Chapter 68 - Hey, That's Hueco Mundo You're Walking Out Of


As the joust began in earnest, and the air filled with cheers and jeers, a lone figure took advantage of the crowd's excitement to begin to slip away.

Few of the gathered knights and lords would have normally noticed the absence of a young squire, and with it being the joust to finally select the new King who would unite the Britons and drive out the Saxon invaders, the blonde in their simple clothes, unqualified to even participate in the joust (let alone being favored to be a contender), barely merited even a first glance as they snuck out of the arena.

If any had, however, none would have missed the purpose in their stride as they left the grounds and strode towards the church-owned land where they'd all been gathered in the morning.

Before the joust, all the lords and knights had tried, as many had tried in the years since the death of King Uther Pendragon, to prove they were worthy, by the criteria set forth by the former king's trusted advisor, the Magus of Flowers.

Once again, however, regardless of who had approached the Stone of Selection, however, the result was the same, as it had always been the same.

The dazzling naked sword, still pristine and breathtaking despite having been exposed to the elements for over a decade and a half, would not budge.

No matter whose hand gripped the gilded ornate blue hilt, upon which was inscribed in gold lettering "Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone is rightwise king of all England", no one could pull out the Sword of Choosing from its resting place.

Or rather, if one had appeared who could have pulled it, then the joust would have never occurred.

The attempts of the assembled nobles and knights in the morning had been more theatre than anything else, to prove to everyone that the sword would not choose, and the expected method of selection, the joust, was thusly a necessity.

The wind gently swept through the grass as the young squire finally reached the deserted field, and laid eyes upon the gleaming golden sword.

Her fists clenched, and she began marching towards it in a brisk stride.

Caliburn.

Her birthright.

What she'd been training for, since she'd been old enough to swing a sword.

What they'd trained her for.

Everyday the people of the land suffered, as they had since the Empire had collapsed, and the Dark Ages had begun.

The country needed its King, for only a King could save the country.

She came to a stop in front of the sword, crushing the weakness, the doubts, in her human heart.

As her hand reached for the blade, however, a gentle voice interjected: "You should consider it thoroughly before you pick that up."

Artoria Pendragon didn't turning around, lest her nerve fail her, but she did pause at the words of her godfather.

The white-haired man smiled, seeing that his pupil was seriously considering his advice, and continued: "If you pick up that sword, you will cease to be human, you know?"

Artoria nodded, knowing that Merlin spoke the truth.

She'd known that crucial fact, ever since she'd known about her birthright.

To be King would be to become an existence that could kill everyone, to protect everyone.

It was a thought that had haunted the idealistic noble girl for every waking moment, and led to many a sleepless night.

Not a day had passed, that she had not feared it.

Merlin then showed her the fate would befall her, to bear the resentment of all her people, and to die a miserable death, before asking if she was fine with that.

"Many people were smiling." Artoria answered confidently, finding comfort in the vision that he had shared with her. "I do not believe it will be a mistake."

But where her hand should have gripped Caliburn's hilt without hesitation...

Where she had thought herself able to bury her fear, along with her other emotions, and become the perfect king...

Here, apprehension stayed her hand, as the other images in the vision replayed themselves in her mind.

Isolation.

Ruin.

Death.

In the distance, as if to spit on the wavering resolve of the girl who would be King, the cheering grew louder, as the festivities grew, and the spectators watched the cavalry with much revelry and excitement.

Merlin didn't miss it, and before Artoria could regain her nerve and draw the Sword of Choosing, he asked: "Would you like me to summon a familiar to aid you?"

"..." Artoria's skeptical response died in her throat, as hope threatened to overflow in her heart.

"Every miracle has a price." Merlin warned gravely, though he pulled out the instructions a wandering old man had passed him.

Truly, even with his Clairvoyance, he couldn't understand the Second Magic was doing sometimes, or why he was interfering with events. Then again, Merlin did also interfere from time to time, if only to guide the fate of humanity, so perhaps saying anything about Kaleidoscope was hypocritical of the half-incubus.

Artoria thought it over, before quickly coming to a decision.

She did not know if she could alter her fate, but she knew this.

To give her people the prosperity they deserved, to save everyone that she could... she needed to be the perfect king.

If a having an additional advisor would allow her to be a better king... was it not right and just to swallow her pride and accept the aid?

Of course, this was for the sake of the country, not for herself!

"Anything, for the Kingdom." Artoria finally said, accepting her reasoning.

"The familiar you summon will likely be a Heroic Spirit, Artoria." Merlin explained, holding out a pair of rainbow-colored polygonal gems, like two pyramids fused together, as he attempted to recall what he'd been told. "The spirits of heroes who achieved great deeds in life, the bodies they will be summoned in will be composed primarily of Ether, and the familiar will need to be sustained by your Od. Maintaining their continued existence will be a drain on your magical core."

"Anything, for the Kingdom." Artoria firmly repeated.

"Very well." Merlin nodded, pulling out a scroll from his white robes. "I will demonstrate a summoning, before showing you what to do."

Artoria watched eagerly.

Merlin felt like showing off, like a father being watched by his daughter as he did something impressive.

Why couldn't Artoria have stayed this cute and innocent again?

Oh, right... the fate that he had inflicted upon her.

As necessary as it was, he couldn't deny hating it.

Well, there was nothing more he could do now, but do what he could to ensure her reign was peaceful and prosperous, for as long as it could be.

He recalled the magus's instructions, as he drew the magical energy out of the saint quartz in his hand, which subsequently lost its luster and crumbled to dust as he channeled it into complicated glyph on the scroll.

The glyph glowed blue, registering the summoning.

There was a flash of silvery light, that forced the two to cover their eyes.

Finally, as the light dimmed, they beheld the result of Merlin's efforts.

A plate rested on the floor in front of them, filled with some strange gelatinous white cubes, liberally coated with a bright red sauce, with chopped vegetables sprinkled atop it.

"Merlin... what is that?" Artoria asked, wide-eyed, watching as the steam wafted off of it.

Merlin looked away from Artoria, hiding his burning face, as he answered: "It appears to be a dish of some sort."

Artoria took a cautious sniff, before recoiling as her eyes watered and her nose burned. "Are you sure tis not a weapon of some sort?!"

Merlin coughed, and hastily changed the subject: "Anyway, child, that would be a summoning. Now, hold this crystal."

Artoria cautiously obeyed her godfather's instructions, hoping that her familiar would not be some foul-smelling food.

"And with your other, gently touch the hilt of Caliburn. We shall use that as a catalyst for this summoning."

Artoria apprehensively complied.

"Now, draw the energy out of the crystal, and focus it into the scroll."

As the squire followed Merlin's words, and the glyph began glowing blue, Artoria couldn't help but add in one thought, one desperate wish from the young girl who had been raised to forsake both her femininity and her humanity for the sake of her country, and who had seen her destiny play out first-hand.

Please... God, send me someone who will be able to understand me.

Her wish poured into the summoning ritual along with the magical energy, and it began to search throughout the different timelines, the different parallel dimensions, for a Heroic Spirit who could both be a rightful King of England and understand the heart of the caster carrying out the spell.

And it found someone.

Scanning through the target's life, the spell found a person driven by noble ideals, tested by the worlds, who was both well-regarded as a King of England and seen as inhuman and isolated for his prowess and actions.

Satisfied, it began looking through the timeline, searching for a suitable moment to propose a contract.

And as the boy lay bleeding to death in Beacon Tower, a faint glyph appeared under him...

Right before it was overloaded by a deluge of divine energy from Ruby Rose's silver eyes twelve nanoseconds later, spiriting the boy away to a different destination entirely.

Undeterred, the spell tried again with the magical energy it still had, and found another suitable moment, as the target was in an afterlife.

A faint glyph appeared under the now-older boy's feet as he sliced through a beam of spiritual energy in Hueco Mundo, right before the one-armed giant was about to punch him.

Before the spell could formally propose a contract, however, the older boy took a step back onto it, blocking a punch from the one-armed giant.

Deciding that the act counted as consent for all intents and purposes, the spell began to draw the target towards the caster from between dimensions...

And as an apprehensive Merlin and Artoria watched, a blonde swordsman in red armor was punched out of the scroll by a one-armed giant with a glowing orange fist, cursing about his footing suddenly disappearing as he did so.


Author's Note: Truly, such a waste... that Bleach wasn't the final world.

And with this, we've come to the end of the volume, so allow me to both apologize and clarify a few things.

Yes, the final world is, in fact, FATE, specifically Britain just before Artoria draws Caliburn (or as close as I can get without knowing much about the world of FATE).

Yes, I did really go through all the effort of making a Bleach crossover chapter (and reading up all of those terms and figuring out how Aura and Jaune would interact with them) just for this fake-out.

No, I have never seen any FATE-related stuff before.

No, I don't know much about King Arthur either.

No, I do not (and will never) play FGO, for the simple sake of my wallet if nothing else.

No, I barely understand any of the mechanics in the FATE universe.

Yes, I am still going to have the final world be this anyway, because clearly, I've already gone so far off the rails that I may as well keep going, and see where we end up crashing.

No, I don't need to be institutionalized.

Jokes aside, I did mean everything I said about Bleach, and I do think that a crossover between RWBY and Bleach could definitely be interesting... but the power creep and loads and loads of characters, when I already have so many to juggle, make it unfeasible for this story. Someone really should do that crossover someday... and that someone probably isn't going to be me.

Instead, if (for some odd reason) anyone decides to take any inspiration from some random shitty rambler... well, by all means, go ahead. Feel free to "piggyback off this story to write (your) own worlds in, in (your) own fanfictions". I hardly own any of the original intellectual properties I use, obviously, at any rate.

Now, if you'll excuse me... I'm going to disappear for a while, to actually figure out what the hell I'm getting myself into (and get an air tank as well, because I'm clearly in way over my head).

Also, when did this story hit over 1000 favorites?!

Something something usual post-volume ko-fi plug something something usual ko-fi disclaimer something something don't expect any updates for a while.