108 Chapter 107: Artoria of Avalon 2
(3rd Person's POV)
3 years after King Lot's death.
The sun peeked through the leaves, casting a dappled light onto the flower-filled garden where two children frolicked. Arthur, a mischievous glint in his eyes, barreled into Artoria, wrapping his arms around her legs.
"Bam! Hello, Auntie!" he chirped, a wide grin splitting his face.
Artoria chuckled, her heart melting at the boy's enthusiasm. "Fufu~! Arthur, you look as adorable as ever."
But the charm was short-lived. With a mischievous giggle, Arthur raced towards his sister, Titania, shouting, "Look! Auntie Artoria still wears bear panties!"
Artoria gritted her teeth. Those two little angels, as cute as they were, were terrors in disguise. "That little…" she muttered, shaking her head.
Memories flickered across her mind. Memories of teasing her own uncle back in the day. Maybe, just maybe, this was karma biting her in the behind. With a sigh, she made her way over to Morgan, her older sister, who sat perched on a nearby bench.
"I just finished examining Uncle's body," Artoria announced, her voice heavy with a newfound understanding. "He wasn't sick, there was no plague. He was cursed. He took on the Black Curse, all of it, the curse meant to claim every Briton on this island."
Morgan turned, her gaze meeting Artoria's. "Sister," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "he took the Black Curse from us too. The curse meant to kill a thousand times over. He… he sacrificed himself. For us. For a future."
King Lot, or rather Titus Dusklock, had been a mystery wrapped in an enigma. But now, the truth lay bare. The Black Curse, not a mark of power, but a burden, a promise of death. And Titus, in a selfless act of love, had absorbed it all, giving the people, giving Morgan, a chance to live.
A thousand needles pricking every second, that's what the Black Curse felt like. Artoria and Morgan knew it all too well. And Titus, he had taken it all on, bearing the pain so they could breathe.
A tear rolled down Morgan's cheek.
"I know," she whispered, the words thick with regret. "He used to cry every night, begging for forgiveness. But I, a selfish woman, never offered comfort, never shared his burden."
The memory flashed in her mind: King Lot, wracked with sobs in the dead of night, and her, turning a blind eye, lost in her own worries. The weight of it all hit her like a tidal wave.
Morgan's gaze flitted across Artoria's face, a familiar smile curving her lips. "Come closer, Artoria, my dear sister. Let me see your face properly."
Artoria's brows shot up, surprised by the sudden request. She knew Morgan meant no harm, but after devouring those Arthurian legends, a part of her still held reservations. After all, Morgan had, well, done the unthinkable with Artoria, resulting in the birth of Mordred, Arthur's downfall. And now, being single, could Morgan be considering... a new, unorthodox fascination?
Morgan's eyes narrowed, catching the flicker of doubt in Artoria's expression. "Artoria," she said, her voice laced with a playful glint, "are you pondering over something inappropriate?"
Artoria's head whipped up, and she blurted out, "Not at all, sister!" Jumping onto Morgan's lap, she showered her with kisses on the cheek. "I love you the most, my dear sister! How could I even think of such things?"
Morgan chuckled, her fingers brushing against Artoria's cheek.
"My beautiful sister," she mused, "you're blooming into quite a woman. Perhaps it's time you considered marriage."
Artoria's eyes widened. "Oh no," she thought, "Here comes the marriage talk again." As the Queen's sister, suitors flocked around her like moths to a flame, and Artoria, at her current age, was indeed nearing the expected marriage window.
"Fufu~!" Morgan's laughter tinkled like wind chimes. "Ah, I see. Do you still hold a flame for my husband, your uncle?"
Artoria's cheeks burned like embers. "Of course, I..." she stammered, wanting to deny it, but the truth, as always, found its way out in a soft nod.
Morgan's smile softened. "Ah, I understand. There's no need to hide it, my dear. I've known for some time. That foolish man believed your feelings would fade with age. He underestimated the unshakable bond we share, stubborn sisters as we are."
Artoria nodded, a sigh escaping her lips. The knot of tension in her chest loosened slightly. In Morgan's eyes, there wasn't judgment, only understanding and a hint of amusement.
The sunset cast a warm glow on their faces as Morgan's hand tightened around Artoria's. "There's no need for secrecy, sister," she said, her voice soft but resolute. "Though the thought of sharing my husband makes my blood boil, separating you from him would be a cruel twist of fate. It would surely lead to your downfall, and that, I will not allow."
Artoria's breath caught in her throat. The words, though harsh, were laced with a fierce protectiveness that sent a wave of warmth through her. "But what kind of task...?"
Morgan's gaze drifted towards the horizon, where the sun dipped below the mountains, painting the sky in fiery hues. "You will journey to Avalon, Artoria. A timeless haven, yet an eternal prison."
Artoria's eyes widened, the weight of her sister's words settling upon her like a shroud.
Morgan sighed, a deep rumble that spoke of burdens carried for far too long.
"My husband," she said, her voice tinged with a mixture of admiration and worry, "I sense him battling a beast of humanity, a darkness that threatens our very world. It is a fight he cannot face alone."
Her gaze locked with Artoria's, pleading and fierce all at once. "Should the hour of need arise, I implore you, reach out to him from across the veil of Avalon. Lend him your strength, your unwavering spirit. It is a duty you must fulfill, a sacred oath sworn in the name of our bond."
Morgan's words resonated within Artoria, igniting a spark of purpose within her.
"Trapped I may be," she said, a smile gracing her lips, "but my spirit will soar. I have lived a life of privilege, sheltered by your sacrifice and Uncle's love. It is time I stepped out of the shadows and played my part."
A tear glistened in Morgan's eye, a testament to the unspoken emotions that surged between them.
"Thank you, my sweet sister," Morgan whispered, squeezing Artoria's hand. "For defying fate, for choosing love, for proving that even in the darkest of tapestries, threads of light can weave a future brighter than any prophecy foretold."
They sat in comfortable silence, their silhouettes merging with the fading light of setting sun.
---
(Titus's POV)
Sniff* Sniff*
"O my dear Morgan…" Tears welled up again as I listened to Artoria's tale. My affection for Morgan deepened; she not only anticipated my struggles but also devised a solution.
"There, there…" Artoria comforted me, patting my back. "I didn't know you were such a crybaby."
"Shut it!" I retorted and wiped my face. Then, I noticed something different about Artoria's Spirit Origin. She had always been strong, having lived for 1500 years, but there was a newfound maturity in her demeanor that bothered me.
"Hm, hm, hm~! I see you've noticed," Artoria exclaimed, suddenly appearing in front of me and striking a dramatic pose. "Behold my new form!"
Light erupted from her, blinding me momentarily. When my vision cleared, I gasped. Before me stood not the carefree girl I knew, but a queen reborn.
Gone was the girlish charm, replaced by a regal demeanor. Golden sunlight danced on her crown, glinting off flowing blonde hair. A majestic white dress, adorned with gold and draped over gleaming armor, whispered of authority.
In her hand, the Sword of Promised Victory pulsed with renewed power, transformed into a spear primed for righteous might. Her eyes, once filled with childlike wonder, now burned with the steely resolve of a seasoned warrior.
This was Artoria, yes, but not the Artoria I knew. This was Artoria in her Third Ascension.
But how? Lostbelt 6, the catalyst for her ascension, was still far off.
"Uncle, no, Sir Titus," she addressed me with a formality that sent shivers down my spine. "What do you think of our new form?"
Her voice, too, had changed. The playful lilt was gone, replaced by a commanding yet reassuring firmness.
"This...but how?" My voice barely came out, the question swirling in my head like a storm.
Artoria smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "For that, dear Titus, we must delve into another flashback."
----
(3rd Person's POV)
1994 AD, Tower of Avalon.
"What should I do?!" Artoria fretted, pacing a path through the ethereal mist of Avalon. Artoria Saber, the Servant her future held, couldn't simply be summoned in this world. The Arthurian Legend, seeded by her own hand, lacked the widespread belief needed to manifest even a Phantom Spirit of King Arthur.
Then, as sunlight glinted off Excalibur's blade, an idea sparked in Artoria's eyes.
"If King Arthur doesn't exist in this timeline," she mused, "what about other timelines?"
Excalibur, a conduit to the very fabric of reality, pulsed with dormant energy. With a determined nod, Artoria unleashed its power, channeling her will and the fragmented echoes of the legend across countless realities. It was a gamble, a desperate plea into the unknown.
After a cacophony of swirling light and temporal distortion, a figure materialized before her. It was Artoria, but not the one she knew. This Artoria, clad in gleaming armor, exuded the aura of a seasoned warrior, a battle-scarred testament to a life of hardship and glory.
"This..." Artoria Saber breathed, taking in her surroundings, her eyes finally landing on the familiar face before her. "You are me? And is this... Avalon?"
Artoria smiled, relief washing over her. "Indeed, my dear me. Shall we talk?"
And so, they did. For fifteen minutes, they poured out their hearts, sharing tales of two lives woven from the same thread, yet diverging like branches on a grand tree.
Artoria Caster, spoke of Avalon's tranquility, of Morgan's reign, and of the bittersweet longing for a life she could never have.
"I see," Artoria Saber said finally, a wistful smile playing on her lips. "You have lived the life I forever wished for."
Artoria Saber then sighed, her eyes filled with a melancholic glint. "I longed to create a kingdom like Morgan from this timeline, to be a king loved by my people. But my destiny was different. I was never meant to be the Perfect King."
Artoria chuckled, a playful glint in her eyes. "Hm, hm~! All thanks to unkie, I suppose. He's the only significant difference between our timelines, wouldn't you agree?"
Their gaze locked, a silent understanding passing between them. It was then that Artoria revealed her true purpose, her desire to send Artoria Saber to the Fourth Holy Grail War.
But Saber hesitated. "This is impossible," she declared. "I am only here because of our connection and Excalibur. Two Artorias in one timeline... it's unheard of."
Artoria grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Then how about we become one? You and I are the same, are we not? Unless you want to return to your timeline and become Alaya's cleaner, wouldn't you rather join me? Together, we can be the king we both dream of being."
Saber pondered for a moment, her gaze searching Artoria's face. Then, a slow smile bloomed on her lips.
"I agree," Saber said. "I yearned for the Grail to rewrite my past, but deep down I know it's a fool's wish. However, I do want to see the kingdom my sister built, to meet this Sir Titus, and thank him for making my Camelot a reality, even if it's in another world."
And so, under the watchful gaze of Avalon, the two Artorias merged. Their forms flickered, light and shadow swirling, until they coalesced into a single being, a fusion of two souls with one shared dream.
---
(Titus's POV)
"Sir Titus, from the bottom of our hearts, we thank you for your incredible deeds. Your bravery will forever be remembered," Artoria declared, her voice filled with gratitude as she recounted her tale.
I couldn't help but be fascinated. How did Artoria manage to summon her own future self and merge with her? Avalon wasn't just a place for retirement, it seemed.
But facing this new Artoria was a mix of emotions. One was the little girl I'd raised, the other the goddess I secretly worshipped. Taking a deep breath, I walked towards her and gently grasped her hands.
"Artoria, there's so much I want to say, but all I can manage is thank you. Deeply, from the bottom of my soul." My smile was genuine, my gratitude real.
Artoria's eyes widened before she quickly looked away, muttering, "Ugh, he's even hotter in person."
Then, in a flash of light, she transformed back to her second ascension. And that's when I noticed… she wasn't wearing her skirt. She removed her skirt and now she was only on her pantyhose over underwear.
"Oh, uncle! Sister gave me another gift for you," Artoria exclaimed, holding out her hand. A beam of light materialized, solidifying into a radiant spear, swirling with energy. It was Rhongomyniad, King Arthur's legendary weapon, the one that ended Vortigern and Mordred.
"Sister gave me this before I hid here," Artoria explained, extending the spear. "She wanted me to give it to you. It can even merge with your Gungnir."
Despite my protests, she pressed the spear into my hands. Shame prickled at me. This legendary weapon belonged to Artoria, not me. But her determined look left no room for argument.
I drew Gungnir and, with a surge of power, combined it with Rhongomyniad. The spears pulsed with blinding light, then settled into a breathtaking new form. Gungnir remained mostly unchanged, but a spiral of golden stripes now adorned its shaft.
[Gungnir-Rhongomyniad EX+
A merger of legendary spear Gungnir and holy lance Rhongomyniad
Effect 1: Never miss its target when thrown.
Effect 2: Can be morphed into a whip.
Effect 3: Contains Bifröst energy in the blade.
Effect 4: Multiply (Draupnir enhancement). Added spear heads will disappear after five minutes.
Effect 5: Detonation: Added spear heads can be detonated on the weapon's call.
Effect 6: Contains the effect of Rhongomyniad.]
I traced the intricate patterns, my voice echoing in the empty chamber. "Wow...this might be the strongest spear ever created."
Thinking back, the only reason this merger was possible was Vivian's fairy magic, which had strengthened Gungnir. But how did all this happen? I guess only Morgan knew the full story.
For now, I carefully stored the Gungnir-Rhongomyniad away before turning back to Artoria, pointing at her bare bottom. "Speaking of stories, shouldn't you put your skirt back on?" I asked to which Artoria flinched.
"Crap, sister will kill me if she sees me like this!" Artoria cursed her lone brain cell and began searching her skirt. I believe she tossed it out from the tower.
I couldn't help but laugh at her antics. Despite being 1500 years old and having merged with her more mature King Arthur self, she was still the same clumsy girl I remembered.
Seated on the side path, I used Force and beckoned Artoria into my arms.
"Unkie..." Artoria blushed and nervously took a deep breath.
I gently placed her on my lap, caressing her legs, feeling the soft texture through her stockings, and giving her buttocks a light rub.
"Artoria, I might not see you as a romantic partner right now, but I'll work on changing that. I can't keep a lady in love waiting any longer," I declared, kissing Artoria's cheek. "Just give me a little time."
"Umu! I also want to 'earn' my unkie too. So, you'll acknowledge me," Artoria said, hugging me tightly.
We shared a warm, silent moment in our lovely reunion.
"Unkie, can you scratch my left butt cheek? Yeah, there. Oh god, that hit the spot~!"
---
"That's not how Morgan looked," I muttered, observing the statue of Morgan. I had come to Yorkshire, where the small town named Camelot lay—Morgan's final resting place.
Surveying the history I'd shaped for my country, my chest swelled with pride. Placing flowers on her supposed grave, I then headed back to my office. Inside, Kama, dressed as a maid, lounged on the sofa playing a game.
I smiled, settling beside her, positioning myself to catch a glimpse of her panties.
"You enjoy staring at my butt, don't you..." Kama muttered without glancing my way.
I smirked and lightly touched her womanhood.
"Wah!" Kama jumped, her face flushing crimson as she stared at me in shock. "What was that for, you pervert? Don't casually invade my dignity!"
"Hmm, just considering if you'd like to go on a date," I said casually.
"What?" Kama's eyes widened, her cheeks reddening further. "A-are you serious?"
"Yup, a lovely, pure date. I'll give you what you desire most," I replied with a smile.
It was time to conclude Kama's quest too.
===
I still have no idea how Castoria got her third ascension form so I just made this logic to make a perfect Castoria. Anyway, I will wrap Kama's story too.
