelot Du Lake】, the only female of the Twelve Round Table showed not the slightest smile.
After completing a round of inspection, she returned once more to the Queen’s box.
“No suspicious individuals have been found for the ti being,” Lancelot reported calmly, facing the elderly Queen, legs slightly apart, hands clasped behind her back.
“Relax a little, little Lancelot,” Her Majesty waved her hand. “In truth, I’m not that important. Really. I’m just an old woman standing in front of people, a so-called symbol of national dignity.”
She lowered her head to tease her beloved pet and smiled. “And yet, so people really think I matter. Did you know? Last year I heard a rather amusing joke—so terrorists believed that if they kidnapped my pet, they could force to yield to their demands. They even planned how to abduct it.”
Lancelot’s expression did not change.
The Queen scratched her pet’s chin. “See? They think you might be more important than a country. My so-called national dignity is really a joke… Hmm, hasn’t the performance started yet?”
She raised her opera glasses and looked down toward the stage.
“There are still thirty minutes until the performance begins, Your Majesty,” Lancelot replied, offering only that final response.
At that mont, however, the Queen suddenly stood up. She bent slightly at the waist, as if trying to draw closer to sothing, staring intently.
Lancelot frowned. “Your Majesty, what is the matter?”
The Queen spoke slowly, “To think… that there could be soone in this world so alike. It’s unbelievable.”
“Your Majesty?”
She slowly lowered her opera glasses, appearing lost in thought, murmuring, “After all these years, she should be far older than I am…”
Suddenly, the Queen turned around, her expression solemn. “Lancelot, could you… help with sothing?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
…
The soft click of a shutter sounded. Before the performance began, such sounds were common throughout the seats—and Boss Luo was no exception.
It wasn’t for showing off on social dia, rely a formality, a way to reassure Auntie Ren on the other side of the globe—who was probably sleeping like the dead now, but would be anxious when she woke.
Naturally, it was a photo of him and Miss Maid entering the venue together.
“All right, when she wakes up, she should at least be able to eat,” Luo Qiu said with a faint smile as he put his phone away. He glanced at Miss Maid and suddenly thought of sothing amusing.
He asked softly, “Is there nothing about this country that you dislike?”
“Why do you ask?” You Ye blinked.
Luo Qiu played with her fingers. “You know what I an.”
She shook her head, placing a hand on her chest. “She exists only in a few similar sub-worlds, experiencing similar events… but I have much more. That small bit of resentnt disappeared long ago.”
Legend and uniqueness.
Just as He appears in multiple sub-worlds—once He becos Himself, all that sings His na is unified, and countless worlds converge into a single independent existence.
Miss Maid was much the sa. That forr national heroine, the Maid of Orléans, was only one part of her past.
“And besides,” You Ye smiled faintly, “she’s already been well avenged.”
Boss Luo was about to show a puzzled expression when soone approached slowly along the steps, stopping before him and Miss Maid.
A lady in a tailcoat, her lips sowhat pale, her features refined.
“Miss, would it be convenient for you to co upstairs for a mont?” she said softly. “Soone would like to see you.”
…
…
Birmingham, Victoria Square.
By day, tourists and locals alike loved to stroll here. It was the busiest ti.
Two n—one in a suit, the other in work clothes—ran into each other in the square and walked up the steps side by side.
They exchanged nothing but glances.
At that instant, a dark figure appeared behind them. They sensed sothing was wrong, but before they could react, strong hands landed on their shoulders.
Between them, a bearded man leaned in, speaking like an old friend. “Gentlen, care to co to the Birmingham Knight Bureau for a cup of coffee?”
Their hearts jolted. Countless thoughts flashed through their minds, all leading to one conclusion—they had been exposed, barely an hour after their leader decided to move up the operation.
“You’re… 【Tristan】! Tristan, one of the Twelve Knights stationed in Birmingham!” the man in work clothes cried out, recognizing him.
Before either could resist, the bearded man slamd their heads together. Stars exploded in their vision, followed by unconsciousness.
As the two were about to collapse, the bearded man caught them, one in each hand, and exclaid theatrically, “Drunk in broad daylight? You two alcoholics! Don’t expect to take you ho!”
The result of this performance—no one paid any attention.
Thus, the bearded man dragged the two away, carrying their bags as well, and calmly left. Outside the square, he tossed them into a small truck—common enough in this industrial city.
He climbed into the cargo compartnt himself. It wasn’t filled with goods, but with various instrunts and screens.
“Oh! Sir Tristan, you’ve already subdued those two Doomsday Myth thugs? That was fast!” soone inside exclaid.
The bearded man shrugged. “Seems the ones assigned here were just small fry…”
As he spoke, he opened the bags the n had been carrying and examined the contents. “Portable explosive spellcraft—Magicians’ Association, 1978. If this had gone off in the square, even small fry could’ve caused serious trouble…”
“In any case, you successfully stopped them,” the subordinates said, clearly relieved.
It looked easy, even bloodless—but without intelligence from the Foggy City Knight Bureau, they might only have realized sothing was wrong after disaster struck. The danger involved was sothing only those within the Knight Bureau truly understood.
“Still, they really thought the operation had been moved up,” the bearded man—Tristan—said thoughtfully. “Looks like they’ve already guessed that Red was captured, and may even have given up information… Let’s hope everything is going smoothly elsewhere.”
With that, he waved his hand. The subordinates understood and said in low voices, “Withdraw!”
…
Glasgow City, inside a building near Glasgow Central Station.
On the fourth floor—an explosion like a gas leak shattered all the glass windows in an instant. Shards rained down to the street as pedestrians scread in alarm.
Inside the devastated fourth floor, five n lay scattered around, their bodies burned and unconscious.
Only one young man in a police uniform remained standing. He was gripping the collar of a sixth man and dragging him out.
“Mr. Gerant!”
Several knights from the Glasgow Knight Bureau rushed up the stairs. The man in the police uniform tossed the person he was dragging to the ground and said lightly, “Cleanup is your job. I still need to continue patrolling the streets.”
With that, Mr. Gerant flipped out through the window. Below, an Iron Cavalry vehicle marked with highway police insignia was parked.
Gerant hopped into the vehicle, put on his helt—and really went back to patrol duty.
…
…
Terrified screams echoed through the pitch-dark tunnel, reverberating endlessly… Suddenly, a dark red glow appeared.
Several figures ran frantically through the tunnel—three n and two won.
Sothing terrifying seed to be chasing them, fear written all over their faces. Suddenly, one of them collapsed.
A bright throwing knife was embedded squarely in the fallen companion’s back.
Tap… tap… tap…
The heavy sound of armored footsteps slowly approached from within the tunnel. It was as if sothing had pinned them in place—they could no longer move.
At last, a figure clad in golden armor, radiating chaos and savagery, entered their field of vision. Between each of his fingers were gleaming throwing knives.
The knives flew—cold flashes of light!
Ah—!!!
After several screams, the n and won collapsed to the ground, their throats pierced clean through by the knives.
The next second, a figure in deep blue armor rushed in, but seed a step too late. “Dagonet, I told you to leave so alive!”
Light scattered from his body as the blue armor split apart, revealing Gareth. The golden armor also dispersed, and Mr. Joker appeared, wearing a tearful expression. “Sorry… I wasn’t paying attention for a mont…”
“Dagonet!!!”
“Just kidding, just kidding.” Joker hopped over to the man who had been stabbed in the back, flipped him over, put on a grin, and said, “Here—your live one.”
“Honestly…” Gareth rubbed his forehead, then looked with deep frustration at the scene behind Dagonet.
The tunnel was riddled with craters from the destruction. Repairs wouldn’t be finished anyti soon.
With a sigh, Gareth took out his phone. “It’s , Gareth… The terrorists here have been subdued. Yes, I know… Also, I suggest suspending trains on this line for now. Today’s Eurostar probably won’t be running.”
While still on the call—“Is that so… Tristan and Gerant have both completed their missions? Good, then that just leaves—Dagonet? Dagonet!!”
Beside him, Dagonet had his hands behind his head, whistling, already walking away.
All Gareth could see was his figure disappearing into the darkness.
…
…
Lancelot led the way down the corridor.
Behind her, Miss Maid and Boss Luo followed slowly. Originally, the Queen had invited only the lady; her male companion didn’t need to co along.
But when extending the invitation, even Lancelot herself was surprised to find she had changed her mind. She found it hard to ignore the presence of the young man behind her.
“Lancelot… as in the legendary Knight of the Round Table?”
Lancelot frowned, stopped, and turned around. The one asking was Luo Qiu.
Boss Luo smiled slightly. “Sorry. I’ve recently beco interested in that legend and read a bit more about the Knights of the Round Table. I didn’t an any offense—just curious about the na. Usually, won don’t use such a na.”
“Wait here,” Lancelot suddenly said.
Luo Qiu blinked.
She added calmly, “Please wait outside.”
Luo Qiu opened his mouth. Miss Maid narrowed her eyes, about to speak, but Luo Qiu gently waved his hand and whispered to her, “I’d like to talk to her alone. You go in.”
Miss Maid glanced at Lancelot, then nodded thoughtfully.
The rest of the walk passed in silence. Lancelot seed to have completely forgotten Luo Qiu’s question about her na—until they finally arrived.
She opened the door and gestured, inviting Miss Maid alone into the Queen’s private box. Then she slowly closed the door and stood outside like a statue.
Boss Luo looked at Lancelot and smiled. “Miss Lancelot, how old are you this year?”
She seed startled, looking at Luo Qiu, her mouth parting slightly.
…
At the sa ti, inside the room.
The mont Miss Maid appeared before Her Majesty, the Queen’s aged eyes trembled. She sprang to her feet. “T-teacher?”
“Little Elizabeth… it’s been a long ti.”
(End of Chapter)
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