Shinji Matou at Your Service

A brilliant radiance shone, not the deadly judgment woven by the Empress, but a more dazzling and eye-catching light, one that could still be seen even with closed eyes.

It was the morning light viewed after a long night, gently wiping away the deep-seated unease and anxiety.

It was the crystallization of everything depicted in the hearts of those who had disappeared into the light. Even on a blood-soaked battlefield, exposed to the extreme hell of death and despair, it still sang of the nobility of humanity.

It was the light of hope born from the Sea of Stars.

Compared to this radiance, Semiramis' lethal beam was insignificant, easily shattered by the light, along with everything in its path.

Walls, floors, ceilings, pillars—the entire throne room was split in two by this light.

"Who goes there?"

Semiramis' expression was grave. She prepared a teleportation spell, looking as if she was facing a formidable enemy.

The light had been emitted from a very close distance, yet she had felt nothing unusual beforehand. Without a doubt, this enemy was stronger than any she had faced before.

Her gaze wandered and landed first on a sword—a beautiful sword that was impossible to look away from.

The blade shone with golden light as if celebrating a promised victory, illuminating the surrounding darkness.

With just one glance, one could feel the immense power and deep mystery contained within the sword—clearly, the light that split the throne room was emitted from this sword.

Her gaze moved upward, and the Empress saw a familiar face.

Though her stature had changed from tall to petite, that aura, that magical energy, and that Ahoge all reminded her of the sacrificial victim she had killed just minutes ago.

"You, you are—"

Kairi exclaimed in shock. He had seen this girl and this attire before, in Mordred's dream.

"We meet again, Empress of Assyria, Mordred, and Mr. Kairi. Allow me to introduce myself once more—I am Artoria Pendragon."

The girl knight, still clad in silver armor but in a slightly different style, performed a knight's salute while holding her sword.

"King Arthur!!! Impossible, aren't you dead?"

Semiramis' eyes were filled with disbelief.

"Yes, the Black Lancer is dead. The one standing before you is not a Servant but the true Artoria."

As she said this, everyone recalled the ending of the legend of King Arthur known throughout the world.

The Battle of Camlann, where the rebel knight Mordred died, and the severely wounded King Arthur was taken by a fairy of the lake to Avalon, the isolated utopia, for eternal peace. People believed that King Arthur had not died and that he would return to save humanity when an insurmountable crisis arose.

Now, this legend had come true. In the face of impending disaster, King Arthur left the utopia, returned to the world, and wielded the most famous weapon from the Arthurian legend, the Holy Sword "Excalibur."

With a light swing of the Holy Sword, powerful magical energy surged from the blade, transforming into a visible sword pressure that cut through all the chains binding Mordred with a single stroke.

Mordred, exhausted by the torment of poison, collapsed without the chains supporting her.

However, she did not fall onto the cold ground but into the embrace she had longed for. Though the armor made it as hard as the ground, the warmth brought tears to Mordred's eyes.

"Father, is it you? Hahaha... Am I not dreaming?"

"It's not a dream. Didn't I say we would meet again soon? Rest for a while; it will all be over soon."

Mordred closed her eyes, hoping the dream would last as long as possible.

Artoria, having reverted to her maiden form, gently laid the child down. Her gentle expression instantly turned stern as she faced the garden's mistress.

By this time, Semiramis had regained her composure.

"Even after dying once, you step in here again. Should I call it fatherly affection or foolishness? Do you not know that my poison is unbearable even for the immortal?"

"I have experienced the deadliest poison. Even now, without the scabbard, it would be hard to resist your poison. However, someone told me they had a way to neutralize your poison."

"Hmph, I'd like to see who has such ability."

The atmosphere of the throne room changed. The once dark, decadent hall was suddenly tinged with a strange hue—sometimes colorful, sometimes pitch black. This was the manifestation of the world's concept of poison given to the most ancient poisoner, nearly impossible to resist.

Note, nearly impossible, which means there were exceptions.

The bizarre colors rapidly radiated from the Empress and surged towards Artoria and Mordred.

However, just before the poison concept could touch Artoria, a gentle breeze blew through, alleviating the pressure in the throne room and bringing with it a few petals from an unknown source.

The petals were pink, somewhat resembling cherry blossoms, plum blossoms, and peach blossoms, giving a pleasing and comfortable feeling.

Petals drifted with the wind, brushing past Artoria's hair and Mordred's ear before finally settling on the ground tainted by the concept of poison, where they vanished without a trace.

Immediately, the scenery around the two girls began to change.

Where the petals had disappeared, a touch of green quickly sprouted. At first, there were tiny buds, which swiftly grew and then blossomed into radiant flowers.

These flowers were unlike any known to the present world, more beautiful than any flower ever seen, as if they embodied the pinnacle of floral beauty, concentrating the essence of all flowers. The petals that had just fallen were from these very blooms.

Starting from this flower, more and more flowers began to sprout and bloom around Artoria and Mordred, transforming the throne room that belonged to Semiramis into a sea of flowers.

No, it wasn't just the throne room; the palace outside the throne room and even the entire Hanging Gardens were filled with such flowers, turning the whole garden into a world of blossoms.

"This, this is—!"

Semiramis was stunned. She could feel her concept of poison being eroded by the sea of flowers. The stronger the poison, the faster the flowers grew, as if her poison had become nourishment for the flowers.

"Isn't this a bit over the top?"

Artoria glanced up at the night sky she had blasted open.

"No, no, it's rare for the world to loosen its restrictions. It would be a waste not to put on a good show."

A melodious male voice came with the wind, raising a swirl of petals that gathered into a stunningly handsome figure with white hair and white robes.

"Nice to meet you, Empress of Assyria. Your beauty is as legendary as described, so I prepared this scene specially to match you. I hope this sea of flowers from Avalon pleases you."

"Avalon... you, you are..."

At that moment, Semiramis recalled a certain legend, one closely connected to King Arthur.