The wind rushed past as the Hippogriff lead the way up the dry northern valley, followed closely by the Pegasus. Like hunting raptors, they swept low and hugged the sheer cliffs of the valley to avoid attracting an unwanted eye. A trek that would normally take days was shortened to half an hour thanks to the aerial approach provided by the riders, even if laden with passengers. The only downside was the limited number that could be brought along; Simply accommodating a seventh was… problematic.

"Are you holding out alright, Cursed Arm?" Astolfo yelled over the wind. Gudao groaned at his crude joke.

"About as fine as I could hope," the Hassan grumbled loudly. And here he thought Arash's transportation ideas were ridiculous.

Astolfo looked over the side of his mount with a sheepish grin. Gudao joined him with a concerned gaze to observe the resigned assassin who hung from the Hippogriff's talons by his arms. Underneath his mask, frustration marred his features as he scrutinized the valley ahead. He silently repeated in his head this was for the sake of his people. "Take the left pass where the valleys splits."

The overburdened Hippogriff banked slowly into the slimmer canyon. Sheer cliffs on both sides slowly constricted like a menacing trap as they surged forward. As he glanced ahead, the canyon even seemed to grow with imposing height, but they soared within the earthen walls. He glanced downward at the valley floor far below, and instantly felt Mashu's grip around his waist tighten. He looked back with a reassuring smile that she would not see: The shielder's head was buried into his back.

"Are you doing alright?" He asked softly.

"No!" she shot quickly and made both him and Astolfo laugh. Her eyes remained bolted shut.

He patted her hand in reassurance, and without realizing it, let it linger after. "We should be there soon."

"You said that five minutes ago!" Her grip around his waist tightened, though he didn't mind. He felt partially ashamed for enjoying her scared embrace; She always claimed it was her defensive instincts trying to protect her. Gabrielle insisted she's completely scared of heights. There was little doubt.

"The temple will be within sight around the next bend. Not much longer," Cursed Arm declared. Gudao's intercom flared to life soon after.

"We've detected signatures ahead… Whatever it is, they're not the ordinary beasts in the valleys." Doctor Roman's voice echoed over the intercom.

The Hassan's eyes narrowed hesitantly. 'Have I already angered the first this much?'

"Cursed Arm! Are there guardians we're supposed to convince?"

Before the Hassan answered, the Hippogriff made another banking turn. The valley opened up into a vast cradle of sheer cliffs. Tall waterfalls cascaded from the bowl-like rim to the fertile valley below. Tiny paths snaked their way around the edges, and all lead to the very back of the grand vista.

An extraordinary monument was engraved into the mountain. Resembling Petra in design, the stone carved arches and pillars formed the grand entrance of Azrael's temple. Basked in the light of the sun, its tan surface contrasted against the gray rock that surrounded it. But it was not the wondrous architecture and adorned symbols that caught their attention, rather the massive translucent being that stood at the gate and glared towards them with crimson red eyes.

"That's not the bellhop, is it?" Gudao dryly joked. The Hassan wasn't laughing.

"I have never seen a guardian at the gates… It appears we must defeat this opponent to have our meeting with the First Hassan."

"Leave it to me!" Astolfo yelled as he spurred on the Hippogriff, followed quickly by the Pegasus and its passengers. The mount began picking up speed as the rider summoned his lance. A dumbstruck expression crossed the master's face while Mashu held onto him tighter in fear. Hassan struggled in the grip of the Hippogriff, clearly unable to do any fighting. "Let's do this!"

"PUT US DOWN FIRST!" the three simultaneously yelled over the rider's blissful laughter.

o==(=======-

Chapter IX: Old Man of the Mountain

-=======)==o

The Lion King's western fortress was the only bastion they held outside of the walls. It was an abandoned crusader fort that had been reconstructed to better suit the needs of enforcer expeditions, complete with underground dungeons and several barracks. Its stone brick bastions was a locked door on the main road between the mountain people and the Sun King's realm, prohibiting the two from ever interacting without conflict.

It is in the center of the fortress' courtyard that Sir Mordred broke the news, much to the newly arrived adjutant's skepticism. "You mean to tell me they've killed Sir Tristan?"

"Does it look like I'm joking? Ask any of these enforcers about his absence from the fortress," Sir Mordred countered with crossed arms. Their glares could light a match between. "I found your scout being chewed on by some wyverns. He handed over his verbal report before I put him down. Unless I heard him wrong... mayhaps you ask him instead?"

Sir Agravain narrowed his eyes further. It was mandatory to put down critically injured enforcers; It was cheaper to make a new one rather than heal from the brink... but something wasn't adding up with her story. "Where are my other two scouts?"

"How am I supposed to know? There was only one and his dying steed when I found him."

The adjutant growled. Judging by the quality of the report, he would either remain suspicious of the fellow Knight of the Round or not. Sir Mordred hoped for the latter, and her wish seemed granted with all the pressure from the Lion King. "It can't be helped then… Just give me the report. I have to ride back and speak with the King about this development. What did the scout observe?"

Sir Mordred uncrossed her arms, though the glare partially remained. "There are more Chaldean servants than anticipated. Their Gawain was once more present at the village. Sir Tristan was killed because of an unaccounted knight with a silver arm who could disable father's gifts and blessings. It appears he was the same cloaked assailant that wounded Sir Gawain. After being struck, Sir Tristan could not use his full strength."

Sir Agravain looked troubled by the news. A servant capable of neutralizing the gifts was a serious dilemma that could not be overlooked. That formerly unknown servant had to be removed immediately. "He was able to attack Sir Tristan, so the scout had to have gotten a good observation. What were the noticeable features?"

She knew the adjutant was a master of torture and gathering intel, though it didn't faze her. She would be less likely to get further support and free reign if he suspected anything, and crossing her father's chief advisor was out of the question. She had to give somewhere, but though she relented, she picked the cherries carefully so the ripest remained in her basket. "The knight wore armor similar to the Knights of the Round Table and had silver hair. I believe that would be Sir Bedivere."

"The one who didn't answer the summons of the King…" Sir Agravain growled. He suddenly recalled the poem, and his eyes flashed dangerously as he connected the dots. "It has to be him. He must be the rebel in prophecy… and he's already struck down one of the table."

She smirked in her mind; She got lucky. It seemed he was convinced already so she wouldn't have to reveal more and risk her prizes. "Do you want me to go rummaging around for them? I was going to go hunting anyway."

"Take your best men and start in the west. Push eastward from there and leave no stone unturned. I will return to the castle to inform the king of the news."

"Will father be angry at us?"

"I doubt so. It is Sir Tristan who faltered and rode out before us, but to send stronger troops to assist us will be at the King's lenience. I shall see for myself upon arrival. Until then, do not waste time! Find me those Chaldeans!"

Sir Mordred grinned. Everything worked out perfectly in the end. She could already smell the fresh wool of the keep's bed. "I'll set out once my men are ready."

The adjutant nodded in confirmation; At least the knight was eager in her purging for the king. Enough was going wrong as it was, and this situation was only furthering Sir Agravain's headache. Finally finished with their discussion, the man gazed towards the vanquisher standing at attention nearby. Finally noticed, it snapped to a salute. "I do not mean to interrupt, Sirs."

Sir Agravain nodded. "Well? Out with it! I must be off!"

"There's the matter of the servant prisoners Sir Lancelot brought in yesterday."

o==(=======- -III- -=======)==o

"I'm sorry! I got carried away!" Astolfo rubbed his cheek to soothe the sore red spot where Mashu's slap connected.

"Then don't carry us with you on the first charge next time!" Mashu chastised as her words echoed within the large structure. Its massive halls, etched deeply into the stone with fine detail, stretched seamlessly. Pictures on the walls seemed to tell a history of the assassins as the shadows' engravings flickered with the eternally lit torches. There was no pungent smell within the hallowed walls, yet it reeked of danger the further they went.

They had managed to defeat the temple's ghostly guardian in a timely manner, mostly thanks to the two noble phantasms that were already out. Walking through the large corridor behind Cursed Arm, the team found themselves marveling at the towering hallway. The pure silence as they walked was unnerving, especially after killing the large phantom that guarded the entrance. Ominous doubt crept up their legs like scouting ants to tease their nerves. The warmness of the middle east even faded into a growing frost.

"We will reach the First Hassan deeper in the complex. It is hard to find the way back out, so I request you stay close."

Arturia and Lancelot both had their blades out to strike at a moment's notice. They did less sightseeing than their allies as they strode carefully behind their guide. Medusa guarded the rear since her hearing could pick up the tiniest movements. The unending silence was unnerving even her, with only the echoing sounds of their footsteps to keep them company. Gudao was quiet, especially compared to the pink-haired rider who was hopping from one side of the hallway to the other in curiosity, much to the shielder's exasperation.

An eternity of walking came to an end as they reached a large circular room with a bright, golden dome for its ceiling. It glowed ethereally with no torches within its reach and depicted several motifs of Hassans across its elegant face. The familiar skull mask was etched into the center to cast judgement down upon the entering team like a gatekeeper. Within this room, the silence felt even more profound and heavy.

On the walls before them, the paths ahead opened up. Between them, countless, burned out candles rested with aged and moldy offerings from past pilgrimages; They remained ominously pitch black like gaping maws. These offered four ways to advance into the unknown abyss of the inner sanctums, should one choose not to run. With all of them looking identical, they were at the mercy of Cursed Arm to guide the way-

Cursed Arm stopped and stood straight. Arturia glanced to him slowly and noticed the once composed assassin shook. "…He's coming."

A sudden feeling of ominous dread filled the room. It snaked up their bodies with a deathly chill and whispered of a coming darkness. A breeze flickered the eternal torches until they were left as smoldering remnants. The room plunged swiftly into the abyss as the entrance's light offered the lone grasp of hope. Mashu shivered uncomfortably and shot to the master's side. "Senpai! Stay near us!"

"What's happening? There's nothing on the sensors!" Roman yelled over the intercom.

"Something powerful is here!" "Gudao, stay behind us!" "Where is it!?"

The entire group tensed, including the ever-enthusiastic rider. Drawing his sword, he took a defensive stance around Gudao along with the other Chaldean servants. Mashu braced her shield in the center, ready to stop any attack at a moment's noti- Shing! The shield stopped the blue wreathed slash that came from within the circle, yet the attacker could not be seen nor felt. The cold strike had manifested in the blink of an eye and was not followed after it was block… yet, Gudao felt different.

"Gudao! What happened to Gudao!? His life reading have gone flat!" The intercom buzzed.

"I… What…?" Gudao asked slowly as Mashu looked to him in confusion and growing horror. He was right. His heart beat had… stopped? He placed a hand over his heart, and listened desperately for its once rampant and scared beating. He was answered by nothing but his frigid skin. Slowly, he slid a hand onto his cold cheek and glanced to Mashu. She stared back in horror as her hand covered her mouth. Lancelot and Astolfo couldn't tear their eyes away either.

Gudao couldn't see it, but he'd grown terribly pale as his breath condensed in the air with every light exhale.

"Cursed Arm, what is the meaning of this!?" Arturia yelled doubtingly towards the assassin. He had not moved from the center of the room, even to protect Gudao-

The Hassan fell to the floor weakly as a blue manifestation of prana surrounded him. It grew like an ethereal flame that wreathed its body like an aura. "Cursed Arm!"

A deep voice resembling Cursed Arm's echoed through the room. "The disciple of magic, whom hails from the future… Thou hast finally arrived."

Though they did not speak, the servants all felt it. The overwhelming presence had amplified and was, without a doubt, a supreme being. Whatever was in the room was strong. It was powerful enough to put doubt into the skills of the servants present, making them question if they could even land a blow against the entity that slowly circled them like a vulture. Death seemingly watched them, and they could not even stare back defiantly.

The dread that filled them made Mashu tremble, though the rest held firm. She glanced to Gudao with worry as confusion and turmoil filled her heart. Upon seeing his deathly visage, her heart cried out as her resolve flared with newfound life. She focused her gaze, steeled her aching heart, and glared around the room for the culprit. She couldn't falter! Gudao was in trouble, and he needed her! He'd helped her so much along the way, and it was her duty to help him safely forward!

"Thy voices have reached... Mine blade acknowledges thy intent to save this era, but to step into mine temple grants only death…" the bodiless voice echoed like the voice of a divine imparting wisdom. "Thou must battle to wrest back the mage's life… Complete this ritual, and I shall reveal myself."

'But who to choose…' Unseen and unheard, the entity circled the group as they looked around the room. The shadow-clad being, wielding a blade darker than night itself, continued his predatory orbit. His visage was terrifying, and embofied death itself as skeletal accents adorned his reaper-like appearance beneath the shrouding abyss. The eyes of his skull mask flared with the same azure flame that wreathed Cursed Arm. His grieves clanked against the ground, though uttered not a sound of warning.

Finally, he came to a stop in front of a servant that interested him. Lancelot's eyes held back a wish for atonement and a will to redeem himself. His gaze was vigilant and sharp as he kept his guard raised. The shadow-shrouded founder noted the extinguished wick of madness within the berserker and nodded slowly; That wick only needed to be rekindled for the moment. The founder knew exactly who he was, and the smaller blonde near him. Holding his hand forward, he had no doubt he would make the best candidate for the trial among the group.

'Yes… Thou shalt be adequate to decide for whom this evening's bell tolls…'

o==(=======- -IV- -=======)==o

A patrol of knight hunters slowly crept along the mountain pass as they searched for further clues. This was one of the last known coordinates of the survivors who fled northward; They did a surprising job of hiding any trace of a fleeing village. However, there were sure to be slips, like a torn rag or half of a fresh footprint in the dry earth. The Chaldeans didn't make a base at the fallen village, so that meant they had to have come from some-

Any of their thoughts were silenced as one. An arrow deflected off the canyon wall opposite the road and sheared through the helmets of two hunters. Another flew straight through the armor of another pair like a hot knife through butter. The leader was struck by a final arrow that flew down from the sky and impaled him, as if a righteous god thrust the bolt from the heavens.

Within a second, the five hunters were killed simultaneously and without warning.

From the village's southern perch, Arash inspected his handiwork with a small smile and slowly nodded. Nobunaga sat on a nearby rock in open astonishment; Their own Arash had never done anything of that sort... in front of her at least. Bedivere, who was accompanying Rashid and Takisha, stood next to the pair as they tried to see what happened. However, there was no way the human eye would have been able to see the systematic execution from dozens of kilometers away.

Arash smiled. "One less patrol to worry about."

"Wow! You got the bad men from that far away? You really are the legendary Arash Kamangir, aren't you?" Rashid exclaimed in delight. Nobunaga wasn't going to admit it, but she was impressed as well.

"I would hope so," the male archer laughed before rubbing the top of the boy's head. "We are the same, of course!"

"So if you're the real Arash, is Arturia really the King of Knights?" Takisha asked with shining eyes.

"We will tell you the story sometime, but she is the one and only. The Lion King is nothing compared to her," Bedivere smiled. The three servants found themselves laughing as both kids were now jumping with unhindered excitement.

Takisha's eyes were glittering stars. "Arturia is so strong and beautiful! I can't wait to be a knight like her!"

"Nu-uh!" Rashid disagreed with a grin. "You should be like Arash! The kindest, bestest Archer ever!"

Bedivere and Arash laughed as the two children began squabbling over which servant was cooler. The tanned archer grinned towards Bedivere. "I guess I should feel honored for being compared to the King of Knights, eh, Bedivere?"

"You're quite the hero yourself," Bedivere reassured with a gentle smile.

Without a sound, Nobunaga got up from her seat and started her stroll to the northern lookout with a hummed tune on her lips. The pair watched her go as the children wandered a little further away to try and help the pair look for more patrols; The servants had jokingly pointed out the one Arash just eliminated was a wonderful, but honestly lucky, find. With the children out of ear shot, Bedivere turned to Arash earnestly. "…You didn't tell my King, did you?"

"I did not reveal or mention anything, as promised," Arash nodded and offered a sympathetic smile. "Once more, I'm sorry for guessing what that arm would really do to you."

"It injures me as I use it. There was likely no other way to interpret it."

"So will you be surprised if they figure it out too? That you're willing to end your life for the sake of your real king?" Arash asked quietly. His eyes studied the knight in front of him solemnly. "I don't agree with your method, Bedivere. A hero cannot protect and serve if they no longer live."

"I do not have the choice you have, Arash. The singularity and our success hinge upon my future sacrifice."

"I still think there must be another way. The best way to fight is one where everyone returns alive… That's why I like Gudao's strategies. They revolve around that."

Bedivere noted the archer's somber smile. Thanks to the Chaldeans having their own Arash, the knight was made aware of the circumstances of his noble phantasm. The irony in his words was not missed as he slowly nodded his head. He chuckled awkwardly, making the archer join him in turn.

"I hope it does not come down to sacrifice for you too, Arash. You're a hero who has protected this village for months. Their hearts would be crushed."

"Aye… but sometimes, we don't have a choice, as you say," he chuckled grimly, yet grinned his hopeful smile. "…But if it comes down to it… I guess we're the same, aren't we? Ready to lay down our lives for the sake of others… All I wish is that it won't be in vain if the time comes… and that those who I saved give my death meaning."

o==(=======- -V- -=======)==o

"I'm sorry, Tota…"

"Stop apologizing, will you?" the archer chuckled morbidly. "It's not like we can change what happens now."

"I promise to take you on a pilgrimage to India once we're out of here," she smiled softly.

"…I still don't know how you made it there with all your issues."

"Wukong and my other disciples helped me, like you! And with the guidance of Buddha, I can do anything!"

Xuanzang and Tota were chained within the same cell. Their banter had gone on for hours since their internment, with nothing better to do. The musty smell of the old bricks was suffocating and wrenched at their throats like the shackles wrung their wrists and ankles. The prison devices were fortified; Every second, they drained the servant of their magical energy to ensure they could not make any attempts at freedom. With the multitude of guards surrounding the place, and the potential Knight of the Round in residence, it's not like they stood much of a chance to begin with.

The bars in front of them were guarded by a stone monstrosity that sniffed the air occasionally like a dog. It was a living statue, and smelled with the pungent scent of the mythical leaves and vines that granted it motions. It was their only companion, yet the only sounds it granted was the low hum of grinding rock as it moved. Every so often, it would even turn down the hallway at even the simplest squeak of a rat, or the rattle of chains.

Its loud grating irritated the archer, who simply wanted to sleep after being apprehended by a frustrated Knight of the Round. It had clearly been able to listen to all their conversation, but if it cared or not was not clear; It simply stood watch as another tool created to help the knight enforcers. So long as the servants had made no suspicious moves, it would only guard endlessly.

Footsteps echoed from further down the hallway. The caster perked up at the hopeful sound of hopeful liberation. With puppy-like eyes, she stared curiously at the edge of the cell in anticipation. Click. Clack. Click. The sound of armor on stone grew more distinct with each passing second. As Sir Mordred's signature helm and armor came into view, Xuanzang smiled in delight.

"Sir Mordred! It's so good to see you! How's the Holy City?"

"As perfect as when you left, of course. It's father's city after all," the saber responded casually as she simply smashed the through the metal door. The louds clangs echoed down the hallway as her helmet dismantled. She approached the pair with a disarming, toothy grin. "I heard Sir Lancelot brought in some stray servants, but I didn't think it was you."

She nodded bashfully. "I was following the guidance of Buddha to inspect the fortress, but I didn't expect Sir Lancelot to be in such a bad mood!"

Mordred snickered. "Yes, well… he did have some issues with a new enemy of ours..."

That was an understatement. The humiliation of having his accompanying cavalry unit practically devastated was the current gossip among the many taverns of the Holy City. His reputation had been woefully tarnished, and even the Lion King looked down on him for his failure. To his credit, he had also survived the judgement from the lance and had been pardoned. The stain against his name remained, and he was more than interested in redeeming himself in any way possible.

"Might I ask... Are you possibly here to free us?" Tota asked flatly.

"Erm… sorta," she replied with her toothy grin. Xuanzang perked up quickly, only for it to be replaced by confusion as Clarent manifested in one of the saber's hands. With the other on her armored hip, the female knight brought the sword to rest casually over her shoulder.

Xuanzang's hopeful smile did not fade. "...Sir Mordred? What's wrong?"

"Nothing personal… but Sir Agravain ordered all stray servants to be killed on sight. Can't have ya' helping Chaldea, now can we?"

She blinked in confusion as her heart beat steadily in her chest. Beside her, Tota grew wild with disbelief and panic. That's when she finally felt understood as Sir Mordred grinned like a starved dog. Xuanzang screams echoed through the dungeon as Clarent mercilessly and suddenly plunged into her chest.

o==(=======- -VI- -=======)==o

The interior of the shack glowed purple from the prana-forged magic circle. Unlike the town, it smelled strangely of a distant field of flowers. Different collected herbs and alchemy items rested on the scattered tables pushed against the walls. Silence reigned supreme within as the endless low hum of the protecting bounded field drowned any outside commotion.

Gawain stared blankly at the ceiling of Medea's workshop. Though it was setup by the princess, it was now shared with Hans and Lord El Melloi II since their arrival the previous evening. While the usually scowling caster was outside making plans with Gabrielle, Hans was helping Medea with the accelerated healing process. It was possible for her to complete the healing by herself, but with the writer the process was shortened and less painful. Whether Gawain was happy or not about it was uncertain, though the princess hardly seemed to care what the knight thought.

To be fair, he had been rather quiet and absent of mind as he stared at the ceiling.

It was curious to her, as she took the occasional glance towards him. He seemed... troubled. At the very least he lay still within the magic circle as instructed, letting them complete their work without complication. Still, the look would creep into her mind. It was a stare she saw too many times recently, though it did not progress to the stage it had with Arturia. Though he was indeed conflicted, his eyes still gleamed with a fiery resolve.

He broke through the gentle drone emitted by the magic circle. "…If I may ask, how much longer?"

"Four more hours at most. This isn't one of the greatest leylines we've found," Hans replied plainly in his deep voice. He wiped his glasses on his battle attire, then put them back on while his other hand remained atop his special book. "You've been very cooperative, so this has gone smoothly."

"More cooperative for us, at least," Medea quipped as she allowed the thinnest slither of accusation slip into her tone. Truthfully, she was always extra cautious and scrutinizing on any man she could consider handsome. Her past wasn't a kind teacher, obviously. It was only fair his occasional gruff actions only rang the alarm bells and frustrated the nerves.

To her surprise, Gawain only continued to stare at the ceiling blankly and nodded sluggishly. His voice was a whisper. "…I've done a poor job of being a chivalrous knight."

Medea blinked in surprise while Hans shook his head and cleared his throat. "Only realizing this after you let your spilled anger gift you wounds?"

He narrowed his eyes. "...Sir Tristan dared to verbally assault my king and attempted to kill all of us."

"Yes, well, those are to be expected from an enemy," Hans voiced without hesitation. "Granted, you knights have never been very upstanding in your original tales either. Ah… but there seems to be a lot of misunderstanding in your legends... No one did properly portray King Arthur having breasts in the many iterations. Those witnesses were some of the blindest buffoons I've ever had to think about."

Medea chuckled at the writer's statement, though Gawain's brows furrowed in thought. "Misunderstanding..."

"Have they captured those memories wrong as well? Were all knights actually courteous heroes save for you and the ever obnoxious and prideful Mordred?"

Gawain fell silent as the word repeated in his mind like an aria. It was clear where he continued to stand in regards to Lancelot. They had been almost the best of friends, until his affair with Guinevere was revealed to the kingdom. He'd been infuriated by that, but it only grew when he dared to kill Gareth and Gaheris. It was only upon being a servant did he even try to consider the man's actions, and what led him to that point.

Had they not both been trying their hardest for their king, only to fall to the same lack of virtue? He tried to remind himself of that … yet seeing him smiling so carefree struck the wrong chord. All he could see was the flashes of him slaying his family, and the grudge had returned with a vengeance. Laden with guilt and frustration, his grudge easily lopped him in the same tarnished light as Mordred again.

…Yet Mordred was another story he thought he knew.

The crazy knight had been acting peculiar as of late. He was unaware if this was due to their proximity as first time teammates, but it was clear he was noticing more signs in recent memories. Her valiant efforts to protect him and Jeanne... The reckless save at the gate to protect him against master's orders... Countless gossip and praise from the hunting groups for her company and protection... Even her muttered words the previous evening.

It was clear the writers may not have been the only ones misunderstanding certain knights.

"Fallen silent? Tch... I bore more and more with my rants these days... At least Dantes and Nero had the politeness to listen."

"…Thank you, Hans," he spoke calmly.

The writer simply blinked in confusion. "That wasn't the reaction I was expecting for critiquing Camelot so heavily... but I appreciate it. You're welcome."

Gawain blinked. 'You were saying what?'

o==(=======- -VII- -=======)==o

Cursed Arm groaned from his new position at the side. He had been thrown there by the first, doomed to watch as his new allies fought each other for his actions. Groaning was all he could manage as his body refused to even budge for his own commands. He was a helpless spectator who couldn't even cheer.

Clang! Excalibur blocked an incoming strike from Arondight for the hundredth time in the past ten minutes.

"ARRRRRTHUUUUUURRRRRRR!" Lancelot roared with newfound madness as darkness caressed his form.

"Lancelot! Please! Snap out of it!" Arturia pleaded as she ducked beneath yet another slash from the hungry blade. She took another glance into his eyes filled with rage and despair, a sight she was all too familiar with from a past grail war. He practically foamed at the mouth as he brought his blade down-

Medusa's chain dagger had wrapped around the knight's arm to bring the bladed weapon to a halt. To her surprise, he pulled the weapon back to create slack. With the new window, he swung it fiercely and pulled the rider from her feet as her chain reeled her closer. Roaring in discontent, he mercilessly thrusted the blade towards the incoming woma-

Clang! He was forced jump high to avoid being speared by Astolfo's lance. It clattered off the ground as the rider glared at the maddened ally. He crouched against the wall, and burst forth. Growling in irritation, the berserker dashed towards Arturia upon landing, only to be blockaded by Mashu's shield.

She grit her teeth as Lancelot continued to swing wildly at the obstacle, sending ear-wrenching shockwaves of metal grating into her ringing ears. Arturia grit her teeth from behind Mashu before quickly jumping out. She dashed to meet Lancelot, and their blades slammed together like a deafening howl. They broke apart, and their waltz renewed. Any misstep was a grave injury, but the play continued without pause.

"Das ich alles was gut in-" the pale Gudao dropped to his knees as he felt his dead heart hitch in pain upon attempting a stronger spell's aria.

Mashu felt it ring through her heart; The pain she felt from her cherished master. His shriek of pain rang through her like an earthquake, and she hesitated between jumping into the growing chaos again or fleeing to his side. She wanted to help, but who should she…!? As he yelled again, she glanced to him in horror as the blurry figures of the dueling knights snaked across the room in their endless tango. "Senpai!"

"Keep... helping... Mashu…!" he grunted out as he clutched at his master's uniform. His eyes looked so dull and faded, and she could feel his agony wringing her heart.

Gripped with anxiety, she reluctantly turned back to the fight to see Astolfo dive in once more with the lance. He missed the agile berserker by a hair's breadth before being backhanded by the knight's free hand and sent flying into a nearby wall. The impact cracked a pillar, releasing dust into the air as the rider coughed out blood. Whatever the entity had done to bring back Lancelot's Mad Enhancement, it had also given him a significant parameter boost on par with a small blessing.

Medusa's chain swung once more for the knight's weapon, but was simply dodged. Grabbing the chain, the berserker pulled once more but the rider jumped into the air to alter her momentum. Landing against one of the walls of the room, she reeled in her bladed weapon before dashing towards the maddened knight once more. In tandem with Arturia's quick blade work, Medusa snaked her dagger and chain to lash at Lancelot's openings.

To the frustration of both, his swift reactions reforged a stalemate.

The entity watched in interest as Mashu and Astolfo rejoined the fight in a double charge. The shielder burst forward to ram the shield against Arondight, locking it in place. The arm was quickly seized by Medusa's chain while the pink-haired rider jumped up from behind Mashu. He brought his lance down in a perfect stab… But fate wouldn't let it land. In one swift movement, Lancelot released his weapon and dodged the lance by a hair. Grabbing Astolfo by the arm, he flung the rider into Medusa with a vengeance. The two slammed into the wall, dazed the pair, and shattered a bone or two as they groaned from the impact.

"Lancelot! Please stop this!" Mashu tried to coax the berserker, but he simply turned to Arturia with reawaken frenzy.

"GRAAAAHHHHH!"

"Sir Lancelot! Please do not do something you will regre-!" Arturia's eyes widened as she blocked yet another fierce blow from the maddened knight. Their blades locked as she stared at the angry visage mere inches from her face. If glaring were a weapon, it could have killed her instantly with its malice.

He leapt free from their lock and summoned the modern weapon. Mashu's eyes widened in horror as the Gatling gun began spinning up. Without hesitation, she jumped in front of the King of Knights and slammed her shield into the ground. A translucent barrier began forming around its width as the modern weapon shrieked to its apex. She made it just in the nick of time. "Faith be my shield… Lord Chaldeas!"

A storm of bullets raged into the air as Mashu's shield ignited with a blue sheen. A barrier spread to cover her and everything behind the shield. It slowly morphed to conceptualize a brick wall of translucent white. The unforgiving hail slammed against the front, but it held back the tide.

The maddened knight continued his onslaught without pause as round after round pattered off like rain on an umbrella. To the side, Medusa and Astolfo slowly righted themselves in an attempt to not draw attention; They were an instinctual glance away from becoming the preferred target of his noble phantasm. Even so, his rage blinded him, and he continued to try and break the wall. Behind Mashu's valiant defense, Excalibur swirled with wind.

Arturia shook her head as despair tugged at her sanity within. They had come to make an ally of the first Hassan, and instead they were being torn apart by her foremost knight… maddened once more by their potential ally. What sort of test was he trying to do that risked her master's very life? But she wouldn't fall into desolation; Not like she did before. She had to remain strong from now on, for her sake and theirs. She would not lose here!

With an explosive release of invisible air, Arturia flew through the air over Mashu's noble phantasm. It caught Lancelot's attention for a split moment to halt his onslaught. Aiming the weapon upward, the smoking barrels whirled back to-

Clang! The barrels' rotation ground to a halt from the intruding chain. The knight glared at Medusa as she hopped off the end of the glowing gun and swung her dagger at his leg. He jumped and released his hold on the weapon to bring forth Arondight once more. Arturia came down like an asteroid a split second after.

Astolfo dove to position himself between Gudao and Cursed Arm, ready to defend either at a moment's notice. As the master struggled to breath, he managed to force a spell's aria through his lips. His mystic code flashed as the reinforcing boost activated. Arturia flashed with a red aura as her strength was momentarily amplified. With the spell complete, Gudao collapsed to the ground in labored breathing and clutched at his heart as if it would eat him alive.

With a fierce yell, she forced Excalibur downward to send the berserker staggering on his feet. She closed the distance, fiercely swinging her blade to match his in turn. His downward chop was answered by a swift block, yet Arturia didn't falter under his strength; She now rivalled the empowered berserker. Forcing the blade to the side, she struck towards Lancelot's torso, but he leapt away swiftly. Swinging Arondight to carve her skull open, the king ducked and twirled beneath as the blade cut a few strands of golden hair. On landing, their blades crossed and locked once more.

Their dance matched blow for blow in ferocity, Mashu's mind raced for a way to break the stalemate before Gudao's spell wore off. The boost would only last for so long, and she had to find a way to quickly… Her eyes widened with an idea. Making sure the mad knight was still distracted, she kept her gaze on Arturia as she rushed around Lancelot's back. The saber noted Mashu's movements without giving it away in her eyes and held her savage yet intricate dance with Lancelot.

Mashu's yell from behind drew the berserker's attention. He swiftly spun to see the incoming shield dash that would knock him from his feet. He swung Arondight angrily to stop the- The sword sliced air as Mashu stopped her charge in a feint. With the new opening, she swiftly closed the gap before he could react and launched him upwards with her shield. The berserker flailed into the air and tumbled erratically.

Arturia filled her legs with molded prana, then detonated it in a fierce burst that sent her hurtling towards the airborne servant. Even in his unbalanced state, the berserker swung to stop the strike… which was exactly what Arturia wanted. With a fierce yell, she slashed the air in front of her with all her might. Her blow overpowered his grip just enough to wrench Arondight from his grasp. The dark blade spun out of control and implanted itself high into the ceiling.

"ARRRRRRRRTHUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!"

The King of Knights soared past him with her momentum, drawing the angry berserker's growl and following glare. She looked back towards the ground and saw Medusa take advantage of the opening. The rider's chain wrapped around the berserker's torso like a lasso. He grasped at it just as Astolfo landed beside his fellow rider. They swiftly yanked on the weapon with their combined might. As they dodged away from the falling berserker, Astolfo cheered. Lancelot slammed into the ground before swiftly tumbling towards the wall.

Before the knight could push himself up, Mashu swiftly dashed into the wall and sandwiched him between it and her shield. The weapon pinned him to his spot, causing his vision to spiral as Astolfo dashed alongside the demi-servant with his lance at the ready. There would be no need, as the berserker only groaned in his pinned state.

"I'm so sorry, Lancelot…" Mashu whispered remorsefully as she used her body weight to continue her entrapment. Arturia finally landed behind her, joining the demi-servant with her solemn expression.

The dark aura of madness that surrounded the knight swiftly faded from around the shield, and stopped Astolfo from spearing with his lance. Mashu initially panicked but quickly saw it did not surround her, but rather dissipated into the air. Looking down at the dazed knight, she noted his groans lost their wrathful undertones. As the man's complexion slowly returned from the brink of absolute white, Mashu dared to give a small smile in understanding.

With a sudden realization, she turned towards Gudao to see him taking large breaths. His face was flushed with color again! He looked at his hands from his sprawled position on the ground, but slowly smiled with relief. Chuckling lightly, the master sat up to observe the final results before catching Mashu's concerned look. With a reassuring smile, he winked towards the shielder and mouthed a silent 'I'm fine.' Her face bloomed with happiness as her heart skipped a beat.

"Mashu! Mashu! I think Lancelot's sane again!" Astolfo cried while Medusa kept the chain taut.

To the side, Cursed Arm slowly stretched his aching muscles as he felt tingling across his body. He could once more move as he pleased with the absence of the fiery, ethereal force. With a breath of relief, he stood up to observe the final results once more. He let out a pleased chuckle that things may turn out alright.

"…Mashu? Astolfo?" Lancelot's pained voice came from underneath the shield. His arms and legs slowly moved with life.

With no hesitation, Mashu stepped back, released her trap, and gasped as Lancelot slid down the wall in a heap. A trickle of blood had formed on the side of Lancelot's mouth as Arturia ran over in shame. The berserker coughed as Mashu quickly ran to help their master while the king watched over her knight. Medusa gently unsummoned her chain as Astolfo surveyed his injuries. While Lancelot slowly started to push himself up, it became clear whatever had controlled him also prevented any serious injuries; The trickle of blood seemed to be from a bit tongue.

His voice shook with growing regret. "My King… I'm sorry… I attacked you once more when-"

"Don't talk, Lancelot… It's alright. You were being controlled," Arturia reassured with a small smile. Cursed Arm quickly made his way over to the Chaldeans as she shook her head slowly. "I know you would not have done any of that. Not anymore."

"I would never..." he grit his teeth in both anger and disgrace. He would not despair, however. "But to let them have so much sway..."

The king shook her head. "We've made it through that ordeal, and that's what matters. Rather, we should be worrying over your possible injuries."

"Is Lancelot alright?" Gudao asked as Mashu brought him over with her arm wrapped around his waist. The master's breathing was quick and he was covered in sweat, but the paleness was far from memory. His arm rested weakly on Mashu's shoulders, but his hopeful smile was a breath of fresh air.

"I believe... we should ask you that, master," Lancelot dared to joke between his own labored breaths. Mashu smiled in complete relief for both of them.

…Then the chill ran rampant through the air again. Mashu shivered as the voice boomed. "Thy performance was commendable… As just reward, I release mine veil."

The group turned as blue flames of prana erupted from the ground in the center of the room. As soon as they appeared, the manifested energy vanished to reveal the armored, cloaked reaper. He stood with shoulders square and his jet-black armor shining at the edges from the gentle illumination above. His piercing eyes gazed towards them as he kept his gauntlets folded atop one another on the hilt of his menacing blade.

His presence was overwhelming. The feeling of being before this individual left everyone temporarily paralyzed. There was no doubt in his strength should his magical energy signature serve as any indication. Whoever stood before the Chaldeans was a force to be reckoned with, and someone no doubt capable of standing against a storm; They gazed upon a force of nature incarnate, at a manifestation of death… and it stared back through the azure flame in its eyes.

Once more, his voice filled the room. "I am the first Old Man of the Mountain, Hassan-i-Sabbah… The one who founded the order and established the tradition of name."

"…A swordsman?" Mashu pondered out loud. Arturia and Lancelot were equally as confounded. He was an assassin, right?

The intercom on Gudao's wrist buzzed. "What's more surprising is his magical energy signature! It's off the charts! There's no way this assassin is not a gran-"

"Cease thy crass prattle." the being roared as it swiftly lifted his blade and slashed the air. The space where his blade flew illuminated in blue prana and ignited in a fiery azure flash before dissipating. Some servants tensed to defend, though their unnerved instincts persisted; Should he choose to attack, they would be swiftly overwhelmed without a chance to fight. "Thou's spoken words only mar the foolhardy courage of this young magus and his contracts!"

Gudao looked down at his intercom as it gave three consecutive beeps. His eyes widened. "The connection to Chaldea has been cut…"

o==(=======- -VIII- -=======)==o

"Tesla, anything!?"

The archer shook his head. "Sorry, Doctor… I can't seem to re-establish a connection! Whatever that… servant was, it really is as powerful as the readings show. It just cut the line completely!"

Roman cursed under his breath as he paced back and forth within the control room. Some employees followed his motions while others kept working in vain. They all felt concern. The master and several servants were left unmonitored with the powerful founder as their overhead scans failed to produce results. The doctor groaned as Tesla sighed in frustration.

The Indian employee ended the silence. "Should we contact Gabby to inform her of the situation?"

Roman continued his pacing and struggled not to bite on his finger nails in absolute concern for the master. He stopped and looked towards the main control panel. Slowly, he shook his head.

"We should believe Gudao can make... it… their ally. Give it ten minutes before we try again, and if that doesn't work, we'll call Gabby."

o==(=======- -IX- -=======)==o

The founding Hassan glanced over the group. Upon the regal entity's eyes landing on the other assassin, Cursed Arm quickly took a knee and bowed towards him. "Great Founder! Forgive our shameless visit of the temple! I have brought the courageous one who fights against the Lion King! I beg you, for the sake of the orders' and Holy Land's future, to help us in our time of need! We need one more fang to reach the Lion King!"

"Of this, I have already understood," the powerful servant professed before looking directly at the male master. "Is thy wish for the Lion King's head, magus?"

Gudao paused for the briefest of seconds only to glance towards Arturia. She glanced back with resolve and concern, and he turned back to the founder with firm eyes. "I… do not personally wish for the Lion King's head… I wish only for the singularity to be resolved however necessary."

"Gudao!?" Cursed Arm exclaimed as his eyes shot towards him. Several other servants joined him in surprise.

"However…" Gudao continued calmly. "If it means she must be removed, I will not hesitate to wish it so. I just want to make things right by the best means."

The founding Hassan stood silent for a few seconds' suffocating eternity. "…Thou requires but a single fang? Does one believe that would suffice to move an ocean?"

"If it were but the Hassans and a few servants, I would say it would not be… but Gabby and I have a host of powerful friends we can call upon. Your aid would be a precious gift to ensure the casualties do not rise further. You'd be the last key for a brighter victory."

"As I understand… yet, thou does not at the moment, young magus…"

The group remained silent as the assassin seemed to stand straighter. "Thou must seek the final knowledge one needs… That which reveals the true nature of the Lion King… The nonsense of the Sun King… and the beginning of everything. Seek the truth, and be enlightened."

"The true intentions…" Arturia whispered to herself and unknowingly drew a brief glance from the mighty Hassan.

"And once we have done so?" Gudao asked brazenly.

"Then this blade shall thunder across the bastions of the Holy City… Mine black robes shall be as night to swallow the Holy City in abyss… Thou will have mine sword."

"But where should we look for that, mister First Hassan?" the male rider piped up, but drew an incredulous look from Mashu and Cursed Arm.

"We should be more respectful to the founder of their order, Astolfo… Maybe call him King Hassan or something more fitting," Gudao requested, but earned a surprised glance from Mashu.

"Senpai… What if he doesn't like that-"

"King Hassan, so one says…? …Yes… Its sound is pleasant to mine ears…" The founder spoke with some pride, much to the group's surprise. Cursed Arm was especially taken back. "The knowledge thou seeks slumbers in the deserts to the south west, in a place known as the Atlas Institute… That is the last gift I impart this day."

Gudao and Mashu's eyes widened in recognition. As Gudao made mental plans to talk with Lord El-Melloi II upon returning to the village, Cursed Arm stood up from his position at the older Hassan's silent beckoning. Without a sound or word, he walked towards King Hassan and knelt before him. The regal assassin nodded towards his underling as Cursed Arm bent his neck for him to see. Obediently, and without question, he awaited his fate as King Hassan raised his blade in a show of execution, much to the horror of the Chaldean Team.

"Wait- No! No, no, no, what are you doing!?" Astolfo cried out.

"Do you mean to execute him!?" Lancelot yelled out as he stood up from his spot, but his muscles protested with soreness upon action. He groaned.

"Mine face is the death of the Old Men, and mine sword their judgement. I am the Old Man of the Mountain to the Old Men of the Mountain, and thus, the Hassan that ends Hassans…" he proclaimed loudly while his blade fell wreathed with grim, azure flames. "When the Hassans are corrupted, fall, or lose their way, I deliver judgement to those undeserving. For generations of Hassans, the last thing that they view is I. None find respite from mine blade… Therefore, the only ones who may gaze upon the First… are the true Old Men of the Mountain who answer to fate!"

"So you would end his life for what!? He has not fallen! He seeks only to save his people!" Arturia yelled in disbelief.

"For the Hassan of this era to come seek help is one's declaration that they have lost their right to the sacred title… And thus, thy will be deprived of the face of a Hassan. Cursed Arm led you understanding the consequences of his actions, yet he spoke not a word to thy ears... He was doomed the instant he strode through these halls!"

"What kind of individual kills their underlings for simply asking for help!?"Arturia's anger rose as she slowly walked towards the two.

"The one who laid the creed and molded the foundation. Rest thy concerns elsewhere, rather than a temporary ally who gladly meets thy fate."

"It is because he is a treasured ally that I speak up for him!" she countered firmly. In the few days spent among him and his people, she saw it. It was a beautiful picture for an assassin with such a frightening visage; He unknowingly proved her beliefs of him wrong to show he was another person, like any of them. His heart sang, wept, and tired for his people. He worked restlessly for their sake, and they loved him in turn… To rob them of such a proud and honest man was…!

"He is but another assassin. Do knights not admonish those who hide in the shadows and wage war from the dark?"

"Cursed Arm Hassan has been a courteous host, friend, and defender, with his only mistake being he came to you! He had the best intentions, yet, for his actions, you wish the people's guardian to be executed when he can continue to help us! To help them! Why do you not simply guide them back onto your path if they stray!?"

King Hassan met her glare firmly. "Has thou guided one's lost flock when they went astray, King of Knights?"

Arturia froze instantly. The chill that ran down her spine was one of realization and disgrace: King Hassan was right. Her choice to execute Guinevere for the publicized affair with Lancelot... Her choice to stop Mordred's rebellion through crossed swords before words... Her inability and neglect to let her knights see eye to eye once more within the halls of Chaldea... King Hassan was right. It was exactly how she acted, when ruling or not.

The first merely continued. "Mine blade trims to prevent undesirable growth from taking root, marring the name of Hassan for generations."

King Hassan stared at Arturia, noting her sudden loss of resolution. He caught Lancelot staring at her back in complete concern and observed the worried expression on Mashu's face. Looking down towards the Hassan knelt obediently at his feet, the assassin pondered. The King of Knight's defense of Cursed Arm was both valiant and compassionate in intent, even if it was shattered faster than his blade took lives… But she did make him think. At the very least, there was no harm in taking the assassin's head at a later time.

"…Raise thy head, Cursed Arm Hassan."

"...Great Founder?"

"Thou resigns oneself too quickly to one's fate, while others valiantly defend thou… yet, there is a way to still redeem thou's disgrace. Aid thy newfound allies. Help them defeat the Lion King… only then shall mine blade thirst for thy head."

Arturia was growing hopeful, but soon found herself clenching her fists at his last declaration. She was hopeless once more against another king, and it angered her. He had been near dismissive of her and even stabbed at a weak point swiftly and precisely. Calming her nerves, she looked towards Cursed Arm as he stood up and bowed in gratitude. At the very least, she had bought another precious comrade extra time.

Cursed Arm sighed in relief. "You are gracious and kind, Great Founder… I will complete my task upon the name of the Old Men of the Mountain!"

King Hassan simply nodded towards the assassin before turning to Gudao one final time. "Seek the answers in Atlas. Time is one's greatest foe… Before the Lion King's spear reaches its final form, the holy object must be returned…"

With a column of blue fire that colored the room in its brilliant hue, King Hassan was gone. The room fell silent once more, though the pressure of his presence had vanished completely; The room felt warm like the lands beyond. With a small beep, the intercom flashed green and showed a stable link was once more established. Relieved it wasn't permanent, Gudao quickly began checking his servants for any serious injuries and seeing what should be patched before their return flight.

A few paces away, Arturia was drowning in her own thoughts.

She was made a hypocrite but moments ago, but at the same time it reinforced what she must do. It wasn't enough to bring the Lion King to justice if her own knights remained at odds; Her friends insisted she needed to do something, but only now was her resolve and path clear as day. She had to help get them to see eye to eye once more, for their sake and not her own. She had to speak with all of them, and right what she had wronged. They were her Knights of the Round Table, and she would fix what has been tarnished.

Thoughts of King Hassan's final words had gone over the other's heads, but not for Gudao who remained in silent recognition. Arturia was too lost in her own thoughts to realize the emphasis on his last words. Time was truly against them, and if this spear was the Lion King's main weapon, then they would need to attack her before she reached even greater heights of power. The large craters that tarnished the landscape were stark reminders that echoed in the master's mind.

If the Lion King was already capable of that, then how much more destructive could she become with this spear? They needed to get to the answers immediately, but there was one obstacle that needed to be removed first. He clicked the transmitter on his intercom on upon realizing the connection was operational again. Roman's concerned voice fired through, "Gudao!? Gudao! What happened? And where's that servant?"

"I'll answer your questions after, but I need you to relay a message to Gabby for me."

o==(=======- -X- -=======)==o

The masters and Lord El-Melloi II were currently discussing their plans to attack the fortress to the west. There would be no way to get past it in a timely manner, and it served as a staging ground for the Lion King's troops against the mountain people. The reasons to take it out far outweighed the risk, and so they worked into the early evening to forge a strategy for tomorrow's attack. Thanks to Kiritsugu's report, they had a clear layout of the battlefield and could plan accordingly; The chosen team members were already sent notifications before dinner.

While Arturia sat across from Lancelot as he stood guard at the main gate, the two ate their meals. The Saracens were grateful they didn't need to miss a meal thanks to the servant volunteers, and soon disappeared in the direction of the feast tables. Now in private, Arturia took her first step towards her new goal; Her hesitation was laid to rest by the hands of her resolve. Talking with all of them at once as if it were the round table was too impersonal, so she decided for a direct approach.

With a small sigh, she broke the initial ice to see where her first knight stood. "Are you sure you're alright for the assault tomorrow, Lancelot?"

"I'll be fine, my king. Hans' little connection will heal my ribs by the morning." His mind flashed to earlier, where he could only watch through his own eyes as madness forced his muscles to act. The pain of watching him attack his king once more raked at his mind. He winced. "…More importantly, you are sure I caused no further harm…? I swore to redeem myself, and yet…"

"You did not, my knight. Be at ease. Once more, it was not your fault…" Arturia replied with a reassuring smile. She let the seconds pass by in growing, comfortable silence before she took one last breath to sharpen her budding hopes. "Though, I hope I have not been worrying you too much."

"I beg your pardon, your majesty?"

"I was aware you and Guinevere often talked in private. You worried greatly over my suffering… Though she is not here, I hope I am not causing you as much concern again."

Seconds passed in silence as the small fire crackled between them.

"I… I have been worried for your wellbeing, of course. I always will be," he paused before he continued. He placed his dinner plate down. "You have been forced to fight against your own knights and this… this atrocious parody of your kingdom… I cannot imagine the turmoil you must feel, your majesty."

"It has been beyond difficult, yes… but many have helped me through and continue to do so. You are one of them. Gabby told me of your actions in stopping Gawain and Mordred's fight," Arturia spoke softly with an appreciative smile. Still, she sighed, "I don't think I ever thanked you properly for that. It was my responsibility as king to handle it, but you stepped in first with their best interest in mind."

"It was only one event… Dare I say, Bedivere has done much more to earn your thanks than I ever have… I have regrettably only kept my distance and held my tongue to keep the peace. They are actions hardly worthy or praise... It only created fragile respite."

"Yet you continued to be civil towards both of them when they acted harshly in turn. Arash told me of how honorable he found you... He applauded you for it, and it warmed my heart. For your determined attempts to make things right, you earned that praise, as you have mine."

He finally chuckled. Arash certainly was impressed by what he did, and made no attempts to hide it. He was always so genuine in Chaldea too.

"Then I will continue to act with the best interests of Chaldea and my fellow knights in mind," he pledged once more, placed his hand to his heart, and offered a small nod towards his king. "I will continue to do so, even after I feel I have finally redeemed myself."

"You've already passed that point many times… my friend," Arturia spoke the last line with a fond smile. "Thank you for being here to support me in this trying time."

Lancelot paused. His tongue struggled to find words to pronounce, but the expression answered for him. He bore a genuine smile as he looked towards his king… his friend, and bowed slightly. The word rang through his head like spring chimes in April. "As always, it is my honor, your majesty."

The rest of their watch passed in the most comfortable conversation they've ever shared to date.