Fate: How About a New Savior?

When Artoria slowly woke, most of her injuries had already healed.

The carriage moved gently along the plains road, rocking softly with each bump. She was resting against Shiomi's chest, like sinking into a giant cushion, her body completely enveloped in his warmth.

She could hear Shiomi and Scáthach talking nearby.

"So it seems the Holy Grail is in the hands of that fake Enkidu?" Scáthach said.

"That's what he claimed. I didn't expect the Holy Grail to actually be with him," Shiomi replied thoughtfully. "But now that its location's been exposed, I doubt the fake Enkidu will appear again anytime soon."

As long as the King of Magecraft's Holy Grail was successfully retrieved, the Singularity would begin to repair itself. The fake Enkidu had to understand that much.

"According to the intel from Uruk, Enkidu is already dead. So this version of Enkidu, who openly admits he isn't the real one, could he be some kind of replica created with the Holy Grail?" Scáthach asked, eyes on the slowly advancing horses.

"It shouldn't... be as simple as just a replica," Artoria said quietly, opening her eyes.

Shiomi looked down at her. "Are you alright now?"

"...Not exactly... It's still a bit rough," Artoria replied after a pause, then continued the earlier topic. "That man's core power undeniably comes from a divine weapon. With the gods of Mesopotamia no longer able to interfere with the lower realms, the Holy Grail alone shouldn't be enough to recreate something identical to Enkidu."

"What do you mean?" Shiomi asked, curious.

He adjusted his arms slightly, helping Artoria sit up a bit more comfortably against him.

"It's just a theory. The body made of the Chains of Heaven, the Holy Grail, and the Demon Pillars," Artoria said. "I suspect that when the King of Magecraft sent the Holy Grail into this era, he also provided extensive support to empower the fake Enkidu."

"But didn't the King of Magecraft move on to the next phase after the Incineration of Humanity? Why would he..." Shiomi's question faded as naturally as melting spring ice.

Even with the Incineration of Humanity complete, the King of Magecraft had foreseen that his grand plan might be overturned. That's why he repeatedly appeared before Shiomi—trying to dismantle the very reasons that kept him fighting.

Humanity, having overcome death and evolved, should no longer be fighting for the sake of the old world.

That was the King of Magecraft's argument.

In the final moments of that dream, the King of Magecraft had said the Seventh Singularity would be their end. It was both a warning and a veiled hint.

A hint that, in this Seventh Singularity—an age far preceding the King of Magecraft's own birth—he had made deeper preparations and exerted greater influence.

Seeing the flicker of realization cross Shiomi's face, Scáthach smiled knowingly. She clearly agreed with Artoria.

"Not only that," she added, "do you remember? The real Gilgamesh of this era hasn't returned to Uruk."

"You mean," Shiomi said, stroking his chin, "the reason for Gilgamesh's disappearance might be related to this fake Enkidu?"

"Or maybe," he muttered, "he is the reason Gilgamesh disappeared?"

Shiomi couldn't say for sure. Would Gilgamesh, on a journey to seek the Elixir of Immortality, lose his composure upon seeing a dead friend appear before him?

Only the Gilgamesh sealed inside the Divine Tower could give them a solid answer.

But no matter how he looked at it, the impostor was a fitting candidate—whether to capture or even kill Gilgamesh.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Scáthach said. "Rather than sitting here racking our brains, we should keep investigating this Singularity. That'll bring us closer to the truth faster."

She glanced up at the sky, then guided the carriage to a stop beside a river.

"Master?"

"At this pace, it'll be dawn by the time we make it back to Uruk," Scáthach said, turning to rub Shiomi's cheek. "Even if you're fine, the King of Knights isn't."

Artoria, nestled in Shiomi's arms, simply lowered her gaze, neither confirming nor denying it.

"Although the Spirit Core wasn't damaged, being pierced by the Chains of Heaven is no minor wound," Shiomi sighed. "Sorry. If I hadn't been caught off guard and restrained, you wouldn't have been distracted."

Hearing his apology, Artoria lifted one hand, and Shiomi gently took it.

Restored mana flowed into her little by little. With her eyes closed, Artoria felt as if she could see her Spirit Origin gradually healing.

She could have easily pulled herself from Shiomi's embrace and rested against the side of the carriage instead.

But this was better.

Maintaining close physical contact made it easier to absorb mana efficiently.

...Not that such practical reasoning was enough to explain why she stayed like this.

As the child of the Red Dragon, created to be a perfect king, Artoria had failed to die a proper death. Transformed into a Divine Spirit by the secret within the Holy Lance, she had walked a path of isolation—one she hadn't even realized was so lonely until now.

It was only when she encountered someone like Shiomi, someone with a similar nature, that she found herself inviting him in—without fully understanding why.

Humans refuse to become gods. And gods, in turn, reclaim human hearts.

To stand between man and god is to occupy a place they both understand. They shared not only that same space... but the same desire—to save the world.

She wanted to be his strength, to be someone he could rely on. And also... to rely on him.

Humans aren't meant to live alone. That's why they acknowledge their own weakness and support one another.

She was no exception.

"Well, at this rate, even by dawn, we'll still need rest before we get back to Uruk," Scáthach said, signaling toward Shiomi with her eyes.

"...I know." Shiomi wasn't some naive child. He understood that better than anyone.

"Then what are you still hesitating for?" Scáthach's fingers brushed his lips. "Didn't we already settle this back when we parted ways at the Sixth Singularity?"

"I'd rather not get killed by my teacher," Shiomi said with a teasing grin.

"If I really intended to do that, my spear would've gone through your throat long ago." Scáthach gave his cheek a sharp pinch and followed with a voice full of teasing mischief. "If anything, I'd help you keep it from Morgan."

Shiomi wanted to say there's no way that could be hidden from her, but Scáthach just smiled, then turned and walked down toward the river—whether to fetch water or to bathe, it wasn't clear.

While Shiomi exchanged words with his master, Artoria simply leaned quietly against his chest without saying a word. Her flushed cheeks and the shimmer in her eyes, reflecting the ripples of the river, were the only signs that she wasn't entirely at ease.

"Master... do you not want this?"

"There's nothing like that..."

But sometimes, actions spoke far louder than words when it came to showing what one truly felt.

...

(100 Chapters Ahead)

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