With a sigh, Mordred packed away that impractical fantasy and all those wistful thoughts.
She had already overcome tribulation and forged her own legend. Reality was as it was; there was no need to indulge an illusion that shouldn't exist, like a childish girl.
Mordred turned her back to Shirou, leaving him with only the sight of her petite figure, unable to see her expression.
In an even tone betraying no emotion, she said, "I have lost, thoroughly and completely. If you want to kill me or leave, please go ahead."
Defeat?
Yes.
Even if other methods remained, this...
This was enough.
Eternal King wouldn't descend. And even if he did, it wouldn't be the person she wanted to see.
So this was enough.
Her Holy Grail War ended here.
"Mordred..."
Gazing at her tiny back, he pondered briefly before walking toward her.
He had undertaken many deeds in the past—acts deemed heroic by others. But had he ever truly aspired to be a hero?
No. In truth, deep down, he had always seen himself as an ordinary man. An ordinary guy.
Enduring the fourth Holy Grail War, defeating Vortigern, saving Britain, killing Crimson Moon, repelling the invader... Carefully counting, he had accomplished so much already.
Yet there was not one deed he had willingly and actively chosen to fulfill from his heart.
Why had he come so far?
Examining the reason...it all stemmed from cherishing what was around him, unwilling for those precious things to meet harm.
He was willing to battle the cruelest enemies and plunge into endless combat, but refused to let what he held dear suffer the slightest harm.
Yes, his original motive was no grand ambition, merely the desire to protect what he treasured.
But not long ago, under Eternal King's influence, he had watched close friends depart in agony with indifference. From that moment, he understood—he could not become Eternal King.
He could not casually transform into that distant, ideal king.
...
Mordred was helpless to resist with the chalice, the core of her power, now in another's hands. Once that vital aspect fell into another's grasp, struggle became impossible.
Countless black hands erupted from Shirou's body, stretching toward the chalice. He understood that as long as the chalice could be retrieved, Mordred would be free to phase through and rejoin him.
The black hands clutched at the white ones. Both were bizarre appendages, yet the white hands' strength far exceeded the blacks—many black hands were shredded apart.
Mordred had already stopped struggling. There was no longer any point in persisting since her lifeline was held by another. She calmly regarded the agitated Shirou and said, "You don't need to do this. You stand lofty as Eternal King while I am just the symbol of disgrace that ruined the kingdom you built."
"Symbol of disgrace? What are you talking about? You are my daughter! My daughter!" he shouted.
Shirou stared at the countless white hands. The black mud alone was not enough to stop them.
He activated his Vampiric Evil, stretching out blood red hands toward the chalice, and hurled countless Noble Phantasms and energy blasts, trying to sever the white hands. But all was in vain.
"Daughter...? You are not even Eternal King...You are not Eternal King!" Mordred seemed to flare in anger as she yelled.
"I am not Eternal King everyone expects, I am just myself!" he yelled back.
The formidable might of the white hands tore through his black and red limbs. The chalice and Mordred were dragged toward the enormous rift yawning open in the sky.
He gritted his teeth, powerless to prevent this. His opponent's power had already far surpassed his imagination and ability to resist.
...
It was already over...
Gazing at the boundless dark steadily approaching, Mordred sighed softly.
Her Holy Grail War journey ended here.
Yet how laughable. During this War, she had actually undertaken so many willful acts—truly a black mark on her history.
But in the end, she never did see what she truly wished to meet. This was rather regrettable...
"Oh?" The woman uttered a soft exclamation.
Mordred couldn't help but jolt in surprise as well.
Luminosity suddenly suffused the dark space. Endless light pierced the shroud of black draping the world, cascading down like stars.
That light illuminated her face, so warm, like the dawn sun.
It's nice, Mordred thought.
She traced the path of that comforting glow, her complexion shifting in surprise.
Light...Boundless luminosity, like a sun banishing darkness, penetrated the endless gloom and shone upon Shirou.
And in that glow, his appearance transformed—silvery armor, long dark hair, and those eyes with blazing flames.
"That, that is..." Mordred mumbled, realization dawning.
Of course. So that was how it was. That is...Eternal King!
She closed her eyes.
Sensing he held no chance against the white hands, Shirou unhesitantly activated [Mortal Awakening].
Endless radiance pierced through the enclosed gloom, bursting through Hanging Garden's boundaries. Light began emanating from his body, banishing all shadow.
However...
"Eternal King is forever rational..."
"Eternal King..."
The fantasies of countless people toward Eternal King began descending from the Throne of Heroes, swaying his will.
Begone! All of you, begone!
I—am myself! Who I am has no need of your definitions!
Shirou shouted loudly amidst the blazing light surrounding his body. At the same time, the invisible vortex concealed deep in his soul began spinning faster.
The light churned into chaotic eddies like a whirlpool.
Crack crack crack—Grinding all those legends to dust, absorbed into the churning vortex.
This time, he didn't directly invoke Eternal King but called upon that existence through [Mortal Awakening]. And by doing so, the vortex being the core of [Mortal Awakening] could take effect.
He didn't know its true nature, yet the spinning drained those interfering legends and external impressions, granting him clarity once more.
He emanated a warm, mellow glow like the sunrise, dispelling the frigid dark.
The long night had passed. Dawn arose!
Shirou lifted his head slightly, fiery eyes brimming with gentle flames landing on the white hands binding the chalice.
He extended a hand and Rhongomyniad immediately took form in his palm.
Without uttering its true name, he directly activated Rhongomyniad, instantly manifesting its Tower of Light form.
But this time, he didn't make the Tower stand on the earth. Instead he condensed Rhongomyniad's power into a single incandescent lance of infinite light.
"Break for me—!"
Shirou roared as he hurled the convergence of the Tower's energy toward the white hands holding the chalice.
The focused Tower of Light became an endless shining lance, infinite power compressed to a single point. Just like the vortex in his soul, it spun violently, grinding all before it to dust. Then like a shining star, it lanced toward those devilish white hands.
Crack crack crack crack crack—!!!
Those durable white hands that had weathered the black and red limbs now crumbled and ruptured completely beneath this terrible luminous spear.
"Kyaa—!" The woman shrieked.
As the white hands shattered, the chalice tumbled down.
Seizing the chance, he leapt up high, catching the falling chalice.
With the chalice in hand, Mordred's Noble Phantasm activated, her body becoming phantom-like to slip free of the obstacles.
He lightly exerted his feet, stretching out his arms to catch her plummeting form.
Feeling the warmth of his chest, Mordred opened her eyes. What she saw was that shining visage and those gentle fiery eyes gazing at her.
"You are..."
"I'm the one you wanted to see, no?" Shirou spoke gently.
He lifted a hand, summoning the endless lance of light back into his palm.
Those blazing eyes looked kindly at Mordred as he said, "I'm back, Mordred."
Gazing into those warm fiery orbs, the memories she had long buried stirred back to life.
Mordred remembered—she remembered the true face of the King she had seen in her youth.
Majesty, ruthlessness, wisdom, cunning, cruelty...
No. That first time seeing the King's true form in the castle courtyard, what she had witnessed was not any of those things.
Rather...it was this pair of warm eyes holding gentle light.
I see...She had long forgotten Eternal King's real face.
He had never been the ideal king of her fantasies. He was...
He was the Black Assassin, Fujimaru Shirou!
Cradling the endless lance of luminosity, swirling eddies of light drifting from his form due to [Mortal Awakening]'s influence, this was not the "Eternal King Guinevere" slumbering in legends. This was the true...
Eternal King Shirou!