The surprise sent a jolt through me instantly; I even jumped to my feet, touching the back of my neck as goosebumps spread across my skin. Before me stood a voluptuous woman with white hair streaked with black strands that fell seductively over a deep neckline.
Her skin looked almost translucent, barely covered by a black evening dress that blended into what appeared to be…
—Butterfly wings? —I whispered in disbelief.
The woman's eyes, cold as frozen mirrors, pierced through me with indifference. After a brief glance toward the group—who had clearly turned around to see the cause of my outburst—she merely let out a bored snort.
—Hmph… that little Gold-rank girl is quite bold. She won't be able to withstand my king's might.
At that moment, a second voice joined the conversation, deep and masculine, coming from the stands across from us:
—She's right. And yet, it's still impressive —he said with genuine admiration—. Young Rachel fights with a determination few knights have ever shown.
The speaker was a man of imposing presence, with a well-groomed black beard and mustache that covered at least half his face. He wore a white tunic and a dark cloak that barely concealed a body tempered by scorching deserts. His mere presence radiated authority, yet the ease in his tone carried a strange sense of familiarity.
—I am Saladin —he said, gesturing back toward the arena—. That young woman's eternal rival.
"You've got to be kidding me."
I couldn't help thinking as my mouth fell open. Saladin was, without a doubt, my favorite historical figure: a Kurd who, through effort and merit alone, became not only the first sultan of the Ayyubid dynasty, but also unified the Muslim world, stood against the Hashshashin, and—what earned him a place in history and in my heart—reclaimed Jerusalem from the Christians, emerging victorious from the last crusade truly worth telling.
—Even if the girl is Gold rank, I know she's at the level of a Platinum.
Wait… Rachel… Crusade… Third—
"Is Rachel Lionheart actually…? Richard the Lionheart?!"
The realization, though unspoken, made me cover my mouth, making sure that deduction didn't slip out by accident.
The white-haired woman smiled maliciously toward the man in the stands.
—I am Morgana le Fay, Queen of Avalon —her eyes returned to the arena, where Arthur and Rachel continued their deadly dance—. My king will not lose. Not to that child.
—Unfortunately… —Saladin replied in a somber tone— she will, however, leave this stage to a thunderous ovation.
"So you've already lost faith in her?"
I couldn't judge him. The tides had shifted while we were distracted.
Rachel had managed to drive Arthur back against one of the pillars surrounding the arena. The king barely regained distance, panting, sweat sliding down his brow. A knowing smile formed between them.
—Rachel, I will not forget your name. You are a worthy knight. But I must bring this battle to an end.
—Will you use Excalibur seriously? —Rachel asked, thrilled.
—No… I will use something new. Something worthy of a knight like you.
Arthur raised his hand toward the sky. Excalibur was swallowed by a golden vortex, vanishing from his grasp. With the voice of a true king, he shouted:
—Third Star: Rhongomyniad!
The gathered energy erupted, taking the form of a radiant spear bathed in pure gold. It was the perfect cavalry weapon, a beacon of light that illuminated the entire arena. The power emanating from it was so overwhelming that even the firmament itself seemed to bow toward Arthur. Even so, the girl smiled in fascination.
"Dear God… at this point it looks like she's enjoying it more than she fears it."
Rachel did not retreat. With a defiant grin, she extended her left palm, from which a light of her own bloomed. A small star ignited, struggling to rival the sun blazing before her.
—Second Star: Memories of an Old Friend!
A luminous cross appeared around her, shattering into sparks that took the shape of a magnificent white steed. Rachel vaulted onto the horse in a single motion, and in that instant, the replica of Excalibur burned with a brilliance that challenged the night sky itself.
The horse neighed, and Rachel charged at the king with unrestrained passion. Her assaults were faster, fiercer; each clash against Rhongomyniad made the diamond pillars tremble.
"This is like watching a small comet crashing into a star."
Arthur received her calmly, deflecting each strike with precise, effortless movements. And amid the clash, he offered Rachel a solemn smile.
—Your skill will be remembered, Rachel Lionheart… May the world not forget your performance today.
With a decisive motion, he drove the tip of Rhongomyniad into the ground. A wave of energy burst forth from the lance, expanding like thunder. A sonic explosion blinded and deafened everyone present.
When the light faded…
Rachel was on her knees, exhausted, yet her eyes still burned with pride and passion. Wearing a broad smile, she declared:
—I surrender.
The system's voice echoed throughout the coliseum:
[MAJOR VICTORY: Arthur Pendragon. Reward: 240k CN]
The crowd erupted into deafening applause. Arthur, without any sign of triumph, raised the lance, which dissolved into particles of light.
With solemn grace, he saluted his defeated opponent before turning his back.
Deep inside, I felt it: this was no longer about power. This fight—one that should have made me step back, that should have taught me my place in this game—had instead ignited my will to keep going even more.
Rachel is the protagonist of her story; she faced adversity, an enemy she knew would defeat her, with a brilliant smile.
I… no longer want to be a nobody. I want to be the protagonist of my own story.
—I will be the protagonist… and I will return to my world.