The Final Journey

Her mind was in turmoil, her breath was in disarray, and her steps became chaotic. With this chaos, Rovey only needed to provoke her to trick her into revealing her Noble Phantasm, thus causing her to excessively deplete her magic power. With Avalon and the magic power supply from the Holy Grail, Rovey was completely unafraid of consuming physical strength and magic power, which allowed him to seize the last opportunity.

It can be said that from the very beginning of the battle, Rovey was concealing his true strength and making his plans. He did not openly reveal his trump cards and engage in a real battle with Saber to defeat her, but instead followed a gradual approach, slowly crushing her from three aspects: her mind, her magic power, and finally her body.

"..."

On the rooftop, Scáthach blinked and couldn't help but applaud her Master.

Well, to be honest, their fight wasn't particularly exciting. There was no skill involved; it was just a turn-based battle where it was either one attacking and the other defending.

But...

Scáthach was also very pleased, because she had witnessed a miracle: the miracle created by Rovey, who defeated a mythical hero in human form.

What was originally a near-certain death situation, in which she was prepared to save people, turned into a situation where Saber broke through her defenses and the two of them fought each other one-sidedly, thanks to his scheme.

Regardless of how well she performed, this miracle at least compelled her to applaud.

As for the external forces and conspiracies used in the battle, which have deviated from the original purpose of the battle...

Scáthach could only say, "Stop joking."

Given the premise that humans are fighting Servant, it's perfectly acceptable for them to borrow any power.

On the contrary, seeking equality and fairness in an already unequal battle is truly foolish.

Seeing Lovi ignoring his severed arm and sitting on Saber, declaring his Rovey, Scáthach couldn't help but smile.

As for how Rovey is feeling right now, she probably has a good idea.

It is undoubtedly a time of relief and joy.

Fortunately, he survived, and he was overjoyed that he had created a miracle with his own hands. For this, Rovey was equally happy.

For every person who is happy, there is someone who is sad.

Meanwhile, Saber, who seemed utterly hopeless and whose tears were streaming uncontrollably from her eyes...

At this moment, Scáthach could also sense that she was absolutely exhausted, both physically and mentally.

She was trampled in a battle, mercilessly kicked from the face to the stomach, and her heart was pierced by a barrage of hurtful words. Even her once trusted comrade, Merlin, the Flower Magecraft, stood against her in this battle, denying her wishes and efforts...

Scáthach realized that this battle was entirely planned by Rovey in advance, a form of execution and torture for Artoria.

What Heroic Spirit Swordmaster will decide the victor?

Can someone who plans this from beginning to end and completely outmaneuvers others be called a swordsman?

At other times, although she could accept and understand such tactics, she would still be unable to help but criticize them in her heart because of her identity as the Warrior Queen.

As for now...

That's my Master, so all I can say is "Well done!"

Scáthach leaped nimbly from the rooftop and landed beside Rovey, picking up his severed left arm from the ground. She then pressed it against his wound, and unusually switched to Spirit Origin Mode, picking up her wand, which she hadn't used in a long time, and gently touching the wound. Transparent ice and Rune appeared simultaneously, freezing the wound and healing it with Rune.

"Thank you, Scáthach."

Feeling his empty left arm fill up again, and freed from the fate of becoming a one-armed hero, a bright smile appeared on Rovey's face. He then nodded his thanks to Scáthach in front of him.

"You're welcome, Master."

Scáthach nodded slightly to him, then bent down to look at Artoria on the ground, who had deliberately turned her head away so that no one could see her tears, and teased her with a rather amused expression.

"Why are you so silent? Saber, I never expected our invincible King Arthur to drop a little pearl~"

"..."

Artoria pursed her lips, not wanting to reply to this annoying guy.

Rovey and Scáthach were both incompatible; it was as if she was incompatible with these Masters.

"Then let's end it here."

Seeing Scáthach arrive, Rovey wasn't worried that Artoria might suddenly lash out and retaliate.

Although he told Scáthach not to interfere in their fight, that was only in the context of them fighting each other. Now that the outcome was decided, if Artoria were to launch some underhanded sneak attack that violated the rules, Scáthach would show no mercy and would shoot her spear straight through the head at the closest possible distance.

This time, even if Merlin tries to stop her, she won't show any mercy.

However, although Artoria was furious, she did not deny the truth or resort to any more despicable means.

A loss is a loss; she lost to an ordinary person like Rovey, and that's an unchangeable fact for her.

On the battlefield, the moment a sword slips from one's hand, it's enough to show that victory or defeat has already been decided.

For a knight, even at the cost of his life, he must never lose the weapon in his hand.

Because once she lost her weapon, all that awaited her was to be slaughtered at will.

Upon seeing Scáthach approach, Rovey grabbed her outstretched hand, stood up from Artoria's lap, then dusted off his clothes with his still-intact arm, gave her a thumbs-up, and flashed a sunny smile.

We won!

"Yes, I saw it. You did very well, Master. But if you could improve your martial arts as well as your Magecraft, it would be even better."

Scáthach nodded, then smiled and offered her her suggestion.

"Well, Master? How about becoming my disciple? I can help you improve your martial arts skills. Although I haven't taken on any disciples for a long time, you can be my first disciple of this era."

"Take on a disciple? If I really become your disciple, should I call you Scáthach or Scathach?"

"... Scathach? That's a nice title. So, does that mean you agree?"

Scáthach's eyes lit up, and she asked him with great interest.

"Of course... I disagree."

Rovey shook his head frankly and said, "I can be Magus, an Alchemy, or even a theologian, but not a warrior. And this experience of the knightly duel with Saber has only strengthened my resolve. Compared to a warrior or a knight, I am more suited to the combat of Magus, so I will politely decline your offer."

"Tsk, never mind then... You could clearly cultivate both magic and martial arts."

Seeing that Rovey's refusal was firm, Scáthach sighed helplessly and did not insist on the matter.

Instead, she turned to look at Artoria, who had just gotten up from the ground and stood up again, and wondered what she would do.

Will she break down in tears, or continue to resist and refuse to give in?

She was also quite looking forward to Artoria's choice.

Even if she was resentful, Artoria's heart wasn't so fragile that she couldn't accept her defeat.

Even though Artoria has stood up again, and her injuries and strength have been greatly restored thanks to the Red Dragon Heart and the Dragon Factor, it is too late to turn the tide at this point.

Because Rovey had already spread out, he then raised his hand and pulled out the wand that he had stuck in the ground. Even his left arm, which had been severed by the Excalibur, was now healing at an abnormally fast speed under the combined effect of the Rune and Avalon.

"Although I can't feel any pain, it looks terrifying. If it weren't for Avalon, this arm would probably be unusable."

Looking at his mangled but rapidly healing arm, Rovey shook his head and raised his hand to cast a healing Magecraft on himself using Raphael's healing power, further accelerating the recovery process.

Not only had she lost her answer, but now she had also lost her weapon. Facing the smiling Scáthach and the rapidly healing Rovey, Artoria knew there was no point in continuing the fight. She simply stood there, silently reflecting on everything, Rovey's words echoing in her mind.

This was the first time since the start of the battle that Artoria had seriously considered the questions raised by Rovey.

What is the ending I want, and what is the ending I can accept?

What kind of demise can be described as silent? What is a peaceful death?

'Phew... looks like it worked...'

Seeing Artoria display this expression for the first time, Rovey breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he had succeeded.

Scáthach, who was preparing for the second round, raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes.

She never expected that this combination of beating and psychological attack would actually wake up Artoria, who was so stubborn and unyielding.

"Well, you've finished fighting and vented your anger. So, are you feeling better now? So you can talk to me calmly now... Artoria."

Seeing her change, Rovey smiled slightly and then twirled the Golden Sword in his hand. At the same moment, his other hand, which had just recovered, took the Excalibur from Scáthach and threw both holy swords back to Artoria.

"What does this mean? Are you pitying me...?"

Upon seeing the two familiar holy swords that Rovey had thrown back, Artoria frowned and suddenly raised her voice.

She found it hard to understand what Rovey was trying to do.

"No, it's just returning it to its rightful owner."

Rovey shook his head. "Both holy swords are yours. The difference is that one belongs to the original you, while the other belongs to the current you."

"One of the things Merlin entrusted to me was to return this Golden Sword, which he reforged, to you, hoping that you could see the figure of the Lily Knight again on this sword."

"..."

As soon as he finished speaking, and after glancing at Artoria who was deep in thought, Rovey sat down on the ground.

Despite Avalon's blessing, he was mentally exhausted after such an intense battle, and now he just wanted to sit down and rest for a while.

"Now that the fight is over and you've vented your anger enough, according to the rules, as the victor, I should have the right to make some demands of you, right?"

"..."

Artoria simply gazed silently at the two holy swords before her, without answering Rovey's question.

"Not going to say anything... Since you're not going to say anything, I'll take that as a yes. Now, let's sit down and have a proper chat."

Rovey sat on the ground, then looked at her with a smile and said.

"Let's sit down and have a proper talk, let's go back to what we were talking about earlier."

Amidst the empty ruins, seeing the Golden Sword and the Excalibur re-inserted before her, Artoria couldn't help but hesitate.

Her gaze fell upon the blade of the sword that reflected the golden light, its surface mirroring her disheveled appearance.

With her head bleeding and her body a mess, even though the Dragon Factor had helped heal most of the injuries on her face, the dried blood, disheveled hair, and yellow dirt covering her body, along with her deformed armor, still made her unrecognizable. At this moment, she was no longer the King of Knights she once was.

Gazing at her reflection on the golden sword, Artoria's eyes became somewhat dazed. Unconsciously, she seemed to vaguely see her past self on the golden blade.

At that time, she was not yet clad in royal robes and silver armor, nor did she bear any responsibility. She was just a pure and innocent little girl, as innocent as a lily, who was wholeheartedly thinking about helping others and promoting the spirit of chivalry. She was not the King Arthur Artoria Pendragon she is today, but simply Lily.

And what about right now?

She looked at herself, disheveled and covered in blood and mud, as if it were proof of her constant struggle in the mire.

Tired eyes replaced her former innocence, and her heart, overshadowed by regret and anger, ignited her pure spirit. Her body was riddled with wounds, and her heart, along with the former capital, was buried in flames.

When exactly did I become like this?

She couldn't help but start thinking, and the answer to the question quickly came to her mind.

It was probably from the moment the Sword in the Stone broke that the missteps began...

It was only after he grasped the legendary sword of victory and kept achieving victories that he began to sink deeper and deeper into this predicament...

For a moment, Artoria was somewhat dazed as she faced her past self, and felt even more apprehensive. She didn't know how to face herself or the Lily Knight of the past.

She abandoned her innocence and purity, letting the responsibilities of being a king overshadow everything else. She kept trying to play the role of an excellent king, but in the end, this was all she got.

For a moment, Artoria couldn't help but recall what Fionn mac Cumhaill had said to her at the banquet.

"King of Knights, I cannot comment on the kingly path you uphold, but I can sense that you are more like a guardian knight than a ruler."

A guardian knight...?

Recalling these words, Artoria couldn't help but think back to her original aspirations. Wasn't she initially striving to become a knight? If she weren't the King Uther, if she hadn't inherited the blood of the red dragon, she would probably still have continued to strive for it.

As expected, someone as incompetent as myself is hardly fit to be king.

To this day, she has not found the answer in her heart, nor has she been able to tell Rovey what the ending she truly desires.

What is a peaceful death?

What kind of ending would I be willing to accept?

If you let her search for it on her own, she probably will never find the answer.

Chapter Seventy-Four: The Final Journey (6,000 words)

— Embark on a spontaneous trip, like a shooting star streaking across the night sky—brief yet dazzling, leaving behind endless memories and longings.

"Ahem, whether you become a Buddha or leave this world later, I won't stop you, but wait for me now."