NOVEL WEB Chapter 144: Artoria’s Resolve
Gawain stared at the Tooth Clan fairies before him, exhausted after three days and nights of continuous purges. He rubbed his temples. "No wonder their pass rate was only slightly higher than Aurora's Wind Clan…" Killing them all in one sweep had seemed appealing at first, but once Oxford's fairies were decimated, the region would be virtually incapacitated. Fairies did regrow quickly, but even for them that took time—and in wartime, any delay could prove disastrous.
Yet because of Beril's threat, Bawanshi was nearly hysterical, and Woodworth had inexplicably given Gawain free rein to slaughter Oxford's fairies. Now Gawain found himself in a bind. He had intended to spare some population—those who failed the test wouldn't be executed immediately; he'd have his subordinates investigate their past deeds, and if nothing too egregious surfaced, perhaps let them be. But those investigations drove his blood pressure sky-high: for every ten examined, at least eight revealed monstrous crimes. Even merely summarizing their offenses made Gawain seethe.
Beyond the usual cruelty—oppressing humans, abusing the weak—many Tooth Clan fairies, despite Woodworth's bans on eating meat, secretly hunted for food. Denied open access to livestock, they preyed on human slaves in hiding. Gawain knew this wasn't the moment for a full-scale purge—but once aware of these abominable deeds, he couldn't restrain himself. By the time he realized his actions, he had already slaughtered over half of Oxford's fairies; the rest fled desperately. He attempted to seal exits, but without all his trusted troops at hand, he couldn't intercept everyone. And then came even worse news:
"What? The Prophetess and her group escaped?!" Gawain's blood boiled at the report.
Several hours earlier…
Inside Oxford's dungeon, Oberon lifted his head slightly. Through the small ventilation grate above, he could glimpse vague movements outside.
"Something's happening out there, Oberon? Feels like many people are on the move," Gareth asked from the adjacent cell.
"Couldn't you look for yourself?" Oberon replied, tilting his head. After a moment's thought, he yawned lazily, deciding there was no need to explain.
"Not tall enough?" Gareth retorted.
"My height isn't that much greater than yours—maybe twenty or thirty centimeters."
"But Oberon, you have wings! Fly up and see!"
"Sorry, those wings are purely decorative. I can't actually fly."
"Ah! So useless, Oberon."
"You ungrateful—when you were sleeping soundly, I was running around all night!" Oberon protested.
"Alright, enough. Don't quarrel." Artoria's voice cut through, silencing them both.
"How is the situation, Artoria?" Oberon lowered his voice to ask.
"According to the hostility-detection radar, most of the guards have withdrawn; they seem to have relaxed surveillance on us," Artoria whispered, glancing at the small radar device in her palm.
"But for some reason, they've gathered in large numbers at an open plaza nearby—and there appear to be many other fairies there. I can't tell exactly how many."
The hostility-detection radar she'd improvised was rudimentary: it simply mapped nearby hostile intent within a few dozen meters. If not for losing her invisibility cloak and Stone Cap in previous battles, she might not even have thought to bring it now. But at this moment, seeing the radar's edge turn into a vast red cluster of hostility, Artoria frowned.
"Oberon, do you know what they're doing over there?" she asked.
"I have some guesses based on recent observations," Oberon replied. "But until we see for ourselves, you won't truly appreciate it. Better to confirm after we escape."
"Always keeping secrets… fine, as you wish." Artoria sighed. "Let's prepare to leave."
"But we still have these mana-sealing shackles. We can't use magic at all," Gareth fretted.
"Do you think I have a tool to remove these shackles?" Artoria shook her head. "Most of my devices require magic to function; with our mana sealed, they're useless."
"Then how can we escape?" Gareth despaired—until Artoria struck her shackled wrist forcefully against the iron bars. Repeating the motion several times, she bent the metal until the shackle loosened, then with a grunt tore it apart.
"All done!" she kicked the weakened bars aside, shattering the magically reinforced iron. "Now I can use magic. I'll help you next."
Gareth stared in disbelief. How could Artoria possess such raw strength—stronger than hers? Before he could question, a guard drawn by the noise crept near—and Artoria, wielding a length of rebar, knocked him unconscious with a practiced strike. Gareth's mind raced: "Why is she so skilled with brute force? Wasn't she supposed to be the strategist, not a frontline fighter?"
Oberon watched quietly. Gareth turned to him: "Artoria has a device to break the shackles—any chance she has a tool to pick locks too?"
"My lockcraft doesn't need magic," Artoria replied, producing a simple hairpin and deftly picking the lock.
Gareth's jaw dropped: "A magical lockpick that works without mana?"
Oberon offered calmly: "Magic need not be cumbersome. If Artoria calls it magic, it is magic—such is the convenience of sorcery."
Artoria then produced a metal ring the diameter of a bucket. The device description appeared in her mind:
Custom Magical Garment: Phasing Ring
Rarity: ?
Created by a magician skilled in physical arts through inexplicable principles. When this ring is applied to a surface, it creates a zone through which one can pass. Though absurd, magic can indeed be so handy for those who defy reason.
"With this, we'll escape," Artoria declared.
Using the Phasing Ring, you successfully slipped out of Oxford's prison before the guards fully detected the disturbance.
You learned that your equipment was stored in Oxford's treasury. By combining the Phasing Ring and hostility radar, you avoided all enemies and retrieved your gear.
Out of curiosity, before fully departing Oxford, you investigated the location showing massive hostility on your radar.
There, you witnessed… hell itself.
She had stumbled upon a nightmarish scene: countless severed limbs and bodies piled into small hills, blood flowing down in rivulets to form pools. The stench of blood nearly made Artoria faint as cries and wails echoed in the air. Among the corpses, many fairies were bound in mana-sealing shackles, arranged like livestock in long lines, marched onto execution platforms. One after another, despite frantic pleas, their hearts were cut out—heaped onto the ever-growing pile of bones. Occasionally, soldiers hurled fireballs to incinerate the corpses, filling the air with choking, charred stench.
"Why… why is this happening?" Artoria choked out. Looking up—amid that mass of carnage—she saw someone seated high above it all, as the demon-king of this man-made hell. It was Gawain. Though she had braced herself for his cruelty, witnessing it in person brought her knees nearly to the ground. Gawain had changed beyond recognition—she realized then, truly realized, how monstrous he had become.
Gareth caught her as she swayed; both their faces turned ashen at the sight. Gareth opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. Finally Artoria steadied herself and said:
"We must go. Join our allies with this intelligence. Only then can we find a way to defeat him."
She glanced once more toward Gawain's position, then set her jaw in determination: the next time they met, it would be to kill him. With that resolve, she and Gareth and Oberon slipped away swiftly. Gawain, sensing something, glanced toward her last location—but saw nothing, and soon returned his focus to the pressing matters at hand.
Artoria's heart pounded as they fled Oxford. She had fought alongside Gawain once, believing in their shared cause. Now, she had witnessed his descent into a demon-like tyrant. Until now, she had denied it; now, she knew the truth: she must overthrow him for the sake of Britain's future.
As they moved toward the rendezvous point, Artoria clenched her fists. The weight of so many innocent lives lost under Gawain's rule pressed on her. Her resolve crystallized: no matter the cost, she would gather allies, uncover his weaknesses, and end his reign of terror. Only then could she atone for the failures that had allowed this horror—and hope to restore a path forward for their world.