Her delicate face, clad in a blue-and-white dress that reached only her thighs, with her slender legs wrapped in white stockings she looked like a noble girl off on a picnic.

Petite. Adorable.

But

This sword was no illusion.

Lancelot could sense the power contained within.

The small girl stared at Lancelot and silently raised the sword in her hand.

Wait… what's with that sword?!

Lancelot watched closely.

The girl's sword wasn't gripped in her hand it was as if it were embedded into the back of it.

An extremely bizarre sight.

"My name is Melusine."

The fairy girl spoke her name plainly.

Then

She tilted her head slightly, observing Lancelot.

"Melusine? You're that fairy?!"

Lancelot pondered for a moment before recalling her origins.

If she were a fairy from Britain say, one like Baobhan Sith, hailing from Scotland then Lancelot's chances of having heard of her would've been slim.

But this Melusine was a fairy from France.

Lancelot knew her well.

Melusine a half-human, half-fairy beauty with the lower body of a serpent and the wings of a dragon.

Born as the radiant fairy daughter of a human father and a fairy mother,

Yet she committed the sin of imprisoning her father in a cavern,

And was thus cursed [Every Saturday, her lower body would turn into that of a snake.]

Legend said that if her lover ever saw her serpentine form, the curse would intensify, transforming Melusine forever into a terrifying snake.

But as Lancelot looked at the Melusine before him, he sensed she was far from simple.

She couldn't just be that fairy from the tales.

Something deeper must have been hidden behind her.

"Yes, that's me."

Melusine gave a slight nod.

Then, gazing at Lancelot, she asked in a probing tone:

"For some reason… I feel a connection between us. Could you tell me what it is?"

"A connection… between you and me?"

Hearing this, Lancelot was momentarily stunned.

What relation could he possibly have with Melusine?

Both being from France? That hardly counted. On the British Isles, people from France weren't exactly rare. And as for the human father in Melusine's legend he had absolutely no ties to Lancelot.

So… there couldn't be any connection, right?

Unconsciously, Lancelot recalled Galahad.

That child who claimed to be his descendant yet refused to acknowledge him.

"Could my relation to Melusine be the same as with him…?"

No.

That was impossible.

Galahad had appeared out of nowhere.

Lancelot couldn't trace his origins it was as if he had truly traveled from decades into the future.

Him being Lancelot's descendant was at least plausible.

But Melusine's father was a figure with a confirmed background.

So then… what was this connection?

"You tell me what relation do we share?"

In the end, Lancelot threw the question back at Melusine.

"I don't know either."

Melusine shook her head.

"Are you joking with me?"

"No, not at all. That's why… I want you to accompany me for a while, so we can find the answer together."

Melusine responded firmly.

"And if I don't have the time?"

Lancelot countered.

Hearing this, Melusine frowned slightly, as if struggling to decide.

Then she pointed her sword at Lancelot.

"I believe uncovering this matter is of great importance. So… I challenge you to a duel. If I win, I ask that you accompany me to seek the answer when you're free."

At her words, Lancelot's expression softened somewhat.

"Though you are a fairy… I can see you're nothing like the others. Very well I accept your proposal."

Lancelot gripped his greatsword, settling into an offensive stance.

Ready to intercept Melusine's attack at any moment.

Seeing this, Melusine flashed a brilliant smile.

Then

Her feet slammed against the ground, a blue light erupting beneath her as she charged toward Lancelot.

Closing the distance in an instant,

She crossed her twin blades, slashing in an 'X' formation.

Lancelot reacted swiftly, bracing his greatsword horizontally across his chest.

Blocking Melusine's scissoring strike.

The twin blades failed to cut through. Melusine retreated immediately, shifting to her next assault.

Standing at less than 150 cm, she was dwarfed by Lancelot, who towered over 190 cm. Yet in combat, she used her small stature to her advantage darting in close, striking relentlessly at his waist and abdomen.

Pressing in tight, she denied Lancelot the space to wield his longer weapon effectively.

Lancelot could only sigh at her almost shameless fighting style.

He retreated, creating room to maneuver.

Melusine pursued.

Lancelot stepped back again.

Now, the two found themselves at a strange equilibrium.

Neither at the ideal range for their weapon and height advantages yet not so close as to be completely restricted.

This was no longer a battle of natural superiority.

Now, it was purely a contest of skill and strength.

Their blades clashed in rapid succession.

And as they exchanged blows, both Lancelot and Melusine realized something.

Their techniques the essence of their movements, the flow of their strikes were identical.

This went beyond simply being taught by the same master. Even among disciples of the same style, the core of their techniques would differ slightly.

But between Lancelot and Melusine there was no such variation.

Lancelot felt as though he were fighting a copy of himself.

Even their strength was perfectly matched.

Melusine felt the same.

Though she still held her trump cards… who was to say he didn't as well?

Besides this wasn't a fight to the death.

They were only trying to uncover the bond between them.

After a while, the two simultaneously disengaged.

"Where did you learn your swordsmanship?"

Lancelot asked.

"What if I told you… I mastered it all in a single night? Would you believe me?"

Melusine met his gaze and answered plainly.