To be fair, Lancelot was feeling both bewildered and somewhat angry.
But when he saw the knight standing there with a shield—the one who had ambushed him—he froze completely.
Mash's attire had changed at some unknown point, and the magical energy erupting from her body was steadily climbing.
A one-handed sword had appeared at her waist at some point, armguards now covered her arms, and the armor on her legs had become heavier and far more reassuring. Where her skirt armor had been, something resembling a purple cloak had appeared.
That figure was as though—
"My name is Mash! Mash Galahad! The name of the Spirit Origin bestowed upon me is Galahad!"
With practiced ease, Mash drew the sword at her waist and pointed it at Lancelot—at Galahad's father.
"At a time like this, what are you still hesitating for, Lancelot?!"
"Or are you saying that—even if it means aiding evil—you still intend to stand with the false side?!"
"In the name of a knight—"
Clang—
Raising her sword, Mash declared once more, "I challenge you to a duel!"
"Even if I have to stake my Spirit Origin on it, I'll knock some sense into you!"
Lancelot looked innocently at Anno, who stood beside Mash.
Anno turned his head away.
He suddenly felt that he might not be the biological father.
Oh, right, he really wasn't. Never mind, then.
But that still wasn't right. Why was Galahad so close to his grandfather, yet held no affection at all for him, his actual father?
Why, indeed?
But given the current situation—
"I—"
Before Lancelot could finish, Mash had already charged down at him.
???
Clang—
Clang!
With no other choice, Lancelot drew his sword and blocked Mash's direct downward strike.
Mash raised her leg and drove her knee toward the stomach