Chapter 59 Leadership Aura

My name is Alaya.

This time, the Wife is dreaming~

99:45:05

When it came to entering other people's memories, Irisviel was far more experienced than Kiritsugu.

She was the supreme masterpiece of the Einzbern homunculus technology, but this fact also meant that countless versions of "her" had been "disposed of" due to manufacturing flaws, accidents, failed quality tests, and botched trials.

Because of Kiritsugu's intervention, Irisviel had achieved a near-perfect score in the final trial, and after being assigned to participate in the Holy Grail War, she was even permitted to bear a daughter with Kiritsugu. However, this was not a "reward," but rather the "next step" of the homunculus project.

The previous version of the homunculus project would be completely terminated, and all subsequent homunculi would be manufactured using Irisviel's daughter, Illyasviel von Einzbern, as the blueprint. Therefore, she would end up just like herself—no, judging by the behavior of that future daughter, she probably did not know about this.

Regarding the fact that "the souls of all homunculi are preserved within the Holy Grail."

Including Irisviel, all homunculi were manufactured using the original Maiden of Winter as the blueprint—they were [Vessels of the Holy Grail]. Before the final descent of the Holy Grail, their physical forms would vanish and transform into the Grail. Therefore, regarding the question of whether these homunculi possessed self-awareness, the Einzbern family perhaps did not know, or more likely, simply did not care.

Yet Irisviel clearly knew that every single one of them possessed an independent mind and soul. Not only those "selves" who had successfully birthed thoughts, but even those whose minds were incomplete, whose souls were shattered, or whose remaining memories consisted solely of doubt and pain—those souls deemed mere "defective products"—could all be found within the interior of the Holy Grail.

They could be found among the ten thousand and thirty-one souls surrounding Lizleits Justitia von Einzbern.

Though the souls might have means of communicating with one another, the still-living Irisviel had no way to converse with them directly, save for reading their memories; she could only vaguely sense certain emotional fluctuations.

Most of those fluctuations were calm and gentle. Even if a small fraction were anxious and unsettled, they would be pacified under the soothing presence of the Maiden of Winter. After all, as vessels of the Holy Grail, once the Grail finally descended, liberation would be granted to them regardless of who the victor might be.

And earlier, when that future Illya had playfully proclaimed herself the Maiden of Winter, not only did the true Maiden of Winter burst into laughter, but virtually all the souls that had birthed consciousness transmitted waves of joy.

The reason these souls rejoiced was that, judging by the fact that Illya knew nothing whatsoever about the secrets inside the Holy Grail, the Grail had indeed truly descended. Thus, Illya's soul after death was not absorbed by the Grail, but instead became a Heroic Spirit, which simultaneously meant that they too would soon attain liberation—within a timespan no greater than sixty years.

??:??:??

"Merlin, Brother Kay, did I do something wrong? Is that why the Sword in the Stone shattered?"

After enduring the half-waking, half-sleeping state inevitable when stepping into another's memories, Irisviel saw Saber.

She was not like Lily, for she wore light black skirt armor, yet she was not Alter either, because her locks were a dazzling gold, while her eyes remained as emerald-green as tranquil lakes.

"No, accepting a duel and giving it your all is entirely in accordance with chivalric honor," answered a sturdy young man carrying a round shield on his back and wielding a great axe. He paused for a moment before continuing, "Even if the provocation was born of deceit, your actions in this battle were without fault."

Irisviel looked around. Solid brick walls, a level ground, and surrounding spectator stands revealed this to be an ancient arena. Opposite Saber, who stood in the center, a knight clad in silver-white armor lay flat on his back. A massive sword scar crossed his chest, causing his seemingly sturdy silver armor to cave in with a terrifying dent. Despite suffering such devastating trauma, the knight remained utterly motionless, evidently beyond saving.

On the ground between them lay a cavalry lance and a golden sword, both snapped clean in two. However, unlike the cavalry lance, which clearly bore the marks of being hacked apart, the fractured edges of the golden sword were smooth and even, as if it had broken of its own accord.

Outside the arena, near the young man called Brother Kay, a shifty-eyed, middle-aged fat man was being pinned to the ground by two fully armed knights. Though his entire body trembled, his eyes continued to dart about incessantly.

Could it be that Kiritsugu had entered Saber's memories? And because both Sabers shared the same spiritual foundation, she had been dragged in as well. Yet the dream seemed inverted, and—Irisviel looked down at the Dress of Heaven she wore—to think her subconscious would actually envy her daughter's pretty formal wear; what kind of mother was she really...

"It was King Pellinore who insisted on using a silver cavalry lance against your golden sword, so, er, you needn't feel guilty." Kay's words of comfort sounded dry; after all, he could not explain why the Sword in the Stone had broken either.

"Congratulations to King Arthur for displaying divine might and defeating King Pellinore!" shouted the restrained fat man suddenly. "According to tradition, she shall receive all the territories and property of King Pellinore!"

"Do you think I would dance to your tune, Anor!" Saber—no, Artoria strode forward with a furious expression. "I tell you, I will never—"

"King," Irisviel spoke up to stop her. Though she did not know why she had become Merlin within Saber's memories, this kind of situation had happened before when she read the memories of "herself."

By mere coincidence, she would occasionally incarnate into a specific person within a memory, and through her words and actions, she could alter the events that were originally destined to happen.

This could not change history, nor would it rewrite memories; strictly speaking, she was intervening in Saber's dream about her own past—yes, this was merely a dream woven together by both parties, and that Artoria was the "real person."

If she did nothing and allowed things to proceed along their original trajectory, the waking Saber would instantly cast it out of her mind, for stale memories were entirely meaningless. But if she could exert significant interference within this dream, perhaps she could slightly alter her behavioral style?

"Merlin... are you going to speak on his behalf?" Evidently, the magician Merlin held a high position in Artoria's heart. She halted her steps and looked at Irisviel with aggrieved eyes.

"Unless one is a madman, the actions of any person have a purpose. What do you suppose was the purpose of this Mister Anor speaking such words even in the face of such adversity?" The Artoria before her nearly overlapped with the image of Saber Lily. Irisviel struggled to restrain herself from reaching out to stroke the tuft of hair sticking up atop her head.

"Oh! I see! Truly worthy of Merlin!" Before Artoria could even begin to ponder, Kay was already making a realization, while Anor, who had still intended to shout a couple more times, turned pale with terror.

"My original intention was to refuse King Pellinore's property, but that was predicated on the assumption that he had heirs to inherit it," Artoria frowned slightly. "In the absence of an heir, the territories and property are to be—handed over to the witness of the duel?!"

She turned her gaze to Anor, who had orchestrated the duel with a conspiracy; the fat man was slumped dejectedly, completely motionless now that his plot had been seen through.

"Normally, the witness to a duel is jointly decided by both parties, usually someone trustworthy. This is typically to handle the aftermath in the event of mutual destruction, but under his instigation, your duel with King Pellinore left no opportunity to seek other witnesses, and King Pellinore indeed has no heirs," Kay shrugged and explained.

??:??:??

"Added to the plotting he carried out beforehand, one could say that the moment this duel began, he stood in an unbeatable position." Irisviel recalled the various speculations of modern historians regarding this dishonorable duel. "The only way to break the deadlock would have been to see through it in advance and refuse the duel—yet how much groundwork did he lay to ensure you would not refuse?"

"...An unbeatable position?" Wisps of black Qi seemed to be emanating from Artoria as she casually pulled a knight's side sword and walked toward Anor.

"No, you cannot do that! Aren't you going to become the King of all Scotland?" Sensing danger, the fat man began to struggle fiercely, but the two knights behind him pinned him down firmly.

"Ah, yes, but I suddenly realized that extending a helping hand to everyone in need does nothing to aid in that regard." Artoria walked up to the fat man and raised her longsword high. "Farewell, clever Anor."

??:??:??

"[Your actions deviate from chivalry~ You are unable to wield Caliburn~]"

Just as Irisviel thought the swindler was about to bleed, accompanied by a familiar half-waking, half-sleeping sensation, she found herself with Artoria in a small boat at the center of a lake, while the ethereal and delicate voice of the Lady of the Lake echoed all around.

There was no wind whatsoever on the surface of the water, yet it churned with giant waves capable of capsizing the boat.

"Hah, look, Merlin, she is not as willing to grant me a new sacred sword as you claimed." Artoria was struggling to steady the boat, even sparing a moment to smile at Irisviel.

At this moment, the maiden's golden locks were beginning to turn white, yet her eyes remained as clear and green as jade.

Irisviel spread her hands, and countless enchanted strands of mithril surged forth, weaving into a dense spherical barrier that enclosed the small boat. No matter how fierce the wind and waves grew, they could do nothing against it.

"Who said we came here to get Caliburn?" Irisviel addressed the center of the lake. "Don't you have another one?"

"[...Merlin, do you know what you are saying?]" The voice of the Lady of the Lake carried unmistakable astonishment.

"You fairies always love to impose your own values onto others," Irisviel chuckled softly. "What I need is a King capable of saving Britain, and that has nothing to do with whether she herself is virtuous or tyrannical, whether she walks the path of a king or the path of a conqueror."

"[You...]" The Lady of the Lake was momentarily at a loss for words. "[I hope you will not live to regret this.]"

As the voice of the Lady of the Lake faded, the once-clear small lake instantly turned pitch-black, and the flowers, grass, and trees along the shore rapidly withered and died.

The pitch-black lake water converged, forming an ugly and gigantic humanoid figure before the small boat. Its face possessed no features whatsoever, save for a pair of eyes radiating a blood-red glow, and clutched in its grasp was an ominous longsword whose blade was entirely black, inscribed only with several crimson straight lines and rings.

"As expected, things obtained through trade and compromise are far inferior to those seized by combat and conquest." Artoria stood up at the bow, pointing her ordinary side sword at the water monster.

"[You still have one last chance, so long as—]" The Lady of the Lake attempted to salvage the situation.

"Hmm... Is this a refusal to grant a blessing?" Irisviel looked at the water surface between the water monster and the small boat, and instead cast a magic spell granting Artoria the effect of "Water Walking."

"Hand it over!" Artoria leaped down from the small boat, her feet stepping onto the water as if it were solid ground as she charged toward the water monster.

??:??:??

A decade of battlefields, twelve major wars—all ending in Artoria's victory.

Even in her female form, all the kings and noble lords of Britain were forced to acknowledge her as the King of all England.

Perhaps it was due to her martial valor and exceptional command, or perhaps because of the magician Merlin, who unconditionally accommodated her.

Or perhaps it was due to her ruthless deadliness: whoever dared to draw a sword against her was destined to leave no survivors.

Inside the Great Hall of Camelot's castle gathered all the [Knights of the Round Table] under her command.

"Artoria does not understand the human heart," the Knights of the Round Table whispered among themselves. "She tolerates no conspiracy or betrayal; even a well-meaning little lie brings down her harsh reprimand. This is hardly the capacity of a true king."

"Artoria does not understand the human heart," argued the Knights of the Round Table over drinks. "Because she leaves no living enemies in battle, neighboring nations now view us as raging floods and fierce beasts, and the pressure required to maintain our borders grows ever greater."

"Artoria, you do not understand the human heart!" shouted the drunken Knights of the Round Table toward Artoria, who sat in the master seat of the Round Table. "We agreed the Round Table was for equals with no distinctions between us, so what is that head seat of yours all about!"

"So noisy..." Due to the overwhelming power of the Red Dragon, Artoria's emerald eyes had turned into golden slit pupils. Her armor remained black as ever, but the style had shifted from a pursuit of strict protection to something aesthetic and grand, resembling a formal gown.

Frowning at the packed, massive round table before her, she complained to Merlin beside her, "Can a three-hundred-person round table no longer hold them? When on earth are these fellows who keep shouting that I don't understand the human heart and want to leave going to actually leave?"

"Didn't Sir Lancelot leave earlier? And he took your queen with him." Irisviel replied with a smile.

Memory jumps spanning over a decade might baffle an ordinary person, leaving them to improvise blindly, but Irisviel, with her wealth of experience, easily gleaned relevant information during the half-waking, half-the-sleep jumps.

"They're just throwing a tantrum, forcing Sir Lancelot to take her away, since he never refuses women anyway," Artoria glanced out the window. "To think you didn't stop me when I proposed to Guinevere back then."

"Even though you claimed the throne directly as a woman and had no need for a nominal queen, the problem was that Guinevere, due to her father's overwhelming influence, could not be married to anyone else." Irisviel transformed her mithril threads into a giant hammer, swatting away a few audacious knights who attempted to toast Artoria.

"I never thought of that when fighting side by side with her back then," Artoria shook her head. "She actually took words like 'I'll make you my queen when this war is over' seriously."

"That's because your charm is simply too great~" Irisviel smiled as she stroked Artoria's head, though it was a pity that the tuft of hair that always stood up had vanished at some point.

"Merlin, stop treating me like a child!"

"What is a child stuck in her sixteenth year saying?"

"Isn't that your fault? Why couldn't I grow up even after the Sword in the Stone broke?!"

"Just tell me where you want to grow, since I'm the one who made you, changing it is quite easy you know."

"Er..."

The Knights of the Round Table almost instantly noticed the commotion at the master seat.

"Ah, the King and Merlin are at it again."

"So envious—"

"Envious of which one?"

"Camelot owes me a Merlin!"

————

"Father King! Emergency war report! The Anglo-Saxons launched a sneak attack and have already reached Camlann!"

The noisy Round Table assembly instantly fell silent. Every gaze turned toward the door, leaving them momentarily stunned as a blond, fanged maiden clad in pure white armor rushed in.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Father King!" Artoria stood up, strode forward, and took the battle report.

"Your Majesty... Royal Sister—" Mordred wore an expression as if she had a toothache.

Heh, Irisviel chuckled silently. To apply a modern saying, if someone shared 50% of your genes and 50% of your sister's genes, who would she be?

Obviously a younger sister! Artoria had declared as much back then, and after Merlin gave Morgan a lecture on genetics, Morgan had smashed her laboratory—the genetic similarity between parents and children was nearly 100%.

"My lords need not worry; our outer defenses are utterly flawless," Artoria's clear, cold voice echoed through the hall. "Those Anglo-Saxons merely utilized giant flying magical beasts for a surprise attack, and after being shot down en masse, they are merely making a last stand at Camlann."

The Knights of the Round Table stirred faintly, leaving the maiden who delivered the report utterly bewildered.

"However, due to the presence of ferocious magical beasts, ordinary soldiers cannot be deployed in this battle, so I intend to take—fifty of the Round Table. Those interested—" A longsword bearing blood-red patterns and a terrifying aura manifested in Artoria's hand as she suddenly pointed forward.

"[Where the King's sword points, our hearts shall follow!]" The uniform roar nearly blew the roof off the hall.

Shortly after, fifty silk-constructed white eagles flew from Irisviel's hands, landing one by one upon the shoulders of the lucky ones who had successfully claimed the top fifty spots, while they immediately snatched up their weapons with radiant joy and marched out the door.

"What is this! I didn't get in again!"

"Gawain, are you cheating? How is it you're in every time?"

"I haven't had a chance to fight for three times in a row now! Artoria does not understand the human heart!"

"This, this, this... What is happening? Weren't they all dissatisfied with Fa—Royal Sister?" Mordred stamped her foot, having been squeezed into a corner of the hall by the knights' momentum. "Besides, I brought the battle report, I should be the one fighting."

"Because you didn't hear the subtext." Irisviel very naturally reached out to rub the head of the blond maiden, whose appearance was ninety percent identical to Artoria's.

"Artoria does not understand the human heart, but her heart is right there."

98:24:18

Irisviel opened her eyes and saw Kiritsugu gazing at her as well, prompting her to smile.

"I think we should be nicer to Saber."

"What a coincidence, I think I should exploit them even more."

How was that a coincidence?