Wood let out a scream, covering his ears with both hands as he glared with hatred at Gabriel and the Demon who had him caught between them. "I know what I'm doing! I also know what the Boss wants from me! I chose this path myself! I am willing! I will see it through to the end!"
[Even if the price is becoming a wretched, decaying corpse?]
Gabriel raised his marble-textured hands, gently stroking Wood's face, his wings lifting slightly to brush against the area over Wood's heart.
The Demon leaned in even closer, the sharp horn on his forehead poised to pierce his skin at any moment.
If you continue to resolutely refuse us, we won't mind turning you into a pile of rotting flesh right now.
If you were capable of turning me into rotting flesh, would you be wasting your time trying to persuade me?
Wood gave them a sharp glare.
Fine! You caught me!
The Demon extended his fleshy tongue, licking Wood provocatively, "I really—chiss! Ahhh! Your skin! Your skin actually—"
The moment its tongue touched Wood's skin, the Demon's tongue emitted white smoke.
“Do you like the feeling of being corroded by strong acid?”
"Wood," Wood said coldly, lightning churning in his eyes.
You.. you are..
[As expected, there are secrets!]
Yes, I have many secrets, you—are not worthy of speaking with me!
"Wood" raised his hand, striking aside Gabriel who was attempting to block him, walked out of the Container, stepping through the blood covering the ground.
Outside the Container, a gentle sea breeze blew, Master White leaned against the hood of the vehicle, watching the seagulls scramble for the tourists' French fries.
Hearing footsteps, Master turned his head. "I had intended to go straight inside, but I sensed your presence, so—"
Gabriel is not dead; to be precise, it is that I cannot kill the things He created..
"Wood" said indifferently, walking to Master's side and throwing himself straight into Master's arms before looking up again—
Boss! Boss!
Wood looked at the person who cared for him most in the world, filled with both shock and joy: "Boss, you've come to save me! Huh, why am I so sticky.. Blood?! It's blood! So much blood! Ah—"
Having come to his senses, Wood let out a scream.
This is Gabriel's blood. You aren't injured, you're safe—get in the car, I'll take you home.
..
..
Verdant Hills, stars and moon in alignment, you are appointed by fate to summon the sleeper..
In an inn in the town of Glastonbury, Lancelot, a folklorist and historian, sighed, tucked away the ancient parchment, picked up his briefcase from the corner, walked out of the small inn and onto the moonlit hill.
Tonight is the day of awakening marked on the parchment.
(A promise made over fifteen hundred years ago.. a knight's vow, though I don't believe the old wizard Merlin will be resurrected..)
Lancelot thought absentmindedly as he followed the guidance of the parchment to a large tree, opened his briefcase, took out the items required for the ritual as recorded on the parchment.
A handful of soil, damp with night dew and grass, from the tomb of Arthur near the ruins of Glastonbury Convent; a bottle of spring water from a holy well at the foot of the mountain; a precious sword said to have been used by the Knight of the Round Table, Lancelot; and finally, a lock of his own hair, shaved with the sword—insignificant yet indispensable props.
Following the instructions on the parchment, Lancelot used the sword to draw a simple circle around the great tree, slowly poured the soil into the circle, placed the spring water by the tree roots, finally dipped his hair into the spring water.
Then, he began to chant in a low voice.
The lost Celtic runes were extremely difficult to pronounce; the ancient notes drifted through the heavy darkness of the night, completely out of place from the bustling modern society far below the ridge.
At first, there was nothing unusual, but gradually, the soil around the great tree began to swell faintly, the trunk of the tree emitted an eerie rustling sound as it cracked from within.
Lancelot continued his chanting.
The morning Sun shone upon the tree trunk, which actually emitted a white mist, revealing an old man with white hair and beard wearing a deep blue starry robe.
He placed his hands over his chest and closed his eyes, his expression peaceful, as if he had merely fallen into a deep sleep.
Lancelot stopped his chanting, took a step forward, knelt on one knee—even though he was wearing a cotton shirt, jeans, hiking boots.
Master Merlin, according to the ancient covenant, I have come to awaken you.
The old man's beard and eyelashes trembled slightly, then, he opened his eyes—they were a pair of azure eyes, filled with wisdom yet clouded by the confusion and trance of a long slumber.
His gaze fell naturally upon Lancelot, his eyes blinking in confusion.
Lancelot..
“Yes, it is I.”
Y-your armor? Why are you wearing such strange clothes?
The old wizard looked around, a look of disgust crossing his face. "I am certain this is Glastonbury, but why has the air here become so chaotic, filthy, devoid of spirituality?"
Because it is now more than fifteen hundred years later.
Lancelot said helplessly, "Fifteen hundred years is enough time to change many things. In fact, although the man standing before you is also Lancelot, he is not the Lancelot known as the 'Knight of the Lake'—two years ago, I unexpectedly acquired a dilapidated castle, while tidying it up, I discovered several items related to Lancelot of the Round Table, as well as a piece of parchment guiding future generations on how to awaken the sleeping Master Merlin.."
“So you are not the knight Lancelot? Even though you look exactly the same, even your tone and manner of speaking are completely identical?”
I am sorry, but I am indeed not the Round Table Knight Lancelot.
Lancelot spoke with reserve, preparing to leave.
At that moment, a sharp, heart-wrenching siren suddenly rang out from the foot of the mountain.
-----------------------
Author's Note: Note: In some medieval writings and folklore, Glastonbury is the same place as the legendary Avalon—it is depicted as the final resting place of King Arthur.
Therefore, within Glastonbury Abbey lies the tomb of Arthur (whether it is real or fake is a matter of personal belief), while Glastonbury Tor, located about a mile from the Abbey, is considered the gateway to Avalon. (And a classic pilgrimage site for Fate fans.)
Next is the Arthur chapter (a character who will absolutely not appear: Gunniang).
Readers "Shi Yi", "Qian Duo", "nagisa", "Gu Lu Gu Lu", "Ruo Yue Liang Mei Lai", "Li Yu", "Gu De Mao Nai", "Lei Zhuang", "a", "Yue Xia Yin Cha", "Lan Mei Xiao Yang", "Yang Yi Zhi Fei ing.", "Min", "Ye Yuan", "Lan Wu", "Qing Yun", "Yuan Zhong Ren De Yi Yu Zhong Li", "Sa" provided Irrigation Nutrient Solution
Chapter 31 True and False Arthur (1)
“Hey, Wood~”
Wood had just walked into the office area when Peterson immediately approached him with a wink and a nudge.
Boss might arrange a business trip for you, if you can get your Boss to approve your leave.
A business trip on the company's dime?
Wood pretended to be calm as he brewed coffee, while his heart burned with anxiety.
(No way! No way! You don't actually think I'm some gifted Hero, do you! Without Boss regularly infusing me with power, I am nothing!)
.. It went like this. The night before last, our English colleague encountered an old fellow calling himself Merlin in the Glastonbury area, accompanied by a young man named Lancelot.
“Merlin? Lancelot?”
Wood pricked up his ears—King Arthur, the mage Merlin, the Knight of the Lake Lancelot were legendary heroes known to everyone, existing somewhere between myth and reality.
Yes, Merlin and Lancelot, the Knight of the Lake.
Peterson sat on the edge of the desk, explaining while flipping through a stack of documents, "After careful interrogation, our colleagues in England have determined that this old fellow claiming to be the mage Merlin is very likely the legendary Merlin, whereas the Lancelot beside him adamantly denied being the Round Table Knight Lancelot, claiming he is merely a folklore historian and archaeology enthusiast.. Here, these are the inquiry transcripts sent to us by England."
Peterson pulled out a stack of printed documents and handed them to Wood.
Wood took the documents and was immediately drawn to the photos of the two parties on the first page, while the sound of an argument between an old man, who sounded suspiciously like the mage Merlin, a young man identified by Merlin as Lancelot, strangely rang in his ears.
Mage, let me go! I am not Lancelot, the Knight of the Lake!
No, my intuition cannot be wrong! You are Lancelot! It must be Lancelot! Only Lancelot's personal belongings and hair can awaken me!
—"But—"
You must find Arthur with me and continue to assist him!
Mage, in the myths of the Round Table Knights, Lancelot is the man who had an affair with Arthur's wife, Queen Guinevere! Are you sure that after Arthur's reincarnation, he would want to see the man who cheated on his wife again?
—“Lancelot and Guinevere's love? No, no, no! What on earth has posterity been spreading! Listen, Lancelot, you were one of the people Arthur cared about most; even until his deathbed, he kept chanting your name, hating that you weren't by his side.”
——“..”
—"I command you to act with me until the reincarnated Arthur is found!"
The voice in his ear came to an abrupt end.
Wood lowered his head and flipped through the interrogation transcripts provided by Peterson, his heart racing with growing dread as he read.
(What is going on? Why do I feel this strange sense of familiarity with the contents of these transcripts? It feels as if I have seen every sentence somewhere before?)
(And that voice in my ear.. Why is it that just by looking at the photo, I can hear their conversation ringing in my ears.. Especially this guy named Lancelot.. I'm certain I've never met him before, yet his face..)
Papa!
Little Anubis's voice suddenly rang out.
Wood lowered his head and picked up the warm Puppy: "Baby~"
[Don't go to England on a business trip.]
Why?
There is no reason, Little Anubis doesn't want to be away from Papa~
Puppy licked the back of Wood's hand with his tongue, his wet eyes watching him without blinking.
But—
[Promise me, do not accept Jason's business trip.]
.. Fine.
Wood had already been worried that during his stay in England, he would turn back into a useless piece of trash because he wouldn't be able to receive irrigation from the Boss. Therefore, although his attention had been temporarily diverted by the matters involving Lancelot and Merlin, deep down he had always been thinking about how to flatly refuse Jason's request. Now—with Little Anubis publicly declaring that he was not allowed to leave, Wood felt a sudden surge of secret triumph in his heart.
..
..
After finishing his day shift, Wood drove Little Anubis back to the Master Private Art Museum. After the Gabriel and Gargoyle incident ended, he spent five hundred dollars on a used car and asked Jason to help him get a driver's license, finally becoming a car owner.