The wooden ship sped across the desert at an unnatural pace, gliding as if on water. The fierce winds were harnessed by a unique force, propelling the vessel with endless thrust.
Inside the cabin, Morpheus and the others sheltered from the sandstorm outside.
"I have a feeling a giant elder dragon might burst from the sand and charge the ship," Ritsuka said, peering through a window in the ship's wall.
Her words drew puzzled looks from nearly everyone, but Morpheus nodded. "You're not wrong. It does feel like an elder dragon could erupt from the sand, forcing us to grab our weapons and fight it hand-to-hand."
Ritsuka glanced at him, surprised. "You play it too?!"
Morpheus nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, I'm a huge fan!"
The others waited silently for the two to explain.
Ritsuka turned to Mash. "It's a game, Mash, about hunting monsters... called Monster Hunter. It has wooden ships sailing through deserts and monsters swimming in the sand. If you want to play, once the world's restored, I'll get you a copy."
Mash's eyes lit up with excitement. "Really, Senpai?!"
"Absolutely! Once the world's back to normal, I'll buy you a console and a Monster Hunter game!"
Morpheus quietly tucked away the limited-edition console he'd considered offering. He had plenty, and giving one to Mash would've been easy.
But doing so now would be tactless.
Mash clearly wanted Ritsuka's gift, even if it was just a standard console... far more meaningful than his rare edition.
If his gift disrupted Ritsuka's plan, he'd be the villain in Mash's eyes.
He wasn't about to ruin the moment!
Just then, Morpheus stepped out of the cabin, looking into the distance. A figure stood nearby... a refined-looking man, his most striking feature a prosthetic right arm.
"Human, not a Heroic Spirit…" Morpheus sensed, surprised, then leapt from the ship to confront him. "Who are you?"
"Just a passerby. Don't mind me," The man said with a smile, though it hid something.
Morpheus eyed the arm, narrowing his gaze. "That arm… Airgetlám?"
The man's expression shifted. "I'm Lucius."
Morpheus shook his head. "No, you're not."
Stardust shimmered in his hand, the power of the cosmos. Under its glow, he studied the man. "You lied. You can't fool me."
"What's that?"
"Astrology. I'm no expert, but confirming lies is easy enough," Morpheus said. Behind him, Medea and the others disembarked to check the situation.
"That arm... it's Airgetlám, right?" Medea asked, her tone certain despite the question.
As a well-versed witch, her knowledge was vast. Her connection to the Root left few secrets hidden from her.
The man hesitated, unsure how to respond. Morpheus spoke up. "One question: are you with King Arthur?"
The self-proclaimed Lucius paused, then nodded slightly.
Morpheus saw no deception.
He pressed, "Are you heading to the Holy City to aid King Arthur's plan?"
Lucius shook his head firmly. "I just want to help her."
No lie.
Helping someone could mean many things... freeing a suffering soul from this world counted. So, Lucius's words didn't alarm Morpheus. He nodded. "Fine. If you don't want to say more, you don't have to. Heading to the Holy City? Want to join us?"
"I…"
"No need to refuse, knight. Accepting help is a virtue. Besides, if you go alone, we might resolve things with King Arthur before you arrive. You could miss her final moments," Morpheus said.
His words sounded vaguely threatening, but Lucius, after a brief silence, nodded. "Thank you."
He wasn't angry, just pragmatic.
Ritsuka, watching, whispered to Mash, "He's got a good temper, not even upset."
Lucius smiled at her. "Our goals align. Who are you?"
"We're from the future, here to fix this world's issues and restore history," Morpheus explained casually. "King Arthur's not herself anymore. You could call her a 'divinity' now. The holy lance's divine nature likely corrupted her into this state."
This was deduced from Ramesses II's intel, and Morpheus was confident in his reasoning.
Even if off, it wouldn't be by much.
"It's my fault…" Lucius lowered his head. "The king is undying. To return her to death, her sword must be returned to its origin."
Morpheus asked, "Excalibur?"
Lucius paused, then nodded. "Yes… I was tasked to return the sword to the lake, but I didn't. So, the king wandered, lingering in this world, alive. I've followed her, seeking to free her. It's my duty…"
He glanced at his silver arm, clearly made of unique metal.
"That arm… called Airgetlám, but made from Excalibur's material?" Morpheus ventured.
Lucius was genuinely shocked, staring at Morpheus, stunned that he'd deduced so much so casually.
"I think I know who you are. You don't have to confirm, but I'll share my guess," Morpheus said, smiling. "You're not Lucius. You're Bedivere!"
Hearing his true name, Bedivere instinctively stepped back. His silver arm gleamed under the sun, as if echoing the stardust at Morpheus's fingertips.
"How…" Bedivere's throat tightened as sand whipped against his pale face. "I've hidden this identity for so long…"
Medea's purple robe billowed in the storm, her hand glowing with magical runes. "The Lady of the Lake's blessing wails. Forging the holy sword into a prosthetic carries a sin, tainting its pure mana like rusted chains. It's a curse, dragging the king toward death."
Mash clutched her chest, feeling warmth from her shield. Ritsuka steadied her, noticing Mash staring at Bedivere's arm. "Senpai, my shield's heating up… like it's sensed something…"
"You're connected. The Servant within you is also a Knight of the Round Table," Morpheus said, looking at Bedivere. "You've noticed, haven't you?"
The knight who last bid farewell to King Arthur... Bedivere. When he admitted failing to return the sword, Morpheus had guessed his identity.
Now exposed, Bedivere nodded lightly. "Yes, I knew from the moment I saw her."
Boarding the ship, they resumed their journey to the Holy City. Morpheus fell silent, pondering Bedivere's words.
"So, Excalibur's immortality kept Arthur from passing, and the holy lance's power let her cross the human-divine divide over time?" Medea said.
Morpheus nodded, agreeing. "It's the only explanation. The two weapons elevated her beyond mortality, likely aided by her bloodline. But the cost was her humanity."
"You seem to have more to say," Medea noted.
Morpheus sighed. "She didn't just lose humanity. Her divinity isn't true divinity... it's mechanical, not divine."
"Your tongue's as sharp as ever," Medea said, laughing, glancing at the silent knight by the ship's wall. "Saying that in front of him?"
"It's the truth. He knows it. No need to hide it."
The ship sped through the desert. When it stopped, they'd reached the desert's edge, spotting a village in the distance.
Morpheus considered briefly. "No need to engage. Let's tackle the core issue. Once history's restored, none of this will have happened."
The group agreed. Fixing the problem would revive those lost in the proper timeline. Wasting time here was pointless... better to address the source quickly.
Without hesitation, they pressed forward.
Halfway between the village and the Holy City, they encountered trouble.
Shouts of combat echoed. A Hassan fought a knight, with a hundred refugees cowering nearby.
Seeing this, Bedivere cried, "It's Tristan!"
"Knight of the Round Table Tristan, hunting refugees…" Morpheus said, raising his hand. A bow appeared... the bow of the sun god.
As he drew the string, a light arrow shot forth, streaking toward Tristan with blinding speed!
Red-haired Tristan sensed the attack and dodged, but the arrow curved like it had eyes, chasing him!
It turned midair, too close for him to react, striking his arm. His hand, holding his harp, lost its grip, blood dripping to the ground.
He looked toward the attack's source, stunned by its power.
Then he saw a familiar face among strangers.
"Bedivere?!"
Staring at his comrade with the group, Tristan froze, forgetting he was in combat. When the Hassan attacked again, he barely dodged, too shocked to counter.
Boom!
With a roar, Morpheus appeared between them, grabbing the Hassan's weapon, halting the attack.
Tristan held back, prioritizing information over fighting.
"Enough," Morpheus said, releasing the Hassan's weapon and turning to Tristan. "You were summoned by King Arthur, right?"
Tristan studied Morpheus, puzzled, before asking, "You're here to fix this world's problems?"
"Correct. I have questions. Answer them, and I'll send you back to the Throne of Heroes myself."
Tristan gave a wry smile. This human wielded power he couldn't resist.
"Can I choose?"
"Nope!" Morpheus grinned. "Don't resist. I don't mind trapping your soul and questioning it slowly."
At that moment, Morpheus seemed like a devil from hell.
***
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