Meiliuqina had lost the will to fight.
She no longer picked up the spear that had fallen to the ground. She merely collapsed there, silently shedding tears.
Seeing Meiliuqina like this, Percival's smile vanished as well, replaced by an expression of profound grief.
He still remembered the last time he had seen Meiliuqina cry like this. It was when he had resolved to save her.
Who would have thought that, after all this time, not only had he failed to save her, but he had also made her cry once again?
At that moment, Percival deeply hated himself—hated his own helplessness.
Yet, he did not choose to step forward at that time. Instead, he silently turned and left.
"Please send me to the royal city, Mister Riezel."
Percival came to Riezel's side and made his request.
"Are you sure?" Riezel glanced at Percival. "You really plan to just leave her there?"
"This is the most appropriate thing to do." Percival gave a somewhat sorrowful smile. "We denied everything about her, denied what mattered most to her. No matter what we do now, we cannot free her from the grief in her heart."
"So, let's leave it like this for now."
"And besides..."
The hand gripping Percival's spear slowly tightened, and the sorrow on his face turned into resolve and calmness.
"We do not have time either."
Percival's gaze sharpened as he looked toward Camelot.
An astonishing surge of magical power was erupting there, accompanied faintly by deafening booms.
Thick smoke rose from Camelot. Judging by its direction, it seemed to be coming from the royal city.
Clearly, Artoria and the others had officially clashed with Morgan.
"So it has started over there too?"
Riezel had naturally been paying close attention to that situation. Once he saw that battle had begun,