Under Artoria's Noble Phantasm, Siegfried was utterly annihilated.
After successfully slaying him, Artoria noticed something unusual—her power had increased slightly.
"So, it wasn't just a coincidence. I can grow stronger by killing gods… But it's strange. I'm not a Campione."
Artoria furrowed her brows in confusion.
"Perhaps… it's because all three gods I've killed were [Steel] gods, and as the strongest [Steel], I can absorb their power."
If she wanted to test this theory, she would need to eliminate a god that wasn't associated with [Steel].
However, defeating Siegfried had come at a cost—Artoria had drawn a significant amount of life energy from the earth to strengthen herself.
The problem was, she could only return that energy to Britain's ley lines, not to the land she had drained.
Given that the ley lines across the planet were interconnected, returning the energy to Britain might still help restore this land. At least… she hoped so.
What a headache…
Artoria couldn't help but worry. What if one day she drained the life energy of other lands and fed it all to Britain? Would she inadvertently revive the Age of Gods in Britain while destroying the rest of the world?
Wouldn't that essentially create Britain's Lostbelt? And would Chaldea come to cut down the Tree of Emptiness?
Wait, I'm part of Chaldea, so… problem solved.
Shaking her head, Artoria decided to leave the battlefield. She wanted to check on Liliana.
The death of Marquis Voban, the oldest Campione, was bound to create shockwaves in this world… but none of that concerned her.
"Before I leave, there's still some unfinished business to take care of."
Her [Excalibur Morgan], cloaked in black flames once more, roared to life.
The torrent of black light surged forward, obliterating everything in its path.
Artoria gazed in the direction of her attack, her golden eyes devoid of emotion.
"Fast. That must be an authority of divine speed… What a nuisance."
There were few beings Artoria could recall with such an ability. Aside from the protagonist of the original Campione! series, only one other came to mind.
Lowering her gaze, she turned toward another direction, locking on to a different presence.
"But there's still one left…"
On a distant mountaintop, far from the battlefield, a young girl knelt.
Her long, golden hair gleamed like sunlight, and her delicate, doll-like features, paired with her frail physique, evoked a deep sense of pity and protection in anyone who saw her.
She had been observing the battle from afar, witnessing the clash of myths.
Suddenly, her expression shifted. Panic and unease filled her amber eyes.
"This is bad! I've been discovered!"
The golden-haired girl attempted to flee, but before she could make a move, a black-flamed "meteor" descended at terrifying speed, crashing down beside her.
Boom!
Out of the impact's smoke emerged a knight's sword, its tip resting against the girl's neck—a clear warning: Move, and you die.
Through the dispersing dust, a figure cloaked in fearsome black armor appeared. A pair of predatory golden slit pupils locked onto the girl, their gaze cold and unyielding.
Though they had never met, Artoria felt a strange sense of familiarity toward her.
And judging by the shaken expression in those amber eyes, the girl felt the same.
Noticing this, a cruel smirk spread across Artoria's lips.
"Guinevere, is it? What a laughable sight. What exactly are you trying to accomplish?"
At the mention of her name, a strange and inexplicable emotion stirred in Guinevere's heart the moment she saw Artoria.
Something about the woman standing before her drew her in, beckoning her to abandon everything and run to her side.
This wasn't normal.
This is not normal!
What's happening to me?!
Biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, Guinevere used the sharp pain to regain some composure.
"Who… are you?"
"Don't tell me you don't recognize me."
Artoria's tone was amused, almost mocking.
"This body is Artoria Pendragon—the heretic King Arthur."
"That's impossible!"
The rebuttal was immediate and furious, practically a roar.
Guinevere glared at Artoria with burning eyes, her voice shaking with hysteria.
"You're lying! That can't be true!"
Artoria's smirk only deepened.
"You know better than I do if I'm lying… my queen."
"..."
Guinevere froze.
She couldn't deny it.
The woman standing before her truly was King Arthur.
In mythology, Guinevere was the queen of King Arthur, but her legacy was one of betrayal. She had abandoned Arthur and eloped with Lancelot. Their escape led to the deaths of several knights of the Round Table, ultimately causing the Round Table's dissolution.
Now, facing Artoria, Guinevere's body, her divine nature, and even her soul screamed the truth—this woman was the genuine King Arthur.
But…
"Arthur could never be a woman!"
If that were true… then what would these emotions in her heart mean?!
Overwhelmed by madness, Guinevere forgot the sword pressed to her throat. She nearly flung herself against the blade in her desperate confusion.
Suddenly, a hand rested on her shoulder, pulling her back.
"Calm yourself, my dear niece."
Behind Guinevere stood a figure clad in white armor, their gender indiscernible beneath the pristine plates.
"Uncle…"
"My dear niece, do not abandon reason. Your wisdom is your greatest weapon. Do not discard it so recklessly."
The white knight's words steadied Guinevere. After a few deep breaths, the wildness in her eyes subsided.
"Thank you, Uncle. I almost did something I couldn't undo."
Meanwhile, Artoria scrutinized the white knight, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"Sir Lancelot… have you come to raise your sword against me for Guinevere's sake?"
"...Such insolence is beyond me. I would never commit such folly."
Lancelot bowed his head toward Artoria, his tone reverent.
Guinevere spun around to face him, her voice indignant.
"Uncle! She's not—"
"I know," Lancelot interrupted, his voice heavy. "She is not the king we knew…"
He hesitated, then continued with a somber tone.
"But she is the true King Arthur, different from the other heretic Arthur who recently descended. No matter how much we may loathe the idea, the truth remains unchanged."
"Guh…"
Guinevere let out a sound of frustration, her disbelief palpable.
Artoria, on the other hand, was intrigued by Lancelot's statement.
"Another heretic Arthur appeared before me?"
In this chaotic world of myths, it wasn't uncommon for multiple iterations of the same god or hero to coexist. Many deities had multiple origins or aspects.
Take, for instance, the Persian war god Verethragna. Known by his Greek name Verethragna, his Persian name Bahram, and his Armenian name Vahagn, he was also equated with Heracles of Greek mythology and Indra of Indian mythology. Multiple faces, yet one divine essence.
---
T/N: TWO ARTHURS??
...
Huh. You really stuck it out all the way to the end.
Didn't think you had the patience. Guess I was wrong.
WiseTL's the one who actually made all this come together. I'm just here putting a bow on it… or, well, shoving it in a backpack and calling it a day. Same thing.
If you had fun, you know what to do:
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Heads up—Patreon's 50% off for all tiers during May. So if you were on the fence? Now's the time.
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Alright. That's enough standing around. Go on—before you make it weird.
—Leaf