"I could sacrifice myself for Arthur too."
"But I don't want to," Arthur said. "I don't want anyone to sacrifice themselves anymore."
As he spoke, he took Father King's hand. Feeling the tenderness hidden beneath Arthur's outward strength, Artoria's lips curled into a gentle smile.
"Mm."
She leaned forward and rested against Arthur's back. The scene looked incredibly warm.
"I know, I know, Arthur. You're the best choice. You're the best savior."
She spoke to Arthur gently.
Arthur knew why she said that—the reason was his origin.
On the way back to Camelot, Father King had finally confessed this secret to Arthur.
Just as Arthur had suspected, he had not been born normally.
Every answer he had once considered to the question of "who is my mother?" had been wrong.
It was not Guinevere, nor Morgan le Fay, nor some noble lady—it was someone who had never existed from the very beginning.
He had also been "created," an "artificial" savior.
Back then, after his grandfather, King Uther, created Artoria, he had felt deeply uneasy.
On one hand, there was the baby's gender. On the other, there was his doubt. Was there really no problem with a savior created this way? Could she truly save Britannia?
That unease plagued him, ultimately leading him to make a decision—
To create someone stronger, a greater child.
Artorius II.
Using a better, more powerful Heart of the Red Dragon, as well as the Dragon Factor, new elements were added to Artoria's original template—
Ambition.
Desire.
Ability.
Military strategy.
Political strategy.
And, of course, the indispensable "justice."
After all these "concepts" came a soul Merlin had obtained from fifteen hundred years in the future through a miracle-like method that was almost "magic."
Perfectly fusing all of that together created a savior more perfect than Artoria.