Chapter 253: There Are No Losers in a Shura Field
Merlin, the court magician who resided in Avalon, could see the present world's scenery. Naturally, she could also see Rowe and Artoria's reunion at this very moment.
Yes, a true reunion.
The Artoria who appeared last time had only been a Servant clone. This time was the genuine article, an existence who descended from the Throne of Heroes, emerging from Avalon, the legendary resting place of King Arthur.
More importantly, this was no longer Artoria's unrequited love.
Because the Throne had extended into the present world, and Rowe had gathered all his shadows across past, present, and future.
That meant he also carried memories of being with Artoria.
He was also the one who watched Artoria grow.
"Compared to me, you are her true guide, her true mentor, aren't you?"
The wind scattered fragrant petals through the Avalon garden. In that sea of flowers, Merlin stood atop a towering spire, gazing into the distant scene.
Satisfaction rested on her face, an emotion she would never have shown in the past.
As a fairy, as a nihilistic being who sought pleasure, the Merlin of long ago had craved unpredictability. Proud kings meeting their demise, tragic heroes tumbling into purgatory, demons laughing as they threw the world into chaos for a thousand years. That was the kind of drama she used to want.
But during her time in Rome, she experienced many things, changed many things, and gained a deeper understanding of humanity. Only then did she finally realize humans were never tools she could manipulate at will.
Even if her nature could not truly change, even if she still enjoyed watching plays and making trouble.
Still.
"A thousand years of waiting, and finally a real ending. Isn't that wonderful too?"
Merlin turned her head slightly, smile bright.
"What do you say?"
"Uther Pendragon. No, I should call you Vivian, the fairy of Paradise."
A figure beside her slowly opened her eyes.
Silver white hair drifted in the air. Her manifested form was graceful and beautiful, and the staff in her hand glimmered faintly.
"Troublesome fellow," Vivian muttered.
Merlin chuckled, shamelessly amused.
"Your plan failed again, didn't it?"
Vivian rolled her eyes.
"Isn't it all your fault?"
The fairy who emerged from Paradise had originally come with a command to reclaim the King of Fairies from Rowe. But after setting foot in Britannia, while being called the Lady of the Lake, she coincidentally met the Britannian princess known as Uther.
Uther begged her to save Britannia, but at that time, her lifespan was already nearing its end.
Most fairies were like demons. What they give, they must inevitably take.
So Vivian agreed to Uther's wish.
She took the dying soul.
And then she asked herself what came next.
Why not use this identity, and see this world?
So the fairy of Paradise took over Uther's identity and briefly became the King of Britannia. She collaborated with Merlin to create Artoria.
Artoria was destined to be Camelot's king.
Only she could save Britannia from Vortigern. Only she could save Camelot.
However, rise always came with fall.
Camelot would also be destroyed by Artoria's hand.
Under normal circumstances, Artoria should never have been entangled with Rowe. It was only to erase the traces Rowe left in the world that Vivian connected Artoria to him.
If Artoria were to be destroyed, she would also take Rowe's final traces into ruin with her.
At that time, her wish and Paradise's task would both be fulfilled.
To ensure the process went smoothly, Vivian also transformed into Morgan le Fay, becoming Uther's daughter. She competed with King Arthur, created one modified human after another, and laid opportunity after opportunity for Camelot's destruction.
All of it should have proceeded perfectly.
Except.
She underestimated Merlin.
"You never underestimated me, Vivian dear."
Merlin sat on the window sill of the tower, legs dangling as petals drifted past. The nightmare magician smiled lazily.
"Although it was I who led Artoria step by step closer to Rowe's power."
"But the one who truly freed her from your influence, who broke her out of fate, was always his afterglow."
Vivian did not deny it. She simply pondered.
"Can mere residual influence create a great king?"
Merlin spread her hands.
"No. You are still wrong."
"The one who truly made Artoria a great king was never Rowe."
"It was herself."
"Human will can decide everything."
"This is what I learned in Rome."
Merlin's gaze softened.
"And you already understood it too. Otherwise, you would not be here."
Vivian did understand.
Having appeared as a king, then as the king's sister, she had long since understood.
So in the end, after Artoria used her own charisma to resolve the turmoil caused by Mordred's rebellion, a crisis that could have collapsed Camelot, and after the Knight King led her army to conquer the continent of Europa, Vivian chose to let go.
Camelot was destined for destruction, but the glory of its king would live on forever.
Morgan le Fay's mission was doomed to become difficult. She would never return to Paradise.
Yet, at that moment, her thoughts were complex, and also strangely light.
She was a fairy of Paradise.
Bound to a mission, and still inevitably captivated by the human world.
"However, it is still hard to say what the future of this world will be."
Morgan exhaled, looking at Merlin. Her red lips parted slightly as she spoke.
"The Horned God, Cernunnos, is almost here."
"He will bring seven calamities."
"With the deaths of seven worlds, he will hinder the development of this one world that might break through the starry sky."
"What exactly is humanity?"
"This time, just this once, let me see it clearly."
Her voice drifted away, carried by the wind.
Merlin brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, her radiant smile unchanged.
"Is this why you came from the Lostbelt specifically?"
"King of the Lostbelt."
"Hmph!"
Morgan's figure was already gone, but her displeasure still echoed in the air.
Merlin's smile widened.
"I am looking forward to it too."
"This play is not finished yet, is it?"
After all, she was still a fairy.
"A thousand years of waiting finally reaches an end."
"But can this ending be preserved?"
…
"Of course it can be preserved."
"All these projects you mentioned."
In the Tokyo reception room, Himiko laughed openly.
"Lia truly lives up to her name as a king. Her considerations are very thorough."
"This is also the overall trend, is it not? Heroic Spirits are treasures that belong to all humanity and the entire human order. World integration is inevitable."
"No single nation, no single organization can be called the human order."
Artoria, sitting opposite her, wore a serene smile. There was no trace that she had just stepped into another realm.
Yet her meeting with Rowe had not been illusory in the slightest.
At that instant, Artoria Pendragon truly embraced her own reality. In that same instant, she displayed her charm with utmost allure.
With memories, foundation, and emotion, it was impossible for Rowe to avoid coming to her.
So Artoria shed her royal robes, her graceful pale body entwining with him, releasing a thousand years of emotion, a thousand years of longing.
The flow of time inside that displaced space differed from the outside.
After a long entanglement, when she returned, only a fleeting moment had passed in the present.
Even Himiko, a top class Heroic Spirit, was completely unaware.
She only felt that Artoria seemed to have become more mature and more captivating in the span of a breath.
The perfect figure under the fitted blue robe looked even more beautiful. Divinity rose along her chest. Noble bearing extended from her slightly crossed, full and shapely legs.
Himiko could never have imagined that moments ago, Artoria had been in that same position in another space, intimate with another man.
In the short window after returning, Artoria formally discussed a cooperation agreement between Japan and Britannia with Himiko.
They signed a strategic alliance.
They signed the first step toward an international integrated body.
It was called cooperation with Japan, but in truth it used Japan as a stepping stone, the opening move of a collective human alliance.
This too was what Rowe had mentioned to her after their intimacy.
It was what he hoped to see.
With the arrival of Heroic Spirits, humanity could only unleash the full power of all heroes, past and present, by uniting.
Only then could they overcome the coming disaster.
"Three days from now," Rowe had told her.
"Go to the top of Tokyo Tower."
That was his final invitation to Artoria.
A grand event.
By then, perhaps all her rivals would arrive.
It did not matter.
Because Artoria had already achieved victory.
The azure king of Britannia smiled more gently. Himiko misunderstood it as satisfaction with the agreement and smiled happily in return.
Good.
Her Majesty Amaterasu and His Majesty Emperor Jinmu should be relieved.
…
Still in Tokyo.
After leaving Artoria's side, Rowe stood atop a towering skyscraper, facing fierce wind and feeling the gusts rake across his skin.
Looking down, the modern city formed a steel forest. Lights shimmered across clustered buildings. Engines roared as vehicles flowed like rivers.
Rowe rubbed his temples.
At moments like this, he was grateful he had never abandoned his identity as a human.
He never abandoned it, and he climbed step by step as a human, reaching beyond the primeval.
If not for that, he suspected he could not have withstood the exploitation of this group of queens and goddesses.
"I knew that once I faced them, none of them would let me off."
Rowe exhaled, feeling a mixture of pain and a strange happiness.
But this was the promise they desired.
And Rowe would not be stingy with it.
The only problem was, could they stop coming so frequently?
"Of course not!"
A clear voice, sharp and heroic, cut through the wind behind him.
Rowe turned.
A girl with flowing emerald green hair stood there, bow in hand. The withered yellow at her hair tips traced a faint path in the air. Beast ears on her head swayed slightly.
Her pretty face was heroic, green eyes narrowed, red lips pursed.
Atalanta.
The huntress from Greece, still in a dark green dress that wrapped a slender, athletic, curved body.
She raised her bow.
The arrow loosed in an instant.
It did not aim for Rowe.
It aimed for the sky.
The arrow that pleaded to the moon.
Daylight collapsed into darkness. The modern city's steel jungle flickered, then reverted into an ancient landscape.
"Arcadia's paradise."
Rowe stared at the familiar surroundings, paused, then let out a breath.
A landscape from thousands of years ago.
A world class grand magecraft.
A Reality Marble.
But it was not Atalanta's power alone.
It came from the bright full moon that appeared above in the darkness.
It came from Artemis.
Atalanta smiled, satisfied.
"Once you are in here, you cannot run away."
That was not necessarily true.
Rowe glanced around.
He could still leave.
But what then?
Run, then continue facing endless pursuit?
Endless shura.
"I do not have that much time left."
Morgan le Fay of the Lostbelt could sense the coming crisis, but Rowe could feel it even more clearly.
The terror of it pressed closer than ever.
It was no longer a single Horned God, Cernunnos, tangled in the resentment of one world's death.
It was seven.
Perhaps seven Lostbelts that could not be pruned in time. They developed to their ultimate end, then collapsed, and the fallout became an immense horror.
Even though the present world had been covered by the Throne, it still needed time to truly grow.
At least for now.
If Rowe could not integrate the world's power, he still would not be able to resist what was coming.
"You are not running?" Atalanta looked almost unfamiliar with his frankness.
Rowe spoke with the calm of someone who had stopped fighting the inevitable.
"I am not running. I am tired."
"Tch. Is that all you have?"
Atalanta lowered her bow and stepped forward.
"Yes. That is all."
"How about it?"
"Not good at all."
Atalanta grabbed his collar. She could not pull him in, but instead pulled herself forward.
Her athletic body crashed into his space. Her face, half hidden beneath emerald hair, tightened with dissatisfaction.
"Do you know how long I waited for this moment?"
Atalanta was dissatisfied with Rowe.
Not because he ran.
Because he stopped now.
"I am a hunter," she said, stubborn and proud. "The most excellent hunter in Greece."
"What I want to hunt is the greatest hero of Greece."
"It is you."
She pursued for years. She waited for years.
Compared to others, Atalanta had never been the strongest. She barely qualified among the highest tier of Heroic Spirits.
But her will was no less than anyone's.
No less than anyone's.
"You are wrong, Ata."
Rowe raised his hand and gently stroked her head.
She meant to catch him, yet somehow ended up in his embrace.
He hugged her softly, leaned down, and smiled.
"You are not the best hunter in Greece."
"I am."
Atalanta's brows knit.
Rowe continued, voice low, almost teasing.
"Want to know why?"
"Because I already caught the best hunter in Greece."
"What nonsense."
Atalanta felt his warmth on her head and ears. At the same time, she felt the steady pressure of his hand at her waist, anchoring her there.
Her defiance evaporated.
In its place came softness.
Softness of the body.
Softness of the heart.
Rowe smiled.
Among all the people he had met, Atalanta was the most inexplicable.
At first, she treated him as an enemy, a heartless man. Later, during their journey, closeness and dependence formed almost too abruptly.
Only Atalanta understood why.
She had lived her whole life in the forest, and from Rowe she felt warmth.
They bickered and argued constantly, but their exchanges stirred something she did not know how to name.
It was the process of a beast becoming human.
A fledgling bird grows attached to the first person it sees.
So Atalanta falling in love with Rowe had always been inevitable.
The best hunter in Greece.
Perhaps she had already been caught back then.
But she never thought of breaking free.
Never thought of escaping.
"Who caught whom is still not certain," Atalanta muttered, glancing aside, then smiling despite herself.
She wrapped her arms around Rowe's neck. Her cheeks flushed, but her smile remained pure, with a faint, dangerous charm.
She stood on tiptoes, pressing fully against him, lips parting.
"Is it not normal to use bait to lure prey?"
"Then do not blame me for devouring the bait completely."
"If you can do it, then come and try."
Atalanta truly was the best hunter in Greece.
Even after Rowe left Greece, she rarely left Arcadia's paradise. Even so, her occasional interventions earned her fame.
She was confident.
At least right now.
She would never admit defeat.
For Rowe, winning or losing was not the point.
He gave everyone a promise.
He gave everyone a vow.
He would not abandon anyone. Even if he disappeared for a time, he would try every possible means to return to their side.
It was greedy.
It was shameless.
But he was willing to do his best to give everyone the life they wanted.
Atalanta opened her eyes.
The Reality Marble vanished. The city returned. The sky returned.
She lowered her head and stared at the message Rowe had left her before he departed, the same content he had left Artoria.
"So be it."
"Hmph. Do as you please."
"Anyway, you are already my prey. I captured you completely."
Atalanta looked up at the sky and smiled.
"Lady Artemis."
"Rowe, I will leave him to you for now."
"Leave him to me."
"In three days, I will arrive as promised."
…
"Umu. Three days? I have already received it, Rowe!"
Within the Roman emperor's lodging in the East, in a brand new palace built after authorities learned of Nero's flamboyant tastes, Nero nodded her golden head and smiled.
She had received a message.
A message from Rowe.
At that time, she would arrive as a victor crowned in laurel.
She would take Rowe's hand under the eyes of all.
And tell everyone.
"Rowe belongs to Rome. Rowe belongs to me."
…
"Scathach, are you going?"
"If I said no, would you agree?"
"Of course not."
"Then how could we not go? We are champions, after all."
…
"Ereshkigal. Wake up. That man is stirring up trouble again."
"Hmm?"
"Three days. We only have three days."
"Ishtar, why are you so excited?"
"Because we are the victors."
…
"I am going to the East. I will leave this to you, Jeanne."
"Eh?"
The Dragon Witch stared at her immediate superior, the beautiful Hunnish queen, Altera, whose face looked almost expressionless.
"You are not going to see Lord, are you?"
Altera did not deny it.
"Then I want to go with you."
"As you wish."
Altera looked into the distance, wheat colored skin and a silent presence that resisted the wind.
…
"Hahaha. My friend invited me. How could I not go?"
The King of Uruk laughed.
"Wise sir, I will certainly arrive."
…
Almost simultaneously, countless Heroic Spirits received Rowe's invitations.
Gather the human order of the whole Earth.
Gather the power of the entire planet.
"That is a desperate move," someone murmured.
"But only this way do we have a fighting chance, do we not?"
"So that is why you took the initiative to find them?"
"I had no choice," Rowe admitted. "Making them all believe they won was the only way."
To make everyone believe they were the victor in contending for Rowe.
Then, even if they met, fresh disputes would not erupt as easily.
After all, those who consider themselves victors, when facing losers, tend to look down on them.
And people who look down also tend to be lenient.
This was also why Rowe later chose to deliver himself voluntarily.
Perhaps this was the true reason Poseidon gave Rowe that promise.
Thank you, Poseidon.
If I meet you later, I will consider leaving you a complete corpse.
Tears in my eyes.
Rowe understood.
"But doing this might backfire," someone warned.
"Then I can only leave it to fate."
…
At Tokyo's amusement park, Rowe received an ice cream from a newcomer. It was so crushed it barely resembled food.
He stared at it, then sighed.
"Can you not give me a better one?"
"No, I cannot," the person opposite blinked. "Because you did not come to me first."
Rowe paused.
"Are you jealous?"
"Of course not. I am just a little unhappy, that is all."
"That means you are jealous."
Rowe smiled and ruffled the girl's smooth emerald green hair. Then he casually took her slender hand and lowered his voice.
"Forgive my greed. I do not want to lose anyone. So I also want to protect this world, Enkidu."
Yes.
The one standing before Rowe was Enkidu of Mesopotamia.
She had already arrived at his side in advance.
After their intimacy, they came here together.
Now she had shed her plain white dress for modern clothes.
A white top outlined her graceful figure. A slender waist contrasted sharply with a full chest, and the open neckline revealed a patch of fair skin. Short shorts hugged her hips, and long fair legs extended with clean, elegant curves.
Her emerald green hair was tied into a ponytail. The beautiful, spirited girl listened, startled for a heartbeat, then smiled.
"We all know," she said, blinking.
From an ordinary person's perspective, Rowe was indeed shameless.
But he was always open.
He never hid his past from anyone. He never hid his entanglements with others.
So everyone could accept what he did.
"So honesty is the greatest wisdom," Enkidu said, squeezing Rowe's hand.
Yes.
Honesty was the highest emotional intelligence.
People who tried to hide things never truly hid anything.
Rowe nodded, then looked up.
His vision blurred.
A vast mist rolled in.
This was Tokyo Disneyland.
But it was also the foot of Mount Fuji.
Mount Fuji was the ley line hub of East Japan, and East Japan's ley lines connected to the Divine Land.
Rowe came here not only to accompany Enkidu.
He came to meet someone.
A dragon.
The ancestral dragon vein of the Divine Land.
A booming laugh shook the mist.
"Hahahahaha! Long time no see, Rowe."
"My friend!"