When Gawain was about to reach the town, he stopped and turned back. After waiting a long time for Arthur, Merlin, and Kay, he had no choice but to start looking for them himself.
But when he returned to the place where it all began, none of the three were there.
"I seem to have completely failed in my duties… haha…"
He forced out a hollow laugh—the kind of laugh one uses to cover up unease—then took a deep breath and resolved to search for Arthur and the others.
Before him lay three options:
One, just run away!
Even if you are a king, you can't be expected to pull yourself back from beyond the horizon, right?
Two, go back to Camelot and ask for help.
If it were Mother and Manaka, they'd surely find the king's whereabouts. Merlin wouldn't be able to hide him from those two. But if Gawain asked for their help, he'd be dead—no doubt about it. If Mother and Manaka didn't act, Lancelot and the others certainly would.
Three, pick a direction at random and search blindly.
Gawain felt his luck had always been decent. Surely he would meet Arthur. Yes, definitely!
So he chose a direction and moved cautiously forward, careful not to miss any clue.
"The King said it'd be a miracle if I managed this kind of thinking without accidents," Gawain muttered to himself. "But I have to believe in luck. People who laugh must have good luck. Didn't the King say that too?"
He looked like a mischievous schoolboy who just got zero on a test and had no choice but to face his parents bravely—praying they wouldn't be too mad.
Arthur did say that those who know how to laugh have good luck.
But no one had ever seen a man with terrible luck who smiled all day long.
By the time Gawain arrived at the town, it was already noon the next day.
As a knight who had followed King Arthur to defeat ten thousand Saxons, Gawain was treated well.
Before the local lord appeared, the enthusiastic townsfolk pulled him aside and insisted he enjoy good food and wine.
Gawain, hungry after an all-night search and with worries pressing on his mind, didn't refuse. They dragged him into a tavern.
What happened next was predictable.
"Knights love fine wine and beautiful women. The stronger the knight, the more so. Offer these, satisfy the knight's desires, and he will help solve your troubles."
This was a well-known rumor in the British Isles, believed by all.
Ordinary people knew of King Arthur's victories, but they knew little about the personalities of his knights.
Now, eyes gleaming with hope, they waited for Gawain to drink more.
Though the woman hadn't appeared yet, the wine was already being poured generously—showing sincerity.
Suddenly, a commotion outside the tavern silenced the crowd.
Even the patrons stopped talking, covering their mouths, not daring to breathe.
Gawain looked confused.
"What happened? Did bad guys or monsters attack the town?"
After a pause, a trembling middle-aged man stepped forward and explained timidly, "It's not like that, Sir Knight. There's a woman living outside the town. She's very beautiful—prettier than any noble lady here—but… she's also very scary."
"Scary?" Gawain asked.
"Yes. She is incredibly powerful. Wielding a pitch-black sword, she can destroy houses with ease. She even cut off part of the hills outside the town with one swing."
"How can a woman have such power?"
Gawain was surprised.
Many were strong in this era—some through martial arts, others through magic, bloodline, or protection. But powerful women were rare.
Morgan and Manaka were two examples, able to crush mountains at level one and destroy cities with preparation.
But wielding such destructive power with a sword alone was uncommon.
"Tell me more. If she's an evil person, I vow as a knight of King Arthur to chop off her head and protect you."
He thought: if she wasn't a villain, surely King Arthur would accept a strong female knight.
Arthur often called Gawain useless and complained there was no talent in Camelot to share the load. Even a fool like Gawain knew his duty was to find capable people for his king.
Opportunity was fleeting—once lost, it would never return.
No matter what, overwhelming force was the answer.
"No, Sir Knight, you've misunderstood. She isn't evil. We just want her to leave, not to kill her. She's…" The man struggled to find the words. "She just has a destructive power unlike anyone else."
"Two years ago, she suddenly appeared in our town. She looked cold, didn't communicate, and kept to herself. We felt sorry for her and invited her to eat, even offered to build her a house to protect her from the wind and rain."
"And then?"
Gawain was intrigued.
"But that day, a monster invaded the town. She swung her sword and split the creature—hill-sized—in half. But her sword also destroyed half the houses, including the lord's mansion."
"I see. You helped, but brought trouble as well."
Gawain nodded. The woman meant well and wasn't evil. She could be trained as a knight.
With King Arthur around, no matter how wild someone was, he would bring them in line.
"That's all. After the incident, she left without a word. The next morning, we found a headless monster outside the town."
The middle-aged man's story went on.
Since that day, a dead monster mysteriously appeared outside the town daily.
At first, every day, then gradually less frequently—weekly, then monthly.
Later, people learned it was the woman who killed the monsters and dragged them outside. She would watch from afar to ensure the townsfolk found the bodies before disappearing.
"Until a year ago, she kept this routine. Then one day, she came to the town and spoke. She said she was a bounty hunter."