Free Web NovelChapter 129: Chapter 128. The Queen of Britain 1/?
Chapter 128. The Queen of Britain 1/?
This time, even though I hadn’t lost consciousness after an exhausting battle, waking up was anything but pleasant. My head felt like it was splitting apart from the forcibly crammed knowledge about the Third True Magic, as well as the spatial coordinates of the world which, contrary to my expectations, weren’t just a small line of text, but a brain-melting mass of information spanning several dimensions.
"My poor head..." I couldn’t help but groan before finally looking around. I was in the same cave where the heart of the Holy Grail ritual had been. The exit was still sealed by my geo-barrier, and there wasn’t a single trace of the black sludge left.
"Right, I still need to deal with Artoria before she disappears," I suddenly came to my senses and, easily dispersing my barrier, hurried outside, where two very similar-looking blondes were waiting for me.
"Is it over?" the older one asked.
"Yes. Angra Mainyu has been banished. And the current Holy Grail War has come to an end," I nodded. "And now. What is your answer?"
When I asked my question, Mordred looked at her father with clear expectation in her eyes. And in that moment this tomboyish girl looked so cute that disappointing her felt like an actual crime. Which made the decision even harder for Artoria.
For almost a minute she kept opening her mouth as if about to speak, but every time her gaze involuntarily fell on the waiting girl, she would close it again. Her expression changed more in that short span than in all the time—brief as it was—that I had known her, until finally, to Mordred’s delight, she said:
"...I want to join you."
"Ha-ha. You’ll see, Father, I’ll become an amazing king!" the knightly girl exclaimed happily, sticking out her modest chest with pride.
"We’ll see," Artoria couldn’t help but smile at such enthusiasm.
"Excellent," I nodded at the King of Knights’ decision. After all, as a Nasuverse fan in my previous life, of course I liked Artoria as well. And I was pleased that she would be travelling with us—but first...
"Artoria, come here. We need to sort out your condition." freewёbnoνel.com
"Very well," she nodded and approached.
Once the Servant had come close enough, I turned to the knowledge I had acquired. The Third True Magic. Funny as it sounds, in essence this magic embodies one of the Christian doctrines of the immortality of the soul. The Third Magic represents the idea that the human soul is absolutely and unconditionally irreducible, incorruptible, indestructible, and untouchable, and it also allows that soul to be materialized, thereby, as a side effect, granting true immortality. And since the soul cannot be diminished by something as simple as time and effort, the soul becomes a perpetual motion engine—in other words, it has an inexhaustible source of energy.
And now, thinking about it properly, in a sense you could say I’d already been partially using this magic all along—because of my peculiarities it simply can’t affect me in full. But when it comes to a Heroic Spirit...
There were no special effects. Artoria, who until then had been on the verge of dispersing due to lack of magical energy, suddenly let out a shocked gasp.
"What did you do?" the blonde asked, staring at her hands in disbelief. She could clearly feel that she was no longer a Heroic Spirit sustained by her Master’s mana, but a genuine living being of flesh and blood, overflowing with energy.
"A miracle of the Third True Magic. Materialization of the soul. Congratulations, you’re alive again," I said in a tone as if it weren’t anything special. But damn it, the emotions bubbling inside me and the smile trying to spread across my face ruined that act completely.
"Now, he-he, none of them will be able to leave me," a thought slipped out unbidden as I remembered the mortality of Jean and the other people dear to me in my home world.
"You’re grinning like a proper witch," Artoria stated with a blank face, making me flush a little and push away the unnecessary thoughts.
"Ahem, Mordred, your turn now."
"You’re not going to do anything weird, are you?" she asked warily for some reason, in no hurry to come closer.
"Have I given you even a single reason to doubt me?" I asked, feigning slight offense.
"Your smile was way too creepy, just like Mother’s," Mordred declared knowingly.
"If that’s what she was thinking about in those moments, then maybe she wasn’t all that bad," I snorted before, in a somewhat soured mood, using the magic on Mordred as well—effectively bringing her back to life.
"Let’s head back. Since things turned out this way, we can say our goodbyes and leave a small gift for those who are staying," I said, pretending to sulk, and without waiting for Mordred’s reaction to her new state, I went toward the temple at the top of the mountain. After all, why not start with a certain rather pitiful witch?
Needless to say, our return put Medea on guard. However, once she understood why we had come, her expression, to put it mildly, radiated disbelief. For the magi of this world, selfless help is something truly absurd. Only no one said this was selfless. I was genuinely satisfied that I had done everything exactly the way I wanted. How many times, watching a movie or reading a book, when a certain moment came, had I thought: "I wish it would end differently." But here... here I don’t have to sit and think that helplessly—I can make everything go according to my own desire. That’s why I killed Matou Shinji, and why during this war Matou Zouken and Gilgamesh were also eliminated. Because I wanted it that way.
And now I want to try myself in the role of Queen of Britain.
"Tssst, why does it hurt so much!" Mordred complained, sitting in front of me with her back bare.
"What did you expect? I’m not Merlin and I only know runes, so deal with it."
What was happening now? After we had said our farewells to everyone and helped everyone who wanted to live again... By the way, Archer, upon suddenly learning that instead of existing as a Heroic Spirit he was being offered resurrection, changed his mind and decided to stay. Anyway, Artoria reminded us of an important detail that had allowed her to become king, albeit not without problems. That detail was that, thanks to Merlin’s magic, everyone perceived her as a man. Otherwise, would Morgan really have had any trouble becoming Britain’s ruler, considering her connection to the misty isle of Albion?
Thus, since Merlin’s help was not in sight, I was now sitting behind Mordred, who had bared her back, and inscribing a chain of runes directly onto her skin, so that the same effect would passively work—forcing those around her to perceive her as a man.
"Just a little more," I said, beginning to draw the last rune, eliciting another groan from her.
"It better be worth it," Mordred practically hissed.
"Oh, we’ll definitely test that," I whispered seductively in her ear, finally finishing the spell.
