[Although there were some unpleasant moments in between, thanks to your mediation, Artoria soon rejoined the group.]
[You proceeded alongside Nokknarei, and half a day later you arrived at Edinburgh in the north.]
[Since Nokknarei needed to attend to affairs in Edinburgh, you were temporarily housed within the city.]
[To learn more about Edinburgh, the two of you agreed to split up and gather intelligence separately.]
"Attention citizens of Edinburgh! Lady Nokknarei has returned to the kingdom!"
"To strengthen the northern plains' defenses, we must lend even more strength to Lady Nokknarei!"
"Shops on the streets may stay open after sunset—let the city's lights never go out!"
"Nokknarei loves the sleepless city—may the Royal Clan and our queenly city prosper!"
When Guinevere arrived to meet you, she saw a northern faerie soldier shouting proclamations in the street, acting like a town crier.
No—wait, it wasn't just one faerie soldier. A few steps on, Guinevere saw others wielding megaphones, each broadcasting messages at regular intervals:
"Lady Nokknarei values everyone's work ethic! Military service, healthcare, office work, transportation, production—whatever you do, we guarantee pay commensurate with your effort. Work hard!"
"If you spot any faerie with Mors disease, protect them immediately and bring them here! Early-stage patients have a high cure rate! Treatment is free!"
"Lady Nokknarei will not rank faeries like Morgan did—no matter your station, she treats all equally. Such a ruler is fit to become Britain's next monarch!"
"I fled south a decade ago and now I'm part of the Royal Clan. Nokknarei even shares her power with me. I'll do anything for her—everything on clearance for twenty mph, everything twenty mph!"
Despite the odd tone to some of the messages, the ceaseless propaganda machinery filled every street corner with fervor. Every faerie hurried busily to their work; the city felt more prosperous than Gloucester or Salisbury.
If you had to describe it, Edinburgh seemed like one great machine, every citizen a cog spinning at full speed.
"Ugh, it feels like we've entered some sinister empire…" Artoria murmured, feeling an indescribable pressure from this well-oiled machine.
"Really?" Guinevere looked surprised. "Isn't it nice that everyone works under the same banner and ideals?"
"Wow…" Artoria peeked through her faerie-eye and saw Guinevere truly thought so. She shrank back. "Guinevere, you haven't fallen under Nokknarei's enchantment, have you? Is it true she uses charm magic to control her citizens?"
"Hahaha, Artoria, you really have an imagination."
Guinevere laughed at Artoria's wide-eyed expression, then curled her middle finger under her thumb, built up a little force, and tapped Artoria's forehead.
With a crisp "pop," Artoria shrieked,
"That hurts!"
Clutching her head in indignation, Artoria glared, and Guinevere pinched her cheeks:
"How do you feel now? Clear-headed? The charm spell should have worn off, right?"
"What are you talking about? I meant you were charmed! If you're going to knock heads, you should tap your own!"
Artoria lunged to flick Guinevere's forehead, but Guinevere smiled and reached to hold her back—only to discover Artoria's strength far exceeded her expectations. Like a rampaging boar, Artoria's grip threatened to overwhelm her. Flustered, Guinevere stammered:
"No, no—weren't you the one talking nonsense just now? Nokknarei's your friend; you know she might use charm magic. And why would I be so easily charmed?!"
Artoria paused mid-flick.
"…Oh, right."
She opened her simulator's status panel and found Guinevere's unlocked skill:
[Skill: Still Water A+]
[A perfectly tranquil mind, responding to all things without attachment.]
[The pinnacle of the martial artist's spirit—calm, focused, undistracted.]
[While active, grants massive spirit resistance and enables the user to maintain composure in battle.]
"…Indeed. Guinevere couldn't possibly be so easily charmed!" Artoria smiled, reassured.
"See? Isn't it wise to recognize that?" Guinevere said, relieved that Artoria ceased her attack.
She'd underestimated Artoria's strength—one of those taps might have given her a concussion.
"Now, let's continue gathering intel," Guinevere said, taking Artoria's hand and leading her deeper into Edinburgh's streets.
Although being immune to charms was good news, Artoria still felt she'd forgotten something important. As Guinevere pulled her away, she thought to herself.
…
[You pressed on, and after walking through the main thoroughfare, you eventually arrived in a more remote district.]
[Here, you discovered rows of tents housing many faerie refugees.]
[You sensed an unusually high number of Wind Clan faeries in this area.]
[Noticing your arrival, a Wind Clan faerie approached to speak.]
"Ah, newcomers? Welcome to the Edinburgh settlement zone—this is where refugees from all corners live while awaiting Lady Nokknarei's distribution of 'Power.'"
"But everyone here has citizenship and work. Though it's tents, they shield from wind and rain. Once Nokknarei defeats Woodworth and the Morgan remnant Tristan, she'll unify Britain and grant you all full Royal Clan status."
"So relax—pick your tent spot. With luck, you land a medical post. Mors disease is nothing to fear!"
"'Distribution of Power'? What does that mean?" Guinevere asked, intrigued by the strange term.
"Huh? You didn't know? You arrived here without a clue?" The faerie frowned, then studied Guinevere's pointed ear:
"Wait— that ear shape… You have a strong faerie aura, yet you're human? Why bring a human to Nokknarei's city when she despises humans?"
He paused, then asked:
"Tell me—who's the most beautiful faerie in Britain?"
"The most beautiful faerie? Opinions vary, but if I had to pick one widely admired… it's Knight Lancelot of the Dragon Clan," Guinevere replied.
"I see… Indeed, Lancelot as a Dragon faerie is beautiful beyond doubt. Right, now to answer your question."
The faerie mumbled, then continued:
"Nokknarei shares her own Power with other faeries—weak ones can grow strong. Those who receive her Power become members of the Royal Clan. Thus, you could say Nokknarei alone is the Royal Clan, or that all of Edinburgh's faeries are Royal Clan."
"Sorry to bother you—" He glanced nervously and slipped away among the tents.
"That one's suspicious," Artoria said, her faerie-eye discerning hidden motives.
"Indeed—probably a spy from another faction," Guinevere nodded. "Everyone else spoke of Nokknarei with reverence; he did not even call her 'Lady.'"
"But does Nokknarei truly hate humans?"
[After roughly understanding Edinburgh's situation, you returned to the lodging Nokknarei prepared.]
[While exchanging intel with Oberon and the others, you learned a concerning fact:]
"Nokknarei hates humans? Yes, there's such a rumor. The reason… I heard it stems from the previous queen, Mab."
After Guinevere recounted the day's events and questions, Oberon nodded:
"Legend says, in the faerie calendar—long before the human reckonings—four great wars named Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter took place."
"During the Summer War, Queen Mab of the North had the Southern faeries on the brink of annihilation. But her human consort and lieutenant betrayed her, leaving her heartbroken and unable to continue the fight."
"Then the so-called Savior Cabal took advantage, leading the Southern faeries in a counterattack. Queen Mab was forced to sue for peace and swear never to wage war on the South again."
"Otherwise, the Northern faeries—almost wiped out in the Spring War—would never have agreed to let their Rain Clan perish and be replaced in the Six Great Clans."
"Ah…" Rhadra-Bit laughed softly. "So it makes sense that Mab's descendant Nokknarei would despise humans. Indeed, it's merciful she doesn't seek to destroy all humans."
"In that case, tomorrow's alliance talks will likely be difficult," Percival sighed. "We must steel ourselves. Though all of you are tired, let's give it our all again tomorrow."
[The next day, as expected, Nokknarei received you and began alliance negotiations—presenting harsh terms:]
"I will ally with you, but I alone am queen."
To Artoria and the others, Nokknarei rested a hand on her hip and said flatly:
"You must cede command of our allied forces to me. You will obey me."
"And as for humans in the Round Table Army—well, you'll be bees. Go work in my chocolate factory."
She sneered.
"After all, if war breaks out, you'd just be cannon fodder. Being bees is far more pleasant."
"How insulting! The Round Table Army is Britain's strongest. Your terms are disgraceful! You promised to apologize for your earlier insults—are you reneging?!"
Artoria protested.
"No, no—I did acknowledge your champions, but only those who fought the duel. I admit some humans are valiant heroes, but most humans lack the baseline attributes to fight faerie battles."
Nokknarei raised a finger and tapped it at Artoria's cheek, swaying it gently.
"Besides, you've already defeated the Norich Calamity. Human armies serve no further purpose."
"Enough nonsense! I'm sick of your arrogance. If you want us to obey, prove it! Nokknarei—one-on-one or team battle, we have absolute confidence! Let our troops decide!"
Artoria slapped Nokknarei's hand away and issued a challenge.
"Very well, if you seek battle, battle you shall have!" Nokknarei matched her.
"Bet the future throne of Britain, our crowns, our pride and honor! The victor commands; the loser obeys. Plus an extra: the winner wins the right to wed the 'beauty!'"
"That last wager is invalid! If you want him, earn him yourself!" Artoria snapped.
"And how shall this duel be fought? A good old-fashioned brawl?" Artoria continued.
"Impossible—this is Edinburgh, the chocolate capital of Britain. We cannot resort to savagery."
Nokknarei smiled coldly.
"For a contest of dignity and beauty, the method is obvious."
"—The Valentine Mab Competition: deciding the victor by crafting the most exquisite historical fire-forged confection!"
"Uh… what?" Artoria's face froze.
"Don't know? Well, you are a country bumpkin… no shame in it."
"Stop calling me that! If I'm so rustic, how do you eat your own rice?!" Artoria bristled.
"But you stole my garden's chocolate."
Artoria nearly choked.
"No, Lady Nokknarei, I paid your lieutenant double the mph price for those chocolates—everything was above-board."
Seeing Artoria at a loss, Guinevere interjected:
"And, if I may, we're not native faeries—so we know nothing of this Mab Competition. Could you explain it?"
Nokknarei's gaze flicked to Guinevere and lingered, then she cleared her throat:
"Reasonable question. The Valentine Mab Competition is Queen Mab's legacy: 'Whoever crafts the most delicious chocolate shall be queen.' Intriguing law, is it not?"
"Why is the queen tied to chocolate? Did I wander into a Valentine's Day festival?" Guinevere quipped.
"Then the judge shall be me: Karen the Little Devil, chocolate faerie!" A purple-skinned faerie popped out of the corner.
"Hey! Who summoned you? Is this really the main plot or just another gimmick?!" Guinevere groaned at yet another Servant face.
"And yes, I'm literally called 'Devil Karen'—no pretense."
"Competition is at noon tomorrow. Preparation will be in Edinburgh Cathedral's kitchens. Each contestant may bring one assistant: Artoria uses the Star Kitchen; Nokknarei uses the Moon Kitchen. Any objections? If none, it's settled!"
"Fine! No problem! I have a certain someone in mind to gift—my motivation is sky-high! I'll make the best chocolate ever seen even in Gloucester!" Nokknarei declared confidently.
"Wait—seriously deciding a battle by chocolate? That's absurd!" Artoria panicked.
"But those are the rules—sixteen centuries old. Even queen and prophecy child must obey!" Karen boomed.
"No, hold on, this is unreasonable, Artoria, we refuse—" Guinevere began, but Nokknarei covered her mouth, mocking Artoria:
"Can't even make chocolate for your beloved? Then again, you're a boar-rushing bumpkin—how could you possess any feminine grace?"
"Hey, Artoria—" Guinevere started, but Artoria, furious, leapt up:
"Fine! Let's do it! I'll make you regret those words!"
[What began as a serious negotiation devolved into a bizarre chocolate contest, and Artoria was swept up in it.]
[Lacking any chocolate-making experience, Artoria pinned her hopes on you.]
"Please, Guinevere—be my assistant in making chocolate!" Artoria, tears in her eyes over her impulsive challenge, begged you.
Guinevere felt faint. She now understood Oberon's earlier exasperation.
"In short… here's an instruction booklet. Let's follow it."
…
[You found a chocolate recipe in the kitchen and suggested following it.]
[As you began, you noticed Artoria was surprisingly adept at cooking—though she'd never made chocolate, she learned quickly from the instructions.]
"Oh— I almost forgot, I can cook."
Outside, noticing her simulation self's ease with chocolate-making, "Artoria" tapped her head in surprise.
Though she'd nearly zero cooking skill in her own life, in the third simulation as a humble villager, she had trained in cooking and even baking—her cookies once earned Guinevere's praise. Gaining that simulation's memories naturally granted her that expertise.
But to protect her core self, the system let those memories fade unless actively recalled—so she nearly forgot her pastry skills.
Thus, Guinevere, who'd prepared to do all the work, quickly realized Artoria's mastery in the kitchen meant she merely played handmaiden.
Her only contribution was pondering shapes—finally suggesting the classic heart-shaped chocolate.
"Strange… I recall Artoria once hailed as the rising star of the dark culinary world?" Guinevere mused.
Realizing the simulator memories could transfer, "Guinevere" felt a twist of dismay.
"How—why did she get the full version?!"
"Who's the real time-traveler?!"
Meanwhile, the simulation marched on:
[As Artoria's chocolate-making progressed smoothly, someone knocked at the kitchen door.]
[You opened it to find Eiken, Nokknarei's lieutenant. He reported that Lady Nokknarei's chocolate preparations were on hold and resting, and she wished for your company.]
"No way! She must think she can't beat me head-on, so she's stalling our progress?!" Artoria shot up.
"Lady Nokknarei foresaw this reaction. She asked me to invite your assistant to keep her company. Meanwhile, she'll halt operations outside your kitchen, giving you the chance to get ahead." Eiken replied calmly.
"That's impossible—I can't push Guinevere into the lion's den—"
"I'll go see what she's up to," Guinevere interjected. "Surely Nokknarei wouldn't lie here, right?"
"That's true—she's too proud to lie in such a matter."
"Then I'll go. I can't do much here, but gathering intel at her place could delay her. It's not a bad idea." Guinevere smiled.
"But—" Artoria hesitated, but Guinevere and Eiken left.
"Ah well, Nokknarei's charm won't affect Guinevere anyway." Artoria comforted herself while stirring the chocolate.
Yet she still felt she'd forgotten something earlier today…
Moments later, Artoria opened the party menu, checked Guinevere's skill panel, and reread the Still Water description.
[While active, grants high spirit resistance.]
"That's right—charms shouldn't work… but why do I feel so uneasy?"
This time, as she stared at the skill, an extra dialog popped up:
[Regarding spirit-based attack mechanics:]
[If the user does not intend to resist a charm attack, high resistance does not activate.]
With a clatter, Artoria's utensil fell to the floor.