"—You look as though your soul has departed your body."
"....My shameful past has been laid bare for all to see."
In the end, my history was completely exposed by Illya, who had seen my memories, and Artoria, the very subject of those memories.
Downstairs, they were likely still indulging in 'girls' talk' at my expense. Though I had managed to escape to the roof after Artoria finally released me, the sheer embarrassment made the back of my neck burn.
....Right. Such is the lot I was born with. What else can I do?
Resigning myself to fate, I stared blankly at the sky. Archer, observing my state, curled a corner of his lip upward. Sensing something amiss, I turned my hollow eyes toward him.
"—Ah, I heard it quite clearly myself. It echoed all the way up here. 'It is a simple matter. Merely an immature boy, aspiring to be a knight, seeking a girl to deliver his oath and offer his strength.' .....Was that it?"
Grit!
The sound of my teeth grinding rang out as Archer repeated my 'dark history' right to my face. This bastard....
Incensed, I threw a verbal jab right back at him.
"—You are hardly one to speak, Archer with a heart of glass."
"—?! Wh-What! How do you know of that?!"
Shocked by my words, Archer grabbed me by the collar and shook me, shouting in disbelief. Seeing him so thoroughly rattled, I mirrored his previous smirk and spoke.
"....Hmph. Such is the nature of the Holy Grail War.... or perhaps there is more to it?"
"—Curse you! Have you perhaps encountered me in another Grail War?! ....Wait, then my identity—!?"
"....Hmph. You are free to reach your own conclusions!"
Crack.
"Damn it!"
In truth, it was all thanks to my knowledge of the original 'records,' and this was my first Grail War—claiming we had met before was an utter lie. But no matter.
I felt a surge of satisfaction seeing a crack form in that brittle 'glass heart' of his. Besides, from his perspective, there was no way to verify the truth.
He looked as if he wanted to strike me, but knowing he would lose at this distance, he merely stood there trembling in fury. I let out a light laugh at his expense.
"....So, does your wish remains unchanged?"
"....."
At my words, Archer—no, the Heroic Spirit EMIYA—scowled at me. Sensing the murderous intent rolling off him, I raised both hands in a mock gesture of surrender.
"I have no intention of telling a soul, so do not look at me so fiercely, Archer. I swear that as an outsider, I shall not interfere in this matter."
"....Is that so."
Though clearly still displeased, Emiya relaxed his brow slightly.
"—Indeed. My wish remains the same.......Berserker."
As I prepared to head back down, Archer called out once more.
"What is it, Archer?"
"I would ask one thing."
At Emiya's request, I gave a nod. Seeing this, he opened his mouth to speak.
".....The 'me' that you encountered—did he find his answer?"
"....Yes. He found it."
"—I see."
Emiya let out a bitter laugh at my response. I looked back at him.
"....If you wish to find your own answer, then look back upon your past. Turn it over, again and again.... until you reach the very end, the origin of your ideals. Once you reach that—"
Then, you will have your answer.
With those final words, I turned away from him completely and leapt from the roof.
This was all I could do for him. I could only point the way to the path; I could not provide the answer itself. No, even if I could, an answer given by another would be faded and useless.
An answer only holds true meaning when found by oneself. Therefore, he—broken and hardened as he was—could never accept a truth handed to him by a stranger.
It was now his burden to find it. Perhaps he never would.... but I could only hope. Hope that he would find his salvation.
"—Hah. I've gone soft, meddling in things like this."
Better to swing a sword instead. Now that I think of it, didn't the Emiya estate have a dojo for training?
"—Berserker!"
"....Hm?"
Just as I was heading toward the training hall to practice my forms, a familiar yet desperate voice called out from behind. I turned around.
There stood Illya, having rushed toward me alongside Medea. I looked at Illya with questioning eyes.
"What is the matter, Illya?"
"*Huff..... Huff*........re gone."
"I cannot hear you clearly. You should catch your breath first."
"Huff...."
I tried to calm Illya, who was exhausted from her frantic sprint. She gasped for air, and as her breathing gradually steadied, I spoke again.
"Speak now. What has happened?"
"....They're dead. Sella and Liz."
"....What?"
**
"—Magi truly never learn. I have told you before: one must not imbue a tool with a human heart.
In any case, humanity could never hope to reward your innocence."
"....Cough*."
Leysritt spat out blood as she glared up at the arrogant, golden-haired man looking down upon her.
He had invaded suddenly, and despite the fact that Caster had converted this place into a temple of the Age of Gods, they could not stop him.
She and Sella had moved to intercept him, but they were utterly defeated. Sella was already dead, and she herself was barely clinging to life.
But she could not fall here. The man standing before her was a threat to Lady Illya.
Thus, she refused to collapse. Staggering, Leysritt used her halberd, Riesenarm, as a crutch to force herself back onto her feet.
"Oho. Even in such a state, you seek to block My path? For a mere doll, you are remarkably impious."
"You. Enemy... of Lady Illya.... Must eliminate."
The man laughed as the halberd was leveled at him. Simultaneously, golden ripples manifested in the air behind him.
"Is that so? However, to obstruct the path of a King is a capital crime. Aone for that sin with your death, mongrel."
With those words, a myriad of weapons were discharged from the golden ripples, hurtling toward Leysritt.
Watching the onslaught of weaponry flying toward her, Leysritt thought of her master.
'..... I am sorry I cannot remain by your side, Lady Illya. Please—'
Be happy.
With that final thought, Leysritt's consciousness faded into darkness.
-------------------
Bedivere.
Gae Bolg in Bedivere's heart......