The Decisive Strike to Determine Victory

Konan's words were actually quite cruel. She meant that, no matter what, Artoria had to be stripped of her qualification to win the event.

But that was only natural.

They were competitors.

Anger surged across Artoria's face. Clutching her sword, she was almost about to declare that she would fight to the death.

But when she saw Irisviel's gaze, the words caught in her throat as if stuck there.

She was a king, a warrior, and naturally did not fear death when she stepped onto the battlefield. But Irisviel was different. It was not that she lacked the resolve to die in battle; rather, the responsibilities weighing on her shoulders were simply too heavy.

Although she knew that if she spoke, Irisviel would certainly accompany her.

It was precisely because she knew that she could not bring herself to say it.

Never before had Artoria been as aware of her own changes as she was now.

If this had been the old her, she would certainly not have hesitated at this moment. Even if doing so meant Irisviel's death, her badge being taken, her husband struggling to be revived, and her daughter being left homeless, she would not have hesitated at all.

Because that was the king Artoria had once believed in: a just king who would always triumph and never make mistakes.

But now...

Artoria suddenly remembered a sentence she had seen somewhere: for a person to grow, the first thing they had to learn was to admit defeat.

She also thought of the evaluation one of her knights had given her—The king does not understand the human heart.

Indeed, paying a tremendous price for a victory that was not essential, even sacrificing everything belonging to those who trusted her, was not something a king should do. The reason