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Chapter 47: The Shadow Legion and the King's Army
🕑 Added 2025-05-18 15:41:45 +0000 UTC"You don't understand, the people need saving, they need me to save them," Artoria said, her voice trembling with desperation. In her mind, perhaps all that remained was regret and fear.
"You owe them nothing!"
Arthur drew his weapon, the Sword of Promised Victory. "This sword's choice, even if you change, it will not."
"But my choice can change!"
Artoria suddenly understood something. Perhaps she could step back. What if she hadn't grasped that sword?
Arthur took the Sword of Promised Victory and walked to Artoria's side.
"Blindly trying to save everyone is a completely useless endeavor. Even if you save them once, what about the next time? Or do you believe that besides you, anyone else can save them again? Gawain? Merlin? Or that Knight of the Lake? No! They cannot! Merlin possesses all the knowledge of the future, yet he still entrusted the throne to you. Don't you understand why?"
"Merlin... knew everything?"
Artoria had been raised by Merlin. She had never considered that Merlin, knowing full well that Britain would fall, still chose her.
"Artoria, give up. Salvation cannot appear forever. What they truly need is to receive the king's guidance. The people can only save themselves. So, stop putting pressure on yourself, because all the blame should not be yours to bear."
"But..."
Artoria truly wanted to tell Arthur that her choices were right, but just as she was about to speak, the image of Camlann flashed through her mind—millions of corpses, blood flowing for miles. The people on the ground were all her subjects, her vassals.
Perhaps she thought she had long known the future, perhaps she thought she could accept it, but...
But why?
When Artoria witnessed that moment, she couldn't change anything, only grieve silently within her heart.
At that moment, Artoria felt her hand being held. The hand that grasped hers conveyed warmth.
She raised her head and saw a pair of eyes, incredibly gentle eyes. Within them, there was pity and longing.
"Arthur, why... why are you looking at me like that?"
"It's nothing..."
"Hmph!"
A cold snort cut through the atmosphere.
A thick killing intent permeated the air.
In the intense moonlight, dark shadows began to appear—white skull masks and black night-cloaks. One by one, they surrounded the group.
Hassan of the Hundred Personas—a full-scale attack!
The shadow legion that had been hidden for so long finally revealed its full force before them.
Men, women, old, young. Dozens of figures all emerged. It seemed these individuals were uninvited guests.
The situation had become extremely dangerous, yet the kings remained remarkably calm. Diarmuid, however, was different. For him, his priority was still to protect his Master.
Watching the incredibly composed kings, the youngest, Waver, felt a surge of fear.
"Rider, hurry, stop drinking..."
However, Iskandar paid him no mind. Everyone present had the ability to deal with these intruders in an instant, so there was no need for alarm.
"Haha! What's the big deal? It's just a few guests arriving."
"Guests! These murderous-looking figures! Are they guests?!"
Iskandar was helpless. He simply stood up and addressed the shadow legion.
"Gentlemen and ladies, perhaps you could refrain from releasing your killing intent. You're frightening my friend."
Diarmuid was also surprised.
"Conqueror, do you actually intend to invite them to join us?"
"Of course. A king's words should be heard by all, whether they be enemies or friends. Anyone who dares to come is welcome to take a seat."
Iskandar took a ladle of wine from the barrel.
"Don't stand on ceremony, drink your fill. This wine is as good as your blood."
Unfortunately, Hassan didn't seem to appreciate the gesture. A feathered arrow shot directly toward them.
Whoosh!
The wine in Iskandar's hand splashed onto the ground.
"..."
Iskandar was surprisingly calm. He looked at all the Hassans before him.
"I told you already."
Iskandar didn't seem angry, merely sensing that a true shift was occurring—one that only the kings truly understood.
"I told you, this wine is as good as your blood. Since you insist on this..."
Before Iskandar could finish speaking, a violent gust of wind swept through the area, though everyone could feel the intense heat within the gale. Such wind was unusual in this deep forest.
"Arthur, Gilgamesh, and Knight King, I ask you—is a king solitary?"
Gilgamesh smiled gleefully. For her, this was the perfect response.
Artoria paused slightly, then said, "A king... is naturally solitary."
"King Arthur?" Iskandar turned to Arthur, genuinely curious about his answer.
"A king... is not solitary."
An inexplicable gale gradually enveloped everything nearby, and the surrounding structures began to erode. The group seemed to have been transported to another place.
"No... impossible..."
The Masters were utterly shocked. This was a grand thaumaturgy, something only mages truly understood.
"To think there would be... a Reality Marble!!"
Ionian Hetairoi!
Manifest!
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