49

Of all the things in the world, Archer didn't really like that much. Weapons, swords mainly, of course. Girls - this was understandable, given that his orientation was quite straight. And then lastly, cooking.

The Chaldea's cooks survived the explosion that took place a month and a half ago, but this did not stop Archer from invading the kitchen after one trial breakfast and making it practically his property, taking the place of all of Chaldea's cooks at once. It's not that the cooks themselves were so bad - it's just because Archer's standards on food were much higher than many people. Plus, he really enjoyed cooking.

Archer took a step toward one of the huge pots, which is currently on a large stove, and then poured the chopped vegetables. He, of course, had never before cooked in such volumes and for so many people at once, but the quality of his cooking was clearly not affected at all according to the testimonies of numerous people who now praised Archer's food every day. Some of the Chaldea's people were even glad that Archer did not go to Singularity with Ainz, as this would obviously mean several weeks without Archer's food.

Archer slightly reduced the fire on the stove, and then looked at the frying pan next to it. The pan's size was smaller than the pot, much smaller, but it still contained enough food for a whole family's daily ration. But Archer knew that this was not even enough for the one to whom Archer was preparing food for.

As if to affirm his thoughts, a second later, there was a loud knock at the kitchen door - although it was not quite right to even call it a knock. Rather, someone just punched the door, causing it to bang and rang across half of Chaldea.

"She is here," Archer sighed, after which he shouted, without a pause from slicing vegetables, "Come in!"

A second later, the door to the kitchen opened, after which a black spot appeared in the small snow-white room, a spot that had no place in this kitchen... Yes, and, perhaps, in Chaldea at all.

"Arthuria," Archer greeted the girl with a nod of his head, distracted for a few seconds, "Come on in. Your portion is not ready yet, but it will be soon."

To this, Arthuria, a girl and the black spot, only silently took a step inside, after which, looking around, she sat in the nearest empty chair, forcing her armor to make a mournful creak.

'I still don't understand why she won't take off her armor,' Archer sighed. Of course, he himself was in his "combat" uniform, a red cloak lay on his shoulders - however, these were still not the kind of armor that would interfere with movement and normal everyday activity. The clothes that the rest of the Servants remaining in Chaldea wore were also not armor - and from what he saw, the only girl who usually wear armor during her stay in Chaldea, Mashu, replaced it with a casual T-shirt, pants and a big hoodie draped over her shoulders. In this regard, Arthuria stood out among the rest of the Servants.

'Among many other things,' Archer glanced at the girl again.

"Do you need something?" Noticing Archer's gaze, the girl only cast a cold glance at him.

"No, nothing," Archer sighed, and then turned back to the stove.

Arthuria. Or, as Archer once knew her, in a distant life, which might seem like a dream... Artoria Pendragon Alter.

In the end, not all the stories about heroes end in victory. "Happily Ever After" is a very loose concept. For the hero of a story about adventure spanning a week or two long, "ever after" can only mean a couple of months. For the hero of a story about their battle with a great evil, waiting in the wings, about their loss of those who were near and their dear ones, about suffering and endless pain "happily ever after" can only mean the absence of these features. In the end, the story of how a hero loses everything in his life and sinks to the bottom of their life is what remains beyond the "happy ending". No one wants to know that their beloved hero, having conquered the heart of the beautiful princess, would in the end finally saw the princess die before her lover and how their hero would be left with nothing. But such is life.

"Fou!" The sound pulled Archer from his deep thoughts, forcing him to look at it's source.

The white-lilac lump of fur was no larger than a cat in size, but it was definitely not a cat, if Archer even understood anything in biology. The closest analogue that Archer himself could make with the creature was a fox, a dog or a squirrel, mixed into a single creature, which acquired large ears protruding above the muzzle and its white-lilac voluminous fur. Archer was not sure what the creature was, but the world kept many secrets and mysteries, and this was only one of many that he touched on.

"Four," Archer nodded to the creature. Of course, he was against allowing any animals to be in the kitchen, especially during the cooking process itself, but during the time that Archer spent in Chaldea the small mysterious animal proved to be more than reasonable - for an animal anyway. He didn't go near the food cooking station, calmly waited for his turn when trying to get food, and lastly didn't jump up to the dining table or the nightstands. So he earned something like a form of trust from Archer that now fed the animal when he came to the kitchen - which always happened every time Archer cooked in the kitchen. Of course, this could be a coincidence, but he doesn't personally believe that it's the case - "Your food is not ready yet. Just wait a couple of minutes more."

Archer was ready to swear that the beast understood his words, and then slowly and imposingly, as far as was possible for a short-legged lump of fur with long ears, he walked past Archer.

"What kind of creature is this?", For the first time in a long time, Archer heard the voice from Arthuria.

"Four, a local inhabitant," Archer said, without turning, continuing to stir the soup, periodically stirring the meat in a frying pan next to him.

"I haven't seen him before," Arthuria's voice sounded cold and almost disinterested, but Archer decided to answer the question.

"Yes, Four... Doesn't really appear near Ainz," Archer thought for a second. Most likely, Four was some kind of magical creature, most likely a chimera or a small spirit, so he could feel something from Ainz - in such a case it was not surprising that he preferred not to cross paths with the necromancer.

"Is that so?" the girl's voice sounded disinterested as always, literally conveying how much the girl didn't give a damn about the answer.

'Saber…' - Archer stopped the thought - 'Artoria... really has changed.'

Of course, for him it was all a dream. He lived, fought, then made a pact with the world and died. The end of the story.

For him, his life was but an old dream. Distant and already half-forgotten, like all dreams that are forgotten after waking up. Just a few scattered memories through which it was no longer possible to draw a single thread of reasoning making up a single chain of events. But still, some distant dreams are sometimes remembered by people, forever remaining in their memory.

A dream of a big fire. A dream about a stupid boy who wanted to save everyone. A dream of a forgotten war between seven magis, hidden from the mundane people. A dream of Saber carrying a golden blade shining brighter than stars.

In the end, for him it was all a dream.

Archer again reduced the fire on the stove, after which he heard a sound.

It was the sound of metal striking metal. A sound he was intimately familiar with.

Archer turned toward Arthuria.

Her black metal glove lay on one of the iron tables in the kitchen, and Arthuria's hand rested on Four's neck.

Slowly, the girl, while looking at the beast, ran her hand in the direction of the fur of the creature, making him squint a little in pleasure, after which she raised her hand and repeated the action. Then again and again.

In the eyes of the girl there was no sympathy, tenderness or joy. They were empty cold eyes, looking into which many would shudder; it seemed as if there was nothing human in the girl, only cold steel.

Arthuria raised her hand again and ran it over the beast, stroking him.

Her steel glove, which she had never removed before, rested on the table, while the girl with her free hand continued stroking the beast, making him squint with pleasure.

"Fou," the beast snorted, for lack of a better word, after which he rubbed his head on the girl's hand when she already stopped stroking him.

Not even a spark of sympathy or joy was reflected in the girl's eyes... But still, Arthuria raised her hand and stroked the beast again.

'Maybe…' Archer thought for a second, looking at the girl. 'Still... She still hasn't changed that much.'

Arthuria, finally ceasing to stroke Four, gently pushed him from her lap, after which she looked at Archer, "Archer. Does staring at me somehow increase the speed of your cooking?"

Archer sighed at that. "No."

"Then stop doing that and keep cooking." Arthuria gazed at him coldly, and then turned away, not interested in Archer's answer.

Archer turned away for a second, glancing at the pan, after which he stir the soup again.

"In fact, I think the food is ready," he said, after which he finally turned off the burners and removed the pan from the stove.

"Then give it to me," despite the fact that Arthuria's tone remained still cold and detached, she extended her hand, the one still clad in a plate glove, forward.

Archer sighed. That Saber that he knew demanded at least a decent sense of decorum, while this Arthuria was quite pleased to eat from the cooking pan.

"Here it is," Archer sighed, putting the pan full of food in front of Saber, and then handed her the cutlery. Archer doubted that even in her hunger, Arthuria would have eaten with her bare hands, but he still did not want to check his theory.

The girl, having received her food, removed the second glove from her hand, and then turned away from Archer, ceasing to pay attention to him.

After a second, Arthuria began to eat.

Although the pan in front of her was filled with the amount of food that would have been enough for a small party, Archer had no doubt that Arthuria could deal with it alone. Even more so, Archer was afraid that this amount for Arthuria might not be enough.

"Itadakimasu," Archer prayed for the girl, but she didn't even react to it. Not that Archer was hoping for any kind of reaction.

The kitchen then was plunged into silence, barely interrupted by the periodically continuing to gurgle pots. Archer, left standing, waited a few seconds before deciding to take up less free space, leaned against the wall. Arthuria did not pay attention to this, continuing to calmly engage in her... what probably count as dinner.

Archer turned his gaze to the clock on the wall, showing a time well past midnight. Most of the denizen of Chaldea were already asleep, with the Servants continued to be in their own rooms - or go about their business, like Archer himself, who had gone out into the kitchen in order to prepare food for tomorrow.

Archer did not know, thoroughly, how would time pass in the Singularity as compared to Chaldea, but judging from his experience with the past Singularity he would guess that Ainz is also experiencing a night time in the Singularity. His Servants must have already gone to bed and dream...

"Arthuria," Archer turned to the girl, making her become distracted for a second from her occupation, casting an uninterested look at Archer, "Tell me... Do you still dreams?"

Arthuria was silent for a second, after which she looked at Archer again, this time with some kind of barely noticeable emotion in her gaze - a grin - "I do not approve of flirting while eating."

Archer sighed at this, trying to stop his face from acquiring any redness. Servant or not, even the Throne of Heroes could not teach him the ways to communicate with girls correctly - "I'm not talking about that. I mean... Ainz dreams. Not about him, but, well…"

Arthuria glanced at Archer, "Do you mean those dreams that are connected with our link?"

Archer just nodded at that.

The connection between the Servant and their Master was... In a sense, very personal. The Servant and the Master were bound by a contract, yes, but still... There was something more.

Archer did not know if this was the expected result or an accidental side effect, however the Servant and the Master had a very special connection. Something that united them more than the simple relationship of the Summoner and the summoned.

The Servant and the Master sometimes could see each other's memories in their dreams. It does not happen frequently, but still happen often enough. Dreams about the past or future, about hopes and desires, about fears and events. One saw the essence of the other through the prism of their own perception.

Whether this was a strange coincidence or a necessary part of the ritual - few couldn't answer it with confidence. Archer could not.

However, the dreams of Servants and Masters could be both dangerous for each other... Just as much as it is very useful too.

Even if in the end they remained just dreams.

"No," Arthuria answered simply, "I have not seen any of the Master's memories."

Archer also did not see anything, as the rest of the Servants whom he asked about it.

In the end this was not at all surprising, since such things happened spontaneously, the likelihood that this had just not happened yet was not zero. But given the total number of Ainz's Servants and the desire of many Servants to see Ainz's memories, to know more about his past, this was still somewhat strange.

"No one saw anything," Archer said next. Nobody whom he asked about it saw Ainz's dreams, - "Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know," Arthuria answered shortly, after which, having considered the conversation finished, she returned to her meal.

Archer, looking at this, only continued to ponder.

Servants did not need to sleep unlike humans. They could function without it - however, this did not mean that they should. The Servants could still take advantage of the rest, either to get rid of emotional or physical shocks this way or from the fatigue of their minds, so few Servants refused such a pastime. However, Ainz, whoever he was, was similar enough to be a Servant, so was it possible that he simply did not sleep? Archer had never seen his Master asleep, so he probably just did not find it necessary.

However, if Ainz did not sleep, this should not have prevented the rest of the Servants from seeing part of his past or at least learn something about him. Was it then possible that Ainz is specifically concealing a part of his life from the perception of the Servants? It was possible, Archer did not see any other option but this. But why?

Most likely, Ainz did not want to give the Servants the opportunity to look into his past. Was he then keeping his dirty secrets in a closet or was it something personal? Cainabel's retelling spoke more likely of the first idea and Archer was close to believing it. But still, while looking at Ainz, it was hard to imagine that he kept in his memory some terrible secrets related to his necromancy or strength. Perhaps that is why he preferred to keep them secret?

Archer blinked, after which he turned his gaze to Arthuria, who had already finished with half of her food and sighed. He may really have to cook a new batch.

Archer got up from the wall, after which he took a step towards the hanging cabinets, opening them to look at the things available to him and grimaced. It seems that the spices are almost completely out.

"I'll go get some more spices," Archer told Arthuria that, if she heard Archer's voice, she didn't give any peculiar reaction, then left the kitchen, allowing Four to jump out ahead of him before the door close behind him.

Arthuria was left alone.

For the next few minutes she only continued to eat silently, not paying attention to the silence that had come in the kitchen. The food in front of her was decreasing at a catastrophic rate, so that after only a few minutes the girl was able to exhale with satisfaction, setting aside a completely empty frying pan.

Satisfied, the girl sighed, but because of her cold tone, such an exhalation turned out to be more like a mocking caricature of a sigh. However, Arthuria did not want such an effect, rather, it just turned out like on its own.

The girl glanced at the pair of plate gloves lying nearby, then to the place where Archer had recently been sitting, and then to the pots on the stove.

"Ainz, hmm..." - the girl said to herself.

Ainz Ooal Gown. A mysterious man. If, of course, he was indeed a man - what was easy enough to disguise such a thing.

Would Arthuria be lying if she said that she didn't want to see Ainz's memories , not wanting to know something about him, to cut the web of rumors and deception gathered around him? Maybe. However, if none of the other Servants saw Ainz's dreams and he never really slept, then this most likely meant that Ainz himself could not see the memories of his own Servants. Arthuria was glad of that.

After all, not all stories end with a happily ever after.

Somewhere there, in a distant forgotten dream, there was a girl.

Artoria Pendragon.

The girl, whom one silver-haired magician tricked into a simple task.

Grab the blade and remove it from the stone.

What happened after became a legend.

The legend of the brave knights, of good kings, of powerful heroes and wise wizards. About a worthy mission to seek the Holy Grail.

There was another story. The story of a mad knight, an unfaithful wife, a split among faithful followers, a bloody rebellion and a distant hill strewn with the bodies of people.

It was a legend. Legends are never true or false. Each legend has its own versions and its storytellers, its authors and perhaps even a life of its own, the legend changing on the go. In one legend there was no rebellion, in another it destroyed the kingdom. In one legend, the most faithful comrade-in-arms of the brave king went mad and attacked his two friends, in another he faithfully served until the very end. In one legend, the Holy Grail was returned to heaven; in another, the king died without ever reaching his goal.

After all, a legend has no truth or lies, only a different version.

And therefore, the legend of Artoria Pendragon had its own version.

The version in which magis fought with each other for the right to touch the Holy Grail. The version in which the brave king returned to this world to acquire the promised Grail. The version in which the first of the knights of the round table met with an idealist who dreams of peace on earth. A version in which the king returned time after time after each failure. The version in which Artoria Pendragon answered the call of a stupid boy that did not even know what he was getting into.

In which there were enemies, there were friends. There were victories.

And there was a defeat.

And Artoria Pendragon fell in battle.

It was not the hill of Camlann. It was not from a rebellion of Mordred. It was not in distant Britain.

It was a defeat. This was what destroyed Artoria Pendragon. What remained after was only Artoria Pendragon Alter.

The one who answered the summon was Arthuria.

In the end, the legend has no truth and fiction. There are only different versions.

The legend of the soulless black tyrant. The legend of the damned king of the knights who betrayed her humanity. The cursed version of King Arthur.

But this version did not have anyone who have heard of it.

After all, it was not even a proper legend. Just one of the versions of Artoria. Not the edge of her personality and not even a part of her. Just a random blot in the history of the King of Knights.

Where did Arthuria Pendragon come from?

That was the question.

But where was the answer?

In Fuyuki? On Camlan hill? At the round table?

Or did everything already happened at the moment when the girl was deceived and pulled the blade out of stone?

Arthuria did not know. Probably no one knew.

But in the end, Arthuria Pendragon was not supposed to exist. Just an unsuccessful retelling of the legend of the brave King of the Knights, just a coincidence.

But she was.

She took the first step in Chaldea. She went to the Singularity. She fought with Lancelot. She defeated Fafnir.

She lost again.

She died.

Then she came back again.

This could be attributed to a mistake. Perhaps this was a fluke. Just an accident that happened at the whim of chance and random event. Accidentally arising - accidentally disappearing as quietly as it had arisen.

But she came back again. After she died, she returned again.

Arthuria's fingers twitched a little and she put her other hand on the palm of her hand, stopping the movement. Just a shallow spasm.

Perhaps her existence was a mistake. But, as the Master showed her, as Chaldea showed, as her resummoning showed - a very persistent and constant mistake.

In the end, Arthuria did not know who her Master really is or was. Arthuria did not even know who she was.

And she didn't want to know that.

Perhaps that's why it was worth staying this way. The unknown memories of the Servants and Ainz should not crossed at all. Perhaps because Ainz kept his secrets not intended for the minds of the Servants. Perhaps because the Servants kept their precious memories that they did not want to reveal to their Master.

Perhaps because they all kept secrets not only from each other, but also from themselves.

After all, Artoria Pendragon Alter was just a random, annoying mistake, created at the whim of a crazy black evil creature.

Arthuria Pendragon existed as a Servant.

The door opened again, after which first a large box of spices appeared in the kitchen, after which only Archer took a step inside.

"Already finished with your food?", Glancing at the girl, Archer shook his head. "I'll cook something else."

"Not worth it," Arthuria got up from the table, after which she glanced at Archer, "I'm full."

"Hm?" Archer glanced at the girl, clearly not expecting such an answer, and then nodded. "Good."

"I'll go," Arthuria answered as coldly as before, after which she took a step towards Archer, allowing him to go around her. The girl took a step toward the door, stopping next to the aisle.

"And Archer," the girl looked at the guy who had just put the box of spices on an iron table, "Thank you."

After this, Arthuria Pendragon left the kitchen.

Name: Arthuria Pendragon (Artoria Pendragon Alter)

Race: Heteromorphic

Title: Black Tyrant

Occupation: Servant of Ainz

Residence: Chaldea, Arthuria's room in the residential wing

Karma: -50 (Neutral ~ Neutral Evil)