"Mm, it's been a long time since we last held a feast like this, hasn't it?"
Tawara Tōta had used his Noble Phantasm to produce a vast quantity of supplies, finally filling West Village's grain stores to the brim. On top of rescuing Hassan of Serenity and witnessing the Knights of the Round Table's disgraceful retreat, Hassan of the Hundred Faces decided to hold a grand feast.
"Though the location is different, this was the atmosphere in Camelot whenever we returned victorious in the past." Percival held a cup of rice wine and watched the bustling village with a nostalgic smile.
"Pindo, you shouldn't drink yet." Artoria took Pindo's cup, speaking with a cold expression.
"Yes, my King." Pindo, a massive scar still visible across his waist, lowered his hand in a daze.
He had long been accustomed to obeying the King's commands, but...
Pindo had woken up on the second day after Fujimaru Ritsuka and the others set out—when they were nearly at the knights' fortress.
His injuries had been truly severe, and they had not received proper treatment right away, so he was still weak. The wound around his waist had not even fully healed.
Drinking was out of the question.
"As compensation for not being allowed to drink, you can have more rice balls. Eat plenty more." Percival smiled and handed over a large platter of freshly shaped rice balls.
"Um, I've already eaten a lot. Thanks, Sir Percival." Pindo's stomach was already bloated. With an awkward smile, he pushed the offering back.
"Haha, have a little more. You're wounded right now, after all—you need lots of nourishment to heal your injuries." Percival offered the rice balls again. "Look over there. That monk called Xuanzang has already eaten quite a lot, and she's also made so many