"What on earth..."
Before Tristan could raise the signal, Guinevere's group had already sensed the impending danger. They shed their heavy armor and raced back at full speed, heedless of potential ambushes.
As they stood outside Camelot City, the sight of flames engulfing the commoner districts, noble quarters, and Royal Palace confirmed their worst fears: the Blood Poison in the river had been unleashed.
"Sister Morgan, could you and Lancelot go to the Knight Academy and rally all the reserve knights? Tell them to prepare for slaughter."
Camelot City was ablaze, and the dying screams of its citizens carried five miles to their ears. Morgan and Lancelot exchanged worried glances with Guinevere before setting off to carry out her orders.
Morgan's status and reputation would command the students' respect, while Lancelot's abilities assured Guinevere that the task would be handled effectively.
As for her and the thirty knights under her command...
One advantage of possessing memories from a past life is the explosion of information in later eras. Through constant exposure, I've absorbed bits and pieces of countless schemes and strategies, Guinevere mused inwardly as she gazed at Camelot City.
The scene before her reminded her of Stratholme from World of Warcraft, and Arthas, the man mockingly dubbed "the Second Idiot."
In the game, grain infected with the undead plague was smuggled into Stratholme. By the time Arthas arrived with his army, the city's populace had already begun transforming into undead.
Choosing to slaughter the citizens would brand him a mass murderer, a stain he could never erase. Yet inaction meant allowing the entire city to turn into undead, leaving no one alive to save.
Faced with this trolley problem, Arthas unflinchingly chose the former, accepting eternal infamy.
Now, faced with a similar dilemma, Guinevere realized her only viable option was also the former. She couldn't simply stand by and watch Camelot City, the very city entrusted to her by the King of Knights herself, fall into ruin.
However, Guinevere's situation was far more favorable. The Ancestor Blood Toxin in the river wasn't as terrifying as the undead plague. According to Morgan's research, it required a catalyst to detonate.
Therefore, Guinevere only needed to eliminate the already transformed citizens and the innocent who couldn't understand orders.
As for the true culprits, their deaths were certain.
Moreover, her moral compass was far lower than Arthas's, the Paladin. When she decided on the massacre, she had already planned how to shift the blame.
I'll take responsibility for ordering the slaughter, but everyone must understand who forced me to make such a decision.
Unlike the knights who refused to believe the Church capable of such an act, Guinevere had already concluded that the Church was behind it.
Or rather, even if the Church wasn't truly responsible, she would make sure they were framed as the culprits.
-
"What's your condition?"
"Your Highness, after purging the filth and replenishing our rations, we've recovered about seventy percent of our strength."
"Seventy percent? That's enough."
Confidence was etched across Guinevere's face. Even if she felt uneasy, she had to reassure her subordinates.
"Let's go. Follow me."
"Yes!"
Without questioning their destination, the thirty knights responded in perfect unison, spurring their warhorses into a coordinated gallop.
As they approached the city gates, they saw them already sealed shut. The knights guarding the gate paced anxiously along the ramparts.
"Open the gate! We've returned! Send word to Tristan—tell him to organize the knights to clear the city district by district and have the common soldiers garrison the secured areas. Tell him all surviving civilians must remain where they are. Any who wander will be killed."
"Your Majesty, we can't open the gate! The citizens have blocked it completely! Some among them may already be infected by the Living Corpses. We can't let them out!"
"Open the gate! The Living Corpses can't survive past sunrise. They can't withstand the sun!"
Outside Camelot City stretched a flat plain, offering no shelter. If these people truly became Living Corpses, their retained intelligence would prevent them from straying far.
Fueled by Guinevere's unwavering resolve, the Camelot gate creaked open. At the narrowest gap, someone was crushed into a bloody pulp. As the gate widened enough for people to pass, others were trampled to the ground.
A hundred meters from the gate, Guinevere and her thirty knights watched the carnage unfold. Only their restless steeds stirred uneasily.
"Your Highness, we likely won't be able to wait for all the civilians to evacuate. The crowd is so dense that even a full-force charge might not break through."
Guinevere's knights were veterans who had served her for years. Though their individual combat skills couldn't match those of the Round Table Knights, they possessed considerable experience and insight.
Influenced by Guinevere, their moral standards were lower than those of typical knights.
So, neither waiting nor charging seemed viable. What could they do now?
As they surged with the crowd, the tail end of the procession remained out of sight behind the city gates. Guinevere instinctively placed her hand on her Replica Holy Sword. Unleashing a single strike would clear the gateway, but it would also sever her bond with the King of Knights.
Should I be grateful that I value the King of Knights far more than ordinary civilians? If I place the King of Knights on the lesser side of the scale, I could, without hesitation, sacrifice the many to save the few.
She would bear the blame for ordering the slaughter, but Guinevere would never act in a way that she couldn't explain to the King of Knights.
She could only try reasoning with the crowd: "Shout to them! If they want their families and friends to live, if they trust me, Guinevere, then stop the chaos, clear the path, and allow us to enter the city to save more lives! To shatter the hell within these walls!"
At Guinevere's command, her thirty knights began channeling their mana and shouting in unison. With their perfect coordination, the thirty voices roared like lions, ensuring every civilian at the city gate heard the proclamation and froze in stunned silence.
What does chaos fear most? The answer, of course, is order. When the crowd in the gate tunnel saw Guinevere's flowing silver hair and the lightly armored knights behind her, they instinctively pressed themselves against the walls, trying to clear a path for her.
But the tunnel was already packed beyond capacity.
"Proclamation! Everyone inside the tunnel, run out now! No one is allowed to enter! Clear the sides!"
At this moment, knights and soldiers on the city walls began enforcing order. Only the knight who had responded earlier raced along the ramparts toward the Royal Palace.
Not long ago, after receiving Tristan's orders, only the gate guards remained stationed at their posts instead of converging on the Royal Palace.
As the knight sprinted, he heard Guinevere's knights shout their command twice more.
Looking back, he first saw the frozen crowd, then the civilians who hadn't yet entered the gate tunnel. Despite the looming threat of ghoul attacks, they stubbornly cleared a path for Guinevere.
This was the authority Guinevere had cultivated throughout the winter, and it served as proof...
"It seems the enemy forces are limited; they haven't even infiltrated the populace with agitators."
As Guinevere gazed at the cleared city gate and the central avenue beyond, which had been ceded by the people, she could scarcely believe their success. She felt ashamed for even considering using her Noble Phantasm to "clean up" the area.
These people are willing to trust me, Guinevere, with their lives.
"Move! At top speed!"
With a crack of her whip, Guinevere charged ahead, leading the charge. As she galloped past the kneeling citizens on either side, a fire ignited in her heart, growing hotter with each passing second.
Guinevere... she desperately wanted to cut down enemies.
Fortunately, as she emerged from the crowd, the spire of the Cathedral came into view.
Proclaimed to be the shepherd of the world for the Lord, the Cathedral stood at the border between the commoners' district and the nobles' quarter, symbolizing the Church's impartiality in guiding both commoners and nobles.