"What?"
Hearing Souya's words, not only Mordred but even Morgan froze.
"Do you even know what you are saying?"
In an instant, Mordred assumed Souya was deliberately going along with her words to please Morgan. However, before she could prepare to teach this man who dared to insult her idol a lesson, Morgan interrupted her.
Detecting the unconcealable excitement in her mother's words, Mordred looked at her blankly.
"Lamorak! Is it true? Do you really have a way to return to how you were back then?!"
Morgan reached out and tightly grasped Souya's hands. Her beautiful eyes were filled with nostalgia and hope.
No one understood the impact Souya's words had on her better than herself. Even knowing that the black-haired, blue-eyed Souya before her and her Lamorak were the same person, she inevitably preferred seeing Souya as he was before.
This could be seen from the fact that she always addressed Souya as Lamorak.
Hearing Souya say there was a possibility to prove he was Lamorak, Morgan instantly assumed he meant he could reproduce Lamorak's appearance.
That was indeed the case.
"Of course, Morgan. I would not deceive you with uncertainties."
Souya smiled gently. He naturally knew why she was excited. Who would not want to see their beloved appear before them again, looking exactly as perfect as they remembered?
Souya explained his idea to Morgan and Mordred.
"Morgan, do you remember the magecraft I displayed last night?"
"I remember. However, I could feel that the Heroic Spirit summoned by that magecraft seemed incomplete and had strong directional constraints. If you wish to use this to reproduce a Heroic Spirit's descent, can it succeed?"
Morgan frowned slightly. After a brief recollection, she voiced her observations regarding Souya's Spiritual Evocation: Holy Spirit Projection.
Souya nodded in confirmation while secretly marveling. With just one observation, she was able to state the essence and flaws of the miracle magecraft bestowed by God.
"Yes, the summoning of this magecraft carries strong directional constraints. It is fundamentally impossible to summon Servants outside the Christian system to descend upon me. Even though Lamorak is me, I cannot guarantee a successful summon."
Souya paused slightly, then smiled at Morgan.
"Therefore, if a problem arises in the process, I may need your help."
"My help?"
Morgan froze slightly.
Being intelligent and sharing a mental connection with Souya, she instantly understood.
She did not hesitate. Gently taking Souya's hand, she nodded.
"I understand, Lamorak."
Souya smiled, then looked at Mordred, whose eyes still held displeasure.
"Then, Saber, I will have to trouble you to wait a little longer."
"Tch!"
Mordred crossed her arms and turned her head away.
Seeing her like this, Souya could only smile helplessly. Since he had made up his mind, Souya did not intend to hesitate anymore.
Feeling his mana, which had mostly recovered with Morgan's help, Souya took a deep breath and began attempting to communicate with the Throne of Heroes.
Truthfully, Souya was not entirely certain he could succeed. Aside from the restriction of Holy Spirit Projection, his goal this time was not a partial Heroic Spirit descent like with Martha.
What he truly wanted was the complete descent of the Lion of Britain, the Knight of Radiance, Lamorak.
He wanted to reproduce the full power of the Knight of Flowing Water from the past.
However, delving into it carefully, this was almost impossible. The reason was the Spirit Origin.
The Spirit Origin is the foundation that carries a Heroic Spirit's power when they manifest in the world. It is the vessel that allows deceased souls to reappear and act in this world. Souya, who was performing Heroic Spirit summoning through a special method, did not have the means to grant Spirit Origins to summoned Heroic Spirits like the Holy Grail or Chaldea did.
All he could rely on was his own body. Even if he had the body of a Saint, and his physical parameters rivaled a Servant's, it was ultimately still a human body. He was fundamentally incapable of containing the complete descent of a Heroic Spirit's power for a long time. If he forcefully made the Heroic Spirit's power stay, there was a high risk his body would explode.
To achieve the goal by any means necessary, ignoring everything, even one's own safety—this was the pitch-black will of one who climbs in the dark of night.
Without much hesitation, Souya directly activated the magecraft.
"Spiritual Evocation: Holy Spirit Projection."
Accompanied by holy light and the sound of hymns being chanted, a mysterious aura surfaced on Souya's body once again.
This time, his choice was no longer the numerous Saint Heroic Spirits located in the supreme Kingdom of Heaven. He turned around and gazed far away, looking toward the distant Isle of Britain, which still preserved the appearance of the Age of Gods.
Upon it, he saw Gawain slumbering beneath the sunlight. He saw Lancelot drowning in the sea. He saw Percival walking on the path to seek the Holy Grail. He even saw Mordred, bearing the pain of ten thousand arrows piercing her heart, yet still standing upon Camlann Hill.
But aside from Mordred, the figures of the other Knights of the Round Table were dim and lusterless.
Souya did not stop his steps, searching for that familiar yet strange figure. Yet even after walking through the entire illusory Britain within the Throne of Heroes, he still could not see the knight named Lamorak.
Until the very end, he arrived at a cemetery. This was the only place he had not yet set foot in.
As if feeling something in his heart, even though the grace period from the Throne of Heroes was almost up, Souya stopped at a corner of the cemetery.
It was an ordinary tombstone without any gorgeous decorations. A few green vines crawled over the tombstone, and a line of small text was engraved upon it.
"Here lies Artoria Pendragon, the great King Arthur of Britain."
What truly made Souya pause was the small, beautiful girl wearing commoner's clothes, holding a blue-and-gold longsword, leaning quietly against the tombstone as if asleep.
"Lily... Artoria."
Souya softly murmured the girl's nickname.
Miraculously, the moment Souya uttered those words, the girl sleeping against the tombstone seemed to sense something and slowly opened her eyes.
Just like their gaze when they first met, the girl's eyes were bright, like the lush forests existing upon that land.
There was a wordless silence.
After a long while, the girl's eyes finally moved. The corners of her mouth curved up, her eyes crinkled, and she spoke softly.
"You came, Lamorak."
His heart giving a sudden twinge, Souya instinctively spoke.
"Yes, I am here, Artoria."
Before they could exchange more words, Souya suddenly felt a pain in his head. He understood this was the Throne of Heroes giving him a warning.
Communicating with the Throne of Heroes using mortal power was already a miracle; the time left for him was running out.
Just as Souya was feeling somewhat at a loss, he suddenly felt a bond from reality descend upon his dematerialized self. The next moment, his body involuntarily swept past Artoria and flew toward the depths of the cemetery.
In the final moment as he looked back, he saw the girl's burning gaze fixed upon him, and the shape of her lips.
"I will come find you."
When Souya finally came to a halt and clearly saw his surroundings, what he saw was no longer a cemetery, but a lake situated in a forest.
With just one glance, Souya knew where he had arrived: the place where he and Morgan first met. The Holy Lake of Britain.
Instinctively casting his gaze toward the center of the lake, he saw two figures there. One was Morgan holding another person, and the other was his target this time: himself from Britain. Lamorak.
Feeling the urging from deep within his mind, Souya thought no more. Stepping upon the surface of the lake, he arrived before the two figures leaning against each other. Then, he reached out his hand toward his past self in Morgan's arms.
As their fingers touched, the figure of the Heroic Spirit Lamorak emitted a soft blue light.
As if sensing the common origin of the two, the light spread to Souya's body in the blink of an eye. What followed was the rapid retreat of Souya's consciousness.
When he opened his eyes again, the first things that met his sight were Morgan's moistened eyes and Mordred's face full of shock and disbelief.
Recovering his senses, Souya felt his own body. He was surprised to find that not only did he feel no sense of incongruity, but his current power far exceeded what it was in Britain.
Instinctively, Souya waved his hand.
Even though he had absolutely no water magic attribute, as if by instinct, he released magical energy from his body, turning it into a water mirror.
The reflection shown in the mirror was no longer the black-haired young priest wearing a cassock. In his place was a gray-haired man wearing blue-black battle armor, dressed as a knight.
"It succeeded?!"
Feeling that familiar yet strange power flowing through his body once again, a smile bloomed on Souya's lips.
The next moment, Morgan could hold back no longer and threw herself into Souya's arms. Her usual noble and aloof demeanor vanished completely, replaced by unconcealable joy and excitement.
"Lamorak!"
Instinctively embracing Morgan, the smile on Souya's face grew even brighter.
Before he could fully process the moment, Morgan's passionate and deep kiss landed on his lips.
As if remembering something, Souya's eyes widened slightly.
Wait, Morgan! There is a child here.
To the side, Mordred was watching this scene with a complex expression.
The urge to draw her sword and attack him, which would flare up whenever she saw Souya and Morgan touch, had inexplicably vanished completely after personally witnessing him transform into a knight.
Looking at that face identical to his previous one, and those eyes almost completely identical to her own, Mordred was truly dumbfounded right now.
She finally understood why she felt a connection to him, and why this man had the aura of a Knight of the Round Table on him.
He really was a Knight of the Round Table.
Mordred immediately thought of how she had been calling Souya a bastard and acting so aggressive just now. Her face flushed red.
She had acted too rashly.
Suddenly, as if realizing something, Mordred's eyes widened.
If he really is Lamorak, and Morgan said earlier that he is my father, and Artoria is my Father-King... then what is the relationship between the three of them?
At this moment, Mordred's small brain was filled with massive question marks.
Meanwhile, on the Black Faction's side, the destiny originally belonging to the protagonist of this world had also begun to operate, but due to some changes, it had undergone a fatal alteration.