85 Escape

*Ding—!*

*Ding—!*

*Clang—!*

The holy sword, 'Excalibur', clashed intensely with the demonic sword known as 'True Demon Neardark', creating a flurry of movements that surpassed the limits of the human eye.

Golden flashes and black lightning intertwined, erupting with a terrifying force akin to a thunderstorm.

Hundreds of gleaming golden particles circled around Artoria, creating an ethereal atmosphere as if she existed in another world.

Under the protection of Avalon, Strout's attacks did not affect her whatsoever.

In this situation, it should have been Artoria dominating Strout in combat. However, from an outsider's perspective, it seemed as if they were evenly matched.

This wasn't Artoria holding back intentionally but rather a necessity.

As Strout realized that his attacks were futile against the golden-haired girl before him, he immediately shifted his focus to the surrounding knights.

Artoria knew that these knights were no match for him, so she followed his lead, repeatedly blocking his assaults. Unconsciously, she began to lose the initiative, falling into the rhythm of his attacks.

Hence, they found themselves in this evenly matched situation.

Of course, Artoria could have chosen to attack the Dead Apostles around her to pressure Strout. However, her code of chivalry prevented her from taking such actions. The biggest reason was that her 'Intuition' also told her that even if she did, it wouldn't have any effect.

She had a feeling that Strout would just ignore them. Even if they died in front of him, he wouldn't even spare a glance.

"Are you not ashamed of attacking them while your opponent is me?!" Artoria sternly questioned her opponent, swinging her Excalibur with all her might.

Strout backtracked, evading the strike.

In their previous clashes, Strout had realized with absolute clarity that the petite girl before him was far from fragile. The power emanating from her seemingly delicate arms was horrifying, suffocating even. He couldn't help but feel as though he were wrestling with a dragon.

His demonic sword was already inferior in quality to her holy sword. Combined with her terrifying strength, attempting to parry her blows would soon render his sword completely useless.

"I've said it before, I'm a knight who has forsaken honor and chosen to descend into darkness. As long as I can achieve my goal, I don't care about the methods."

Strout calmly responded and sneakily glanced in the distance.

He had already delayed the golden-haired girl long enough, so why hadn't the princess taken any action yet?

Moments ago, he distinctly felt the power of the 'Master of Blood and Contract' enveloping this place. However, not long after, that power vanished suddenly, and until now, there had been no sign of any activity.

'Could something have gone wrong on Her Highness's end?'

Strout's gaze flickered slightly. As a servant of Altrouge, he could establish contact with her at any time from this distance. But no matter how many times he called out, he received no response.

This gradually weighed heavy on his heart.

It seemed like something might have indeed gone wrong on her end.

*Swing—!*

With a sweet cry, the holy sword enveloped in golden light descended upon him once more.

Strout narrowed his eyes. This time, he didn't choose to step back but instead adopted a defensive posture, going against his usual style.

His wealth of combat experience allowed him to make a split-second decision—take this strike, use the opponent's momentum to exit the battlefield, and then rush to check on the princess's situation.

For him, nothing was more important than protecting the princess's safety.

*Swish—!*

The holy sword came down, but the expected immense force didn't materialize. Instead, the golden sword's illusion-like image instantly dissipated.

A wisp of breeze ruffled the stray hairs on Strout's forehead, and his pupils suddenly shrank to pinprick size!

*Splat!*

The golden holy sword pierced through his heart, and crimson blood sprayed onto the ground, like eerie and exotic blossoms.

*Cough!*

Strout coughed out a substantial amount of blood and staggered back a few steps. He thrust his sword into the ground for support, clutching the wound on his chest.

"You—"

"My King once taught me that in the face of despicable people, one must be even more despicable."

As Strout wanted to speak, Artoria interrupted him and spoke firmly while her azure eyes bore an extremely serious expression.

"...Is that so?"

Strout's lips twitched slightly, and on his stiff face appeared a forced semblance of a 'smile'.

"Your King... truly sees through things, huh..."

With that, Strout collapsed to the ground with a thud. The demonic sword in his hand clanged as it hit the ground, and the evil aura surrounding it gradually dissipated.

Artoria watched him in silence for a moment, her azure eyes revealing a hint of complexity.

After a while, she sighed softly and turned to leave.

*Whoosh—*

After walking about five or six meters, a breeze blew from behind. Artoria inexplicably had an impulse and turned abruptly.

The spot where Strout had fallen was now empty, and his body had vanished without a trace. Even the demonic sword beside him had completely disappeared!

If Arkhan had taught Artoria some idiom, she would undoubtedly use a word to describe the current situation.

Golden cicada sheds its shell!

{T/N: The act of escaping from a difficult or dangerous situation by using a clever trick or strategy.}

"Awful!"

Artoria clenched her delicate fists, gritting her white teeth, and her refined face was filled with frustration.

After a while, she reluctantly loosened her grip and sighed.

"If Teacher finds out about this, I'll probably get scolded again..."

Artoria muttered to herself in frustration as she gazed at the battle of her teacher.

===

*BOOOM—!*

The energy cannon formed by the gathering of magical energy was fired at Altrouge. The crimson blood mist surrounding her rushed forward and blocked it.

"Huff... huff..."

Tiny beads of sweat ran down Altrouge's smooth cheeks. She breathed heavily, and a hint of weariness appeared in her crimson eyes.

At this moment, she was no longer the petite girl from earlier but had transformed into a full-fledged mature woman, with her body becoming curvier, and her strength significantly increased.

However, even in her second form, she seemed somewhat overwhelmed, and the crimson mist swirling around her had already thinned considerably.

The woman who had suddenly appeared was truly terrifying.

"What's the matter? Can't handle it after I finally let loose?"

A leisurely voice came from above.

In mid-air, Morgan sat on a throne formed of mercury, overlooking Altrouge on the ground like a goddess.

Her pale golden eyes gazed down with superiority, her jade hand cradling her cheek. Her long, slender legs crossed each other beneath her black dress, revealing a faint, ivory-like radiance.