[You have triggered a special extermination quest: Exterminate Nightmare Incarnation II - Carmilla, Daughter of the Queen of Despair]
[Within the dreamlike London that has become a temporary sacrificial ground, you've encountered the yet-untransformed nightmare version of Bavanzi. As a heroic spirit with an identity already established, once her transformation completes, she will immediately become a mature Nightmare Incarnation.]
[Please defeat her before she fully transforms into a complete Nightmare Incarnation.]
[Quest Rewards: One random stat increases by one level, Hunter Rune: Echo of Blood]
.......................
"Bavanzi..."
Reading over the system's description, then glancing at the specter slowly drifting across the lake toward them, Guinevere's expression grew complicated.
"What's with that face?"
Mordred shot him a look, frowning.
"I got the feeling earlier that you recognized her… Don't tell me you've got history with her? Like, romantic?"
"Well... if you put it that way... I suppose you could say that."
Guinevere sighed, nodding.
"Wait—seriously?!"
Mordred's grip on her sword tightened slightly, red lightning crackling along the blade as her mana flared violently.
At that moment, Bavanzi raised a delicate hand, summoning a wave of blood that surged toward Mordred, only to be instantly evaporated by her counter-swing.
Without missing a beat, Mordred slipped into a combat stance, glancing sidelong at Guinevere.
"Whatever history you two have, she doesn't look like she recognizes you now. Just so we're clear—since you're asking me to take her down, don't blame me if I hit her a little too hard. A monster like this won't snap out of it unless you knock the sense into them."
"Huh?" Guinevere blinked. "I thought you'd be more the 'try-to-purify-with-love' type."
"Are you kidding me?" Mordred snorted. "Do I look like that kind of sap to you?"
"But that's what you said when we fought Nightmare Jack."
"That was different."
As Bavanzi tapped her finger, blood waves surged across the lake. Mordred casually cleaved them apart, grumbling:
"Jack was a child. Look at this one, summoning a damn tidal wave of blood—no way she's still innocent. If it weren't for you, I'd have diced her already."
"...In a way, though, she kind of is your sister," Guinevere added after a moment's thought. "She's also Morgan's daughter."
"What? Are you serious?"
Mordred faltered, her sword swing slowing just long enough for a blood wave to nearly drag her into the lake.
She barely dodged it, only for a blood-red arrow to shoot straight from the wave—aimed at her face.
The arrow had used the blood wave as cover, making it impossible to detect. With her mind still distracted, Mordred was left wide open.
"Sh—!"
In that split second of realization—when she could already see herself taking an arrow to the skull—Guinevere dashed forward from behind.
He struck out with a fire-infused punch, his palm erupting in flames that boosted his speed. The strike smashed through the blood wave, scattering it in a fiery explosion.
"What, were you just about to scream 'Guinevere, save me!'?"
He grinned at her.
"Tch."
Mordred shot him a glare, annoyed, and quickly changed the subject.
"I've got a lot of siblings, sure… but I don't remember my dear mother mentioning a redhead sister living here."
"That's… complicated. Long story short—she's the daughter of a different world's Morgan."
Guinevere's face didn't suggest he was joking, and Mordred hesitated.
"So, what now? Try to pull a Jack-style redemption arc again? You gonna hug her into submission?"
"Who said anything about redemption? That alone won't cut it—I tried already."
With that, Guinevere unsheathed his sword and held it before him with both hands.
"We'll beat some sense into her first. I'll figure out how to console her afterward."
"Why are you suddenly so pumped? Just a while ago, weren't you running from werewolves?"
"I'm not strong. You are."
He gave the Philosopher's Stone in his pocket a reassuring pat and tucked it back in.
He'd been feeling down… but remembering the trump cards he held gave him confidence again.
Kindness alone wasn't enough—but kindness with power, that was different.
Since the spirit summoned by the Philosopher's Stone used him as a medium, who better to summon than himself?
He had his hand full of aces. There was no need to panic.
He was confident he could save Bavanzi.
Of course, a trump card only worked when kept hidden until the right moment.
Right now, he had no intention of playing it.
"So, once again, I'm counting on you, Mordred."
Guinevere turned to her with a smile.
"I know you won't let me down."
"Hmph. Obviously,"
Mordred stepped in front, raising her sword high.
"I'm the child of King Arthur. I don't let anyone down."
"Great. Now let's talk strategy since we can't go into the water…"
Before he could finish, Guinevere watched her vanish in a crackle of red lightning, dashing straight toward Bavanzi.
"Holy crap. She's running on water? Seriously?!"
Guinevere stood dumbfounded on the shore.
If Mordred could charge across the lake like that, what was he supposed to do? Swim? That would get him slaughtered by all the supernatural floaters out there.
After some thought, he gave up on chasing her and instead raised his left arm, firing a few shots from the mounted machine gun for support.
Then he tried applying the Hunter Rune: Powder Keg to the gun. The results were immediate—each shot burst into flame, and the bullets hit with several times the force.
Yet when he watched the bullets approach Bavanzi, each was intercepted midair by shields formed from rising blood, acting like an automatic defense.
Ironically, the fire from the muzzle seemed to do more to startle her.
"—Fire? Fire... eeeek—don't come near me! Don't burn me—!"
As if triggered by painful memories, Bavanzi suddenly shrieked, shielding her face and backing away in terror.
At that moment, red lightning flashed across the lake.
Mordred suddenly stopped midair, kicked off the water's surface, blasting away a wide section of it with raw mana, and then flipped her blade to slap Bavanzi with the flat.
But as her strike neared, a crimson barrier sprang up to block her again, rising like an automatic reflex.
"Tch, I knew it. Shouldn't've held back."
Mordred clicked her tongue and slashed again—this time with full force, channeling intense mana through her blade.
But with her second slash came a more violent blood surge from the lake, smashing into her and flinging her back across the surface like a skipping stone until she crashed into the shore.
There, lying breathless, she turned to see Guinevere still fiddling with his gun.
"...What the hell are you doing?"
"Supporting you?"
Guinevere blinked.
"Supporting?! Get in there with me!"
"But I'll sink!" He pointed at the water. "I can swim, sure, but you guys are fighting on water like gods. If I swim over, I'll just be a floating target!"
"Wait—you're not controlling the mana around your feet to walk on water?"
"That's not even remotely possible!" Guinevere snapped. "I've dabbled in alchemy and potion-making, but I'm not a magician!"
"That's not magic—it's just basic mana release. Honestly, using runes to boost your limbs is even harder in some ways."
"Well, what I'm using isn't mana release at all," Guinevere sighed. "It's a Hunter Rune—meant to boost weapons. I just figured out how to apply it to myself."
But he paused.
"Wait. You're saying walking on water is just another form of mana release?"
Thinking back… his improvised use of the Powder Keg rune on himself had worked surprisingly well. Could his innate talent really be that insane?
He recalled a long-neglected passive:
[Heaven-Cursed Genius (SR): You were born a prodigy feared by the heavens. Your intelligence spans all fields, and you achieve mastery with ease. But your brilliance draws divine envy—you are fated to die young.]
[-1 Endurance. You learn all skills faster. Attributes grow more quickly. You're more likely to notice clues and solve unsolvable problems.]
He used to think it was just a garbage trait that nerfed his durability.
But clearly, it wasn't.
He'd entered the Fate Sim manually. Some talents carried over—like this one. And it seemed his Rune: Powder Keg worked even outside the dream world.
So in short, yes.
He'd just learned water-walking... instantly.
"Oh, shut up already, genius."
Mordred bonked him on the head and muttered, "Still, you staying back does make some sense… If every Nightmare Incarnation has a unique power, better we don't both get caught in it at once. You be my backup."
"Got it. I'm counting on you."
Taking a deep breath, Guinevere nodded.
Once more, red lightning burst forth—Mordred charged Bavanzi, cutting down blood waves as she approached.
But as her sword descended again, that same shield of blood rose.
"Ha! Is that all you've got?! Don't think the same trick's gonna stop me twice!"
But then—something glinted in her peripheral vision.
At Bavanzi's chest, nestled in the tattered white dress between her collarbones, pulsed a crimson, cratered orb—radiating dangerous mana.
Mordred remembered—Hoenheim had something similar just before he self-destructed.
Was she charging a super move?
Then the blood around her darkened—tinged with foul purple-black hues, becoming sludge-like. Its nature changed completely, and it began draining Mordred's mana—her red lightning dimmed.
"What—?"
Her power drained at an alarming rate. She tried to force through it, but the more she pushed, the faster her mana vanished.
Then… her lifeforce began to drain.
Blood beaded from her pores as her skin turned red. The blood arced toward Bavanzi.
"WHAT—?!"
Then she heard a cry:
"Stop… I don't want this… I don't want to absorb life again…"
Bavanzi clutched her head, crying. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Then—BOOM!
A massive blood pillar erupted, blasting Mordred away like a cannonball.
Guinevere caught her midair, anchoring her from slamming into the rocks. The two tumbled back, slamming into a tree that cracked and fell.
"Damn… You need to lose some weight... that nearly killed me..."
"Armor. Obviously." Mordred groaned.
"This is insane. That damn blood barrier is like a leech—it drains mana, and if that runs out, it goes for your life. How the hell are we supposed to beat that?"
"You want to retreat? It's not too late."
"Bullshit."
Mordred looked at him—then at the still-weeping Bavanzi on the lake.
"You say that, but you're not planning to leave either."
"…Yeah."
She was whispering:
"Please don't hurt me. I was just following orders… I didn't want to absorb life... They made me..."
Every word stabbed Guinevere through the heart.
Last time, he hesitated. This time, he would not let the nightmare continue.
"I'll end this. I'll end her nightmare."
He reached into his coat and gripped the Philosopher's Stone.
A Holy Sword user could do this—even alone.
Then he looked at Mordred:
"You're out of mana. You don't have to keep fighting."
"Hell no!"
She kicked him, making him stumble.
"You think I'm walking away now?! She's my sister, isn't she?"
And I'm not leaving you either.
She didn't say that last part.
Instead, she extended her hand.
"Let's form a contract."
"Huh?"
"What do you mean 'huh'?" She smacked him. "My mana's gone. We need a contract—Master and Servant. You supply the mana. Got it?"
"Well, yeah… You sure?"
"Why not? We're partners now, and we'll still be partners after. What difference does it make?"
"...Fair."
Guinevere scratched his head and smiled sheepishly.
"Don't tell me you don't know how to form one?" she asked.
"I do." Thanks to sharing blood with his alternate self, he knew.
"Then let's begin."
He bit his finger and raised his hand.
"I declare!"
"Your body shall be under my command. My fate shall be entrusted to your sword."
"If you heed the call of the Holy Grail, and this will and reason align, then I hereby swear!"
"I am the one who strives for good for all eternity. I am the one who commits evil for all eternity. You, who bear the three words of power that protect the seven heavens—O guardian of the balance of suppression!"
"Your fate is mine to bear!"
As his chant reached its peak, Mordred extended her hand as well.
"In the name of Mordred, child of King Arthur."
"I entrust you with my sword, my honor, and my life. I may be but a third-rate knight… but even so—will you form a contract with me?"
She was serious—trembling, even. Her eyes were wide, hopeful, yet fearful of rejection.
"...Yeah."
Guinevere nodded solemnly, interlocking fingers with hers.
"I will."
A brilliant red glow burst outward, washing the area in light and blowing back the surrounding mist. Guinevere could feel it—a thread now bound the two of them.
"Let's get to work."
He glanced at the fresh Command Seals on the back of his hand.
"That blood shield—I've got an idea to break it. But I need to get close."
"OK!"
Mordred faced Bavanzi, then raised her fist to Guinevere.
"This time, you attack. I'll cover. Deal?"
Guinevere stared at her fist for a moment, then raised his own to meet it.
"Then let's go."