Chapter 1135: I Can Do Something Too
Whenever she closed her eyes, she could hear the sound of a raging storm.
It was as if someone were stumbling through a snowy plain at night, only to encounter a blizzard.
The fierce wind made it impossible to keep her eyes open or breathe, cutting like knives all over her body, leaving countless lacerations in her heart, lungs, and spleen.
The girl trapped in this snowy plain was named Artoria Caster.
The storm surrounding her was the embodiment of malice.
"Looking back now, I really don't have any good memories of Britain at all."
Jumping into the Cosmic Forge was like watching her life flash before her eyes. Artoria's mind recalled the memories of winter, autumn, and summer.
Whether in Tintagel, traveling alone, or even the pilgrimage with everyone.
They were all terrible memories.
Everyone's heart longed for salvation.
But everyone only wanted to save themselves.
The Round Table Army was slightly better, but they also placed excessively heavy expectations on her, similar to the villagers of Tintagel, so her feelings were quite complicated.
To be honest, she never thought she would make it this far.
What she envied most about Morgan was that Morgan always had a very clear purpose, moving forward without hesitation or doubt, persisting for thousands of years.
Unlike her, who wasn't even firm in her pilgrimage resolve, lacking proper determination, hobbling along pushed by everyone's expectations, yet still managing to reach this point and witness the downfall of the Fairy Kingdom—it all felt somewhat dreamlike.
Faced with the endless malice surrounding her, she even considered abandoning her mission.
But she persevered.
Because above her, there was a star watching over her.
A star that had existed since her birth.
That star told her she must never lose to this storm that offered nothing but pain!
Guided by that star, her stubbornness flared up again. Her old habit of refusing to admit defeat kept her stumbling forward until now.
That star was probably the reason she wanted to save this utterly rotten world.
Even so.
What exactly was that star?
Even now, she still couldn't understand.
"If there's one regret, it's probably dying without understanding the truth of that star, right?"
Artoria murmured to herself.
Invisible flames scorched her entire body.
There was no pain, no burning sensation.
But she could indeed feel something being forged from her being, as if refining scrap iron into steel.
That was likely the concept of the Holy Sword.
"Next is the sword forging."
Artoria closed her eyes.
The concept was confirmed; now it was time to give it form.
This forge would use her body as material to craft the Holy Sword of this era.
That way, the planet would be saved.
"This is for my beloved friend."
The face of Fujimaru Ritsuka appeared in her mind.
They were kindred spirits—she had understood that from the very first moment they met.
The two had supported each other to reach this point.
Therefore, even though the Earth of Proper Human History held no real connection to her, for the sake of her only friend, she would forge the Holy Sword!
"Bang!"
But at that moment, a tremendous force struck.
"Eek?!"
Artoria let out a sharp cry.
Her body was sent flying, landing outside the furnace.
"Ooh! That stings a bit!"
The person who replaced her in the furnace clicked his tongue, his face flushed red from the firelight.
Once the forging began, the invisible conceptual flames transformed into real fire.
"Muramasa, what are you doing?!"
Artoria stared in disbelief, her eyes wide.
"I've heard—your mission was only to establish the concept of the Holy Sword, not to include the actual forging!"
Muramasa gritted his teeth, his body burning in the flames.
Even as a Heroic Spirit—one fused with a deity—he struggled to endure the flames, with severe burns already covering his body.
"So, let this old man have his moment of glory! You're still young, aren't you? It'd be a shame to die here. Think nothing of it—just consider it an old man's willful recklessness!"
"Muramasa!"
Artoria's eyes instantly reddened.
"I only helped you escape your predicament—why go this far for me?"
Muramasa gave her a proud yet dashing smile.
If he had to explain, it was merely an old man's inability to let go of his concern for the young.
Every time he saw her, despite her lack of skill, recklessly charging into trouble, he'd secretly clench his heart, fearing she might end up dead on the spot.
After witnessing this time and again, he found he could no longer stand idly by.
It felt as if there was some karmic bond between them.
Besides, he was merely a Heroic Spirit; dying would only mean returning to the Throne.
But Artoria was a living person, just sixteen years old, with so much life and splendor ahead of her.
Wouldn't it be too tragic for her to die here?
"I'll return those words to you exactly as they are!"
Yet, at the same moment.
"Whap!"
Someone slapped him away.
"Waaah!"
Muramasa cried out in surprise, sent flying just like Artoria.
"Honestly, could you two stop pushing each other around?"
Merlin watched, utterly speechless.
"Or are you trying to prevent the Holy Sword from being born, Eiji?"
Standing by the furnace, illuminated by the firelight, was a graceful young man.
It was he who had violently slapped Muramasa away.
Muramasa and Artoria lay sprawled on the ground, staring at him in stunned confusion.
"No, even I wouldn't say something so selfish."
Eiji chuckled dismissively.
After all, this matter involved far too much to be halted by mere words or a few acts of willfulness.
If the Alien God destroyed Earth simply because of his own whims, then he, Eiji, would be no different from the Six Primordial Fairies.
That would be far too irresponsible.
"Then why did you do this?"
Merlin stroked his chin, looking at him with a mix of surprise and curiosity.
At this moment, he couldn't grasp Eiji's intentions.
If he didn't plan to stop the Holy Sword's birth, then why push Muramasa away?
"I've already stated my reason."
Eiji flashed a triumphant yet handsome smile.
"If Muramasa can act on the grounds that young people shouldn't die, then I too can do something based on the principle that those who've gained a second life shouldn't perish, right?"
"For example, this!!"
Eiji drew his sword.
Gripping it in a reverse hold.
"Shlick!"
Instantly, blood splattered across the ground!
Without the slightest hesitation—
He cleanly severed his own head!