"—Cough! Gh... huff, huff!"
The moment the grip around his throat loosened, the pathetic youth slumped to the floor, clutching his neck as he struggled to draw breath.
Yet, I found myself unable to spare him even a passing glance. My world had narrowed entirely to the figure standing before me: Artoria.
In the face of this sudden, weighted reunion, my tongue felt leaden. I could do nothing but stand in a paralyzed silence.
Since the moment I was summoned into this Fifth Holy Grail War as a Berserker, I had simulated this encounter a thousand times in the recesses of my mind. Yet, in all those visions, not once did our meeting take such a form.
What do I do? I never prepared for a situation like this...
Recognizing that we must look upon one another properly, I willed my visor to vanish. As the helm dissolved into motes of prana, Artoria's eyes widened, her pupils trembling with the force of an internal earthquake.
How would she react? Would she rush forward to throw herself into my arms? Would she weep with joy at my return?
The answer came swiftly, though it took a path I could never have imagined.
Thud.
"...!"
"Forgive... please, forgive me... Elius..."
My eyes went wide in shock as Artoria sank to her knees, tears spilling freely as she offered a desperate apology. This... this was a development I had never foreseen.
Since the moment she had crossed blades with Elius, Artoria had been haunted by the question of why he had attacked her.
Initially, she convinced herself it was the fault of the Berserker class; that the madness had stripped him of the ability to recognize her. But Rin, her Master's companion, had claimed that Elius still possessed his reason.
Why did Eli attack me? He, who always comforted me... he, who lived only for my sake... why?
As she sat beneath the moonlight, wrestling with her doubts, a jarring realization struck her.
Wait...
Why was she assuming his benevolence was a given? Since when had she begun to treat his unwavering kindness as a law of nature?
The epiphany struck her like the blow of a war-hammer. She realized that, in her own heart, Elius's devotion and sacrifice had been taken for granted.
She claimed to love him, yet she had never truly looked at the world through his eyes. Under the pretense of being King, she had never once placed his needs above her own. Even when she looked back, the pattern was agonizingly clear: he had always put her first. He had been a devotee to her cause, an architect of her ideals, and the one person who understood the weight of her crown.
Despite being the busiest man in Camelot, he had used his precious moments of respite solely to check on her, to worry for her, to care for her.
He had sacrificed everything he possessed for her sake. And what had she given him in return?
Nothing. She had merely feasted upon his efforts and his blood. She had offered no compensation for his affection, no sanctuary for his tired soul. Worse—she had betrayed that very grace. Driven by the weight of a curse, she had driven her lance through his chest. She had pierced his heart with her own hand.
"...Ah... ahhh..."
Her hands began to shake uncontrollably. Artoria looked down at her palms, and the phantom sensation returned—the warmth of his lifeblood flowing down the shaft of the lance, staining her skin.
"Ugh... aaahhh..."
She was unworthy to stand beside him. She had been too foolish to see it, and because of that blindness, she had driven him toward his ruin.
Was it even right for me to be near him?
Her presence had brought him nothing but misfortune. In Camelot, had she not existed, he might have lived the simple life of a village lad. Instead, because of her, his life had been a series of tragedies. If she stayed away, would he finally find happiness? She could not find the answer.
The selfish desire to remain by his side, the longing to feel his presence, stayed her hand from making that decision. She knew it was a wretched, egoistic thought. Yet, she clung to it nonetheless.
Without him, she felt she would finally crumble. Without him, her entire world threatened to dissolve into ash.
Thus, the moment she saw his face, the dam of guilt within her heart burst. Tears flowed without end, and her voice caught in her throat. She had to apologize. She could not pile another sin upon the mountain she had already built. And so, the King knelt.
Thud.
Unable to bear the weight of his gaze, she bowed her head low and begged for mercy.
"Forgive... please, forgive me... Elius..."
"...Why are you apologizing, Artoria?"
I spoke with a voice heavy with confusion as I watched her kneeling before me.
My words only seemed to deepen her sorrow, her tears falling more rapidly to the floor.
"...I never... not once... considered your feelings. I treated your devotion as my right. I gorged myself on your sacrifice. You gave me everything, yet I gave you nothing but pain. I betrayed your loyalty and I... I pierced you with my own hand."
"Artoria..."
I looked at her, stunned. I had never imagined she carried such a heavy burden of self-loathing. The girl before me was too kind for her own good; she was being crushed by the consequences of a destiny she couldn't control.
"You could have been happy. You could have lived the life of an ordinary man, far from the strife of the Round Table. But you met me—no, you met a wretch like me—and I brought you misery. It was because I chose to be King... because I took those knightly oaths... that you were ruined. I should never have held the sword. A person like me should never have been King."
I stepped closer to her. Though I stood directly before her, she refused to lift her head, her body trembling with the force of her sobs.
Quietly, I reached out and pulled her into an embrace. Artoria let out a sharp, shuddering breath and finally looked up at me, her voice trembling.
"...Elius?"
"My life was blessed simply because you were in it."
Artoria flinched in my arms. I pulled her closer, holding her tightly against me.
I brought you misery because you met a wretch like me...
"Being able to meet you was the greatest gift of my life."
You were ruined because I accepted the oath of knighthood...
"I have never once regretted the oath I swore to you that day."
I... I pierced you with my own hand...
"I hold no resentment toward you. None at all."
She began to shake violently, her voice bordering on a state of disbelief.
"...H-How...? I... I brought you so much hardship. I caused you such agony. Why? How can you say—"
"Because even in those hardships, I was with you."
It would be a lie to say it wasn't difficult. Life as a Knight of the Round Table was a grueling, bloody existence. But she had been there through every single moment of it.
"I was with you through the struggle. Because you were there, the pain didn't matter. You were present in every moment of my life. And for that reason..."
I leaned down, my voice soft but firm. "Every moment was a happy one. I don't blame you for anything. So..."
Do not blame yourself.
CRASH!
A sudden, loud noise from the doorway broke the silence. I jerked my head toward the sound, spotting three familiar faces entangled in a heap.
"Ow!! I told you not to push! The mood was perfect just now!"
"I-I didn't push you!"
"I saw you both peeking, so I just thought I'd give you a little nudge—hehehe!"
There lay Rin and Shirou, sprawled on the floor, with Illya standing over them wearing a mischievous, playful grin.
As I looked at them, a cold surge of killing intent boiled up from my chest.
These little brats... they were watching?
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