Crazy Britain:They’re All Raising Me

— Alas, my life ends here.

When both Artoria and Ffwanxi grabbed him, Guinevere knew with grim certainty that he was done for.

If this had been a debt incurred in the simulations, he might still have wriggled out of it. As a so-called "ordinary NPC" without even an emulator, he could've played dumb.

But now? The blades at his throat were made of his very own words.

So what could he do?

Still—humans have a will to survive.

Guinevere wasn't like his simulated self, always stuck in a negative Morale spiral. He figured maybe—just maybe—he could still salvage this.

He began analyzing the "question."

Strip away the surface and it was obvious: this wasn't really about yesterday's conversation. The real issue was the unspoken "Which of us do you choose?" A death sentence no matter the answer.

Choose one? Dead.

Choose neither? Dead.

Choose both? Ha, look at how that went for Geralt.

Not everyone can pull a Li Xunhuan move and say "You came at the perfect moment" without being instantly dismembered.

This was a no-win question. The best strategy?

Don't answer it.

So Guinevere made a decision: he'd ignore the real question entirely and only address the surface.

Above all—fairness. Even the slightest favor to one side would cost him his life.

From the context, Ffwanxi was using his past promises to attack Artoria, and Artoria was trying to counter with the fact that he'd once told her those promises were just for show. In that equation, Artoria was on the defensive.

And given that, on paper, Guinevere was officially Artoria's companion, he needed to support her—at least a little—to avoid hurting her too deeply.

So: first, he had to deny the accusation that Artoria had been deceived.

But he couldn't be too blunt. He couldn't just say, "Yeah, I was totally lying to Ffwanxi."

Though she looked clumsy and ditzy, Ffwanxi was sensitive. If she learned she'd been tricked, she'd definitely be heartbroken—and Guinevere didn't want that.

So the best plan was to play the "we were on different sides" card:

He could explain that because of their opposing positions, he'd used a delaying tactic—first reassuring Artoria, while planning to be sincere to Ffwanxi after fighting alongside her and discovering her true nature.

And if Ffwanxi insisted, "So you were lying to me?"—then he'd just have to fall to his knees and beg forgiveness.

That was all he could think of in such a short time.

After all, he wasn't some seasoned Casanova. His romantic experience came entirely from anime mobile games—he hadn't even played many galgames. Asking him to find a perfect solution under these circumstances was just unfair.

And with no time to really think it through, this was the best half-baked plan he could come up with. He'd probably still get grilled to death afterward, but hey—better grilled than immediately executed.

But just as he was about to speak—

"Guinevere, why are you thinking so long?" Ffwanxi suddenly asked. "Is this question really that hard to answer?"

"Yeah," Artoria added. "Just tell the truth. What are you hesitating for?"

Then, after a quick glance between them—

"Are you stalling to make up a lie?"

Guinevere's knees buckled. He almost collapsed on the spot.

That's it. I'm done.

His face turned pale as death.

He hadn't predicted this: because he'd taken too long to analyze the question, the two had unexpectedly formed a temporary alliance—revoking the original test and presenting him with an entirely new one.

Now what?

Guinevere suddenly found himself wishing for Lancelot's gauntlet again. No, not just a duel—he'd rather be beaten to pulp by her for 300 rounds. Anything but this hellhole.

Just then, a voice came from behind him.

"Guinevere? Artoria? I finally found you... but why are you hanging out with that faerie knight Tristan?"

Guinevere instinctively turned.

Oberon was crawling through the window, looking completely baffled.

"You've all made up already? I was expecting a whole epic infiltration and rescue! What happened here?"

A savior!

Tears welled in Guinevere's eyes as he darted over:

"Brother—you came at the perfect moment—ah no, let me explain! I'll walk you through everything from start to finish!"

And so, with Oberon's dramatic and oh-so-timely arrival, Guinevere was finally able to steer the conversation away—by explaining all that had happened since they split up.

Just as he finished, wiping sweat from his forehead and thinking he'd narrowly escaped—

"So, now that you've finished telling Oberon everything... how about telling us your decision?"

The words came from behind.

Guinevere froze.

"Hey, talking with your back turned isn't polite," Oberon quipped, twisting the knife.

Guinevere's lips turned ghostly white.

He slowly turned around.

There they were: the two ticking time bombs, still very much alive and armed.

"So, Guinevere," Ffwanxi said, "what's your choice? Will you go off on some meaningless pilgrimage with this wild boar, or will you stay with me forever?"

"Who are you calling a wild boar—" Artoria immediately shot her a glare.

"Oh, sorry. Not wild boar—demonic boar," Ffwanxi giggled behind her hand. "Isn't that literally what your character profile says? I've never seen a girl with a tag like that."

After finishing the main storyline and becoming the Blood Queen alongside Guinevere, Ffwanxi had unlocked the character tag system—and naturally, she saw the "Demonic Boar Princess" tag attached to Artoria's profile.

"You—you—you—" Artoria's jaw clenched. She glanced at Ffwanxi's profile in return—and burst into laughter.

"Hah! Still better than your tag: 'Blockhead.'"

At this moment, Artoria could clearly see Ffwanxi's three starter tags:

Evil of This World (SR): The unlucky scapegoat everyone blames, no matter what. Everyone starts with low affinity toward you.

Faerie Princess (SR): Not the queen's real daughter, but the one she loves most. You start with high resources, high status, maybe even your own domain.

Blockhead (N): Not the sharpest knife in the drawer. You fail at simple tasks. But your cluelessness protects your mood—your Morale drops less.

"Being dumb isn't shameful?" Artoria scoffed.

"Why should it be?" Ffwanxi beamed. "Guinevere's smart. That's all that matters."

She put her hands on her hips:

"This is called wise foolishness, thank you. I can't manage things well, so I let Guinevere handle it all. He's great at it! That's better than pretending to be clever and dragging him down, right? Two runs to finish the main quest—better than your four!"

"You—you—you—" Artoria was speechless.

How could anyone be proud of being stupid?!

"Um... what are you two doing?" Oberon asked. "Why are you just mouthing words but not saying anything? Are you lip-reading now? Wow, so close already?"

"Who's close with her?!" they both snapped in perfect unison.

Oberon shrank back, shooting Guinevere a look—You're on your own, buddy.

Guinevere's face went a bit green.

"Enough! This bickering is pointless!" Artoria suddenly turned back to Guinevere.

"Say it—Guinevere, tell them you're going with me on the pilgrimage, like we agreed!"

"Say it!" Ffwanxi echoed. "Guinevere, say you'll stay with me and never leave again!"

—Here we go again.

Guinevere's face turned ashen.

He couldn't dodge it forever. Today, it seemed, would be the end.

The wind howls... the river runs cold... the warrior rides to his doom...

"I have a question!" Oberon suddenly raised a hand.

"Don't your demands... not conflict?" he asked. "Artoria wants Guinevere to go on the pilgrimage. Ffwanxi wants to stay by his side. Why not both?"

"Huh?" Ffwanxi blinked.

"Why not just go on the pilgrimage with them?" Oberon offered.

"What?" Ffwanxi's jaw dropped. Then she shook her head hard. "Are you serious?! I'm heir to the throne! You want me to side with a prophesied traitor? Betray my mother?!"

"But aren't you being hunted by faerie knight Lancelot right now?" Oberon shrugged.

"Even if Artoria's little gadgets are buying time, Lancelot will escape eventually. When she does, you'll be first on her kill list."

"So... you'd rather stay in New Darlington like a sitting duck?"

"Uh..."

Ffwanxi was at a loss.

She hadn't thought about that at all. And as much as she wanted to argue—this shiny, irritating Oberon guy kind of had a point.

She turned to Guinevere.

And Guinevere, having narrowly escaped death, hurried to follow up:

"Oberon makes sense. Ffwanxi, maybe consider joining the pilgrimage?"

"Well..." she nodded slowly. "If Guinevere says so, then I'll go."

"Hey—wait! I haven't agreed to this!" Artoria yelped. "If she joins, I'll be dead from stress within two days—"

Oberon dragged her aside and whispered,

"Now's not the time. If you refuse, Guinevere might feel you're being difficult—and that could push him toward Ffwanxi. You don't want that, right?"

Artoria bit her lip. After a war between heart and pride, she finally muttered,

"Fine... welcome aboard, Ffwanxi."

"Brother!"

Once Ffwanxi left to pack—and Artoria, to keep her from absconding with Guinevere—Guinevere ran up to Oberon, eyes shining.

"You're my blood brother now! You saved me! Big bro!"

"Hold it." Oberon gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"No need to thank me. I just guessed what your answer would be. I didn't want my foolish student to get hurt, so I reluctantly helped."

"But only this once."

He flicked dust off Guinevere's shoulder and added with quiet menace,

"I entrusted Artoria to you—not to watch you become some playboy."

Guinevere stiffened.

Though the threat was bizarre, it wasn't wrong. Still, he wanted to protest—but before he could speak, Oberon had already turned toward the girls.

"All right! Are your bags packed? Time to run!" he shouted. "If Lancelot shows up again, we're done! I doubt even she can stay lost forever! Let's move!"

Meanwhile, back in New Darlington's dungeon...

A certain young woman was still dashing around like a headless chicken.

"Strange..."

Melusina frowned at the dozens of cells before her—each carved with deep sword scars.

"I could've sworn this dungeon was a straight hallway... Why can't I find the exit anymore?"