The next day, after Sovell had lunch with Artoria, he suddenly heard hurried footsteps outside the dining room.
"Out of my way! I need to see the king!"
With a bang, the dining room door burst open. Restrained by two magical puppets, Bedivere was stuck in the doorway as he shouted:
"Your Majesty! Sir Sovell! Lancelot has defected!"
It was as though a thunderclap had exploded in their minds. Neither Sovell nor Artoria could hide their astonishment.
Lancelot? Defected?
Following Bedivere, the two arrived in the courtyard of the Royal Palace. The once-lush flowers and plants had been ravaged by the magic power spilling from the battle, leaving nothing but devastation.
Fragments of weapons and armor lay everywhere, along with... the bodies of guards.
In the small pavilion at the center, Guinevere knelt in a crumpled heap, sobbing into her hands. Yet not a drop of blood stained her, and she was completely unharmed.
Beside her, Agravain wore a grim expression, his breathing faint. He clutched something so tightly that it pierced his hand, drawing streams of blood.
"Your Majesty... no, Lady Guinevere. Do you understand what you have done?"
One glance was all Sovell needed to understand what had happened.
In Agravain's hand was the passive defensive Mystic Code Sovell had given him not long ago, Gentle Breeze.
Ordinarily, it looked like nothing more than a coat of arms. When its user suffered a fatal wound, however, it would activate, rapidly healing the injury and erecting a powerful shield at the cost of an equivalent amount of the user's vitality.
Lancelot, captain of the Queen's Guard, had openly defected. Combined with the scene before them, the full story was all too clear.
Artoria's face darkened. In the end, she merely sighed and pronounced:
"Lancelot has committed adultery with