Artoria's sword pierced Lancelot's chest. At that moment, she could clearly feel her blade breaking through his armor and the gradual stillness of his heartbeat.
She had won—but how could she forgive herself?
I shouldn't have killed him.
That was Artoria's thought. But Arthur, watching from the side, saw the truth clearly: Artoria had fought brilliantly, while Lancelot had lost the will to live. He had sought death. The outcome had been decided from the beginning.
Artoria's tears fell onto Excalibur, mingling with Lancelot's blood as it dripped down the blade.
I'm sorry, my dearest friend.
"There's nothing to be sorry for. Thank you, my king. You finally—"
Lancelot spoke with difficulty. Raising his head, he looked at Artoria with a peaceful smile.
"Lancelot, you—"
"Thank you. All I can offer you now is gratitude."
His apologetic gaze fell upon the sword embedded in his chest.
"To have you personally judge me… is the greatest fortune I could ask for."
Lancelot, the former Knight of the Lake who had shattered the Round Table, was finally liberated.
Now I can be punished by you… How I wish I could atone… I don't know if I can be forgiven now… But at least my heart can find some peace.
That was Lancelot's final thought.
He had blamed himself endlessly. Perhaps now, he could be saved.
A faint smile touched his lips before his body slackened. He fell to one knee before Artoria.
"To think… in the end, I could kneel before you like this."
His smile was happy—yet tinged with bitter self-mockery.
"To die before my king… To think someone like me could still feel a sense of honor. Like a returning hero!"
"Lancelot, don't say that."
Artoria shook her head, her expression desperate.
She wanted to tell him that in her eyes, he was a hero. That his contributions to the kingdom outweighed his mistakes. That he should no longer blame himself.
But—
Lancelot's eyes slowly closed.
Lancelot, you…
You weren't wrong.
That was what Artoria wanted to say. But the one who had suffered most from all of this wasn't her—it was Lancelot himself.
Yet she remained silent. Why hadn't she realized it sooner?
King Arthur does not understand the hearts of men.
When had those words first been spoken?
Lancelot dissolved into motes of light, his final remnants preserving his honor.
"You were a man," Arthur said to him. "Though I never liked you, at least you had the courage to take responsibility for your actions."
Lancelot's eyes flickered open briefly. His lips moved as if to speak, but time had run out. His last traces vanished.
Yet Arthur and Artoria both understood the words he had tried to form.
Thank you.
Tears struck the ground. Excalibur slipped from Artoria's grasp, landing where Lancelot had disappeared.
She had held back for so long—but now, she wept.
This strong girl finally let her sorrow pour out before Arthur.
"I'm such a failure."
"Need a shoulder?"
Arthur crouched beside her, offering his. It was meant as a jest—he didn't expect her to accept.
But he was wrong. He still didn't understand the hearts of women.
Artoria leaned against him, her tears soaking his clothes. Arthur gently patted her back.
"What's wrong, my Knight King? So heartbroken?"
"King Arthur does not understand the hearts of men. I always thought that was wrong, but… "
"No, you do understand. Artoria, listen to me. Lancelot left in peace. He never blamed you."
"Really? But it was because of me—"
"It wasn't. He grieved for his own actions. I dare say, even among your Round Table Knights—including Mordred—none of them truly thought you were an unworthy king."
"How could that be? Mordred hated me."
"No. She loved you more than anyone. She simply couldn't understand your feelings for her. Her rebellion wasn't hatred—it was a young girl's tantrum."
"Is that… really true?"
"Yes. Artoria, look at this kingdom."
Arthur turned her gaze toward the city behind them—this land that belonged to King Arthur.
"Artoria, this is Britain. If you truly believe you failed, then stand with me and protect it. Use everything you have to prevent its ruin. What do you say?"
"Protect the kingdom… with you?"
"Yes. You don't know this yet, but I can bring everything from that world into this one. Once my power grows strong enough, I'll take this land to your homeland. Or—we can find your Round Table Knights. Together, we'll return and save the Kingdom! That's how your kingdom will truly be saved. Otherwise, even if you went back and chose a different king, the ending might not be any better. Right?"
"What you say makes sense, but…"
Artoria didn't disagree, yet something still felt unresolved.
Arthur lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"Artoria, trust me. Okay?"
She didn't answer—only nodded.
Under the sunlight, Artoria was radiant. Arthur leaned in slowly. She seemed to understand but didn't resist, closing her eyes in surrender.
Their lips met.
At that moment, the world seemed to hold only the two of them.
King… returns!!!
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