Not far away, the burning firewood crackled with sharp snaps, sparks bursting and scattering.
Like fireflies of different colors flitting in the air. Through the dim moonlight, Bedivere's anxious expression entered the boy's gaze.
Shirou lowered his eyes, smiled faintly, "It might sound a little complicated to say it out loud. But the story between me and Saber… it all began with this scabbard."
After that, Shirou told Bedivere about his bond with Saber, and about how, at the very end, Saber gave up her sorrowful wish and entrusted Avalon to him.
When Bedivere finished listening, tears streamed down his face.
"So the King had already let go… yet I…"
"Ugh!"
Unable to endure the guilt in his heart, Bedivere fell to his knees, covering his mouth, and wept bitterly, "My King, please punish this disloyal knight of yours!"
In that moment, he truly wanted to stand before Artoria, to repent of his sins.
What had he done?
He had destroyed the King's one and only chance to rest in peace, the only chance to return to paradise.
And all of it, simply because of his own selfishness.
To a knight of loyalty, this was more painful than killing him and letting his soul fall into hell to suffer every torment.
At last, Bedivere seemed to have made some kind of decision. His hopeful gaze turned to Shirou, as if clutching at his last straw:
"Mr. Shirou, can the King still return?"
"She definitely can!", Shirou replied with firm certainty.
Even though he still didn't know why he had come here, but meeting Saber, from the very start, had been a decision already made. That could never change.
"Then I'm relieved."
This knight, who had accompanied King Arthur to the very end, one of the oldest of the Round Table, looked finally at peace.
He half-knelt on the ground, assuming the posture of greeting King Arthur, and said reverently to Shirou:
"Mr. Shirou, you must already know what kind of unforgivable crime this unfaithful knight has committed."
The silver arm shone brilliantly as he said, "This right arm is the very end of my disloyalty, the proof of a sin that cannot be undone. So, here and now, I beg you, please take this right arm, this Holy Sword that symbolizes the King's eternal victory, the 'Sword of Promised Victory'."
"What kind of nonsense are you spouting?"
Shirou looked at him like an idiot, "Why should I pay the price for the mistakes you made? Since it was your own fault, shouldn't you go and confess to the King yourself?"
"Or are you telling me, that one of the oldest knights of the Round Table, the knight who stayed by King Arthur's side until the very last moment, is actually a coward who can't even face his own mistakes?"
"That's not it!"
Bedivere's emotions flared, and he shouted in protest, "I only…"
"Only have no face to meet Saber?"
Shirou's tone was flat.
"Don't bring out such a laughable excuse to embarrass yourself, Sir Bedivere. Whether you're worthy or not, that's not for you to say. Only Saber herself can judge that."
"Besides Saber, no one, whether it's Sir Gawain, Sir Tristan, or Sir Mordred, has any right to point fingers at you."
"They can hate you, curse you, call you a disloyal knight, say you're unworthy to face King Arthur."
"But that is absolutely not a reason for you yourself to run from her."
"Things have come this far, and you'd still choose to run away? To escape your responsibility? Sir Bedivere?"
"Or do you admit yourself, you are an unfaithful knight, one who betrayed King Arthur, betrayed the trust she placed in you?"
The question pierced straight into his soul.
"No!"
Bedivere's tone broke loose, his emotions burning, "That's not true! My loyalty to the King, my faith to the King, the path I vowed to walk, including my life and soul, everything, all of it, is for that solitary, lofty figure!"
"I am King Arthur's knight, one of the Round Table,.Bedivere! I seek only to uphold the truth!"
"For that, even if there are ten thousand standing in my way, I will cut them all down beneath my sword!"
After saying this, Bedivere finally calmed down.
Realizing that he had lost control and spoken irresponsibly, he quickly apologized, "My deepest apologies, Mr. Shirou, for letting you, someone so deeply cherished by the King, see such an immature side of me as a knight of the Round Table."
"As long as you've understood, that's fine."
Shirou glanced at the two beautiful girls hiding nearby, eavesdropping.
'Repeat offenders, huh.'
'Don't tell me those two back home have the same bad habit?'
"Go eat. Rest up well."
Shirou said,n"The battles ahead will only grow harder."
"Mm."
Bedivere nodded with utmost respect.
That look made Shirou feel strangely uncomfortable.
Especially the way Bedivere was walking a step behind him.
"Sir Bedivere, what are you doing?"
"Don't mind it, Shirou the Queen… cough, Mr. Shirou. I feel more at ease walking behind you."
Shirou: "…"
'What did he just say?'
'Queen? What did he mean by that?'
"Sir Bedivere, you misspoke!"
Shirou decided to correct him.
"Eh, misspoke?"
Bedivere looked a little embarrassed, muttering silently in his heart: The King even gave you her scabbard. How could that possibly be just a normal relationship?
Or rather, isn't that already an answer in itself?
"Of course!"
Shirou said seriously, "I'm a man. How can you call me Queen? It should be Consort."
Bedivere: "…"
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