Among the differentiated entities of the Thread of the Root, quite a few had easygoing personalities—or even downright black-hearted ones.
There was Oushen's forthright nature, Annanu's sort, and Norla too, who occasionally showed a mischievous side. Of course, Norla's mischief was more about trying to make you laugh.
This old black geezer in front of them was different from both Oushen and Annanu. Lawrence found him somewhat... hard to describe.
"In short, we just need to find a way to win."
"For that child Ritsuka, this is the only path available right now."
"Get some proper rest."
The old black geezer patted his motorcycle, then walked back into the underground space.
"Can only win, huh..."
Lawrence sat on Artoria's motorcycle, her expression carrying a faint trace of heartache.
Sometimes, she truly felt that it was unfair.
Especially whenever she watched Fujimaru Ritsuka face some newly arrived crisis and still choose to confront it with unwavering strength, it felt even more unfair.
Savior. It sounded like a nice title, but its actual weight was never something a teenage girl should have had to bear.
Lawrence and Mash had followed Fujimaru Ritsuka through seven Singularities, from Orleans to Mesopotamia, and then to the Temple of Time. They had witnessed how Fujimaru Ritsuka had forced his way through all seven Singularities step by step on his own two feet—Lawrence had even been absent for one of them.
No matter which Singularity it had been, the enemies within were difficult to defeat, even nearly impossible to overcome.
Vortigern Fafnir of Orleans, Attila of Rome, the four intertwined Demon God Pillars upon the sea, Adelson of London, the Mad King of North America, the Lion King of the Middle East, the two Beasts Tiamat and Abzu of Mesopotamia.
And Goetia, the false Mage King within