webnovelvip Chapter 99 The First Meeting of the Two Kings
Chapter 99 The First Meeting of the Two Kings
Caster uttered chilling, obsessive whispers.
Artoria, who was standing in front of Irisviel, frowned.
She looked with a puzzled expression at the strange servant at the bottom of the pit, who reeked of blood and gave her such a morbid look.
Suddenly, the air at the Weiyuanchuan Wharf froze.
A magical energy fluctuation far exceeding that of an ordinary servant is rapidly approaching from afar.
"This aura..." Diarmuid subconsciously took a half step back, the red spear in his hand trembling slightly from his instinctive vigilance.
The next second, a golden lightning bolt tore through the night and landed firmly on the edge of the crater.
"boom!"
The shockwave spread out like a tidal wave.
Through the dust and mist, the golden-haired knight's figure gradually became clear, but Arthur did not immediately pay attention to the wary gazes around him.
His emerald green eyes were icy cold as he stared intently at the writhing, muttering figure at the bottom of the pit.
"Oh... Saint... my Joan of Arc!"
Caster at the bottom of the pit let out a blood-curdling scream.
Ignoring the excruciating pain of his severed arm and the injuries on his back, he crawled out of the deep pit like a disgusting worm, stretching out his single arm towards Artoria.
"Why...why are you looking at me with such cold eyes? I am Gilles de Rais! I am Gilles de Rais, who fell into hell for following your banner!"
Artoria, wary of the suddenly appearing figure, frowned and took a step back:
"You heretic, I am not the saint you claim to be. Your words and actions have tarnished the honor of my knighthood!"
"No...no! This must be a test from the Lord! Do you resent me? Resent that I didn't save you in Orleans?"
Caster frantically scratched at the ground, blood staining the stones, his eyes filled with a nauseating fanaticism and madness.
"Were you still not fully conscious until the very last moment?"
Arthur's deep voice echoed across the dock, and the wind pressure in his right hand instantly became violent, the holy sword boiling with its master's anger.
"Wind King's Hammer!"
There were no superfluous moves; it was the release of pure magic power, accumulated with a heart full of rage.
A crescent-shaped gust of wind pressure, like a sharp blade cutting through space, blasted straight into the deep pit.
"Aaaaaahh ...
Caster's agonizing screams abruptly ceased. Faced with a storm powerful enough to shatter steel, his already tattered body dissipated into spiritual particles.
The nauseating smell of blood in the air was also swept away by the storm.
All that remained was a huge crater, tens of feet deep.
Arthur slowly sheathed his sword, and the murderous aura around him finally subsided somewhat after the demon's demise.
Arthur turned around and looked behind him at the blond figure.
In that instant, the air, which had been calm, began to ripple again.
His heart skipped a beat, as if the "Dragon's Furnace Core" within him had sensed some kind of being that could not be ignored.
At this moment, it is frantically absorbing and releasing magic, producing a sound similar to cheers and resonance.
The moment Arthur saw Artoria's face clearly, he knew.
"As expected... this shared aura is 'me' from another world."
Artoria, who was standing in front of Irisviel, reacted even more violently.
She felt the magic within her body cheering and wailing, and even the invisible holy sword in her hand was trembling slightly.
This resonance at the soul level even transcends the bonds of blood.
She stared intently at the blond man before her, at the holy sword in his hand.
Before this, she had only seen what the other person looked like in the photos Kiritsugu had collected.
At that time, she only thought of the other party as a powerful magician or a subspecies of mythical beast recruited by the Tohsaka family, but now...
When this person stood alive and well ten steps away from her...
That shared, mirror-like illusion, as if the soul were looking in a mirror, sent a chill down the spine of the British king like never before.
"This aura... this rhythm of magical energy circulation... and that holy sword... how is this possible?"
"Besides me, is there really such a concentration of dragon essence in this world?"
Their gazes met in the air, both emerald green, both resolute, both... aura.
"You..." Artoria's sword tip drooped slightly, her emerald eyes filled with shock and confusion.
"Who are you?"
Arthur looked at the petite yet spirited young woman before him.
Feeling the resonance of the almost identical dragon factor within the other's body, a complex smile appeared on his lips.
"Arthur Pendragon".
The young man's voice was clear and open, sounding particularly deafening on this silent battlefield.
"Huh?...Arthur Pendragon?!"
"Isn't the intelligence report calling him Atolis?"
Irisviel stood behind Artoria, covering her mouth in surprise, her ruby-like eyes scanning the two of them frantically.
"Her eyebrows, her demeanor, even the way she draws her sword... Could it be that Saber actually has an older brother?"
This absurd thought flashed through Irisviel's mind.
Diarmuid gripped his spear in astonishment. As a Servant, he knew all too well how important strategic intelligence the "True Name" was.
This man actually revealed his real name so easily at the very beginning of the Holy Grail War, in full view of everyone? ...King Arthur?
Kiritsugu Emiya's fingertip gripped the trigger tightly, his heart churning with turmoil.
"A second King Arthur? Or just a coincidence in names? Where did this man come from, this unexpected variable...?"
Kiritsugu's calculation logic broke down at this moment.
The basement of the Tohsaka residence.
Tokiomi Tohsaka suddenly stood up, the wine glass in his hand shattering with a crisp sound due to the excessive force.
"Arthur?! What's he doing at the docks? And he even revealed his real name..."
Tokiomi's face turned pale and then red.
As a traditional magician who pursues "elegance" and "secrecy," Arthur's act of revealing his trump card is nothing short of a disregard for tactics.
Amidst the astonishment, the two in the center of the battlefield seemed to have entered a separate space.
Because of Arthur's frank introduction, the tense atmosphere strangely subsided.
Lancer wisely chose to remain inactive until he received orders from Kenneth.
"Arthur... Pendragon?" Artoria repeated the name, her eyes shifting from wariness to a deep sense of absurdity.
"You say you're Arthur Pendragon, then who am I?"
"..."
"This encounter is indeed somewhat unusual. Although we are of different genders, I am indeed the wielder of that holy sword."
Arthur slowly walked forward, raised the Star Sword in his hand, and stopped five steps away from his opponent.
Artoria stared at the sword raised in the other's hand.
That sword.
The outline of the sword, the starlight emanating from it, the weight it projected when held in the hand.
impossible.
This is impossible.
There should only be one holy sword in the world, and that holy sword is now in her hands.
The holy sword rejoiced.
She glanced down at her right hand, where an invisible sword vibrated gently in her palm.
Slowly, she released the wind pressure of the invisible sword completely, allowing the transparent blade to briefly show its outline in the air.
It has the exact same shape as the Star Sword in Arthur's hand.
The facts before her eyes tore a crack in her understanding.
"A Heroic Spirit...?" Artoria tried to confirm his status.
"No." Arthur shook his head.
"I am still alive. I have just turned eighteen. It is only because of some special fate that I have 'crossed' from another world to here."
"Alive... at eighteen?" Artoria was struck dumb.
At eighteen, three years after she pulled the sword from the stone, she was in the most confused and difficult early stages of the war.
But the young man before her possessed a vibrant, warm life force and energy that she had never had.
"And... Britain?" she asked almost uncontrollably, uttering the name that had tormented her her entire life. "Your country... the hills of Camland..."
"Britain still exists." Arthur looked at her.
"My land is in a period of prosperity. Although there are conflicts, the Knights of the Round Table are protecting that land with the help of my sister Morgan."
"Morgan... to assist you?" Artoria's breathing became completely disordered.
In her world, Morgan was the culprit who destroyed Britain, her lifelong nemesis and curse.
According to this man's account, the witch would actually assist him?
Artoria felt her worldview crumbling.
The same name leads to completely different endings: one is devastation and destruction, the other is vibrant hope.
Arthur gazed tenderly at Artoria:
"In other worlds, have I ever fought for my country in this manner? So petite, yet carrying such a heavy ideal, you must be exhausted."
"Don't speak with such pity!" Artoria puffed out her chest in annoyance, displaying the dignity of a queen.
"Since you call yourself Arthur, you should know that this path has never needed anyone's sympathy!"
"Oh, of course I know."
"It seems we are 'equals' yet 'opposites'." Arthur looked at Artoria, who seemed dejected after saying those words with annoyance.
"If you don't mind, could you tell me how I should address you?"
"...Then, I'll call you Arthur, and you can call me Artoria."
Artoria managed to maintain her composure, but a hint of unconcealed loneliness crept into her eyes.
"Arthur, now that you've come here, are you also here for the Holy Grail?"
Artoria's gaze hardened once more. "To rectify that... doomed Britain?"
This was her only wish upon being born into this world.
Using the all-powerful wish-granting machine, erase your own history of drawing the sword and save Britain.
Arthur fell silent, looking at the "himself" before him whose eyes were filled with tragedy and heaviness, and could only sigh.
"Artoria." Arthur's voice became low and serious.
"The Holy Grail... is not the merciful thing you imagine."
To try to erase the past in order to save the future is itself a denial of the people you have protected.
"You have hope, of course you can say that!" Artoria lost control of her emotions for the first time and shouted.
"If you've experienced my hell, if you've witnessed Britain reduced to ashes..."
"I certainly haven't experienced your hell," Arthur interrupted her.
"But I know that if my people knew that their king was struggling to deny their existence even after his death..."
They will be more sorrowful than if the country were destroyed.