Miracle Summoner

———

Silence once again visited this space.

The apocalyptic scene from before, as if it had never existed, vanished without a trace.

Yet, the wounds on Artoria's body told everyone that everything that had just happened was real.

But precisely because it had truly happened, it became all the more difficult to accept.

"...Why did you stop?"

Mounted on her beloved steed, Artoria held her Holy Lance, gazing at Rozen. The once-calm and emotionless eyes now showed ripples of emotion.

"Your power is exhausted... But that's not the reason you stopped the summoning, is it?"

Artoria stared at Rozen, who was still radiating an astonishing amount of mana, without even a hint of exhaustion. Instead, he coldly looked in her direction and spoke.

"What are you plotting, human?"

Artoria questioned him.

It was clear that after the battle just now, Artoria had acknowledged that Rozen was a threat to her.

And not just any threat—one that was fatal.

The sheer depth of mana and power Rozen possessed made it hard to believe that it belonged to a mere human.

If not for her Holy Lance and the Holy Grail, she might have already been annihilated by those terrifying Beast Vassals.

Of course, the fact that she had endured against a full eleven calamity-level Beast Vassals and emerged with only these injuries was proof of her own immense strength.

Because of this, Artoria did not feel fear—but she was confused.

Confused as to why Rozen had stopped.

Confused as to why he did not continue fighting.

Yet Rozen paid no attention to her. Even Mash and Artoria [Alter] remained silent, offering no response to Artoria at all.

At this moment, only one person stood before Artoria.

Tap—tap—tap—tap—

Amidst the clear sound of footsteps, Bedivere, holding his silver arm, walked toward Artoria step by step, as if dragging a wounded body.

Only then did Artoria notice Bedivere approaching and furrowed her brows.

There was no helping it.

"You intend to face me alone, nameless knight?"

Artoria asked expressionlessly.

Her words elicited no reaction from Bedivere but instead caused Mash to lift her head.

"Nameless knight?" Mash said in shock. "Could it be that the Lion King doesn't remember Sir Bedivere?"

Indeed.

The way Artoria looked at Bedivere was as if she were staring at an unfamiliar, insignificant, unknown existence. That gaze was certainly not one that should be directed at a Knight of the Round Table who had once served her.

It was as if Artoria had completely forgotten about Bedivere.

However...

"Even if you no longer remember me, I still remember you."

As he slowly approached Artoria, Bedivere gazed at her, his eyes filled with emotions that made Artoria's heart tremble inexplicably.

Bedivere spoke.

"I remember your voice."

"I remember your appearance."

"I remember your stance."

"I also remember your past and your presence."

"No matter how arduous and long the journey has been, I have always remembered everything about you, and I have brought it all with me here."

"Now, I have finally met you again."

"My King."

Bedivere's voice was filled with relief.

That expression made Artoria inexplicably agitated.

It was something truly unfathomable.

Ever since she had ascended into divinity, Artoria had lost all human emotions. She no longer felt anger or joy, let alone sorrow or happiness. She had discarded her humanity and attained pure godhood, completely unmoved by worldly matters.

For her current self, only a few things could stir her heart, and they were all divine concerns—such as the world, such as the planet—not individuals or the past. Even though she had just barely survived Rozen's explosive assault multiple times, she had only felt minor disturbances in her thoughts.

To shake her heart now was an exceedingly difficult feat.

Yet this nameless and weak knight before her—why did he make her so agitated?

And not just any agitation—a kind she had never felt before.

That frustration made Artoria speak up involuntarily.

"Who are you?"

Artoria questioned.

"Me?" Bedivere smiled bitterly, then murmured, "I am merely a sinner—one who made the wrong choice, leading to everything that has happened now."

That was the truth.

"You should not have forgotten me." Bedivere stared directly at Artoria. "You should resent me, hate me, curse me, and scorn me."

"Because, if not for me, you would never have become like this, committing so many painful deeds."

"It has been 1,500 years… truly too long."

"Fortunately, I have finally found you, my King."

Saying this, Bedivere revealed a genuine smile.

"And now, I shall return to you what I was meant to return."

"Our most beloved King Arthur."

With those words, a phenomenon occurred around Bedivere.

"Zing!"

Suddenly, Bedivere's silver arm radiated a dazzling, resplendent light, as if it had finally been unshackled and restored to its true form.

This miraculous prosthetic limb transformed before everyone's eyes—into a sword.

A golden, brilliant sword, shining with the light of the stars.

A Holy Sword.

A sword that looked extremely familiar to everyone present.

"Excalibur...!"

Mash gasped in shock.

Indeed.

Excalibur.

The Holy Sword in Bedivere's hand was none other than Excalibur, the legendary blade of King Arthur.

Upon closer inspection, this Holy Sword was identical in shape to the one in Artoria [Alter]'s hand. However, while Artoria [Alter]'s sword had been corrupted, appearing pitch-black with crimson veins like flowing blood—an ominous presence—Bedivere's sword was golden and radiant, exuding an aura of majesty and sanctity, an aura no lesser than Artoria's Holy Lance.

Without a doubt, this was a genuine Holy Sword.

Not a corrupted version.

Not a replica.

But the very original Holy Sword, the true Excalibur that King Arthur had received from the Lady of the Lake and wielded until the very end of her life.

This was the sword that had accompanied King Arthur throughout the legends.

This was the sword's true and rightful form.

And Bedivere—he possessed this Holy Sword, having even disguised it as his prosthetic arm.

In other words—Bedivere's silver arm had always been Excalibur itself.

"That sword..."

Artoria looked at the Holy Sword in Bedivere's hand, and for the first time, her expression changed dramatically.

"Urgh...!"

Then, as if stricken by a sudden headache, Artoria clutched her head.

In that instant, the memories she had discarded suddenly surged back into her mind.

"Ah...!"

Artoria couldn't help but cry out.

Not only Artoria—even Mash and the others in Chaldea were stunned.

"Why...?"

Why did Bedivere have King Arthur's Holy Sword?

What... what was going on?