Chapter 1312: Chapter 39: However, the Home Was Stolen
First came a burst of truly rapid drumbeats, followed by about ten seconds of an electric bass solo with Will temporarily acting as bassist… The sound was amplified by posite Spells and in an instant broke through the blockade of the war song.
Above the city, the band formed by six gigantic beams of light and shadow had already taken their positions.
On the stage, under everyone’s encouraging gazes, Oga, as lead guitarist, plucked out the first note.
“Oga’s never played together with us, still a newbie… But with you guys, there shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Cheng Yiran looked at Will and the other two—the three of them just gave a big thumbs-up.
“But seriously, it’s not punk rock, that’s kinda lame…”
“Hey, hey… everyone can hear you, watch your image!”
“Oh… are you all looking at me?! Everyone!”
…
“These people… are really going to be enough…?”
Bedivere subconsciously rubbed his brow; he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching a group of green interns in a hospital walk straight up to the operating table.
He smiled wryly and mocked himself, “In the end we actually have to rely on these ordinary folks. For the Twelve Knights, that really is a failure…”
Self-mockery aside, this kind of all-on-a-bet gamble still inevitably made this usually calm Knight Bedivere tense up inside.
A not-so-practiced, yet rapidly improving melody rang out from the guitar in Oga’s hands… He didn’t know if it was an illusion, or simply because the sound had been greatly amplified by posite Spells.
It felt like the sound was transmitted directly into the heart… Bedivere’s tightly furrowed brows began to slowly relax, and before he knew it, his whole being was immersed in the sound.
It… seemed to carry some kind of unbelievable Magic Power.
If at the start Cheng Yiran had only made people calm, then now… from the instant the sound rose, it was as if one had already been placed upon the fields of their Hometown.
The wind was over the water, blowing gently, the grass was lush and green, waves of little blades rolled in layers toward the distance, and then… the girl’s singing voice once again rang out in the depths of the heart.
Yet the soaring song remained, as if transformed into an even greater storm, sweeping down once more.
Only, this time the Covenant of the Moon seemed already no longer the same.
And the song crossed over the war song, once more slipping into people’s hearts.
As if selectively filtering something out, even though the war song still existed, what people heard was the performance of this temporary band.
It spread.
…
Under the moonlight, the war song that Caesar had stirred up did not cease; on the contrary, it had been driven to a point where even he himself was on the verge of rage—one step further and even he would fall into a berserk state.
His gaze was sharp as he looked at the six gigantic figures in the city, then slowly fell silent.
He knew that even if he continued to push the war song, the oute would not change.
When the people in the city quieted down one by one and looked at everything around them, when those frenzied Beastmen shed their berserk state, returned to their original appearances, and finally collapsed exhausted to the ground, Caesar chose to abandon the confrontation.
The Beastmen who had lost consciousness could no longer hear any sound; to keep trying to bewitch them now had no meaning at all.
After giving a final deep look at two of those light-and-shadow figures, Caesar slowly exhaled, then gently descended.
“Why not keep going?” The old Sir, who had seen everything, walked out with a frown.
“No need.” Caesar said blandly, “What had to be done has more or less been done. Next we just wait for the harvest. Now, whether the city is in riot or quiet, it has no impact on us… No need to waste time here.”
The old Sir nodded.
A Timing Bell later, the master of Sir Pukins’ Manor vanished without a sound… When Team One, returning from a mission with some Beastmen who had not originally escaped but had now regained human form, came back, what they saw was nothing but a bloody manor.
Even the Twelve Knights Geraint, who had been resting after exhausting his Power, had lost his head and lay forever on the sofa in the lounge…
Death.
Terror descended in a single instant.
…
…
“Report! All suppression points have been successfully suppressed!”
“Report, the riots at the shelters and evacuation points have also been pacified!”
One piece of good news after another came through the municator at Knight Bedivere’s ear. Only then did he truly let out a breath—then he smiled, looking at the people on the stage playing and singing their hearts out.
“A Tactical Music Ensemble?”
Bedivere suddenly found it amusing to think that perhaps the Knight Agency could take this as a project and create a different kind of execution unit.
This time might count as quelling the Beastman riot, but who knew if an even greater Beastman disaster wouldn’t appear in the future… If possible, then this kind of Tactical Music Ensemble, if deployed on that sort of battlefield, should really shine, right?
“We… we made it?”
“Seems like… it’s calmed down?”
At last, under Knight Bedivere’s reminder, they lowered their somewhat sore arms, then plopped down onto the ground.
“I… I wanna smoke a cigarette to steady my nerves.”
This was even more exhausting than putting on a small bar gig—even though they’d only sung one song.
“We’ve still got minors here, watch it!”
“Yeah, yeah…”
Then, listening to the nonsense these unreliable guys were spouting on stage, Sir Bedivere quickly dispelled the notion in his heart… and instead listened to the far more pleasant good news ing from all directions.
But in the very next instant Bedivere’s expression changed drastically. “What did you say? Say that again!”
Or rather, he went blank on the spot.
“It’s really like this… I don’t even know how to say it… they’re all dead… Aside from the two Elders in charge of evacuation mand, who survived because they were out, the rest are all dead… Mr. Geraint too… We found his body… Dead, dead… all dead… Sir Pukins is missing as well—maybe taken…”
His hand dropped from the municator at his ear, and Dr. Bedivere’s lips seemed to have turned a shade paler… Looking at Cheng Yiran, Will, and the others still happily chatting about something on the stage, he suddenly felt a sense of unreality.
Home had been stolen from under them just like that… and with a loss as brutally tragic as this.
“Lord Bedivere, what happened?”
Seeing that this usually calm Knight looked a bit off, the others quickly rushed up to him—as if waiting for him to say a few words of celebration.
Victory’s easy smiles were still on their faces… One by one, they appeared before Bedivere, making him feel faint.
“Sir Bedivere, did something happen?” Klein came over at this moment.
“Nothing.” Bedivere took a deep breath. “I was just thinking… thinking about how we should clean up the mess next.”
“Clean up…”
Klein was stunned for a moment, but when he saw that after the riot subsided, the whole city looked as if it had gone through the baptism of war, with shocking scars everywhere on what used to be prosperous streets, he too fell silent.
He really was still far too lacking… getting smug over a bit of victory, while Bedivere was already thinking about post‑disaster issues. Truly worthy of inheriting the name of the Round Table Knights.
He still had to… keep working hard.
“In any case, you all tidy things up here first, then go to the guidance point handled by the Elders of the Birmingham Knight Agency and rendezvous with them. I’ll leave this place to you… I’ll go ahead and check on the other districts.”
“Don’t worry, Lord Bedivere, we’ll handle it.”
This bad news could not—at least for now could not—be allowed to spread among the lower and mid‑level Knights, at least not yet… With a heavy heart, Bedivere quickly departed.
He believed that the Elders of the Knight Agency, who were still able to move around normally and had escaped disaster because they were out on duty, should be taking the same measures… hopefully.
…
For the moment… it seemed things had nothing to do with this bunch of magicians anymore.
Lady Maria was anxiously searching for something on site, pacing back and forth through the crowd, muttering nonstop, “Weird, how did he suddenly vanish? He should’ve been right by my side… Don’t tell me he ran off?”
With the feeling of having taken a loss on a deal, Lady Maria thought of that exploded piece of Mithril and suddenly felt a choking pain like her heart was bleeding out.
Her so‑called recent bad business wasn’t a lie, it was very much true, but saying she hadn’t bought new underwear in half a year was obviously not real… it was just her nature, an awful personality that loved money like life itself.
What happened at Sir Pukins’ Manor wasn’t even clear among the mid and lower‑ranked Knights yet, let alone among these temporarily conscripted freelance magicians.
So Bedivere’s sudden departure hadn’t drawn much attention—there were too many reasonable explanations for it… and of course no one would associate it with the fact that Britain’s Fog Capital Knight Agency had just been wiped out in one go.
“Did he really run off…” Lady Maria felt almost like crying: see, those gentle, healing‑type magicians and such are all liars…
They’re actually guys who go out specifically to scam old… single mature women, cheating them out of money and body, aren’t they?!
My ultra‑high‑purity Mithril… her two tears were just short of dangling down and clinking together.
“Lady Maria, were you looking for me?”
Just then, such a voice sounded beside her—Lady Maria froze for an instant, then turned around. Seeing the young free magician before her, she immediately put on a dazzling smile.
“I knew it! You wouldn’t abandon me!”
Maybe she was too excited, because without another word she went in for a big, proper hug.
Boss Luo easily stepped back a pace (a reflex honed from dodging Ren Ziling’s hugs), letting this Witch lady pounce into thin air.
Pouncing into nothing, Lady Maria felt rather aggrieved; thankfully she hadn’t gone sprawling on the ground, but she still looked over with dissatisfaction.
“I just got a bit thirsty, so I went to grab some water… sorry to have worried you.” Luo Qiu smiled slightly. “This is for you.”
There was still a whole crate of bottled mineral water prepared on the truck.
“Oh, oh! I see!” Lady Maria hurriedly nodded, took the water, and quickly sank once more into that healing smile of his.
“The person you’re waiting for should be back before long. I must trouble you to wait a little more,” Luo Qiu continued.
“No problem!” Lady Maria suddenly said then, “If you don’t mind, would you like to e sit in my Magic House for a bit? Anyway, the rest of the mess can be left to the Knight Agency to worry about!”
“I still have a few things to take care of,” Luo Qiu said softly. “I probably won’t be able to go.”
“Mm… mm??”
…
…
Inside Westminster Palace, in the room where Lancelot was imprisoned… Using a thin iron wire secretly held in her mouth, Lancelot managed to pick open the lock on the chain Catherine had bound her with.
Something seemed to have happened outside.
But it seemed to have quieted down again—Lancelot had heard two pletely different songs clashing against each other, leaving her spirit somewhat drained, but as the two voices stopped, she had now recovered a bit.
Unfortunately, the restriction lock made with Halmstone was a special Magic Power construct, clearly not something that a bit of iron wire could solve—so she had only managed to regain partial mobility. Leaving this room, however, was no longer a problem.
The corridor outside was empty… Lancelot had been to Westminster Palace more than once or twice.
As the Queen’s personal guard, she had walked these halls countless times in the past, so she knew the layout like the back of her hand—only, as for where exactly the Doomsday Myth people were holding the Queen prisoner, she had no way of knowing directly.
Two options lay before Lancelot: escape from here and pass the information to the Knight Agency, then wait for reinforcements.
The other was to rescue Her Majesty the Queen, who was being held hostage, on her own—she quickly gave up on the second idea.
Putting aside the fact that her Holy Armor had already been stripped away, even when she still had it she was restrained by the Holy Vestment on Catherine’s body.
And besides, several other core members of Doomsday Myth were present as well… Such a reckless solo rescue wouldn’t turn out like in those lone‑hero movies, where the protagonist ends up triumphant in the end.
“Your Majesty the Queen, wait for my return.”
Taking a deep breath, Lancelot headed for the nearest exit.
Fortunately, perhaps because they were convinced she couldn’t escape, there wasn’t even a guard posted here… aside from the palace guards within Westminster Palace that she saw along the way, already lying defeated on the ground.
The exit was right ahead.
But all of a sudden, a rush of heat surged up from her lower abdomen, a burning sensation like flames shooting straight to her head in an instant, and everything before her eyes began to blur and double.
Lancelot abruptly lost her sense of balance and slumped against the corridor wall… feeling as if countless insects were wriggling all over her, while waves of scorching heat pouring out from her body made her break out in a profuse sweat.
Her gaze turned hazy, her breath came in soft gasps, and she slid weakly down to sit on the floor.
At some point that crawling‑insects sensation vanished, but in its place, all the sensitive spots on her body seemed to have been magnified to an Infinite degree, leaving her utterly at a loss.
Sweat seeped out and soaked the white shirt beneath her tailcoat; the wet fabric of the shirt made the skin beneath faintly visible.
“How could this be…”
Her panting grew heavier; Lancelot’s trembling hands uncontrollably began to roam slowly over her own body…
Not like this…
She struggled with all her might against that primitive reaction of the body, but she couldn’t resist the wild, frenzied thrill that exploded the moment her fingertip lightly brushed her most private place.
Was she about to succumb…
“What a truly shameful sight.”
In a half‑dreaming, half‑waking daze, Lancelot heard this voice and felt that someone was standing before her… wearing a black‑and‑white maid uniform.
Brilliant golden hair, deep blue eyes.
The moment their gazes met, that voice sounded again.
“And you call yourself a lady… Duchess of Aquitaine, Eleanor.”
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PS: (11/30)… orz
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