I Don’t Want to Be a Heroic Spirit

Although the misunderstanding between them had been cleared, the current relationship between Mordred and Artoria was… awkward, to say the least.

Artoria had made it clear that she never harbored hatred toward Mordred, and the destruction of Britain was the result of many factors. Still, Mordred had undeniably been the direct cause.

Artoria's forgiveness only deepened Mordred's discomfort. It was the same dynamic Lancelot had faced.

If Artoria had punished Lancelot for his betrayal, he might have found some solace. But Artoria had chosen to forgive him, and this forgiveness turned into an unrelenting weight of guilt that tormented Lancelot, giving birth to the Berserker version of him.

Mordred, known as the "Rebellious Knight," had dedicated her existence to opposing Artoria, carrying the mission of destroying the king she admired. Her participation in the Holy Grail War was driven by a single goal: to use the Grail to travel back to the moment Artoria pulled the Sword of Selection and take it for herself, proving her worth as king.

But now that their misunderstanding had been resolved, her purpose seemed to have vanished. She no longer knew what to do.

Artoria, too, was at a loss for how to approach Mordred.

To be fair, the root of Mordred's resentment—that Artoria had never acknowledged her—wasn't entirely unfounded.

Although Artoria had married Guinevere, it was a political marriage with no romantic or physical relationship between them. After all, two women couldn't consummate a marriage in the traditional sense. Then again… wasn't Mordred supposed to be Artoria and Morgan's child? How had Morgan even managed that?

When Mordred revealed her identity as Artoria's child, the latter had been utterly bewildered.

It wasn't Mordred's identity as Morgan's offspring that troubled Artoria—it was the sheer shock of having a child she hadn't known existed.

Who wouldn't be alarmed if someone who looked like their spitting image suddenly appeared and claimed to be their child?

For a time, Artoria avoided Mordred entirely, unable to process how to interact with her supposed "only child"—especially one who was already fully grown.

If Mordred had been a baby, Artoria might have had time to adjust, building a parental bond while raising her. But instead, she'd been thrust into the deep end.

Their unresolved tensions escalated into open conflict, leading to their mutual demise during the Battle of Camlann. The misunderstanding lingered even in death.

Now that it had been resolved, the questions left unanswered resurfaced.

But this time, Artoria couldn't run away.

The last time she avoided the issue, Britain fell. This time? Letting her hesitations threaten Chaldea was unthinkable.

That really would be the end of me.

For now, both she and Mordred needed time to reflect and process.

Artoria turned to Kairi Shishigou.

"I plan to head to the Red Faction's base next. In the meantime, please take care of Mordred."

With a polite nod, Artoria vanished, streaking through the night sky like a reverse shooting star.

"She's… gone."

Kairi shaded his eyes with one hand, watching the golden trail left by Artoria's departure. It was hard to miss under the night sky.

"…But seriously, asking me to 'take care of her' without even consulting me first? Not that I could say no—I am her Master, after all."

His voice was tinged with resignation.

After Artoria left, Kairi found himself alone in the desolate wasteland. Only the massive crater remained as evidence of the battle.

The temperature dropped quickly now that the fighting was over, and the sudden chill made Kairi shiver. He instinctively reached for his cigarettes, only to remember he'd lost them earlier.

"Guess I'll go buy another pack in town once it's morning. Hope they have my brand. If not… well, that'd suck."

Without his usual vice to distract him, Kairi shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the horizon. The faint glow of dawn was beginning to appear.

Another night survived…

"She's gone, you know."

His tone was casual, almost as if he were talking to himself. "No goodbyes, nothing. She's completely gone now. So, are you still going to hide?"

"…"

There was no verbal response, but Kairi knew his words had been heard.

After a minute or two, the air to his left shimmered, and Mordred's figure slowly materialized.

Even after stepping into view, she remained silent. For someone as outspoken as Mordred, this was deeply unusual.

"Not going to chase after her? She's already far away by now."

"Shut up!"

Mordred clicked her tongue irritably. Even someone unfamiliar with her could sense her frustration.

Perhaps Mordred was simply too easy to read.

At the moment, she resembled a hedgehog bristling with quills—her hostility was less about aggression and more about self-defense. Kairi suspected that even as her Master, if he said the wrong thing, she might very well lash out.

"Saber, let me tell you a story."

"I'm not interested."

"Once upon a time…"

Ignoring her protest, Kairi began his tale.

"There was a family that fell into decline for reasons no one could explain. Desperate to save it, the family's patriarch made a deal with a mysterious entity. The deal restored the family's former glory—but at a price."

"The curse of that deal was passed down to the family's descendants. Every child born to the male heir would die shortly after birth."

"To continue the bloodline, the family's last surviving magus took in a distant relative as his adopted daughter. He cherished her deeply, offering her everything he had. Those were the happiest, most fulfilling days of his life."

"But happiness didn't last. During the transfer of the family's magical crest, the daughter died. The crest carried a curse that poisoned those who inherited it."

"Determined to save the family from extinction, the magus began wandering in search of a suitable heir."

---

Ahem! Gather close, esteemed audience! Do you comprehend the privilege of basking in my radiance? Truly, you're witnessing history in the making—a performance unparalleled in the annals of Fontaine!

Ah, but don't get distracted! Let me be clear: this brilliance isn't conjured from thin air. No, no, no! It requires effort, dedication, and… well, a touch of your generosity. If you fancy being part of something truly extraordinary, do step forward here: [patreon.com/WiseTL].

Oh, but wait! You're probably wondering, "Furina, how can someone as magnificent as you need assistance?" To that, I say: why deny mortals the honor of contributing to such greatness? Supporting me is supporting art, and who doesn't want to say they were instrumental in a legend's rise?

Now, off you go. Make your offerings, and perhaps, perhaps, I'll acknowledge you in my next soliloquy!

— Furina ✨