Arthur slowly rotated Ea, bringing the cylinders to a halt until the blade of Rupture gleamed in silence. Then, he dismissed it into a golden portal behind him, leaving only the emptiness and his presence before Mordred.
"Because I have a proposal," he answered seriously, without the slightest trace of sarcasm.
Mordred narrowed her eyes, even as her body continued to crumble into particles. "A proposal…? What kind of game are you playing now?"
Arthur folded his arms.
"I know your wish. I know what you came to claim from this Grail… but I also know you've already given up on it. So, I want to offer you another way—something greater. A way to surpass your father."
Mordred's eyes widened. "Surpass… King Arthur?"
Arthur nodded slightly. "I know how crushing defeat can feel inside. But I also know how to rebuild strength from it. And I believe I can help you achieve a wish even truer than sitting on Britain's throne."
She frowned, trying to mask her curiosity. "A wish…? What are you talking about…?"
Arthur tilted his head, smiling faintly as he looked down at her.
"The wish to be accepted. The wish to hear, from Artoria herself, that she is proud of you."
The words struck Mordred like a well-aimed arrow. For a moment, her eyes trembled, and then, to his surprise, she laughed. A hoarse laugh, heavy with exhaustion.
"Hah… that's the first time anyone's ever read me like that. You… really do see right through me, don't you?"
Arthur didn't answer immediately. Mordred sighed, lifting her gaze to the starry sky opening above the crater as her body faded into fragments of light.
"Do you really think you can keep such a promise?" she murmured.
"Without a shadow of doubt," Arthur replied firmly, without hesitation.
A faint smile tugged at the lips of the rebellious knight. "Heh… in that case, I accept."
She turned her tired eyes back to Arthur. "But what about my Master's wish? Are you simply ignoring what he wants from the Holy Grail?"
Arthur shook his head.
"There's no need to use the Grail for that. I can break that curse on my own."
His tone lowered, solemn, almost like a vow.
"In return, so that we may establish a proper contract, Sisigou must yield his rights as Master in this war. Only then can I guide you to the end."
Mordred broke into a wide, savage grin, even as half her body had already dissolved into glittering particles.
"Hah… you really are a strange bastard. But I want to see how far this goes."
Arthur crossed his arms again, his gaze stern yet respectful.
"Then it's an agreement."
"Now… it all depends on him, doesn't it?" she muttered, turning her face toward Sisigou.
The necromancer, his eyes still wide from what he had just witnessed, swallowed hard. His palm, where the Command Seals once burned, still ached faintly.
"You want me to… hand over my rights as Master… to you?"
Arthur met his gaze head-on, without arrogance, only with a serenity that made his words resonate like law.
"Yes. And that is the fair price. I do not ask out of ambition, but because I know only then can I lead Mordred to something greater than the Holy Grail itself."
Sisigou clenched his teeth. His whole life had been one gamble after another. He had known this war would not be simple, but he had never imagined standing before a man who wielded such overwhelming power.
Before he could reply, light footsteps approached from behind. Jeanne drew near, her white banner resting on her shoulder, her expression serious, though not hostile.
"Gil…" she said. Her tone was firm, but her eyes carried a glimmer of concern. "Do you understand what you're asking? Sisigou is the Master who entrusted his life to Mordred. Asking him to relinquish that right is no small thing."
Arthur turned to her without breaking his gaze.
"I know, Jeanne. But I also know Mordred has already abandoned the Grail. What I offer her isn't just a chance at victory, but the chance to achieve what she truly desires. And as for Sisigou…"
He paused, then stepped forward.
"He loses nothing by yielding this right. On the contrary, he gains the assurance that his Servant will not fall into the same cycle of hatred and rejection that consumed her until now. Their bond will not be erased—only transformed."
Jeanne narrowed her eyes, studying every word. She knew well the eyes of a liar, but saw no trace of falsehood here.
Sisigou took a deep breath, the cigarette trembling between his fingers before he brought it to his lips.
"Heh… you speak as if you already know how the story ends, don't you?" he muttered, exhaling smoke into the air.
Arthur allowed himself the faintest smile, the first sign of lightness since the battle's end.
"No. But I know how to guide someone there. That's my role."
Mordred laughed, coughing spiritual blood that scattered into particles. "Hah… Master, I never thought I'd say this, but… I think I want to bet on this damned king."
Sisigou looked at her. The girl he had summoned—the rebel, the unbearable child of King Arthur—was there, nearly gone… yet smiling like a child glimpsing hope for the first time.
He sighed deeply, letting the smoke escape one last time.
"…Fine. I accept. You'll have my rights as Master. But if you ever break that promise to her… not even the Grail will save you from me."
Arthur inclined his head in respect.
"Then it's a pact."
Jeanne, watching silently, drew in a breath.
"If you truly intend to follow this path, then I hope you honor every word. Because, in a way… now you carry not only Mordred, but also the weight of those who believe in her."
Arthur met her eyes and smiled serenely.
"You should know, Jeanne… keeping promises has always been what separates kings from tyrants."
The smoke from Sisigou's cigarette dissipated into the heavy air. He extended his hand, his eyes locked on Arthur as if trying to pierce through his very soul.
Arthur raised his own, and for an instant, the space between them seemed to vibrate. Red lines began to fade from Sisigou's skin, drawn away as if by an invisible brush. At the same time, crimson symbols burned into Arthur's arm, glowing intensely until they fixed themselves as new Command Seals.
Jeanne pressed the banner to her chest, her eyes sharp. She could feel the weight of that contract—it wasn't merely a transfer of power, but a pact made in full consciousness, a vow rooted not only in magic, but in will.
Arthur lowered his arm and turned to Mordred. The rebellious daughter of Artoria breathed weakly, her body almost entirely dissolved into golden dust. Yet her eyes remained fixed on him, as though she wished to see how far this promise would go.
Arthur approached her, kneeling at her side.
"So, Mordred… do you accept this contract? Will you walk with me, even if your path is no longer the Holy Grail?"
Mordred laughed, even while coughing, spewing spiritual sparks.
"You're still asking? Hah… you really are different from my father… No speeches. Just do it before I vanish."
Arthur smiled softly, raising his hand and placing it against her chest. A golden current of energy surged from the touch, flowing through Mordred like a warm wave. The dissolution halted. The particles dissolving from her body condensed once more, reshaping her spiritual form. Color returned to her skin, her armor gleamed alive again.
Mordred's eyes widened in shock. She looked at her hands, then at her body. The pain had vanished, replaced by vibrant, stable energy.
"I… I'm not fading anymore…"
Arthur withdrew his hand and rose calmly.
"Exactly. Because now, Mordred, you're no longer at the edge of the end. You've been reborn under a new contract."
She stared at him, speechless, before a rough laugh burst from her lips.
"Hah! Hahahaha! This is ridiculous… and yet, wonderful. So… you really brought me back, didn't you?"
Arthur folded his arms, watching her with a firm, unassuming gaze.
"I promised. You said you wanted acceptance. Very well… as long as we fight together, I will be the one to ensure you find it. I will lead you to the moment when you finally hear from Artoria what you've always longed for."
Mordred averted her eyes briefly, gazing at the starry sky. Her smile now was less fierce, almost wistful.
"…Do you truly have the nerve to promise something like that?"
Arthur's reply came sharp and steady, like a blade.
"Not nerve, Mordred. Certainty."
Jeanne, still observing, let out a quiet sigh. She knew the weight of such an oath, but deep down, she felt those words were not empty.
Sisigou gave a dry laugh, shaking his extinguished cigarette.
"Hah… so that's how it is. Looks like I didn't lose my Servant after all. I just handed her to an even more stubborn Master than me."
Mordred turned back to Arthur, a fierce smile lighting her face.
"Then… let's see how far this madness goes, my new Master."
Arthur inclined his head, his gaze sharp, unwavering.
"Not just Master, Mordred. Partner."
---
(End of Chapter)
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."