"What?" Artoria, for a moment, didn't quite understand.
Because in this world, she, as King Arthur, had been a woman, and she had never considered the forbidden romance between Lancelot and Guinevere a fault. If anything, she had felt a certain guilt toward Guinevere from the start, having had to go through a marriage that was never going to be real, all to help Guinevere conceal her own identity.
But from a god's-eye view—or for that matter, from Lancelot's own perspective—the collapse of the Knights of the Round Table had begun precisely with that forbidden affair. From the moment Agravain and Mordred caught them and Lancelot killed Agravain, to the moment he rescued Guinevere from the pyre and cut down Gawain's friends, every step gave Mordred an opening to exploit. And by the time Lancelot received the dying letter Gawain had sent begging for his help, by the time he arrived, the legend of King Arthur was already over. After that, all he could do was live out his days in self-loathing and regret.
Perhaps it was because the Holy Grail had sensed his wish that it had summoned him to this particular Holy Grail War—the one in which King Arthur existed.
"Raise your head, Sir Lancelot." Artoria reached out to support him. "I have never harbored any blame toward you."
She glanced at Ymi, his current Master, but didn't seem to have any objection.
"My king... however noble you remain, the only thing I yearn for is for you to chastise me." Words like that could not dispel the self-condemnation in Lancelot's heart.
"As I recall, a Servant's memories shouldn't actually be carried back to the Heroic Spirit itself." Iskandar, watching from the side, swirled his cup. "King of Knights, you have a fine follower."
Even if Artoria were to kill Lancelot here, the original spirit wouldn't gain the slightest measure of redemption.
"So, King of Knights—what is it that you wish for?"
"Need it be asked? I want to go back and save Britain." Saber answered without hesitation.
The other two scoffed at that, openly amused.
"Did I hear that right, little girl? You want to deny every bit of history you yourself created?"
"What's so funny about that?" Saber didn't understand. "The homeland that entrusted that holy sword to me was destroyed. I was devastated by it."
She wasn't the only one—most people present probably didn't understand why those two were laughing.
"You're not just denying the history you and your followers left behind. You're insulting everyone who created that age alongside you. You're not a king. You're just a small girl with the shackles called king clamped onto her shoulders."
Iskandar looked over at Ymi, who, after arriving, had been doing nothing but stuffing her face. "You live a harder life than the actual little girl over there does."
"What did you say?"
"And you, retainer of the King of Knights—what do you think of your sovereign's wish?" The King of Conquerors propped his arm on the wine cask he'd brought along, looking at Lancelot with interest.
Lancelot closed his eyes and forced out a defense. "If something has caused my king's heart to change, it must be that we, her followers, did something to displease her. But that does not give the rest of you—holding your various opinions—the right to malign my king, Rider."
Hearing that, Artoria finally registered the ambiguity. Having just said she did not blame Lancelot, to immediately turn around and announce she would go back to change things—it could indeed be read more than one way.
"That isn't what I meant, Sir Lancelot..."
"Hahaha. You truly are the finest jester, Saber. I find myself liking you more and more." Gilgamesh laughed in unrestrained delight.
A Servant didn't necessarily descend at any particular age, and his current age wasn't far from the years before he met Enkidu. Before he had met Enkidu, a brute who bullied men and forced himself on women would have been a generous description of him.
"Are we just letting them argue?" Ritsuka muttered.
"Let them be. The disrupter will show up soon anyway." That was what El-Melloi said.
It struck Ritsuka as a little strange. "Professor Kongming, you seem to know more than a little about this Holy Grail War."
He went silent again.
"Faced with Ruler claiming the Grail belongs to her, you don't seem to have any complaints, Goldie." Iskandar turned to Gilgamesh.
The kitten, too, was glaring at Gilgamesh with no friendliness whatsoever. She'd slotted him into the same bad guy spot in her head that the King of Conquerors had originally occupied.
"What I possess is every treasure in the world. The sheer number alone is too vast for even me to tally. To deny these things belong to me simply because some legend lays claim to them—now that would be laughable."
Gilgamesh propped his cheek on his fist and met Ymi's eyes. "Compared to a piece of collected wealth like the Grail, what genuinely interests me is the meaning of that spear of hers."
When it came to anything Divinity-related, he—as someone who had actually lived in the Age of Gods—was inevitably more sensitive than Iskandar, whose Divinity was attached to him through legend.
The brat had just said the Grail is hers, not the Grail belongs to the Son of God, hadn't she?
Iskandar wasn't satisfied with his reaction. "You wouldn't be the type to bully the weak and cower from the strong, would you, Goldie? Why are you the only one being almost civil to the little girl?"
Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes. "Only an utter fool would think that, King of Conquerors."
"That's exactly why I keep saying that Grail is no good. With a Servant as powerful as Ruler, I have no reason to deceive you." El-Melloi finally seized the chance to cut back in.
"Shut up already, you coward, hiding wherever you're hiding. You're not even as brave as the brat I've got here." Iskandar ruffled Waver's mop of hair while throwing in the insult at El-Melloi.
"..."
"Cat's done." Under Mrs. Iri's feeding, Ymi had polished off the entire cake. She stood up, eyes locked on the chocolate Ritsuka had set aside, curious about what that black stuff tasted like.
Irisviel covered her eyes to keep her from looking, and gave Ritsuka a look saying eat it fast if you're going to eat it.
"Oh, that tiny frame finished off a cake that big? Truly worthy of Famine." The King of Conquerors complimented her for a genuinely odd reason.
It was that very cake, in fact, that let Lord El-Melloi register the time elapsed and finally notice something off. "By rights, Assassin should already have shown up to make trouble (and die). Why hasn't he?"
Ritsuka glanced at the five Servants present.
You're asking why?
She glanced at Lancelot, who still hadn't received the chastisement he'd come for, and clapped her hands. "It's getting late. We should head back, Ruler?"
It might not be very polite to leave before Rider had even spoken his own wish, but she had to use the window of decent signal to get El-Melloi to spell out where the Greater Grail was. Right before they came over, the signal had been fine—and the moment the topic of the thieving student came up, the professor had gone silent. If possible, she wanted to investigate tonight, but obviously not in front of this crowd of Servants.
"Going already?" Mrs. Iri sounded reluctant.
Mostly because picking up the kitten felt a little like holding Illya.
Ritsuka shook her head and deliberately said something to make them awkward. "Better to leave. If Saber's Master sends another bullet our way, I won't be able to take it."