Pindo had left the field.
But Tristan had not.
Just as with Mordred and Gareth before, immense, oppressive magical energy erupted from Tristan's broken body, enveloping him completely. As always, it formed a huge white cocoon.
Yet what emerged from that cocoon was not a butterfly.
It was—
A monster wreathed in black mist, spreading its wings as it raised Tristan's longbow—
"Roar—"
The monster that could barely still be called "Tristan" let out a howl and drew the bowstring, aiming at Bedivere.
Whoosh—
Clang!
Relying on instinct, Bedivere blocked the two arrows and glared furiously at Tristan.
Lancelot grew anxious.
It was one thing that Gareth had already become a Vile King vessel, but now Tristan had been slain by Pindo as well.
Although the combat ability of Knights of the Round Table turned into Vile King vessels differed greatly from before—
They fought solely on instinct.
Leaving battle to instinct could certainly be highly effective, but—
That white armor, and that shield!
They had both entered his sight.
Could it be time now...?
No, not yet.
No, rather—
It simply could not be now!
He had to retreat!
Otherwise, only two possible endings awaited him!
Boom!!!
Arondight erupted with roaring magical energy, forcing back the Storm King. Then Lancelot kicked Cursed Arm Hassan, who had come to support him, squarely in the head. Without lingering to fight, Lancelot sprinted toward Tristan.
I have to take these two bastards with me!
"Stop! Tristan!"
Whoosh—
"Hm!?"
Clang!
After blocking Tristan's arrow, Lancelot's heart sank slightly.
Was that a miss?
Or was it...?
There was no time to worry about that now.
He charged at tremendous speed. Naturally, he could not compare to Pindo, but he was by no means slow.
Bedivere was desperately fighting Tristan, but his right arm had