[FGO] Britain Salvation Plan

For Bedivere, the long journey seemed to have no end, and the unknown ending led to boundless fear.

However, as a knight of King Arthur, the crimes he committed constantly tormented his soul, plunging this silver knight, renowned for his loyalty, into an abyss of repentance.

If it weren't for the protection of the Holy Sword, Bedivere's physical body would have long since vanished into the torrent of time. But the goal pursued by his broken soul was distant and elusive, and with his remaining will, he supported his walking corpse-like body to continue moving forward.

It would be a miracle to find the king who wielded the holy spear and stand before him.

At the same time, the woman's slender white hand left the shoulder of the black storm who sat on the throne, and the noble lady in a dark dress gracefully walked down the steps.

With his back to the young magician and the purple-haired sub-servant, the Silver Knight stood weary yet resolute before the British princess.

Despite the seemingly insurmountable distance, Bedivere spoke softly: "...Your Highness Morgan."

"This seems to be the first time I've spoken to you like this, Lord Bedivere."

After removing the veil, Morgan was able to observe the knight's face directly and discovered that Bedivere and King Arthur had the same beautiful emerald green eyes, which made her feel a little affection for him.

Bedivere took heavy steps, one after another, toward the throne. "Yes. But... which one is the real you, the one Lord Tristan speaks of, and the one the people of the Holy City speak of? This question has troubled me for a long time."

Morgan smiled slightly, and a black spear-shaped staff appeared in her hand. Under the wary gazes of Fujimaru Ritsuka and Matthew, she pointed it at the Silver Knight. "So, you're the kind of man who needs a reason to draw your sword?"

Despite the threat from the island witch, Bedivere did not stop.

"I simply have a premonition that if I knew you from your previous life, there would be no reason for you to appear here. If what you seek is the death of King Arthur, then our goals are aligned. However, your true wish is not an end, but a continuation. My wishes are worlds apart from yours, and I think... that's why you stand on the opposite side."

The knight's unwavering gaze was reflected in his icy eyes. As Morgan raised his staff, he said, "There is no mistake, Lord Bedivere. I love Artorius, and you respect him as well. Desire itself is neither right nor wrong; there are only differing perspectives."

As soon as he finished speaking, a cold, dark vortex formed beneath the knight's feet. The raging tide trapped the silver knight, and even Bedivere, who was wielding the holy sword, was no match for this attack. The two behind him couldn't help but shout loudly in desperation.

For Morgan, the outcome was decided in an instant.

Humans are no match for her, and her mental fortitude will not yield.

—Although I feel very sorry for Lady Bedivere, let her be a wicked woman to the end.

The magical gust of wind tousled Morgan's hair and clothes, and as if the dust had settled, her silver hair, fluttering in the wind, gradually disappeared from Bedivere's disheveled figure.

Just before Bedivere was sliced ​​into pieces by the powerful current, the pure Knights of the Round Table resolved to protect her. As the girl's clear voice cut through the strong wind, the secluded and pristine White Chalk City appeared across time and space!

Under the protection of his last Master and Matthew, the knight leaped across the swift waters, shouting with a desperate resolve, "I must complete my final mission!"

Caught off guard, Morgan's eyes widened as she stared at the knight who charged straight at her, a knight who had momentarily become dazzling. She instinctively responded:

"And I will crush your wish."

The battle between the witch and the knight lacked dazzling techniques and unexpected moves.

Sparks flew as their weapons clashed, and the reflection of their faces in the swords was replaced by beams of magic. On the city of Camelot, a symbol of King Arthur's great achievements, their "weapons" were unyielding beliefs.

On one hand, there is a thousand-year-long search and self-accountability;

On one hand, there is the hope that will eventually be realized by constantly traversing the world.

As Morgan said, their desires were neither high nor low, nor could they be measured in terms of importance.

She was prepared to trample on the other party, and no amount of words could make amends. She was determined to save the country even if it meant getting her hands stained with blood.

No matter how sad.

No matter how desperate the situation.

No matter how heartbreaking...

"Stop it, Morgan."

Just before Morgan raised her staff to unleash a beam of magic, a familiar warmth embraced her from behind, gently stopping her movements with a pair of tender arms.

It was as if this hug had pressed the pause button.

"Arthur?"

Why?

Morgan couldn't understand it.

Altoris is a gentle person.

Even when he transforms into a storm, his fingertips and body temperature are still filled with love for her.

So she didn't want Altorlis to deny Bedivere; wouldn't it be more in line with a fairy tale to have such a cruel thing done by a "wicked woman"?

"You've done enough. Now it's my turn."

Upon hearing this whisper, Morgan's azure eyes narrowed sharply.

She slowly turned her head to look at him, and unexpectedly fell into his blue-gold eyes beneath his platinum bangs.

--What does that mean?

He had promised her he would save Britain with her. He had assured her with solemn, tender words…

"Then let us become this miracle."

So...

Morgan pursed her trembling lips.

Please...

Caught in Altoris's gaze, her lips, which she had finally managed to open, opened and closed silently.

—Don't leave me.

The magic that had suddenly vanished burst forth with tiny, sparkling lights like fireworks. As Morgan stared in disbelief, the golden-haired, golden-eyed king strode forward until he stood before the silver knight.

The black-haired master dared not breathe too loudly, while the purple-armored knight beside him looked worried.

As if sensing something, Bedivere knelt down and offered the longsword, which was enveloped in light, with trembling hands.

The king's imposing figure outlined a cold and aloof silhouette in people's eyes. His body, shrouded in black armor, was as majestic as a mountain range. His arm, extending from the rugged armor, reached out towards the holy sword offered by the knight.

The moment the Storm King received the glorious light of victory from the oath, the god's indifferent golden eyes rippled like the surface of a still lake. The Silver Knight, kneeling before him, his wish fulfilled, closed his eyes forever.

"You have indeed upheld your loyalty, Lord Bedivere, my most faithful knight."

Bedivere’s deep remorse for himself and his guilt that had lingered for thousands of years were indeed conveyed to his lord.

And in the very end, he atones for the mistakes he has made.

Just as with the knights who either fled in fear of punishment or left the Round Table, Artoria never blamed Bedivere.

Even in his final moments, he harbored no resentment towards anyone.

Artorius Pendragon never regretted his life.

However, he still had a wish that he had to fulfill.

Therefore, he picked up the Holy Lance... no, he chose the Holy Lance, and thus he was decisively different from King Arthur in pan-human history and the Lion King who was forced to walk the world with the Holy Lance.

She accepted the curse of the Holy Grail and existed in the world only as "her" Artoria.

This is the true form of the Storm King.

If I fail to reunite with "her," it will likely turn into a cruel storm, tearing everything apart in the endless wait.

However, a miracle happened to him, and he became more like an ordinary man than a king.

Therefore, this body is entangled in a curse and is unwilling to simply vanish.

The first to realize this was the magician, who witnessed everything through the projection. "Why...didn't the singularity disappear? Even though the Holy Sword has been returned, King Arthur hasn't given up the Holy Lance?"

"You've misunderstood one thing from the very beginning, Chaldea magicians," Artorius's cold voice rang out.

The holy sword, which the king had taken, vanished in a burst of golden light, and his speech continued: "When Lord Bedivere appeared at this moment, our goal was achieved. The Holy Selection that has been staged before your eyes is nothing but a magic trick."

"Wait a minute! Was this all part of the plan from the very beginning of the Holy Selection?" The man known as Dr. Roman asked, his voice filled with astonishment. "Then where did all the refugees go? No, no..."

Fujimaru Ritsuka couldn't help but interject: "Was it all a hoax to defeat the Magic King or save humanity!?" The boy, who had witnessed the massacre up close and whose mind was etched with the suffering of the refugees, questioned the cursed god.

"No, defeating the Magic King and saving humanity was indeed my initial goal, and the means I used to achieve this was the Holy Chosen. However, this means changed later."

From the mountain people, Matthew learned that the Storm King first established the Holy Capital and carried out the Holy Selection, and only later did the "Demon Queen" appear and join the Storm King's ranks. Matthew then made a very natural deduction: "...Is it because of His Highness Morgan?"

Even now, the Sub-Servant's gaze toward Morgan still held no hostility; her pure heart simply expressed her confusion.

Silently using magic to check Artorius's condition, and after confirming several times that his body was without any abnormalities, Morgan regained his composure and, with the aloofness that people generally expected, addressed the girl: "Matthew Kyrielight, or shall I call you Lady Galahad?"

"I am merely borrowing the power of that knight, not an equal being, Your Highness Morgan." Matthew's trepidation was palpable as he spoke to the legendary witch for the first time.

"So, Matthew," Morgan readily addressed the girl by her name, "do you still remember what Gao Wenqing said?"

"Yes...is it this sentence that you and the Storm King's wish is the true salvation for this land?"

Morgan nodded slightly and continued, "In your original understanding, as long as the cause of the historical distortion is eliminated and the Holy Grail is retrieved, the battles, bloodshed, and sacrifices that occurred in the singularities will be restored to their original state. But we only recently learned that this is not the case, right?"

Upon hearing this, the Chaldean group did not ask Morgan how he knew about the secret conversation.

"In other words, at least on this land, while your actions may avert 'future destruction,' they cannot save everything in 'this era.'"

"this……"

Seeing the trembling light in the eyes of the boy and girl, Morgan, who had fought alongside them in another world, skipped the topic and, under the tense gazes of the group, raised her staff again. "If you also agree that we should understand each other's motives through dialogue, then I will tell you a very simple truth: as a princess of Britain, what I care about is nothing more than that island."

Those who knew Morgan le Fay through the legend of King Arthur did not object, but just before Matthew noticed something amiss and asked a question, the silver-haired, blue-eyed noblewoman interrupted her before she could speak.

"Just as the man watching from the future thought, I did indeed have other plans, and I persuaded Artorius to adjust his purpose to make it our shared hope."

Romani Archman, who had been subtly implying something to Morgan, seized the opportunity to ask, "So what exactly is it...?"

They had speculated about Morgan's motives, from manipulating the Storm King to ascend the throne to making the Holy City a second Camelot. However, with Morgan deliberately keeping her distance to conceal her true intentions and allowing the Storm King to carry out his original plan, no one could guess her true intentions.

The answer to the pink-haired magician's question was the Storm King's deep gaze.

In an instant, the rumbling of the earth caused by the distortion of space and time made Fujimaru Ritsuka and Matthew stagger violently!

The intense light ruthlessly robbed us of our vision. In the increasingly blurred field of vision, spiderweb-like "threads" suddenly pierced through the sky, and an invisible force shattered the heavens and the earth into pieces.

The magicians from the human rights agency were unable to comprehend what they were seeing.

Morgan demonstrated to them a dreamlike magic that was beyond human imagination, far grander and more decisive than any dream magic trick before.

The last human master to experience this firsthand, Fujimaru Ritsuka, stands on a platform where reality and illusion intertwine.

The coordinates located beyond the ends of the earth overlapped with the replaced land.

The band of light covering the sky condensed into mist, then turned into a light drizzle. A tender green, growing from afar, covered the barren land, while intensifying flames, as black as ink, swept in!

The next moment, all was silent.

Therefore, the Storm King's declaration is particularly clear: "—Our plan to save Britain."