Chapter 67: The King and Her Sword
Finally, after finishing their tour, Shirou and Saber walked across a verdant slope on the hill. Saber looked at the drifting white clouds, her expression carrying a hint of vacancy.
"Shirou, actually, I have been thinking about something for a while now. It's just that the more I think about it, the more afraid I become, so I've had to force myself to ignore it."
"...?" Shirou asked.
Saber did not answer immediately. Looking at this land and the crowds of people passing by, she felt a profound sense of dislocation in her heart.
"I'm wondering... if my wish truly succeeds, then what will become of the history that has already been recorded?"
The more she dwelled on it, the more uneasy she felt. Shirou sensed her current state and decided to start laying the groundwork for the truth he would tell her later. As if just making small talk, Shirou looked at the distant wheat fields and spoke.
"Saber, since you came to this world, have you ever experienced something like a hallucination... a sense of déjà vu?"
"Déjà vu?" Saber tilted her head.
"Mmm... I have indeed, though it felt like a strange hallucination, and only a tiny bit, so I didn't pay it much mind."
"I see... Just as I thought."
Shirou recalled how Kiritsugu Emiya and later Kotomine Kirei had acted strangely before their deaths, as if their final moments were flashing with memories from other worldlines.
"Saber, for some reason, this world has developed an unpredictable abnormality. In other words, whether it's the past or the future, things might have changed."
"I... don't quite understand what you mean, Shirou..." Saber looked up at him with a troubled expression.
"You just need to know that the current world is full of possibilities, and even history may have deviated," Shirou said, looking into her eyes. After Zelretch's warning, the world looked different to him. The "composition" of this world was now far too complex.
Saber still didn't seem to fully grasp it, frowning slightly as she pondered.
"Let's go. The tour is over; it's time to head back," Shirou reminded her.
Saber nodded and followed closely behind him. "Yes."
She had done the same when she was with Irisviel, primarily to protect her Master's safety. But after seeing the battle between Shirou and the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh, in that mental landscape, Saber wasn't quite sure how to feel about Shirou as her new Master.
Amidst these conflicting feelings, Saber and Shirou boarded the plane back to Fuyuki City.
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The feeling was almost the same as the trip there. Shirou watched the clouds through the window, eventually grew drowsy, and drifted into a dream.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw a medieval town scene, vastly different from reality. Standing before him was the silhouette of a girl. She wasn't fully armored; instead, she wore men's clothing, her hair tied back, staring straight ahead with a resolute gaze. She stood quietly in the center of the town, warm sunlight spilling over her fair, youthful cheeks.
Artoria, at this time, was just a girl who had recently passed her coming-of-age ceremony. The era she lived in was one of constant war. It began with the collapse of the Empire on the continent. Britain, once under the Empire's protection, saw its strength wane, and the chaos on the continent brought new foreign enemies to the island.
The once-pastoral scenery and mild summers vanished. As tribes from across the sea invaded, the living space of the British people was eroded bit by bit. If one was unlucky enough to encounter the invaders, surviving until tomorrow's meal was unlikely—death on the spot was the more probable outcome. Originally, this was an island ruled by many tribes and many kings, who briefly united to resist the foreigners.
However, one king, driven by his own desire, shouted the slogan: "I want to unify Britain!" Thus, civil war began. What followed was a long period of conflict known as "days as dark as night." And in those days, the girl named Artoria Pendragon was quietly born as the "Heir to the King."
To select a king, the high king gathered the lords and knights of the land. Everyone assumed that since they were choosing the most exceptional person to be king, it would surely be decided by combat on horseback. The gathering took place in an ordinary town. Children scrambled to be the first to arrive, and adults ran with eyes full of excessive expectation toward the meeting place.
"It's Merlin!"
"Merlin is here!"
"Today, the heir to the king will finally be chosen from among the knights!"
The crowd grew restless, excited, and cheered. However, at the gathering place, there was only a single sword thrust into a stone. Upon the hilt was an inscription in gold: 'Whoso Pulleth Out This Sword from this Stone and Anvil, is Rightwise King Born of All England.'
"This sword in the stone is the holy sword that brings victory, a proof of kingship more certain than blood!" said the magus Merlin. "He who pulls this sword from the rock shall become the King of Britain!"
Many knights tried to grasp the sword, but no one could pull it out. As the knights prepared to leave in dejection, the girl approached the rock when no one else was around. Without hesitation, she reached for the hilt.
"My, my. It would be better to think carefully before you grasp that."
She turned to see the most feared magus in the land. Merlin said, "Once you pull that sword, you will no longer be human until the very end. Not only that, but once you take it, you will be hated by all and meet a tragic death."
To the magus's words, the girl simply nodded. To become king meant no longer being human. This was a resolve she had held since she was born. A king is one who, in order to protect the people, must be the one who kills the most people.
The sword was pulled out as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and light enveloped the surroundings. In that instant, she ceased to be human. No matter how many times she would be shunned, feared, or even betrayed in the future, her heart would not change. She would live for the people. She would fight for the people. She would bring them hope. This was the responsibility of a king.
"Ah, you have chosen a difficult path," Merlin remarked.
The girl raised the golden sword with a steady gaze. "No matter what, as long as I can make the people smile, then my kingly path will not be wrong."
The people cheered.
Shirou stood in the crowd, watching the scene of the girl dressed as a man raising the sword of selection. This was an era full of war and despair, but where there is despair, hope is born. Those who hold hope, like the stars in the sky, are never truly alone. The girl who stood in the center of the people with a firm will, raising her sword high, was the star that guided them—shining brilliantly at all times, lighting the path to freedom for everyone.
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The vision faded. When he opened his eyes again, the sky had darkened. After the twilight faded, the vast cosmos and stars emerged, countless points of light flickering in the pitch-black sky.
Shirou and Saber got off the plane together.
"What comes next is facing Rider, ending the final battle, and then extracting Irisviel's soul at the right time."
It wasn't that Shirou didn't want to extract Irisviel's soul earlier, but doing so might cause her body to collapse without a soul to anchor it, and Saber would never get to see the Grail. Shirou didn't want to end up in a situation where he failed everyone. Taking a breath of the coastal city's cool air, he looked ahead. Fuyuki was right before them.
"The final battle is finally about to begin."
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The sky was incredibly gloomy. For the past few days, Fuyuki City had been under a state of oppression. The constant overcast weather gave the impression that it would never clear up, and that light would never return. Some who sensed the wrongness had already fled the city overnight. Only those rooted in Fuyuki were unwilling to leave their birthplace.
But the string of strange events had begun to fray the people's fragile nerves. First was the destruction at the Mion River, followed two nights later by a massive explosion. Each time the scale grew larger, and the destruction more terrifying. Yet the news continued to report nonsense like "gas leaks from old pipes under the concrete." After yesterday, today remained just as oppressive; people were nearly crushed by the gloom.
It felt as though time had stopped, but when Waver awoke from a dreamless sleep, he saw the same darkness as in his slumber. Night had fallen again. For those who led Servants, this was the inevitable time for battle.
"You're awake, boy."
Hearing Rider's voice, Waver sat up in bed. Rider was sitting by the window. Waver looked over and saw nothing but a sky full of stars. Besides the stars, there was no scenery to speak of.
"I told you to wake me up as soon as it got dark, what's the big idea?"
"My apologies. I simply hoped you could rest a bit more to build up your strength."
Hearing this, a look of confusion appeared on Waver's face.
"What does that mean?"
Rider looked out the window. Nighttime Fuyuki was silent, yet it gave off an incredibly oppressive feeling, as if a storm could break at any moment—just like the terrifying battle between Lancer and Archer last night that caused massive casualties. Even Rider admitted to being shocked by the power Lancer and Archer unleashed; he wasn't sure of victory against either side. Because of this, Rider's attitude toward the Holy Grail War was more serious than ever.
"I have a premonition. Tonight will be the night a winner is decided."
Hearing Rider's words, Waver seemed to feel it too.
"Yeah, I feel like tonight's atmosphere is even more heavy than usual. It's like... a feeling that a heavy rain is coming..."
As Waver spoke, several pillars of light suddenly lit up the sky outside.
"What are those...?"
"It seems other Heroic Spirits are inviting us to a duel. In that case, there's no reason not to go!" Rider laughed heroically, then drew his Celtic sword and pointed it toward the sky. "Appear, my steed!"
With Rider's shout, a warhorse tore through space and appeared. It was undoubtedly the battle-hardened horse that once carried Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, across the world.
"Come on up, boy. Let's go join this final battle together."
Rider reached out his large hand to Waver, but Waver looked at it, hesitated, and took a half-step back.
"What's wrong with you?" Rider looked at him in confusion.
Waver kept his head down, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was incredibly clear-headed now; he knew his own worth. His magecraft was merely third-rate. Supporting Rider's Reality Marble at the Mion River had completely drained him. After that, Rider could only rely on the small amount of mana he had stored himself to fight. Although Rider never complained and even encouraged him, it only made Waver feel worse.
'Can a weakling like me truly stand beside a King in battle?'
No matter how one looked at it, he was just an amateur magus. Even if he went to this final duel, he wouldn't be able to help. If so, what was the point of following along? Waver felt dejected. At his age, with this level of magecraft, his talent was clearly mediocre. A third-rate magus like him wasn't worthy of being the Master of a powerful Heroic Spirit like Iskandar.
But, if he could offer a tiny bit of help at the very end, the trip would have been worth it.
Thinking this, Waver raised his right hand with the Command Seals toward Rider. "I, Waver Velvet, command thee with a Command Seal—"
Under the moonlight, Waver used the first Command Seal.
"Rider, you must obtain the final victory."
The Command Seal glowed with a brilliant scarlet light and then quickly faded.
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