Chapter 316: The Married Woman, Sita
The soldiers, clad in uniform armor, were split into several squads, methodically patrolling the perimeter of the castle. However, every guard rotation left a gap of several minutes. Taking advantage of this opening, Shirou and Sita crawled through a hidden tunnel they had dug beneath the thick brush to reach the outside.
Between climbing through ceilings and crawling through tunnels, the pair had exhausted themselves, but they finally escaped Charlemagne's castle. After running several hundred meters across the green meadows and into a dense forest, they finally stopped to catch their breath.
"Whew, we finally made it out." Shirou leaned against a large tree, letting out a long sigh. He looked at the red-haired girl with gratitude, nodded, and spoke: "So, can you tell me now why you came to rescue me? I might have companions who came to this world as well; I need to find them."
"I haven't heard anything about your companions. I only know that the Prince of the Eastern Nation, who possesses a charm rare in this world, came here to hold a martial arts tournament for his hand in marriage, swearing to marry the strongest warrior. The Paladin Roland even came to blows with many people over this, but the Prince managed to escape." Sita, the girl with long red twin-tails and a precious bow in her hand, shook her head.
"Ah... so that's how it is. I thought this situation felt a bit familiar." Shirou covered his face. He finally realized what was happening; this world was likely a mishmash of various Charlemagne legends.
His current predicament seemed to be taken from the classic plot of Orlando Furioso, written by the 16th-century Italian poet Ludovico Ariosto. Due to the limitations of his era, the poet didn't have a grounded view of the world, but his romantic nature led him to abandon historical accuracy entirely. He depicted Charlemagne as a sort of "Emperor of the Universe," making it seem as if the entire Earth revolved around him.
As the spokesperson for Christianity, Charlemagne led one-third of the world's forces in a religious struggle—more important than life itself—against another third: the Arab Empire.
The final faction, a great Eastern power, sent a princess of supreme beauty to this land. She enchanted the warriors of both sides. To fight for her, these heroes turned Europe, Asia, and Africa upside down, while she simply rode off on her horse. The princess caused trouble as she fled, was rescued by one hero after another, and then fled again.
Roland, in particular, suffered through countless hardships searching for and trying to save this princess, traveling across all of Europe and leaving legends in every land. Eventually, that princess threw herself into the arms of an Islamic soldier. Roland was so enraged he coughed up blood, drew his sword in a mad frenzy to destroy everything in sight, and ran back to
Europe stark naked and insane, causing havoc wherever he went. This led to the story of Astolfo riding the Hippogriff to the moon—where lost things go—to retrieve Roland's sanity.
In this gender-flipped world where social roles were reversed, it seemed he was that Eastern Princess. And that princess, according to some versions, ended up meeting a tragic end with her lover.
Shirou's expression shifted rapidly. Even though he knew he had the "Female Calamity" constitution, this was taking it too far.
"Let's drop that topic for now. Let's talk about your motive," Shirou said, looking at Sita. After all, she wouldn't have saved him for no reason.
"Right, let's keep it brief. Charlemagne could send cavalry after us at any moment. His Paladins are very troublesome—one has eyes that can see for thousands of miles, and another has a Phantasmal Hippogriff that can fly hundreds of kilometers in an instant. We must leave quickly," Sita said, looking directly at Shirou.
.
.
.
At that very moment, in Charlemagne's palace, the beautiful pink-haired knight Astolfo was emerging from the kitchen carrying a tray piled high with snacks. She spun on her tiptoes in the hallway like a ballerina, humming a cheerful tune as she headed toward the guest wing. She was wondering how to fish for information on what kind of women Shirou liked. If he liked the "cute type," she felt she had a good chance.
-
-
-
Back in the woods:
Sita spoke: "Shirou! I was commissioned by a compatriot of your country to come here and save you. I'm taking you to see her now."
"A compatriot? By the way, which country am I even from in this world? A representative 'Eastern Nation'? It can't be Japan," Shirou said, perplexed.
"...Have you lost your memory? I heard your escape was quite pathetic, and you even fell into the water before being brought to the palace. You poor child. Just come with me. Once you see that Master, I'm sure you'll remember something." Sita looked at Shirou pityingly, took his hand, and comforted him.
"Wait, who is this 'Master'?" Shirou asked.
"Please trust me! Come with me. I am a sister from an allied nation; I won't hurt you," Sita said sincerely. She knew that when a boy was away from home and a female stranger suddenly told him to follow her, he would be hesitant.
"No, I trust you," Shirou replied with a light smile. Sita had indeed helped him and didn't seem like a bad person. Although he had trusted Astolfo, she had left him alone in the palace and nearly dragged him into a blind-date hell. But he couldn't use that as a reason to doubt someone helping him. Besides, she was a woman; Kiritsugu had taught him to always be a gentleman.
"Shirou..." Seeing the boy's friendly, "boy-next-door" smile and the total lack of suspicion in his eyes, Sita felt a surge of warmth. She was deeply moved to be trusted so implicitly.
'As expected, Shirou really does possess a mysterious charm, just like the rumors say.'
It was like the difference between looking for a girlfriend and looking for a wife. For fun, people liked someone pretty and outgoing. But for a life partner, most people hoped for a "good wife and wise mother." Shirou, whose "housewife power" and "motherly power" were maxed out, was an impeccable candidate in this world.
Sita's face flushed as her imagination started to wander.
Then, remembering the one waiting for her at home, she shook her head vigorously: No! No! I am already a married woman! I absolutely cannot be unfaithful. But... to tempt a married woman like this, Shirou is truly a sinful person...
Of course, Shirou wasn't doing it on purpose. Through their conversation, she realized he was a genuinely good person—a friend truly worth having.
"Don't worry! Thank you for your trust, Shirou! Even if I have to risk my life, I will help you!" Sita vowed. "Regardless, since you are the Prince of our ally, that Eastern Nation, then we are like brothers. I, Sita, will definitely protect you!"
"You two up ahead, halt! Who are you!"
Shirou looked up to see a four-person squad on warhorses. They were four women dressed as Arabs, clad in armor and carrying standard-issue military sabers.
Sita stood in front of Shirou and shouted, "Sisters, we mean no ill. We are just passing through; please let us go."
"Hahaha! The warrior Sita from Taxila on the Indian continent, the red-haired twin-tail! I've heard the rumors. As sisters who share the faith of Allah, we don't want to hurt you if you leave now—but leave the Prince of the Eastern Nation behind!"
Ancient India was often divided into five regions, experiencing cycles of invasion, unification, and split. Before British rule, it was never truly one country but many small nations. Later, when the British returned the land, the "Jewel in the Crown" was split into India (mostly Hindu) and Pakistan (mostly Muslim), and later Bangladesh and Sri Lanka.
These nations are interconnected, with citizens often having relatives across borders, yet they remain hostile and prone to friction.
Sita was from Taxila, a city in modern-day Pakistan. The Tang monk Xuanzang stayed there, recording it as a "City of Stone Carvings" with many temples and flourishing agriculture. Because previous rulers like those of the Kushan and Maurya Empires believed in Buddhism, it was a center for monks for a long time. Legend also says Taxila was founded by Rama's brother, Bharata. It was conquered by Alexander the Great, then ruled by the Kushans. The ruins show a blend of Indian, Greek, and Eastern Han artistic styles. However, by the 8th century, with the rise of the Arab Empire, it was occupied by Islam, and Buddhism gradually faded.
Facing the Arab squad, Sita drew her bow and moved in front of Shirou, shifting her waist-knife to a position where she could draw it easily.
From their aura, it was clear these weren't ordinary soldiers; each had the capability of a low-tier Servant. The leader, based on her attire, was likely an officer with the strength of a mid-tier Servant.
"It seems we can't talk this out. Move! Sita is the warrior who rescued the Prince from Charlemagne. Subdue her and tie her up! Careful not to hurt the Prince," the lead warrior ordered.
"Yes!" her subordinates answered in unison.
The four rode forward, dismounted, and drew their blades to surround Sita and Shirou. When the leader drew her scimitar with its curious patterned steel, Shirou's eyes lit up. He immediately recognized it as a genuine Damascus blade—the forging method for which would eventually be lost to history—and a high-quality one at that.
This was a precious weapon, much like the Moshuo (lance) used only by high-ranking generals in the Tang army. A Moshuo took three years to make and had a success rate of only 40%. Military families took great pride in them. Damascus steel was light and flexible, while the Moshuo was powerful due to its length. Both required a lifetime of practice to master.
"Sita, can you distract three of them?" Shirou whispered behind the girl.
Sita caught on and nodded. She rushed forward, shouting, "Leave it to me! Shirou, stay behind me!"
"Hehe, even a famous warrior can't fight four of us at once," the leader laughed.
"You won't know until you try." Sita pulled her bow and fired three arrows in a single breath. Her archery was superb; the arrows flew like the wind, their white fletching forming straight white lines. The three soldiers' expressions changed; they didn't dare block with their swords and were forced to roll away to dodge.
"Fine archery! Truly lives up to the name! But how many more can you fire?" the leader praised calmly from the back. She acknowledged Sita's strength, but everything was within her calculation. She understood the rules of the battlefield better than anyone here.
"Hmph, bring it on!" Sita nocked another arrow, facing the enemies.
The leader joined the fray, forming a simple but effective battle formation with her three subordinates, pressing forward in unison. Sita didn't dare release her nocked arrow easily; the moment her hands were "empty," the others would cut her down.
However, the four had to focus entirely on Sita's threatening arrow. None of them imagined that the "shota" Shirou, a seemingly frail boy, would possess any combat ability.
While the soldiers were focused on Sita, Shirou suddenly dashed forward. He twisted a female warrior's arm, snatched her blade, kneed her in the back of the leg to buckle her stance, and swept her to the ground with a kick.
Using all his strength, Shirou charged at the leader.
"This is as far as you go!" the boy shouted.
In the next instant, the Damascus blade in Shirou's hand was pressed against the leader's throat. Just one more centimeter and the sharp edge would easily slice her neck.
The leader was stunned for a moment before realizing she had lost.
"It seems the match is decided," Sita said to the remaining two soldiers.
Under the leader's guidance, the three laid down their weapons, tossing their precious blades to the ground and raising their hands in surrender.
Read ahead (60 chapters) by supporting me on buymeacoffee com/varietl or ko-fi edwriting