A towering light, one bright enough to pierce through the heavens.

And the dancing of the summer reeds on a cold moon-lit night.

Tensions were running high, and the nauseating smell of iron and sweat permeated throughout the air. It was a battlefield, one strewn with the bodies of the dead and the injured, but not all was as it seemed. The winds blew fierce, and the stars themselves seemed to s.h.i.+ne with a splendor that heralded the presence of something more.

A power ancient.

A power primordial.

The breath of the earth.

Arturia's breathing was ragged, the swords in her hands, illuminating the terrified expressions of the beasts before her and the wonderment on James Wolfred's eyes. The stinging of her wounds were now meaningless, bones mending and skin sealing enough for her to act without restraint.

There seemed to exist something in that moment, a pulse of energy that the very planet itself seemed to react to and shudder.

The aura of that which was known as a Last Phantasm.

An Ultimate G.o.d-Forged Weapon and a Divine Construct of the planet.

Arturia's body was experiencing change. A phenomenon that she could not describe as deluge upon deluge of techniques she should not have had known were appearing within her mind one by one. Invisible Air, Sword Skills, War Tactics, it was all too overwhelming to take at once, therefore she simply disregarded them to focus on the matter at hand.

Power ran through her veins, the blood flowing from her injuries gradually ceasing as her mind calmed.

Mine a blade of the people!

The King who waged war against the invaders of her country.

Mine a blade of the just!

And an ideal that drove her ahead.

Her gaze sharpened, her muscles growing taught as the aura around her intensified into a pillar that stretched towards the sky.

One by one, the mots of glowing light in the air froze; their figures blurring in agitation as the spirits of the Earth they represented came alive. The Fae, the Fairy folk, guardians of that which was the pinnacle of Holy Swords, and they sung forth a proclamation.

LINE BREAK

A time of beasts and monsters.

Of Men and Dragons.

In the depths of the forests, far and hidden away from any man-made settlement, a beautiful woman sat upon the edge of a lake; the tranquil expression on her face marred with the stirrings of confusion as her gaze s.h.i.+fted from the sword still held lightly on her lap and then to the distant horizon. A simple observation was made, and it was one that caused a change in the woman not seen since times immemorial.

Ripples formed over still waters

For she felt an aura too identical to be called a fake.

LINE BREAK

Arturia would not understand the implications that she had created at that moment, but all that currently mattered in her mind was to save the people before her.

As her gaze settled on the beasts in front of her and then to the beast of her childhood, wisps of blue mana trailed across her arms, the energy of her magic core igniting into an open flame.

And for a moment, her pupils s.h.i.+fted into slits,

The blood of Dragons in her veins erupting with a dominant force.

She took a step forward, and the beast of her childhood took a step back.

"B-But that's impossible," The beast stuttered, beads of sweat forming over its brow.

A suppression of blood, the effects of fighting against the bloodline of a greater phantasmal being. Moreover,

"T-That sword shouldn't be in your possession!" It shouted in hysterics.

Even with Arturia's battered appearance, her presence now was enough to cause every beast in the vicinity to cower let alone just the beast from her childhood who immediately retreated to hide amongst its kin.

Hearing the beast's words, Arturia knew them to be true.

The sword that came from the sky, she had never seen it before. And yet, it felt familiar, as if she was carrying a sword that had accompanied her for a significant portion of her life. A feeling that only continued to grow within her, a blade of the ideal King. A history never to be forgotten.

A sentiment preserved within steel.

Train not because you must. Train only because it's the path you've chosen.

A gentle touch, much like the way a woman patted a child's head.

It was warm, and so too was the smile of the woman in blue that flashed across Arturia's eyes.

Hair the same shade as her own, and the same expressive eyes of teal. It was like staring at a mirror. One that reflected the image of a woman who stood strong. Older than her and wiser, revealing a path forward as a hand was gently placed on her shoulder.

She felt its grip, the very resolve within it. It's confidence.

"Worry not of the future, for he will always be by your side."

A voice echoed into her head. Thereafter, the hand left her shoulder, and it was as if the image of the woman was never there, replaced by the thrumming yellow light of the sword in her hand. The crystallization of all of mankind's hopes and dreams, and the vow that was wished upon the stars on that day.

The vow of a Sword and a Sheath.

"S-Stay away!"

The sound of the beast's voice snapped Arturia out of her momentary daze, her attention adjusting to the trembling beasts before her and then s.h.i.+fting to the positioning of her feet. In her daze, her body had been steadily moving forward, every single beast in the area withdrawing at her steps.

The beauty of her eyes as she stared up at the light of her sword at that moment was only contrasted by the resolve that flashed across them.

That which was wielded not for self gain.

And that which was wielded for the sake of humanity.

It was the symbol of a monarch whose name would exist for an eternity.

The torrent of life that s.h.i.+nes in the ether.

"Excalibur."

The name echoed in her mind.

Foreign and unfamiliar, yet at the same time filling her with a courage that extended past her years.

The sword hummed, a steady vibration of acknowledgment that coursed through her body and extended outwards. As one, the mots of light in the air came together; flowing like grains of sand that steadily crawled up Excalibur's fuller and up to the central ridge where the point extended forward.

Caliburn shone in response, the fiery white glow surrounding its blade resembling a burning flame.

The child chosen by fate.

And the child chosen by a sword.

She who would one day become King of a land known as Britain suddenly began a legend that would be sung by the bards.

The Warrior Princess of the open plains. The white lily that bloomed on the battlefield.

"Hah!" She shouted, planting her feet into the ground before charging ahead.

She was fast, kicking up dirt as she ran and leaving the gra.s.s to sway in her wake. Even the sounds of the beasts panic were drowned out by the sheer aura of her approach.

Charge forth and banish the wicked!

Caliburn sailed through the air, a flowing flame-like light that rendered all under its blade into motionless bodies.

With arms outstretched, and swords swinging viciously, a sword dance like none other was executed.

One plunged into the body of another, skin, fat, and bone cut apart as easily as b.u.t.ter. The beast didn't even now it had died until it coughed out a mouthful of blood and collapsed onto the ground.

Arturia pulled her sword out of its body before twisting and following up with a reverse swing to the other beasts around. However, despite her strength, the beasts numbers were too much for her to handle. More so when the beast of her childhood was beginning to direct the beasts to block her advance within the crowd. She needed to do something, and the answer came to her within moments through the thrum of her sword.

Invoke thy name.

Worthy King of Britain.

The hands that had once struggled to wield mere wooden swords were now wielding blades able to cast away even the dark. The training of one's youth rising in an explosive shout that stretched across the battlefield.

s.h.i.+ne! The Golden Sword of the Victorious.

"Sword of Selection, Caliburn!"

It was as if time had stopped. That which was invoked was not merely the calling of a name, but the acclimation of a legend. A n.o.ble Phantasm.

Caliburn raised up, and the dull l.u.s.ter of a pale white flame erupted into a wave of energy that twisted and distorted. Like the ebbing of the ocean waves, a d.a.m.n of energy seemed to have been unleashed all at once. Unceasing, unbending, crus.h.i.+ng all within its radiance.

Her vision narrowed, spotting the beast of her childhood lurking in the crowd of beasts. Different from the others, it was the only one moving its mouth in communication. The only problem was that it was too far away for her to unleash her attack on. Therefore, she had to get closer and Excalibur responded to her intentions.

Side stepping, she stabbed Excalibur into the ground in an explosion of magical power that sent her rocketing into the sky.

Twisting, she adjusted herself.

Wind whipping across her face and aggravating her open injuries, tufts of her hair unbraided in the midst of her actions and were blown back by the ensuing gale. Golden locks that s.h.i.+mmered in the night in her subsequent descent.

Her target was right before her.

It didn't matter if this beast had high regenerative properties. It didn't mater if its limbs could still move while cut off. There was no room for hesitation.

The light of Calibrun shone brighter than even the moon at her back, the trail of yellow-stardust left behind by Excalibur's energy blanketing all that fought in the night.

A radiance that carried hope.

A power that represented the acclimation of dreams.

And a feeling that all would soon be concluded.

James Woflred and the others stood rooted. Long ago had the enemies that had once surrounded them dispersed in retreat, and yet, none of them realized it. Theirs mouths agape, and their bodies trembling in unbridled agitation rivaled only by that of their awe.

A figure that bided all to remain steadfast. To reaffirm where their loyalties lied.

A King.

A Monarch.

"A Child of Uther," James mumbled dumbly.

The resemblance was uncanny, and only now did James realize it when looking at the woman wreathed in white silk and polished armour. Arturia's demeanor, her aura, it was comparable to Igraine, the supposed wife of King Uther and the scandal of that year. Yet matters were never clear to James about what had occurred with King Uther, the Duke of Cornwall, and Igraine. Still, it didn't take long for James to come to his own conclusions.

A princess had been born, no; a Queen.

Staring up at Arturia's form, James's expression filled with purpose.

For the woman who would fight on another's behalf, it was his duty not to back down.

"Men!" He yelled, breaking the others out of their reverie. "Chase the enemy!"

Leading those around him, James and the others with their bruised appearances attacked in a bid to aid Arturia.

None of James and the rest's actions escaped Arturia's eyes though, giving her all the more reason to strike before any more casualties could occur.

Strength appearing in her grip, Caliburn's magical energy reached the zenith of its capabilities as hairline cracks splintered over the blade's surface.

The sword swung, and the world trembled.

It was a ray of light that struck down from Caliburn's tip and landed directly on top of the beast of her childhood. The air began to glimmer, and in an instant, the area was carpeted by thunderous discharges of heat energy that reduced all to smolders.

The ground caked and dried, plants withering into a fine dust as the beast howled mournfully, its very body eaten away in the light. And at the end of it all, nothing remained but an uneven and scorched landscape.

Arturia's body plummeted to the ground in the next moment, raising up a cloud of dirt and debris that spread around her. Her knees shook from the strain, the tinkling of her armour revealing her state of exhaustion in the crater she had formed, yet it wasn't over. Just because she defeated the beast that had rallied the beasts together didn't mean that the beasts would disappear.

They ran in the distance, a wall of hulking furred bodies desperately attempting to flee. However, she simply could not let them go and ravage other lands.

Excalibur thrummed in her hands as she placed Caliburn down to rest.

Her mind emptied, her will materializing through Excalibur and by extension her actions.

She held the sword loosely in her palms, her legs spreading and planting her feet firmly in a drawn position.

The roar of a magic core.

Wind began to twist around her.

She was heating up, the strain of the use of her own magic core raising her internal temperature. Steam soon came out of her mouth with every breath, and her eyes grew blood shot.

The power to save all was in her hands, the very hope of the people.

Grant me strength.

Her eyes closed in a moment of clarity.

It was a divine light that grants victory.

Her body moved without warning, the steps seeming practiced. There was a swell of magical power that discharged around her, tendril of lightning-like energy hovering in the air.

One arm moved, followed by the other.

Then a turn of the waist.

And an incline of her head.

Her eyes snapped open, and when they did, the sword was swung.

A flash that turned day into night.

Different from Caliburn, the full power of Excalibur was not invoked, yet even then it was enough. A crescent of golden radiance rapidly travelled across the plains, bathing the fleeing beasts completely. There were no screams of anguish, no howls of pain. Instead, in the dimness of the night, the beasts just seemed to disappear.

Arturia released a breath that she didn't know that she was holding. She was exhausted, and only now that everything was over did she collapse onto her knees. Caliburn lay be her side, flat against the ground. Yet Excalibur was different.

Right before her very eyes, it began to dissolve into particles of glowing magical energy, its blade erected atop the ground. The sword that had come at her time of need seemed to understand that its time had pa.s.sed, fading away under the moonlight.

She stared unblinking, gulping audibly.

A breath pa.s.sed, and then two before she lowered her head. Even without her having to think about it, she understood when she recalled the words of the woman that had appeared before her in battle.

The man who would always remain by her side.

Staring at Excalibur's deteriorating form, she knew that it must have been him who had aided her once more.

s.h.i.+rou.

The name resounded in her mind, a quiver forming on her lips. Her teeth clenched together, and for a moment, she remained as she was, at a loss. Where was he? What had happened to him? These thoughts were the only constants in her mind only broken when the sounds of hurried footsteps entered her ears.

"You did it!" Helen yelled in excitement.

Ignoring all forms of etiquette, Helen discarded her armour and rushed up to embrace Arturia yet paused as she drew near.

Behind Helen were James and the others he had brought along.

Arturia stared at them blankly before composing herself and suppressing the anxiety she still felt inside. She didn't need nor want to worry anyone. Exhausted as she was, she still forced a smile onto her face to give those around her some rea.s.surance.

Sadly, it seemed to have the opposite effect as James's and the others expressions stiffened. It was clear to them why Helen had stopped just before reaching Arturia.

Arturia looked haggard, her expression pale. From the way she was forcing herself to smile, it was clear that she had yet to notice that her own body was trembling from the sheer magical exertion she had undergone. Although she had trained with Merlin, she had never used her magical core as incessantly as she had in the past hour. The state of her body was the result of her body still adapting to the magical energy of a Dragon.

Moreover, there was something more glaring. Just because she didn't feel her injuries didn't mean that she didn't have any that were yet to mend.

Everywhere where there was exposed skin, there was some form of abrasion or cut that stained the fabric of her clothes red. Her once regal appearance was in tatters, the whites of her dress marred with the colour of gra.s.s, dirt, and mud.

It was too much of a contrast from the regal bearing she had carried at the eve of the battle.

James glanced away in guilt, knowing that he had placed a tremendous pressure on a young woman's shoulders.

She had really fought too hard.

Noticing that Arturia was attempting to push up onto her feet, Helen was the first to intervene.

"E-Enough," Helen said with a pained expression, her eyes downcast as she immediately wrapped an arm beneath Arturia's shoulder. "You've done enough, fought enough."

Arturia stared at Helen in confusion. Even if she was injured, her const.i.tution was still far better than an average human. Currently, even if she found it troublesome to walk, it wasn't something out of the scope of her abilities. She immediately tried to refuse Helen's intention since Helen herself was just as injured.

However, Helen grew stern.

"Men come help me," Helen said grunting while adjusting Arturia's weight over her shoulder.

With Helen's beckoning, James and the others were quick to move.

One arm after another was placed over Arturia until it was more like she was being carried rather than being supported.

Looking at the solemnity of those carrying her, Arturia no longer spoke a word and allowed them to do as they wished. They handled her with care, bringing her back to the town of Bristol where they laid her upon a feather bed in James's manor and bid her farewell.

The consideration of the people should have had uplifted her spirits, but the moment they left to let her rest, it reminded her deeply that she was alone. There was no Sir Ector, Kay, or Merlin around her. Not even s.h.i.+rou.

Her lips thinned, a sigh escaping her mouth while her eyes stared blankly at the darkness of the room illuminated by an open window. Despite winning such a fierce battle, she didn't feel like she had won at all. Instead, nothing had changed, at least when it came to her own circ.u.mstances.

Restlessness eating away at her, she propped herself up and removed the quilts James and the others had placed over her before getting out of bed. She stood there blankly, not knowing what it was that she should do, but inadvertently drawing herself towards the open window when the sounds of celebration reached her ears.

Bristol was in high spirits. The beasts had been killed and the townsfolk were now able to sleep in peace. Her expression turned somber, she herself should have had been just as happy, just as excited, but this wasn't the case.

A pain greater than any wound was throbbing within her accompanied by the uncertainty of it all, yet the people were safe, her duty done.

Her fingers clutched tightly over the windowsill, her eyes closing in silent contemplation. Slowly, she began to remove her blood-stained armour, placing it off to the side and cleaning herself before pausing as she reached for the hamper.

It was by reflex, but her hands were looking for a pair of men's tunic and long shorts, the type of garments that she had worn for over half of her life. Instead, what she found placed before her was a lavishly decorated blue dress.

It was the kind of clothing that she had only ever imagined herself wearing in her youth as a simple village girl. Now that it was before her, she didn't know what to feel; more so when she considered that she was currently no longer acting as a man.

Her head dipped slightly, her lips pursing together as a thought filtered into her mind.

For whom did she want to wear a dress for?

She had never really cared much for appearances. That smile. That tenderness. It was all that she had ever wanted. Therefore, the dress never really mattered, and she knew it deep down.

Eyes drooping, she changed into the blue dress, the silk-like fabric smoothly gliding over her skin and all the way down to her ankles. Thereafter, she found herself back at the window wis.h.i.+ng to the stars.

No longer was she a King, nor did she hold any semblance of regality.

Instead, it was just a girl.

A woman holding on to a single hope.

Please be safe.

LINE BREAK

s.h.i.+rou only let out a sigh of relief when the last thing he saw before Agatha's projection faded was Arturia being carried off by James and the others. Only when he was certain of Arturia's safety did he realize that Agatha was panting in exhaustion.

"I told you, didn't I?" Agatha asked rhetorically, her face pale. "I was running low on magical energy before opening up that hole in s.p.a.ce. And now I'm basically empty."

Agatha shrugged tiredly before taking a seat on top of Efret, much to the bird's indignation.

"I won't be able to send you back for a while because of this you know," Agatha said with a frown.

s.h.i.+rou only shook his head.

"I don't regret it," he said, brows furrowed. "It doesn't matter how long it takes before I get back if she was gone."

After all, if Arturia was gone, then there would be no meaning left in his life.

Even the greatest of forged swords would rust and deteriorate over time much less the ideals he had strove for. Even when he knew that there was no meaning nor end to his goal of saving everyone, so long as he found the slightest of happiness in the process, it was enough. For it was what she had believed in as well while supporting a kingdom doomed to ruin. More than that, it was the promise that he had made that brought him here.

To Arturia, the woman who had stolen his heart.

Agatha seemed to see something in his expression and a smile came to her lips.

"Does she really mean that much to you?" Agatha asked, placing her palms on top of her lap.

"Yes, more than anything," he said without pause.

Agatha's expression became unreadable, but it was clear that she was in deep thought. The way her hands seemed to subconsciously feel around her wrists also made it clear that Agatha wasn't used to being freed from the chains that had bound her.

"I see," Agatha said after a while. "Then that is acceptable. However, let's move on to more important matters."

Agatha gestured with her hands and a blank slate of rock appeared in front of her. Despite being blank, the slate was adorned with strange runic figures and four hollow cavities that seemed to be missing some component.

"This is the key to the Reverse Side of the World created by Lord Ashton, and as you can see, it's incomplete."

Agatha pointed at the four grooves with rough edges.

"Four jewels were used to power this runic slate as it was once placed near one of the anchors of the world. However, with the death of Lord Ashton, the beasts on the other side were able to temporarily commandeer it before I could intervene. As such, the four jewels that power the key were stolen leading to an opening to the world that those in the Reverse Side could exploit."

Agatha crossed her legs and leaned her back against something in the darkness of the scenery around her.

"As such, if we're going to solve this problem, those four jewels must be recovered and the beasts that traversed onto the earth, all sent back. Of course, the task of obtaining those jewels will have to fall upon you, young heir of Ashton. As for myself, even with our contract, I can only guarantee that no more phantasmal species will be able to cross."

Efret snorted at Agatha's words, causing her mouth to curve in displeasure.

"I suppose I'll have to correct myself on something," Agatha said coughing awkwardly into her hand even as she jabbed Efret with a leg. "With our contract, I can aid you should you need it, but I can't guarantee that no phantasmal species will be able to cross between worlds in my absence. Therefore, you should call on me only if the situation requires it, and I'm sure that this oversized turkey can help decided if my presence is required."

"Which is never," Efret swore to itself internally.

"Understood," s.h.i.+rou replied.

For the matter regarding the jewels that powered the key, it was something he had to do. More than just because it would save the lives of others, he needed to do it so that Arturia would not live in a world of dangers like the Era of the G.o.ds.

"How would I go about finding these jewels?" s.h.i.+rou asked.

Agatha simply fiddled for something in her clothes and then placed her hand out in front of her.

He stared at Agatha's offered limb in confusion, there was nothing there.

"Please pa.s.s me the stone," Agatha said, referring to the very stone that had taken s.h.i.+rou to this world of dark mist and shadows.

Understanding what Agatha wanted, he did as was instructed and placed the stone in her palm. Thereafter, Agatha closed her hand, and when she re-opened it, a red fang-like mark was over the stone's surface.

"This will guide you," she said tossing the stone back to him.

He caught it without much trouble.

"The closer you are to a jewel, the brighter the marking over the stone will grow," Agatha explained. "However, a word of warning. Even I do not know who's in possession of those keys as I arrived after they were stolen. Thus, you best be careful if you run into phantasmal species too strong for you to handle. For that, you must at least rely on this turkey below me. Even if he might be weaker than me, he can still fly away when it counts."

Efret's eyes twitched. It had never run away from a battle in its life unlike what this b.i.t.c.h of a woman was insinuating. Efret knew that there was a reason he hated this woman, and it wasn't because she was powerful.

Ignoring Efret's fiery expression, Agatha was seriously staring at s.h.i.+rou's face for confirmation of her words.

"I got it then."

Agatha nodded her head in satisfaction. However, she froze when she heard s.h.i.+rou's next sentence.

"Thanks for the concern. It may not mean much, but it means a lot to have someone to count on," s.h.i.+rou said earnestly. He had taken it for granted in his last life; the reliability and connections of Rin and Sakura and everyone he had once a.s.sociated with that disappeared over time.

From then, he had always been relying on himself to walk along his own road even if he had ended up alone as a result. Therefore, he learned to cherish such connections.

"Ah?"

A small sound escaped Agatha's mouth before a redness rushed to her cheeks, her eyes widening.

"D-Don't get the wrong idea here Ashton," Agatha stuttered, her arms crossing beneath her chest in a stiff manor. "It would only be trouble for me if my contractor had a premature death. Anyway here!" She said in a sudden fl.u.s.ter.

A small object sailed through the air from Agatha's outstretched hand.

s.h.i.+rou caught it and took a moment to observe it. It was a carved red-jewel shaped into a ruby.

"It has my aura in it. A mark of my ident.i.ty that should help you one way or another," Agatha said gruffly.

"Then thanks again. I'll make sure not to worry you in the future," s.h.i.+rou said with a polite smile.

"Hmmph!" Agatha felt like hiding in a hole as she stared s.h.i.+rou. "Out! Out! get out of my sight! And You."

Agatha dug her heel into Efret who couldn't have had found a better time to reveal its amus.e.m.e.nt.

"What do you think it feels like to be a cold turkey?"

A chill travelled down Efret's back, and it wisely chose to say nothing under Agatha's ire.

In the next moment, a layer of fog surrounded s.h.i.+rou and he was brought along with Efret to another s.p.a.ce away from Agatha.

"Just stay there for a couple days, I should have enough strength by then to send you back," Agatha's voice echoed out soon after, causing s.h.i.+rou to smile wryly.

Left to his own devices, s.h.i.+rou's sat down and began contemplating to himself.

He had dismissed Excalibur from Arturia's hands almost as soon as she had finished using it in battle. Not only was it premature for her to use the Holy Sword known as the Last Phantasm, she wasn't yet ready for it. If not for the fact that the Excalibur he traced utilized the history of Saber herself, he doubted that anyone would have had been able to use it as proficiently as Arturia had. After all, he was betting on a gamble.

A theory of resonance.

The wielder of the traced Excalibur was Saber who was identical to Arturia herself. Therefore, the techniques recorded within should in theory by accessible to her through Excalibur's own acknowledgment.

Don't get him wrong though. He wasn't certain of this theory and until he had actually seen Arturia fighting with Excalibur, his worries were not abated.

Contrary to how composed he was when Agatha revealed the process of the battle, he was beyond simply unnerved seeing Arturia so injured. He was frightened and anxious. He didn't know what he would have had done if Arturia had died in that wave of beasts and it caused his body to shudder.

Even now, he could still faintly detect the trembling in his hands.

He wanted to see her.

To make sure that she was okay.

And to hold her in his arms.

More than that, he was shocked to discover that he longed for even more.

He wanted her to be happy, but he was also selfish.

s.h.i.+rou's mouth closed silently, a bitterness in his chest.

He wanted to see her.

He wanted to see her.

Arturia had come too close to death in s.h.i.+rou's eyes, forcing him to come to terms with something that he should have had done a long time ago.

Still, he had to wait for just a while longer, and in that time, he would get to work.

His eyes closed, his magic circuits flaring and increasing his body temperature. However, he had grown skilled enough to know the capabilities of what his body could handle. Methodically, he began to direct his magical energy towards the Ashton Magic Crest to study its capabilities. Yet it wasn't as easy as he had antic.i.p.ated.

There was a barrier surrounding the Ashton Magic Crest that was only allowing small portions of his energy to inspect it. As such, it was bound to take a long time.

Sighing, he could only get to work on a.n.a.lyzing it as Efret laid down by his side to rest.

LINE BREAK

In the course of the seven days that had pa.s.sed, he was still left at square one. Despite the meager amount of magic he was able to enter into the Magic Crest, he couldn't discern anything. After all, something within the crest seemed to cut off his connection to his magic, rendering his efforts useless. However, he wouldn't just give up.

There was one more method he could try.

Yet it was at that moment, Agatha once again appeared before s.h.i.+rou and Efret.

She appeared from the shadows, walking leisurely until she stopped just a meter or so away from Efret who glared back.

Agatha ignored Efret and s.h.i.+fted her gaze towards the one that mattered.

"I've recovered a suitable amount of energy and can now send you back at your behest," Agatha said curtly.

As soon as s.h.i.+rou heard Agatha's words, he put aside everything else. The issue with the Magic Crest could be dealt with later anyway.

"Then I'll have to trouble you," s.h.i.+rou spoke out, unable to hide the urgency he felt as he stood up on his feet.

Agatha nodded, stretching a hand out and clawing at the air.

s.p.a.ce began to bend and contort, Agatha's fingers digging into the very fabric of the world. With a small shout of effort, Agatha pried a man-sized hole open with her bare hands, her face flushed.

"Go now," Agatha urged in a strained voice. "Even if I have enough strength, it's still a ha.s.sle to hold this thing open for longer than necessary."

Expectedly, Efret was the first to leave without hesitation, fitting its body through without complaint.

s.h.i.+rou followed soon after, giving his thanks to Agatha as he pa.s.sed by and causing her lips to twitch as a result.

When both Efret and s.h.i.+rou were through the tear in s.p.a.ce, Agatha released her hold and watched as the world mended itself.

Once again, she was alone.

Although that thought caused an unspeakable loneliness to ebb from within her, there were other matters to concern herself with.

Her expression became increasingly inscrutable as she furrowed her brows. She hadn't brought it up to s.h.i.+rou before, but the matter with the sword he had created was still fresh in her mind. Not only was it a n.o.ble Phantasm, but it was also a Last Phantasm, something she never thought that she would be able to see again.

A weapon of the planet, it wasn't meant to be used by human hands let alone the way s.h.i.+rou seemed to be able to summon it at a whim. Still, it was a part of her new master's strength and was thus beneficial in the long run.

With its power, Agatha could not foresee any phantasmal species that may be able to contend with it and was thus happy. More so when she considered another notion.

Was Excalibur the only sword her new master could create?

There were endless possibilities.

Yet regardless of anything, there was one definite outcome however.

Her eyes grew cold and filled with a dark malice as she thought of the future.

"You best not meddle with what's mine, Lady Vivian," she whispered lowly, disappearing back into the shadows.

LINE BREAK

The smell of damp earth and fallen leaves a.s.sailed s.h.i.+rou's senses as he adjusted to his surroundings. He was in an abandoned cellar of sorts that had hardly been maintained over the years.

Parchment and bits of hemp were strewn across the room along with broken furniture. Based on the claw marks on the wood, it became evident that an animal had once made its way into the cellar.

He was only able to determine such details due to the light Efret was giving off with its body.

Still, he didn't return to make observations on an abandoned cellar.

Shaking his head, he began to walk towards the light of the hatch leading outside, Efret shrinking down and perching on his shoulder.

It didn't' take much to open the hatch, it practically crumbled into pieces when he pushed against it.

Moon light began to pour over him, the chill of the night wind brus.h.i.+ng against his skin as he stepped out of the cellar.

He squinted his eyes, trying to determine just where he was.

Around him were tattered homes and upturned fields with traces of large foot prints in the soil. From the looks of things, he had returned to a familiar area. It was near the location where Arturia had fought against the beasts if not a bit further away. The traces of the beast's foot prints on the ground were tantamount to his observation.

"Efret," he beckoned, waiting patiently for the bird to take to the skies.

Even without instructing it, Efret was able to understand s.h.i.+rou's intentions after it glanced at the foot prints left on the ground moving in the opposite direction of Bristol.

Although Arturia had killed a countless number of beasts, s.h.i.+rou couldn't be sure if all of them were eliminated. Therefore, it was his intention to get Efret to scout the area in the direction that the foot prints led to. With a caw, Efret nodded at s.h.i.+rou before flying off.

Left alone, s.h.i.+rou closed his mouth before resolutely walking in the direction of Bristol in the distance. It was the middle of the night and generally everything should have had been dark, but this wasn't the case. Large torches were lit and smaller ones were placed outside the homes of the inhabitants. Even from where he stood, the sounds of laughter and celebration were echoing within the air.

He already understood why.

The successful elimination of the beasts that had been terrorizing the town and the relief of the inhabitants now that everything was over.

Despite the beast being dealt with around seven or so days back, the joyous mood had yet to abate. The smell of wine and alcohol was rampant within the streets, people going about holding bottles of spirit, beer, and moons.h.i.+ne and sharing it with others. He ended up avoiding all that however.

It wasn't that he wasn't one to enjoy a good celebration, but he wasn't in the mood to do such a thing right now. Instead, after he had approached the town, he immediately made his way to James Wolfred's manor. He wasn't sure where Arturia was, but he was certain that the villagers would treat her well after her efforts in the battle. Therefore, she was probably made to rest in James's very own manor, and even if she wasn't, he had plans to question James on her whereabouts.

Arriving at the front of James's door, he gave a loud knock that resounded within the household. Moments later, he heard the telltale sounds of someone's approach before the lock over the large wooden door clinked open and a head peaked out.

"Yes? Is something th-!" James cut himself off. "Y-Your back?"

There was a relief in James's voice that s.h.i.+rou could hear, and even before s.h.i.+rou could answer James's question the man fully opened his door.

"Come in, come in," James insisted with a smile, placing a hand over s.h.i.+rou's shoulder and leading him into a living room.

The living room itself was fairly exceptional as James was a man of status in Bristol. Just because James kept his study sparce of anything unnecessary didn't mean that all his living s.p.a.ces were devoid of luxury. In the living room, there was a sofa lined with stuffed pillows adjacent to the hearth at its right. Across from the sofa was a recliner that appeared to be James's personal chair as the cus.h.i.+ons were still sunk in from when James had gotten up to open the door.

Sitting s.h.i.+rou down on the sofa, James immediately opened a bottle of wine after taking out two clear cups.

"It's fine I don't need to drink," s.h.i.+rou tried to deny, yet James simply raised a hand.

"No no, this one's on me," James insisted pouring s.h.i.+rou a full gla.s.s. "If not for you bringing her highness to my humble town, then I can't guarantee that we'd even be sitting here drinking this wine."

s.h.i.+rou grew startled with James's words. "Highness?" He asked weakly.

James nodded in all seriousness. "Don't worry, I won't spread the matter. I trust that there was a reason why you didn't introduce her to me with her proper t.i.tle, but it's true that enemies can lie anywhere in these troubled waters."

Saying that, James drank an entire cup of wine, the red flush spreading up his neck evident to how strong the burn of the alcohol was. "Come now lad, drink, it's a joyous occasion!"

s.h.i.+rou stared at the cup of alcohol in front of him, and then to James's expectant gaze.

Fine.

He would humour the man.

Taking the gla.s.s in his hands, he downed the entire thing to end the matter as quickly as possible.

James's eyes bulged before he laughed uproariously. "Good lad!" The man said in excitement before James filled s.h.i.+rou's cup once again under s.h.i.+rou's incredulous gaze.

"Lord Wolfred, please," s.h.i.+rou tried to refuse however James wouldn't take no for an answer.

Reluctantly, s.h.i.+rou drank that last cup, feeling as it burned its way down his throat. However, this time he didn't drink it too fast. Instead he part.i.tioned it to make sure that James wouldn't get any ideas about him wanting another cup.

Wiping his mouth, James relaxed into his seat and stared at s.h.i.+rou when both their wine cups were empty.

"Well lad, I'm sure you didn't come here just to drink now did you?" James asked.

"Yeah," s.h.i.+rou said feeling a tad light-headed from the alcohol before gaining some clarity of mind. "Do you know if my friend is here?" He asked.

"Hmmm," James hummed glumly. "About that, your friend was here until just a moment ago. She's been leaving around this time of night for the past few days in your absence. What bothers me is that she doesn't appear to be in high spirits even though she was the one who brought victory."

"I see," s.h.i.+rou said with concern. "Did she ever say where it was that she went?"

"Sadly not," James replied pouring himself another cup of alcohol. "Besides, I didn't wish to disturb her when she was resting from her injuries to ask."

s.h.i.+rou nodded in understanding before standing up on his feet. "Then thank you for having me, Lord Wolfred, but I must excuse myself."

James swirled the cup of wine in his hands, watching as bubbles formed and s.h.i.+fted into a thin foam before smirking.

"You're going to look for her, aren't you?" He said. "Well don't let an old man like myself stop you. One has to treasure a wife like that, and I'm somewhat jealous of your lucky star to be born with the ability to s.n.a.t.c.h such a woman."

s.h.i.+rou didn't comment nor try to correct James's words, instead he bowed his head and left with a simple goodbye.

The coldness of the night air a.s.sailed him almost as soon as he stepped out of James's manor, but it didn't bother him as much as it should have. The night wind simply served to cool the heat from his body after consuming alcohol.

Where could she be?

The thought struck him while he was deciding on where to go. Knowing Arturia, there were only a few places in Bristol with enough significance for her to visit. One was her childhood home with Sir Ector and Kay, and the other was the Ashton manor.

Both choices were just as likely, but he quickly came to a decision.

He wasn't certain that he would find her there, but it was a gut feeling born from the hope that he had a place in her heart more than that of familial attachment.

His feet moved him forward.

Pa.s.sed the town. Pa.s.sed the forest. And towards the place where he would meet her again.

Ashton Manor was gone, the area it had once accommodated over grown with tall gra.s.s and blooming flowers. Yet in the midst of it stood a woman.

Calm, gentle, and possessing a strength and bearing that was indescribable.

Sad, but n.o.ble.

Possessing a beauty mirrored only by her wistfulness.

The woman that stood alone before him in the clearing was wreathed in a blue dress that billowed under the pressure of a gentle night breeze. Her hair left upbraided fell over her shoulders, her body faced opposite from him. She had yet to notice him, the sound of his steps m.u.f.fled by the hum of crickets in the gra.s.s.

The feelings he felt at that moment, and the actions that he wanted to take, all seemed to leave his mind.

She was standing there, her eyes staring up at the moon, and her arms motionless by her side. It would have had been a beautiful sight if not for the grief that seemed to cling to her form. She was pale, and thinner than when he had last seen her. It was clear that she hadn't been eating, or not eating as much as she should have. The glutton that he knew could eat platter after platter of food without pause nor drink, but the woman in front of him now seemed frail. A far cry from her usually reserved and n.o.ble disposition. It wasn't right.

His mouth opened, and then closed, the words he wanted to say no longer mattering when she finally sensed something and turned his way.

Teal eyes widened, the owner of those eyes herself unaware of the tears that trickled down her cheeks.

His hands balled into fists as a result, his legs carrying him forward to stand by her side. He couldn't bear to see her in such a state. It pained him more than he could ever describe especially when he remembered her normal bearings.

"Arturia," he whispered softly, a hand brus.h.i.+ng across her face and wiping away her tears.

She gasped, his voice seeming to be the last straw that proved to her that he was real and right before her. It had been days with not a single clue or sign of him. Strong-willed as Arturia was, even she had her breaking points, more so when it involved those close to her.

She patted his hand away and simply wrapped her arms around him, her face pressing against his chest. Truthfully, she felt like sobbing in her relief, but she couldn't do so with the image s.h.i.+rou must have held of her in his mind. Still, she couldn't help it when her tears began to soak his clothing. Mortified as she was with her own feelings, it didn't seem to matter what she thought at the moment. Her indecisions. Her insecurities about what was right and what was wrong. None of that mattered. All that mattered was that he was by her side again.

She didn't know when it happened or when her mentality had changed, but the thought of losing him was far more frightening than ruining her reputation. He who had watched over her since childhood and even adolescence. The man able to move her heart and the man who would willingly go to war for her. Her Knight.

It had always been s.h.i.+rou.

Her grip tightened around him, seeking his warmth.

"Where did you go," she spoke quietly in the silence.

s.h.i.+rou did not answer, but more than that, he was unwilling to.

Instead, his body was beginning to move on its own.

Something he should have had done a long time ago.

His hands placed themselves on Arturia's shoulders, the action causing her to shudder in surprise. Her gaze looked up at his, her expression s.h.i.+fting vacant as her mind seemed to blank. The face that was inches away from him seemed so small and fragile. Far from its usual composed and stern expression.

Her breath fell upon him, causing his skin to tingle, but he ignored such minor details. Instead, the sheer allure of her eyes that glanced to the ground in embarra.s.sment, and the subsequent reddening of her cheeks nearly caused him to lose all reason. However, he was still able to think clearly.

The life that they had experienced together, and the journey that they still had in their future.

She could be King, and he her follower. The future had many possibilities and similarly many things that could go wrong, but nothing was set in stone. As all manner of thoughts flashed across his mind, only one remained. Something grand.

The possibility of a future.

One different from the one Saber had walked and one different from that which he had known.

Something of both his and her creation as they both charted a new path forward.

A s.h.i.+p wading through turbid waters.

His head lowered and his lips pressed against hers, all doubts soon leaving his mind as he lost himself in the pa.s.sion of a kiss he had not known since an evening long ago.

LINE BREAK

Petals danced in the breeze from a sudden flurry, a love blossoming in full bloom.

A moment forever lost in time, for it was the creation of a new possibility.

A new journey.

The beginning of a Fate-In Time.