"Burn them! Burn them! Burn them!"
Outside the Cathedral, public burnings had been carried out daily for over ten days. Nearly a month had passed since the Night of Calamity struck Camelot.
During the first half of the month, everyone worked together to clean up the aftermath. The second half was dedicated to public trials of sinners from churches and convents across the land.
With solid evidence and witnesses, each trial was focused and precise...
As time passed, even the most staunch believers gradually acknowledged the need for a Purification Plan within Great Britain's Church.
However, Guinevere not only punished the guilty; she also rewarded the virtuous.
Those condemned to death were burned at the stake outside the Cathedral. Those deemed worthy of recognition had their good deeds publicly proclaimed, allowing these virtuous individuals to restore some of the Church's tarnished reputation and lay the foundation for Guinevere's subsequent reorganization efforts.
With a solid foundation of faith, most would support a Purification Plan. But if the Church were to be abolished entirely, even the King of Knights would raise objections.
"Great Mage Merlin," one of the knights asked, "are you saying this man is No. 2 of the Holy Church Burial Agency and the mastermind behind this entire incident?"
"Indeed..." Merlin Ambrosius replied.
In the Throne Room, today's Round Table meeting welcomed an unexpected guest: Merlin Ambrosius, Great Britain's most powerful mage.
He had come bearing gifts for Camelot, along with his sincere apologies.
As Merlin explained, he had had the opportunity to completely prevent this disaster, but his indecision had allowed events to spiral out of control to their current state.
Despite Merlin's self-reproach, none of the assembled knights, including Guinevere, held him accountable.
Perhaps this was because they had never expected much from him. Bringing back the culprit was already the greatest surprise they could have hoped for.
"Master Merlin, thank you so much."
This was the King of Knights.
"Merlin, you old geezer! You actually did something useful for once?"
This was Morgan.
"Merlin... um...? What's gotten into you?"
This was Guinevere.
Apart from these three, the expressions of the Round Table Knights present were a colorful array, with not a hint of blame among them.
"I... never mind. Do as you see fit."
As Merlin spoke, he felt a wave of shame. He struggled to maintain his usual detached demeanor, continuing,
"The magical restraints I've placed on him will last for seven days. But for safety's sake, you should have Lancelot and Gawain take turns guarding him."
Merlin still had much he wanted to say, but he couldn't articulate his thoughts. He remained unaccustomed to the chaotic interference of so many emotions churning within him.
He departed once more, leaving behind his captive and the lingering fragrance of flowers in the Throne Room.
To be honest, for this one time only, Guinevere genuinely thanked Merlin from the bottom of her heart.
After he brought back the gift and personally declared that the culprit behind the Night of Calamity was none other than himself, no Round Table Knight doubted who the true mastermind was.
Some knights still distrusted Guinevere, but they placed complete faith in Merlin.
"Your Majesty," one knight exclaimed, "I never imagined the Church could be so corrupt from within. Queen, I agree with your plan. After purging the Church in Great Britain, we must one day shatter the Roman Holy See and purify the entire Church!"
As the saying goes, "Love deeply, criticize fiercely." Guinevere had only briefly mentioned retaliating against the Holy See headquarters at the start of the meeting, hinting at future conquests of Gaul and Rome...
Yet this knight, who had once trusted the Church and believed in the Lord, immediately declared his intention to storm Rome after the truth struck him like a hammer.
"Yes, exactly! We must breach Rome and thoroughly cleanse His worldly servants!"
Once someone spoke up, the Round Table Knights erupted into a cacophony, transforming the Throne Room into a bustling marketplace.
Meanwhile, only Priest Andrew, who could barely maintain his human form, sneered. Having heard Merlin emphasize the prophecies of the red and white dragons, he had mentally prepared for this spectacle.
He couldn't fathom Camelot's full strength, but he knew the Holy Church only revealed a fraction of its true power—just the tip of the iceberg.
Even now, he refused to believe Camelot's prophecy of conquering Gaul and Rome would ever come to pass.
"A bunch of arrogant fools," he muttered, closing his eyes and snorting coldly, determined to shield the final moments of his life from their idiocy.
His words reached the knights' ears, and one of them immediately kicked him.
Watching this, the King of Knights moved to intervene, but Guinevere restrained her. Afterward, Guinevere herself rose and delivered a satisfying kick with all her might.
"Everyone, join in! Put some force into it. Those who don't kick hard enough next time might not get my food. But be careful not to kick him to death outright."
Having kicked him herself, Guinevere's mood improved. She watched as the Round Table Knights lined up shoulder to shoulder, each taking turns kicking him in waves, her satisfaction growing with each wave.
But this was still far from enough...
"Guinevere, he is, after all, an important figure in the Holy Church."
"That's why we should vent all our anger on him! If appearances weren't a concern, I'd do something even more vile and satisfying. Like...
Gareth! What are you doing taking your pants off? You're not allowed to pee in the Throne Room! This isn't a toilet!"
Younger and more daring in her love and hate, Gareth had no reservations. Yet she was still a girl, and among the Round Table Knights, only she and a few others warranted Guinevere's immediate restraint.
But after stopping her, Guinevere lamented that, apart from Gareth, all the other Round Table Knights were proper knights who would never behave unbecomingly before the King.
"Gareth, the actions you want to take can be entrusted to the families of the victims."
Nearly 30,000 had died, and nearly 100,000 were wounded. Had it not been for Guinevere and the Mages' efforts that night, the death toll would have risen by another 10,000.
In Camelot City, with a population of less than 500,000, such catastrophic losses meant almost every household was in mourning.
The people of Camelot harbored a hatred for the mastermind behind the disaster that none in the Throne Room could possibly match.
"My King, may I?"
Guinevere gazed at the King of Knights, her face alight with anticipation. Though some knights felt this went too far, they dared not contradict Guinevere, whose emotions were clearly running high.
Despite Merlin's suppression of his magical power, Priest Andrew's physical resilience remained. Even after being brutally kicked by dozens of Round Table Knights, he could still move, spitting blood-flecked saliva toward Guinevere.
At that moment, the wind shifted, blowing the bloody spittle back onto Priest Andrew's face. The King of Knights, who had initiated this act, clenched her fist, her resolve hardening.
"Guinevere, handle this as you see fit."
"Understood."
Having obtained the answer she sought, Guinevere felt a twisted gratitude toward Priest Andrew for his lack of tact. She immediately issued her orders:
"For the next three days, Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawain will take turns parading him through the streets. The people may inflict any retribution they deem fit, but ensure he doesn't die.
Three days hence, I will summon the newly appointed Archbishop to declare him a heretic. Then, before God, we shall slowly burn him alive over a small fire!
If God does not save him then, it will prove his guilt and confirm the righteousness of our actions."
Interrogating him for information? Torturing him for the 'Miracle'? Demanding ransom? Guinevere needed none of it. She simply desired this architect of their suffering to meet the most agonizing death imaginable.