His eyes could see nothing.
Under the immense impact and blinding light caused by the fall of the Blood Red Moon, Arthur only felt his vision filled with a dazzling white light.
This state lasted for an unknown amount of time. When he finally adjusted to the intense light and began to open his eyes little by little—
["Can you sense my presence?"]
A deep, heavy voice quietly entered his ears.
As this voice emerged, the blinding white light suddenly vanished entirely, and the ruins of a dilapidated castle appeared before his eyes.
"Where is this…?"
Arthur looked around in confusion.
Based on his experience, this seemed to be the remnants of a battlefield, and the battle here had likely just ended.
In the sky, black rain clouds gathered, ceaselessly pouring down torrential rain as if trying to wash away the filth and blood of the battlefield. The rainwater mixed with blood, forming rivers of blood that flowed endlessly from every corner of the castle ruins.
Throughout the castle, he could see small mountains formed from piles of corpses, with shattered remains and broken bodies scattered together, emitting a pungent stench of blood in the rain.
This was the smell of a battlefield he hadn't experienced in a long time.
The last time he felt this scent of fire, blood, and iron mixed together was when he was still alive. It was a smell he could never get used to.
"But why am I here?"
Arthur furrowed his brow in confusion.
He should've been in the sixth Singularity with Naoki and Artoria, fighting Vortigern. By now, Vortigern should've been completely defeated by Naoki's Moon Fall.
Why had he suddenly come here?
["Can you sense my presence, red dragon?"]
At that moment, the heavy voice sounded again, clearer than before. Arthur could now pinpoint its source.
Right in front of him.
Stepping over blood-soaked bricks and earth, Arthur quickly passed through the mountains of corpses and seas of blood around him, arriving at the deepest part of the castle.
The moment he stepped here, a familiar memory suddenly surfaced in his heart.
"This is… that place from back then…"
What his eyes saw was a throne, and a man seated upon it, his chest pierced by a pure white spear, pinning him to the throne.
Arthur remembered this scene—or rather, he could never forget it.
Because he had created this scene with his own hands, and the spear piercing the man was driven by his own hands.
"Vortigern."
This was the place where he fought his final battle with Vortigern when he was alive.
In that final battle, Gawain's light and his Holy Sword's radiance were swallowed, and in the end, they used their full strength to pierce Vortigern's hand with the Holy Sword, then he used the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad to pierce and kill Vortigern.
Raising his head to reveal the aged face of an old man, the man pinned to the throne—Vortigern—looked at Arthur standing before him.
"You've come, red dragon who defeated me, my nephew."
"Vortigern… Did you bring me here?"
"Of course, it was me." Vortigern curled the corner of his mouth, and after seeing the serious expression on Arthur's face, he let out a cold laugh. "Hehehe… Don't be so tense, red dragon. The current me can't do anything anymore. This is merely a space of consciousness constructed by my final shred of awareness. It only allows the two of us to communicate."
Communicate?
Arthur's face was cold. "I have nothing to communicate with you about."
"You may think so… but I don't." Vortigern laughed. "I never imagined I'd be defeated like this in the end. A fairy wielding the power of Imaginary Manifestation… I saw something quite remarkable the first time I appeared as a Servant."
"Wait, what did you say?!"
A piece of information in Vortigern's words made Arthur exclaim, "You said you're… a Servant?!"
How could that be?
Servants were copies of Heroic Spirits. Heroic Spirits were beings transformed into objects of belief after their great deeds became legends upon their death.
Vortigern was the apocalyptic device of the island of Britain, a being entirely opposed to Heroic Spirits. Logically, there was no way he could become a Heroic Spirit.
"Is it so surprising to you that the one fighting you was a Servant, red dragon?"
Vortigern showed an ugly, cold smile on his face.
"However, though I'm called a Servant, it's not entirely accurate. If I must explain, someone created a sufficiently large Spirit Origin, then used the Holy Grail to extract my soul at the moment of my death by your hand and placed it into that Spirit Origin."
"Creating a Spirit Origin… who would do such a thing?"
No, he should know.
Arthur himself should know who would do such a thing.
(Merlin… no, it should be… Morgan…)
But why?
Why would she do something like that? What benefit did it bring her?
Seeing Arthur lost in thought, Vortigern smiled. "It seems you've figured it out… But no matter what you think, neither you nor I can do anything now."
"This is my first time appearing as a Servant, and it's also my last."
"And the same goes for you. You've relinquished your Holy Sword, no longer the wielder of the Star's Holy Sword, and even willingly fell into eternal slumber. This is your final appearance."
"That's right."
Arthur let out a long sigh. "But at least I've completed everything I could and everything I had to do. Though this planet will surely face various crises again in the future, as long as he's here, it'll be fine."
With that, Arthur turned and left the place, his back to Vortigern.
He and Vortigern had nothing to discuss.
Watching Arthur's retreating figure, Vortigern lowered his head again.
"You chose to entrust everything to the next generation… just like her choice."
"Then I can choose the same path, can't I?"
Destroying Britain didn't have to be done by him personally. As long as his actions could bring about Britain's end, it was the same as achieving his goal.
(Entrusting everything to my other self…)
(I see, so she…)
At that moment, Vortigern finally understood the things he saw at the start of his appearance.
The sorceress's goal was—
*CRACK!*
Amid the sound of shattering, Vortigern's body slowly disintegrated.
He was originally a soul extracted at the moment of his near-death. Now, this part had truly met its end. What followed was only his final dissolution into ash and disappearance.
(May my other self fulfill my wish.)
(Let my other self truly destroy Britain.)