Waver: "Really? Dead?"
Waver: "Sisigou, do you regret it? You could have left peacefully."
Sisigou: "This was my own decision. I have no regrets."
Sisigou: "Well, this ending isn't bad."
Sisigou: "Besides, I'm doing just fine right now."
Waver: "That's true."
[Sisigou could no longer respond to Mordred, but she already knew the answer without asking.]
[Watching his body slowly fade away, Mordred closed her eyes, as if drifting into sleep.]
[In her dream, she returned to Camlann—the place where her memories ended.]
[But this time, she wasn't experiencing it from her own perspective. Instead, she witnessed what happened after her death.]
[I had been pierced by the Holy Spear, and Artoria had suffered serious injuries before being taken away by a silver-haired knight.]
[Mordred followed behind, watching as the knight tirelessly encouraged Artoria and searched for a place to rest.]
[She remembered his name—Bedivere.]
[Though he was among the first Knights of the Round Table to serve under my father, he wasn't particularly strong. Instead, he took care of my father's daily life, making his presence easily overlooked.]
[She watched as Bedivere placed Artoria beneath a tree, hesitated twice before finally returning Excalibur to the Lady of the Lake at her insistence.]
[And with that, the legend of King Arthur came to an end.]
["——I'm sorry, Bedivere. This time, I think I'll sleep a little longer——"]
[Seeing Artoria's peaceful expression, free of regret, Mordred couldn't hold back her tears.]
[Perhaps this was only a dream, but she believed her father was worthy of such an ending.]
[Outside, Mordred's figure vanished, leaving behind only the cigarette she had been smoking. It slowly rolled next to Sisigou's cigarette, burning away together.]
Artoria: "Sir Bedivere, huh? I really miss you."
Mordred: "That was the end of my father."
Lancelot: "..."
Shakespeare: "Ah, what a finale, truly a masterpiece of artistry!"
Shakespeare: "Remember this, remember it well! That final counterattack, even if it only wounds the enemy, it is still a victory! This is a story worthy of legend!"
Semiramis: "It's your turn next. Try not to embarrass yourself."
Shakespeare: "Oh, my dear Empress, such things are difficult to predict."
[After traversing a long, narrow corridor, Jeanne d'Arc finally arrived at her destination, the chamber where the Holy Grail was kept.]
[It was a vast, bowl-shaped space, stretching beyond sight, with the Holy Grail floating at its center.]
[Jeanne: "Red Faction's Caster, show yourself at once!"]
["Oh! Since you've called for me so earnestly, how could I refuse?"]
[Dissolving his spirit form, Shakespeare materialized, declaring, "My masterpiece crafted with sincerity, passion, purity, and a myriad of other elements shall reach its grand conclusion here!"]
["Shakespeare?"]
[The moment he appeared, Jeanne activated "True Name Discernment" to confirm his identity.]
[Shakespeare: "Ah, the country girl herself! Oh dear, how rude of me—I let my natural disposition slip. Yes, I am the Red Faction's Caster. Tell me, are you disappointed?"]
["Jeanne d'Arc, there exist more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy!"]
Bluebeard: "How dare you address the Holy Maiden by name!"
Even he had never called her by her true name—yet this man dared to.
Shakespeare: "Names exist to be spoken, and your saint does not seem to mind. Do you, my dear Jeanne?"
[Though irritated by his theatrical manner, Jeanne still replied patiently, "Though I doubt it will do any good—will you surrender?"]
[Shakespeare: "Oh~~ Surrender, you say? How difficult! For you do not meet the conditions required for my surrender!"
Jeanne: "Conditions?"]
[Shakespeare lifted a quill and began writing in the air.]
["The first condition is an emotional one. ''I am an official Servant of the Red Faction. My ability to stir the hearts of men ranks among the top two of our side—I refuse to become a mindless beast!"]
["The second condition concerns entertainment. Our eyes are sharp, we are the chosen ones blessed with inspiration! In other words, this moment, this scene is utterly thrilling!"]
["The third condition is power. Our might surpasses your wildest imaginings, it is despair itself. No matter how hard you try, you cannot catch up. No, rather, the harder you try, the further behind you will fall! Like Achilles and the tortoise, no matter how much you struggle, you will meet your end here."]
[Jeanne gazed at Shakespeare and spoke in a low voice, "And what exactly is it that will bring me death?"]
[Shakespeare raised his arms in an exaggerated flourish. "Why, it can only be our grandest spectacle—'A Tale for the Ages, a Thunderous Ovation'! Now, allow me to set the stage for what comes next."]
["I'm not interested in your performance!"]
[Jeanne had lost all patience and lunged at Shakespeare.]
[She was no fool, why would she simply wait for him to unleash his Noble Phantasm?]
["Alas, the curtains rise! Take your seats! No smoking! No photography! And absolutely no booing! The world is my stage—A Tale for the Ages, a Thunderous Ovation!"]
[Unfortunately, Jeanne was a moment too late. Just as her holy flag was about to pierce him, Shakespeare's Noble Phantasm had already been activated.]
[In the next instant, the scenery shifted, a nostalgic scent of fresh grass filled the air.]
[Jeanne found herself back in Domrémy, her hometown. Her armor and flag were gone.]
Tohsaka Rin: "Is this the same trick he used against Frankenstein before?"
Tohsaka Tokiomi: "No, the activation method is different. The previous instance seemed like a mere spell, but this—this is his true Noble Phantasm."
Waver: "An illusion?"
Shakespeare: "No, not an illusion—a story."
Chihiro: "It's just that sometimes, the actors rebel."
Shakespeare: "Silence! Last night's tale shall remain our greatest embarrassment!"
Jeanne: "Did you see his Noble Phantasm last night?"
Chihiro: "Yes. A detestable Noble Phantasm that suits its equally detestable Master."
Shakespeare: "Oh, should I take that as praise?"
["Is this… an illusion?"]
[Jeanne scowled at Shakespeare's lack of taste, quickly scanning her surroundings, only to find him gone.]
["It is useless," his voice echoed. "Whether it be me or the characters within the play, this tale will not stop. Such is the nature of this Noble Phantasm, even for a Ruler like yourself."]
[Jeanne: "If it is an illusion, I can dispel it with my Magic Resistance."
Shakespeare: "Ah, but this is no illusion—it is a story. You, Jeanne d'Arc, are the protagonist. Now, recall your life and experience a tale that never should have been."]
["So, are you ready?"]
[Shakespeare's Noble Phantasm transcended mere magic. Its authority was on par with that of an Innate Bounded Field.]
[Once one stepped onto this stage, they were bound to play their role until the very end. Escape was impossible.]
[It was not sorcery but a Noble Phantasm that preyed upon the heart itself.]
Tohsaka Rin: "So his Noble Phantasm is this powerful."
Waver: "He calls it a story, but in reality, he's forcing his victims to relive their most shameful memories!"
Illya: "That's awful."
Shakespeare: "Oh, but it is not so simple! My tale is finely crafted not a mere retelling of the past."
Shakespeare: "It has twists and intrigue, true entertainment!"
[Jeanne: "...My life is insignificant compared to many heroes. It would be a dull play, hardly worth performing."]
[At this moment, she had yet to grasp the true horror of Shakespeare's Noble Phantasm.]
["Jeanne, are you really leaving?"]
[A nostalgic voice rang out, sending a shiver down Jeanne's spine.]
[It was her mother.]
[Since bidding her farewell at the age of seventeen to join Charles VII's army, she had never seen her again not even at the moment of her own death.]
[She had prepared herself for this, yet the instant she heard that voice, guilt and sorrow tore through her heart.]
Jeanne: "Shakespeare, you—!"
Shakespeare: "Calm yourself! If you lose your composure now, how will you bear witness to the rest of the story?"
Jeanne: "Guh—!"
["Yes, Mother, I must go."]
[The words came naturally. She was merely reenacting her conversation from years ago.]
["I cannot ignore the Lord's call. This may be our final parting. Please pray for me. As long as you and the Blessed Virgin watch over me, I shall not fall."]
["I will pray for you, my dear child, that your path remains ever illuminated."]
[This should have been the end of their exchange, the moment she set out on her journey. But—]
["But you never returned."]
[Jeanne's mother turned away, shaking her head in sorrow.]
["Why did you have to be burned at the stake, mocked for eighteen years?"]
[Your will was unbreakable, iron and flame. No matter the pain or despair, you never wavered in your faith. But as your mother, I could only feel sorrow.]
["So—don't go. You already know how it ends, don't you?"]
[Even though she knew this was merely an illusion, Jeanne could not deny that it truly reflected her mother, Isabelle's, grief.]
(To be continued.)
***
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