To become a king and a magician

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Not long after, underground.

"Master, why did you talk to that catwoman about Jack the Ripper?"

Mordred followed behind Natsukawa and asked.

Previously, after Natsukawa Torama revealed the true identity of Jack the Ripper, Atalanta clearly showed signs of mental instability.

This is related to Atalanta's experiences during her lifetime.

She was abandoned in the forest by her parents at birth and survived thanks to the care of many kind people. Therefore, she tries her best to help children who do not receive such care, just as she herself had been helped. She hopes to repay this kindness to the children.

As a result, she has an extreme aversion to people and things that threaten children.

Jack the Ripper's background undoubtedly touched a nerve with her.

"So, Master, you're planning some kind of psychological warfare? Attacking her mind beforehand to drive her insane, and then having her perish together with the Black Assassin, thus eliminating one of our opponents—Master, aren't you quite clever!"

“You’re overthinking it,” Natsukawa Tiger laughed. “Well, it’s not that I didn’t consider having Jack the Ripper wear down Atalanta, but more than that, I just wanted to see what she would do. I’m quite curious about what she will do in the face of those children who are already beyond saving—alright, let’s put that aside for now and deal with the most important thing first.”

Of the Black faction's Servants, only Chiron remains combat-ready, and he must stay behind to care for the rest of their Masters who are all unconscious. The Red faction's Servants are almost entirely absent; Atalanta is temporarily mentally unstable due to the Jack the Ripper incident, and Achilles must also look after her.

So, in reality, nobody can control Xia Chuanhu right now.

Now, let's have a question without a prize.

What exists beneath this huge pit, which was formerly the castle of the Thousand World Tree?

The answer was right in front of them.

"Om..."

The golden sphere, radiating an immense magical aura, came into the view of Natsukawa Tora and Mordred.

——【The Holy Grail】

"Master, you..."

"I doubt anyone would have thought of this. The Black Faction should have noticed that we would come directly to the location of the Holy Grail at this time, but they can't stop us in the current situation. The other members of the Red Faction should also notice soon, but they can't come over right now."

Xia Chuanhu smiled.

"So, would you like to give it a try, Mordred?"

“Go back to the day of the selection of kings and see if you can pull the sword out of the stone.”

60. The Day of the King's Selection

The familiar fields came into view.

The cool breeze of dusk gently caressed my face, the setting sun began to cast its rays upon me, and the scent of grass filled my nostrils.

"here it is....."

Mordred looked around.

It wasn't the underground space of Yggdrasilnia, but a field. In the distance, you could see buildings with a very familiar style, and a large crowd had gathered around, dressed in clothes that seemed to be from the era she lived in. You could also hear familiar accents.

"Am I... back?"

Mordred remembered.

She and Natsukawa Tora arrived at the location of the Holy Grail and, before anyone else realized it, made a wish upon it.

Return to the day the king was chosen, and challenge the sword in the stone.

So that's how it is.

He looked at the sword embedded in a boulder before him, and at the inscription carved into it: "He who pulls the sword from this stone shall be King of England."

"Is this... the sword in the stone that Father pulled out?"

The Sword in the Stone—the golden sword of certain victory. Compared to the holy sword Mordred was familiar with, this sword before him was more like a ceremonial sword than a weapon for battle. Its blade was so slender that it seemed as if it would break at the slightest touch, and its ornate decorations made it seem as if it should never be stained with blood.

By drawing this sword, I can prove my father's idea wrong and prove that I am qualified to be the King of Britain.

With that thought in mind, Mordred approached the Sword in the Stone and, in front of everyone around him, reached out and grasped the hilt.

"There's no way I can't pull the sword out of the stone"—that's what Mordred has always believed.

But now, in the instant he grasped the hilt of the sword and tried to pull it out.

"Can't pull it out?"

It was as if it had taken root in the stone, or as if it were connected to the earth through the stone. No matter how hard Mordred tried, the sword in the stone remained firmly embedded in the stone and did not move an inch!

"Are you kidding me!"

How could she possibly not be able to pull the sword from the stone? She undoubtedly possessed the talent to become queen; even King Arthur was defeated by her! Shouldn't pulling the sword from the stone be a simple matter?

With both hands gripping the hilt, Mordred used all his strength to try and pull the sword out of the stone.

However, just like before, even though Mordred used all his strength, even to the point that his hand started to hurt, there was no sign that the sword in the stone would be pulled out.

The golden sword standing amidst the giant rock seemed to mock her, reflecting the rays of the setting sun onto her.

"May I do this?"

Just then, a familiar voice rang out from behind.

Mordred's body trembled as if struck by lightning, and she looked sharply behind her—a face that looked exactly like her own came into view.

(Father!)

Mordred instinctively wanted to cry out.

But she quickly sensed something was wrong. The father she remembered had always been impartial and selfless, with a cold, godlike expression and no emotion in his eyes. But the father she saw now looked so naive and innocent.

(Speaking of which, that bastard Kaine did say that Father wasn't like that at the beginning.)

Kay, a Knight of the Round Table, was King Arthur's longest-serving knight and childhood friend. He would occasionally speak privately with other knights about Arthur's childhood. What he spoke of most often was undoubtedly the time when Arthur had just drawn the Sword of the King, and he and Merlin began their travels through Britain.

Frank, proactive, and giving it your all in everything. Aware of your limitations in handling things independently, but lacking a bit of self-confidence, which may seem immature. Expressing joy and happiness openly, and frankly expressing sadness...

In short, she is a pure girl whose heart is full of dreams and hopes, and who is optimistic and positive no matter when or where.

"Excuse me......"

Seeing that Mordred wouldn't move aside for a long time, Artoria couldn't help but get a little anxious. And seeing the anxious look on her face, for some reason, Mordred quickly moved aside as if she were fleeing.

I felt guilty if I continued to stand there.

"It would be better to think carefully before picking up that thing."

Just as Artoria stepped forward and grasped the sword hilt, a voice rang in both Mordred's and Artoria's ears at the same time. Accompanied by the fragrance of flowers, a magician dressed in white appeared behind the two of them.

"I won't hurt you, so don't do that."

"Once you pick up that sword, you will no longer be human until the very end. Not only that, once you pick it up, you will be hated by all of humanity and face a miserable death."

Merlin!

Mordred almost instinctively wanted to go over and punch him. The Knights of the Round Table, including herself, had been tricked by this bastard countless times!

But just before she could make a move, Artoria's words stopped her.

"No, many people are laughing. I think that must be true."

While Artoria spoke with a smile, her face showed little joy, but rather a hint of unease.

She didn't know if her decision was right, or if she was the most suitable person to be king. Perhaps there was someone more suitable than her, and if that person were to become king, they could surely build a more peaceful country.

However, such a person does not exist, nor will they appear even in ten years. Therefore, someone must assume this obligation during that period.

Looking at Artoria's slender figure from behind, Mordred suddenly felt that he had been somewhat naive.

She seemed never to have truly grasped the weight of the phrase "to become King of Britain." She simply admired the king, and under her mother's influence, she admired her father, and because of this admiration, she wanted to become like her.

As for what she would do after becoming queen, and what burdens she would bear, she didn't seem to have thought about it much.

"Father..."

Mordred called out softly.

At her cry, Artoria pulled the sword from the stone.

A strong wind suddenly swept by, as if celebrating the birth of the King of Britain. Even the fading twilight suddenly intensified, casting a golden glow over Artoria as she raised her sword.

"You have chosen a difficult path, but miracles come at a price, King Arthur. To protect Britain, you will have to exchange what is most important to you."

Facing Artoria, who had become something other than human, Merlin spoke in a somewhat sorrowful tone.

This was also the last sound Mordred heard.

The light of the setting sun reflected from the Sword of Kings suddenly became dazzling, instantly obscuring her eyes and overwhelming her consciousness.

61. Artoria: My head went cold!

"Oh, you're awake."

The moment I opened my eyes, my Master's voice came through.

Mordred sat up from the ground, shaking her head. "Master, what happened to me...?"

"After making your wish, you immediately passed out," Natsukawa Torato said. "What happened?"

“I think I was dreaming,” Mordred said, recalling what had just happened. “I think I dreamed that I went back to the day of the King’s election.”

"Did you go back in your dream?"

Natsukawa Torato looked at the Greater Grail: "Hmm, this is probably how the Holy Grail grants wishes. Even if the Greater Grail can grant any wish, the extent to which it can grant wishes should be limited. It's indeed unlikely that time travel on the scale of sending you back to the day of the selection of the king 1,500 years ago would be possible."

"So the Holy Grail used this method. I think it was by reading the memories of the world itself that it constructed a dream for you that was infinitely close to reality. So, did you succeed in the dream?"

"No."

Unexpectedly, Mordred answered decisively. Despite not drawing the Sword of Kings and being proven unworthy of being king, Mordred showed little resentment or anger; instead, she seemed to have understood something.

“Master, I saw Father back then. Father before he drew his sword, Father before he became king.” Mordred stood up and leaned on the railing, looking at the Greater Grail. “To be honest, it’s a little hard for me to accept.”

"Unacceptable...what do you mean?"

"Father's attitude. He had clearly drawn the Sword of Kingship and could become the king everyone dreamed of, but at that moment, Father seemed somewhat afraid. Shouldn't she be happy?"