(This chapter is from Artoria’s first-person perspective.)
A void hung high in the sky, like a dying star.
Black mud poured down onto the earth, turning into the infernal fires of hell.
At the top of the high-rise, I gazed at this scene, letting the wind blow against my face, my heart incomparably calm.
The play had finally reached the moment of its curtain call.
The audience was about to leave, the actors were about to exit, and the spotlights were about to dim.
This play was titled the “Fourth Holy Grail War”.
I was the lead actor, a character named “Artoria Pendragon”.
Same height, same eye color, same hair color; my Spirit Origin was converted from the soul of a dead person, summoned by Kiritsugu Emiya through the Spirit Origin manifestation ritual, carrying a radiant yet simple holy sword.
No one suspected it was a fake.
—Except for myself.
I knew better than anyone that I was a fake.
I did not possess King Arthur’s skills; even my sword-holding posture was wrong.
I did not possess King Arthur’s power; from the very beginning, I lacked the ability to unleash the holy sword.
I couldn’t beat anyone.
My only reliance was the identity of King Arthur.
Thus, Fuyuki became my stage, and the Holy Grail War became my play.
I was here performing, narrating, dancing, singing, pretending to be King Arthur, playing her role.
Kiritsugu Emiya was an absurd man.
I didn’t need to do anything, like an Iron-rank player who accidentally wandered into a Platinum-rank match.
As long as I didn’t interfere with this king-tier player, victory was within reach.
In fact, that was exactly the case.
Of the six opposing Masters, half died from Kiritsugu Emiya’s sneak attacks—Kariya Matou, Kayneth, and Kirei Kotomine.
Among the remaining three, two brought about their own destruction—Tokiomi Tohsaka and Ryunosuke Uryu.
The only survivor was Waver Velvet—but he had lost his Servant, so naturally, he had no right to continue participating in the war.
With only one group remaining in the Holy Grail War, the winner was already determined.
As long as one made a wish to the Holy Grail, the Holy Grail War would end, and it would end permanently.
It was a pity that the Holy Grail was a lie from the very beginning.
That void in the sky was the Holy Grail, and that black mud on the ground was the infinite magical energy overflowing from it.
The Holy Grail could not fulfill any wish other than destruction and ruin.
Or rather, no matter how beautiful a wish was, it would be twisted by the Holy Grail into malice and evil, realized through destruction and ruin.
Therefore, what I needed to do was simple, and what Kiritsugu Emiya needed to do was also simple.
“Kiritsugu, I don’t need to repeat what needs to be done, right?”
My eyes remained fixed on the void in the sky, the corners of my mouth curled into a faint smile, as if that were my final destination.
Kiritsugu Emiya was right beside me.
A burnt smell drifted through the air—the man had lit another cigarette.
Whenever he encountered a difficult problem, he would light a cigarette, attempting to use chemical stimulation to sharpen his brain.
I didn’t think the scene before us was difficult at all.
As long as the strategy was executed, this play would come to an end.
“…Saber, must we do this?”
“Otherwise what?
Do you have a better strategy?
Or are you saying that the strategy you mentioned before—’relying on the World’s guardians to solve the trouble of the Holy Grail’—that do-nothing strategy, counts as a strategy?
Kiritsugu, it’s only been a week, I don’t believe you’ve fallen to such a point that you’ve started to avoid even the most basic battle.”
Kiritsugu Emiya did not explain, did not ask, he only remained silent.
The forest in the distance was burning, the sound of the infernal flames incessant; in less than two hours, it would spread to the city area.
By then, even if evacuations had started early, trampling, looting, traffic jams, slaughter, and all sorts of flowers of evil would bloom throughout the city.
The black mud of imaginary magical energy wouldn’t kill that many people, but many would be killed by others—this was something bound to happen.
I didn’t believe Kiritsugu Emiya didn’t understand this logic.
“In the end, it still requires sacrificing you…”
Kiritsugu Emiya sighed, looking dejected, as if he had lost more thoroughly than any other Master.
My gaze remained fixed on that void, and I had to start quibbling.
“This is not a sacrifice.
The term’sacrifice’ only applies to inanimate objects.
I am a Servant, a phantom of a Heroic Spirit, which is to say, a dead person.
My death is not a sacrifice, but the ending that I was always meant to have.”
“But, Saber…
according to legend, King Arthur was taken by Morgan to the paradise of Avalon on her deathbed.
There, King Arthur attained eternal life.
When Britain faces danger, King Arthur will leave the paradise to save his people—so, at least here, one can use the word’sacrifice’ to describe your strategy.”
“Now is not the time to be pedantic,” I said with dissatisfaction.
“Is this so hard for you, Kiritsugu Emiya?
Do I need to teach you, this ‘Ally of Justice,’ what to do now?
You only need to use three Command Spells—first, command my Spirit Origin to be filled with magical energy.
Second, command me to teleport to the core of the Holy Grail.
Third, command my Spirit Origin to overload.
The overload will create an explosion, the explosion will destroy the structure of the Holy Grail, forcing it to stop pouring out imaginary magical energy, forcing it into a dormant state.
Then, you and Waver report this to the Mages Association, have this great magecraft of the Holy Grail completely dismantled, and the Holy Grail War will be over.
There will never be a Fifth Holy Grail War.
After that, you can do whatever you want, continue being an Ally of Justice or just be Illyasviel’s father—do you have any dissatisfaction with this ending?”
Kiritsugu Emiya did not answer.
He was thinking, he was hesitating.
I didn’t understand why he was hesitating.
However, the Command Spells were on Kiritsugu Emiya’s hand, and I was just a fake Servant.
Other than waiting, there was nothing I could do.
This wait lasted five minutes.
Until I felt I was reaching the limit of my patience, Kiritsugu Emiya finally spoke.
“Saber…
actually, are you really King Arthur?”
“Perhaps in your eyes there is no difference, but to me, the difference is huge.” Kiritsugu Emiya took a sharp drag, then exhaled heavily.
“King Arthur is the King of Knights, upright and honorable throughout her life, and would not associate with a petty person like me.
But you are different.
From beginning to end, you have been cooperating with me.
You have neither the stubbornness of a knight nor the arrogance of a king.
I once suspected that you were a fake King Arthur—but not long ago, I realized.”
“Because I proposed that plan?”
“The personal preferences of storytellers and the ideas of creators can modify stories and legends beyond recognition.
In the late Ming Dynasty version of ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms,’ Liu Bei was full of heroic spirit, worthy of being a ranger of the northern lands.
But by the Qing Dynasty version of ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms,’ Liu Bei became completely stereotyped, to the point where he became a character who only knew how to cry to demonstrate benevolence.
At first, I thought you weren’t King Arthur, but now I’m sure you are—otherwise, I really can’t imagine how a young girl could bear the burden of fate and walk down such a path.”
I raised an eyebrow, a ripple of slight joy rising in my heart.
This showed that my performance was incredibly successful, even more like King Arthur than King Arthur herself.
Just like the TV drama version of ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms,’ the excellent acting and vivid image almost redefined the images of those characters.
Subsequent novels, comics, and even games could no longer break away from this framework.
In Kiritsugu Emiya’s words, my acting skills have reached this level.
Since that’s the case, I must naturally maintain an actor’s self-cultivation and never break the fourth wall.
“Whether it is or isn’t, it has no meaning.
The world only knows King Arthur Pendragon.
As for who Artoria is, no one will know, and even if they did, it would be meaningless, serving only as dinner table conversation.
The matter is settled; the Britain of the Britons has been destroyed, and the Pendragon dynasty perished in a single generation.
All of this has condensed into history, fixed in place, unchangeable, and it shouldn’t be changed.
Therefore, this plan is not a sacrifice.
Even if I truly hadn’t died, I would die soon enough anyway.
So…”
“Saber, what is your wish?”
“A wish?”
“The reason for participating in the Holy Grail War.
Without a wish, a Servant cannot respond to the Holy Grail’s summons.
For an existence like you, who made a pact with the world on your deathbed, there must certainly be a reason you must win the Holy Grail War—there must be a motive for one’s actions.”
A motive?
What other motive could there be?
I was thrown here, donned this skin, what else could I do?
There’s no help for it; who made me an actor now?
As for things like motives, I can only make them up.
“I just wanted to see what that omnipotent Holy Grail Merlin spoke of actually is, and if it could save Britain.
Now it seems, just like that ‘whoever pulls the sword from the stone shall save Britain’ saying, it is ultimately just empty words magicians use to deceive people.”
“But, Mordred’s prophecy was fulfilled.
It’s not entirely empty words.”
Only then did I shift my gaze to Kiritsugu Emiya.
He was wearing a black trench coat with a cigarette in his mouth, looking as dashing as a Lupin III-style cowboy.
The corners of my mouth curled up, and I arched an eyebrow.
“Before I was sure you were truly King Arthur, I had no interest in your life.
But now, it’s different.”
I remained silent for a while.
Pretending to be conflicted and lost in memory, I was actually thinking about how to deflect.
I hadn’t considered these questions.
I could only say whatever came to mind—simply put, I was spouting nonsense.
“That the kingdom of Albion would split and fall into civil war, I had foreseen long ago.
The years of continuous war, spreading to the continent and even to Rome, had long since left the people overwhelmed.
A tyrant like me would be overthrown sooner or later, by anyone—I just didn’t expect it to be Mordred—but after knowing her identity, I wasn’t surprised.
My blood flows in her veins.
If it were me, I probably would have done the same…
No, that’s exactly what I did.
I overthrew Vortigern, I became Vortigern, and then I was overthrown by a new king; that is only natural.”
Kiritsugu Emiya said nothing, trying to digest my gibberish.
It was indeed gibberish.
It’s not as if I don’t know who Artoria is or who Mordred is.
It’s just that the image of Artoria I am portraying is like this, and to ensure no one could find fault, I had to alter the image of Mordred.
I thought the nonsense I came up with on the fly was quite good; there were no issues, and it was easy for people to accept.
“…In other words, you don’t hate Mordred?”
“Why should I hate?” I was genuinely puzzled.
“When King Uther died at the hands of Vortigern, that transcendent one felt no hate.
When Vortigern died by my Holy Spear, she felt no hate either.
When it was my turn to die at the hands of Mordred, why should I hate?
Not only do I not feel hate, but I actually feel regret—if Morgan had told me sooner, Mordred wouldn’t have had to die with me—though it seems she didn’t want to live anyway.
But of the House Pendragon, who actually wants to live?
Even Morgan doesn’t.”
This wasn’t just gibberish anymore; it was the ravings of a madman.
Even I thought it was absurd, yet it was unexpectedly reasonable, as if things were truly that way.
As expected, Kiritsugu Emiya fell silent for a long time again.
He was likely trying to understand my line of thought.
I shifted my gaze back to the hole in the sky.
I waited for Kiritsugu Emiya, but pretended to be lost in memory.
At the same time, the corners of my mouth curled into a smile that seemed bitter, relieved, and resigned.
Unknowingly, I started speaking unnecessary words again: “Uther tried to turn the king into a non-human existence to protect the kingdom of Albion forever.
The result was Vortigern.
In the end, Vortigern wanted to end his own fate, so he summoned the saxons from across the sea, preferring to become Vortigern.
To defeat Vortigern, Uther and Merlin created me using Vortigern as the template.
I defeated Vortigern and drove the saxons into the sea to feed the fish.
Yet, I discovered that no matter what, the people of Britain could no longer survive in this era of declining mystery.
So I waged war.
The scale of the wars grew larger each time, and the goals of the wars became more distant each time.
In the end, the people of Britain couldn’t take it anymore; they conspired together, incited Mordred to rebel, and chose their own destruction…
So, Kiritsugu, tell me, is there anything I have that is worth regretting?”
If my memory serves me correctly, this is exactly the content from the original history of the kings of britain of King Arthur—or rather, the collection of legends about King Arthur that have been passed down in the Welsh and Cornish regions.
Kiritsugu Emiya remained silent.
He was still thinking, still conflicted.
I continued to wait.
For a guy like Kiritsugu Emiya, whose inner heart and path are extremely extreme, urging is useless, and forcing him would only have the opposite effect.
Only when he understands and agrees will he take action.
I don’t know how much time passed.
When the ground beneath our feet was also surrounded by black mud, he finally took action—
The scarlet, sword-shaped mark on the back of his hand emitted light, and a significant amount of magical energy surged into my body.
A coercive force controlled my body, like sleep paralysis; the connection between my body and consciousness was severed, and I was completely frozen in place.
“—Saber, at this very moment, release your Noble Phantasm!”
A pitch-black sword appeared in my hands out of thin air.
Like a robot executing a program, my body stepped forward half a pace on its own, gripped the hilt with both hands, raised the sword high, and then swung it down heavily—
—And then, nothing happened.
There was no overflowing magical energy, no pitch-black beam of light, no sound of wind breaking like the shrieking of evil spirits.
As an actor, I simply swung the fake holy sword like that, performing my acting.
I am just an actor, just an empty shell with a superficial appearance, not some third-rate novel cliché where “King Arthur lost her memory and is actually the real person.” The sword in my hand has already proven everything; my ravings can no longer fool anyone.
“In the end…
it’s still like this…”
Kiritsugu Emiya sighed heavily, as if taking a deep breath.
I tried hard to keep a straight face and retracted the fake holy sword, even though my emotions were like boiling water, panicked to the extreme.
In my impatience, I had to start urging him, trying as much as possible not to explain further.
“I explained the situation from the very beginning.
This situation is the prerequisite for my plan.
However…
it was just a waste of one Command Spell; my plan can still be implemented.
So…
Kiritsugu, do as I say.”
Kiritsugu Emiya did not respond.
He didn’t speak, just letting time slowly pass, like a statue.
The forest before us had turned into a sea of fire.
Even if the Holy Grail was destroyed by me, this fire would continue to spread.
The forest is a place where life thrives, where all kinds of life struggle to survive, singing praises to the miracle of life.
Think of the squirrels hiding in tree holes, think of the little rabbits chewing on grass, think of the kittens fleeing into the forest, and then let the image of that lazy, fat tabby cat I had when I was alive surface in my mind…
“Is this how a man should be?
Do you wish for Illyasviel to share the same fate as her mother?
Tell me, Kiritsugu Emiya, show me with your actions—is that the future you desire?”
The words were spoken at an even pace, the tone icy and devoid of emotion.
I was becoming less and less like King Arthur.
Finally, Kiritsugu Emiya took a deep breath—
The next instant, I found myself inside the greater grail.
Irisviel, dressed in formal attire, smiled at me.
But her long gown was tainted by darkness, and her smile seemed slightly unhinged.
I returned a similar smile—plain, peaceful, placid, as if I had merely forced the corners of my mouth to curve upward.
Our smiles lasted only for a moment.
I saw Irisviel in her formal attire smiling at me, and I responded with the same smile, just as I had done for the past month.
But this smile lasted only an instant before a surge of scorching energy gathered at my heart (spiritual core).
The scorching heat transformed into light, shattering all restraints.
The story ended, the curtain fell, the actors left the stage.
I returned to tranquility.