Day 1 away from my Master, missing him terribly!

In the Fate stories, the nation of Britain under the King of Knights, Saber, ultimately marched toward destruction due to her own mistakes. Therefore, when she participated in the Holy Grail War as a Heroic Spirit, she ultimately had only one wish: to return to the past and save her country.

However, history could no longer be altered. Even if she could truly return, she would merely create another branch of history rather than genuinely change the specific era that belonged to her. Su Ye had once discussed this with Saber. Whether she accepted it or not, the fact remained a fact.

Perhaps Su Ye's words had exerted a certain influence on Saber. Although her desire to return to her world and alter that period of history still existed, it was no longer as intense. Yet the notion of saving her country and her people remained deeply branded into her soul, becoming her eternal conviction.

Modern Britain and the Britain of over fifteen hundred years ago were long ago no longer the same nation, having undergone countless invasions, wars, destructions, and shifts through the ages. Yet Saber still loved this land deeply. This was the place where she had once fought, and the people here carried the blood of her former subjects. Therefore, although this was no longer the former Britain, it remained her kingdom.

Moreover, could this place perhaps be transformed back into the Kingdom of Britain once again?

This thought flashed by only momentarily. For the present Saber, driving away the evil within the black fog and saving the people was what she most desired to do.

When Saber led a group of Knights of the Round Table charging toward the black fog, she was spotted from afar. The black fog had long since stopped expanding, and the populace had discovered that as long as they did not enter the perimeter of the fog, they would not be attacked by the skeletons. Therefore, outside the entire expanse of the black fog, numerous onlookers who had fled from the fog as well as curious spectators rushing in from outside were now gathered, and they became witnesses to the arrival of Saber and her companions.

Only, at this moment, they had no idea what they were witnessing.

"What are those people? Cosplay? Performance art?"

Expressions of doubt appeared on the faces of the onlookers, who felt these people must have something wrong with their brains to engage in such baffling behavior. Quite a few even picked up their phones to take pictures, preparing to upload them to the internet with headlines already thought out.

*‘Reckless performance artists: is this Britain's glory or ignorant shame?!’*

When the military had plunged into wave after wave of crisis within the black fog, when advanced high-tech equipment had failed to save the city, a group of people dressed in bizarre costumes had actually charged in reverse straight into the mist. Was this mocking the British soldiers for their inaction, or was it a slap in the face to everyone who had fled London?

If they were truly superheroes like the Great Wall Defenders, fine, but judging by their ages and attire, this was simply a bunch of adolescent chūnibyō youths, and what was more, the majority of them were girls. Wasn't this just pure nonsense and making a farce of things?

Yet just as everyone was shaking their heads, sighing, and expressing bewilderment, Saber's group had already charged into the black fog, colliding head-on with a few skeletons wandering near the edge of the mist.

Tens of thousands of skeletons, when fully dispersed throughout the vast city of London, actually did not look like all that many. Furthermore, because they were excessively scattered, the collective combat capability of the skeleton army was greatly reduced, so the majority of the skeleton army still fought in organized groups. However, following the military's attacks, there were always sporadic skeletons appearing—those trapped or those who, upon reviving after death, found themselves far away from the main force. These skeletons became stray soldiers, wandering aimlessly within the black fog.

A few of them happened to wander into the direction where Saber was leading her charge.

"Those people are finished!"

The onlookers sighed one after another. These children might possess commendable courage, but their brains were somewhat dysfunctional. Such a meaningless charge and sacrifice would only make Britain an even greater laughingstock, subjected to the mockery of the entire world.

And such a humiliating historical moment, of course, had to be recorded with a mobile phone.

Moments later, "Mom, I'm witnessing history!"

Well, that was probably the mindset. No one believed for a second that these chūnibyō sufferers could save London or save the world.

Then, they watched as Saber, leading the charge at the very front, waved the longsword in her hand. A skeleton capable of smashing cars and withstanding bullets was instantly chopped into tiny fragments.

"What the fuck!"

"Is this fake?!"

"What the hell!"

"Mom, I think I'm actually witnessing history!"

This history bore a completely different concept and emotional weight from the previous one.

Chopping down a skeleton with a single sword—was this chūnibyō?

No, no, no. This was a hero, a hero of Britain. The scenario that countless citizens had long anticipated was finally being enacted at this very moment.

"The hero belonging to Britain has appeared! Thank God!"

The onlookers burst into tears of joy. Although there were only a dozen or so people, facing an unknown number of the skeleton army, heroes relied on quality rather than quantity. With these people here, they saw hope for a counterattack.

The blonde girl with an ahoge atop her head instantly became the idol of tens of millions of British citizens.

And the King of Knights did not disappoint, directly leading her people deep into the black fog—the very battlefield where the empire's giant had met its doom.

After Saber and her group vanished from sight, everyone was astonished to discover a single fact.

"Those fragments didn't stand back up?"

"The black fog seems to be thinning?"

"Yeah, visibility seems to be getting higher!"

The black fog was indeed thinning, but this was not entirely Saber's credit.

The energy within the "Ether Particles" that Su Ye had handed to Malekith was finite. Once Malekith had manufactured the black fog and altered the forms of himself and his subordinates, the energy had been mostly depleted. Thereafter, every resurrection of the skeleton army would draw energy from the black fog until the fog was completely exhausted, bringing this counterfeit undead calamity to an end.

Therefore, the military had not been engaging in futile effort; it was simply that they were too close to the situation to perceive this issue.

With the military's continuous commitment and the skeleton army's constant resurrections, the black fog had already been partially consumed, though its expanse was so vast that the manifestation was not immediately obvious.

Yet when Saber and her group appeared, it happened to coincide with a quantitative change triggering a minor qualitative shift, resulting in the black fog displaying noticeable changes.

However, the populace was unaware of this detail and thus mistakenly attributed this credit entirely to Saber and her companions. After all, the fact that the skeleton failed to stand back up again was an indisputable truth.

The reason the slain skeletons did not rise again was because Saber had come to this world utilizing Su Ye's system and the power of the Reality Stone. Furthermore, the abilities of the Stones possessed mutually neutralizing effects, ensuring that the skeletons killed would not rise again.

Only, the common people could not possibly know this.

Let alone them, Su Ye himself had not anticipated it.

"We're saved!"

"Long live Britain! Long live the nameless heroes! Long live the blonde maiden!"

In an instant, cheers erupted everywhere, the people celebrating as if welcoming the New Year.

True to expectations, Saber led the Knights of the Round Table, growing ever braver as they fought within the black fog. Wherever they passed, skeletons were shattered to the ground without a single one managing to rise again.

As they advanced, Saber and her group soon encountered refugees and strays who were being pursued and hacked at by skeleton soldiers.

During the course of being hunted, these individuals had lost virtually all their spirit and vigor. Whatever pride in the Empire or gentlemanly demeanor they once possessed had long since vanished. Terrified like stray dogs, their hearts were filled solely with thoughts of escaping and surviving.

And the appearance of Saber and her companions was, to them, like electricity, like light, like the one and only myth.

At this moment, gods and holy mothers were cast completely to the back of their minds. Within their hearts existed only that blonde-haired girl whose face, though bearing a trace of youthful innocence, was etched with firm determination, and whose entire being radiated the formidable aura of a true king.

"If there is a savior in this world, she must surely look just like this!"

Many thought secretly to themselves.

Britain was a kingdom; it possessed a monarch. And at this moment, a sudden thought even popped into the minds of many: *If only this girl were our king!*

Seeing the refugees and battered soldiers, given Saber's original personality, she would not have said much. Yet recalling the sufferings endured by her former country due to her own actions, as well as its ultimate destruction, Saber knew she needed to make a change.

Britain did not need a monarch perched high above; rather, it needed a ruler who loved the people like her own children, who made her subjects feel as though embraced by a gentle spring breeze, and who enabled her subordinates to unite with one another.

These were things Saber could not yet fully accomplish, but she would try.

"The passage behind has been cleared. You may leave along this direction!"

Having shattered a skeleton with a single sword stroke, Saber lowered her head and spoke to a battered soldier nearby who had been frightened to the point of wetting his pants, a somewhat unnatural smile appearing on her face.

"I... I..."

Though the soldier was filled with terror and shame, and his trousers were damp, looking at Saber's face at this very moment, he suddenly felt a surge of boundless courage well up within him, prompting him to voice words that should have been utterly impossible just then.

"I'm not leaving! I want to follow you and fight alongside you!"

Saber shook her head. "I appreciate your courage, but this war is not something you can participate in. Please leave as early as possible!"

With that, Saber hoisted her sword and continued her charge forward.

The Knights of the Round Table said nothing further, nor did they pause; they followed closely behind Saber, marching with large strides deep into the black fog.

The battered soldier looked left and right, then finally gritted his teeth, gripped his rifle, and followed. Though he had been frightened to tears by the skeletons, he was, after all, a soldier. The glory belonging to a soldier could be lost once, but it could not be discarded forever. He was not yet dead; he could still fight.

Sharing the exact same thought as this soldier were many others.

Initially, although they had been terrified by the undying nature of the skeletons, discovering now that skeletons could truly die when slain, coupled with the invincible momentum displayed by Saber and her group, seemed to revive the courage that had previously been almost nonexistent.

"That girl is called a king, right? I don't know where she was originally a king of, but from this moment on, she is my king."

"Follow our King! Charge!"

Led by the strays and supplemented by a few refugees, countless people rapidly gathered behind Saber.

"My King, this scene looks remarkably similar to back then!"

Merlin, walking beside Saber, suddenly spoke up. When they campaigned everywhere in the past, they hadn't been accompanied merely by these few members of the Round Table, but by tens of thousands of grand armies. Those people had gradually gathered together out of admiration for the King's valor.

Now, though these scattered strays did not look very formal, once their numbers grew, they truly evoked a slight sense of returning to the past.

Saber, however, shook her head. "If possible, it's better to let them leave first. In the black fog, there are not only skeletons but even more formidable enemies. With them following, it won't be safe."

Merlin nodded. "Very well, leave this to me. I'll go speak with them."

Just as Merlin turned around yet before he could take action, Saber's gaze suddenly sharpened. "There's a situation! All forces, prepare for combat!"

The words had barely fallen when a massive black figure abruptly surged out from the black fog ahead.

It was an ugly giant standing a full three meters tall, its bald head crowned with a pair of goat-like curved horns, and a pair of massive bat wings sprouting from its back.

Upon catching sight of this giant, the strays trailing behind instantly burst into panicked discussions.

"A demon! It's a demon!"

"Let's run! Even the King couldn't possibly defeat a demon like this!"

"You guys have got to have some faith in the King! In front of our King, that fellow won't be much stronger than a skeleton!"

"That's right! With the King here, even a demon is nothing more than easy prey!"

The heroic display exhibited by Saber and her group earlier had instilled a degree of confidence in these strays, preventing them from scattering in panic. Instead, they shouted louder than the Knights of the Round Table, completely lacking any self-awareness of being dead weight.

At the very front of the formation, Saber's brow furrowed tightly. From the opposing Dreadlord, she sensed a power even greater than that of the Berserker Heracles.

As a warrior, Saber had never feared any enemy—not even Heracles, nor a Dreadlord even stronger than him.

However, this was, after all, not the world of the Holy Grail, and her Master was not present here. Without a Master to replenish her mana, her combat endurance was heavily compromised.

Though she had the Knights of the Round Table helping behind her, she also had those strays acting as a burden. The two forces clashed in her mind, with disadvantages clearly outweighing advantages.

Unless she could completely disregard those people in the rear.

Yet as a king, Saber could not do so.

At this moment, Saber suddenly found herself somewhat missing her Master, Su Ye.

That formidable replenishment of magical energy was one aspect, but the key point was that Su Ye was strong—stronger than all the Heroic Spirits who had ever participated in past Holy Grail Wars. If Su Ye were here, no matter how much stronger this Dreadlord in front of her became, there would be no need for worry.

Regrettably, Su Ye was not here...

Thinking of this, Saber suddenly froze for a fraction of a second.

Since when had she started daydreaming during battle, letting her thoughts wander, and thinking of another man while fighting?

This didn't fit her persona as a king in the slightest.

*‘Without a Master, without a man, I can still win this war entirely through my own abilities!’*

"Roar!"

The opposing Dreadlord emitted a furious roar, simultaneously charging forward with heavy strides.

Saber let out a fierce shout as well, initiating a counter-charge while suddenly swinging the Sword of Promised Victory in her hand.

"Hah!"

Saber's sword crashed violently against the Dreadlord's fist. Followed by a thunderous boom, the Dreadlord remained utterly unmoving, whereas Saber was sent flying backward through the air.

A contest of strength: Saber suffered a complete defeat.

Before Algrim had become a Dreadlord, he had been a formidable Cursed Warrior capable of pushing Thor and Loki around while Thor wielded Mjolnir. Upon transforming into a Dreadlord, although he did not acquire specific Dreadlord skills, every aspect of his physical attributes had been noticeably enhanced.

If he were to attack Asgard now, as long as Odin did not awaken, he could practically slaughter the entire realm of Asgard.

Saber's choice to contest raw strength with him had indeed been somewhat rash.

"My King!"

The Knights of the Round Table in the rear shouted in unison, attempting to rush forward to assist, only to be stopped by Saber upon landing.

"You are responsible for clearing the surroundings and protecting everyone! Leave this fellow to me!"

Simultaneously, countless skeletons and flying gargoyles appeared all around. Left with no choice, the Knights of the Round Table fell back into a defensive posture, clearing out the lesser mobs while shielding the strays behind them.

The strays following along were simply too numerous. Though the knights were powerful, their numbers were too few, leaving them running themselves ragged. Even Merlin found himself with no spare hands to lend Saber assistance.

Saber paid no heed to this. At this moment, her eyes held only the Dreadlord.

Strength was inferior to her opponent's, but she still possessed technique, along with her weapon, the Sword of Promised Victory.

"I can turn this around!"

Gritting her teeth, Saber launched another charge toward the Dreadlord. This time, however, she avoided foolish head-on clashes, instead utilizing her speed advantage to weave constantly around her opponent, launching attacks driven by technique.

As an A++ rank Noble Phantasm, the formidable offensive power of the Sword of Promised Victory was beyond doubt. When the blade slashed against the Dreadlord's upper body, it... it tickled him.

That was right—it tickled.

A Dreadlord capable of batting away Mjolnir with a single sweep, who had even knocked both hammer and wielder flying, further enhanced by the Ether Particles—even the Sword of Promised Victory, wielded without absolute strength behind it, felt like mere acupuncture when struck against him.

Moreover, despite the Dreadlord's massive frame, his movements were not clumsy in the slightest. Saber quickly discovered that the speed and technique she prided herself on meant virtually nothing before him.

Spreading his massive wings, the Dreadlord executed a sudden spin in place that disrupted Saber's combo, subsequently closing the distance with a charge. A fist larger than Saber's head smashed directly toward her.

Boom!

Her longsword barely managed to block the fist, yet Saber was once again blasted away.

"Puff!"

Upon landing this time, Saber spat out a mouthful of blood directly, her entire person appearing somewhat haggard.

"My King!"

The Knights of the Round Table in the distance shouted out in alarm.

They were hardly weaklings; among them, Mordred was a formidable warrior who had once fought Saber to mutual destruction. With their assistance, Saber would at least have had an easier time.

Yet, Saber still raised a hand to stop them.

"Protecting the people is the duty I have assigned to you. This enemy—I will handle myself!"

Watching Saber lean upon her sword as she picked herself up once more, the Knights of the Round Table felt tears welling up in their eyes.

And those strays under their protection finally understood at this moment that following along not only failed to provide any assistance whatsoever, but instead turned them into the greatest burden.

"Lord Knights, stop protecting us! Go help the King fight!"

"That's right! It was our fault for following and causing you trouble. Please don't mind us; hurry and go!"

"Let us die instead! That way you can let loose and fight to end this disaster sooner!"

The crowd shouted out one after another. They feared death, yet they found themselves utterly unable to remain indifferent while watching a hero die right before their eyes!

"Silence, all of you!"

Merlin amplified his voice with magic, drowning out the clamor of the strays, before speaking in a deep tone.

"It is not that we must protect you at all costs, but rather that we must execute the King's commands. This is our steadfast resolve, so say no more. If your hearts are truly sincere, offer your blessings to our King in silence!"

"Bless her to lead us together through this victory, just like in countless wars of the past."

The strays grew quiet. Then, a civilian standing close to Merlin leaned down and asked softly.

"Lady Mage, who on earth is the King?"

Mordred, who had remained silent all this time, suddenly spoke up.

"Our King is named Artoria Pendragon. In life, she was known as King Arthur!"

"King Arthur? The King Arthur who pulled the sword from the stone?"

The legend of King Arthur belonged to British folklore, devoid of specific historical records and merely roughly dated to the dawn of the Middle Ages around 500 AD.

That era was far too distant from the present, yet precisely because of that, the legend of King Arthur felt all the more captivating.

Upon hearing that Saber was King Arthur, everyone present surprisingly failed to voice any rebuttal or skepticism.

Nonsense—over in New York, Thor had already appeared; what was wrong with having a King Arthur in London?

Though she was a girl and appeared young, differing from the image of the illustrious King Arthur, those were only legends. Legends got distorted in retelling, and stories were fabricated by men.

Therefore, between a legendary rugged King Arthur and the soft-yet-powerful King Arthur standing right before their eyes in reality...

Did one even need to hesitate over which to believe?

Seeing was believing!

At this moment, not only did everyone accept the reality that Saber was King Arthur, but a single thought sprouted directly within their minds.

If the King Arthur before them could once again become the monarch of Britain, could she lead them to reclaim past glories and make Britain the empire upon which the sun never sets once more?

Across the battlefield, a question similarly arose within Saber's mind.

If she unleashed her ultimate technique right now, would she manage to severely injure the opposing Dreadlord?

As an ultimate move, the Sword of Promised Victory consumed a vast amount of magical energy, requiring a recovery period afterward.

If she managed to severely injure the Dreadlord, fine; Saber would still have time to recover and continue her offensive, securing an opportunity to defeat him. But if she failed to severely injure him, she herself would be in grave danger.

Regrettably, Su Ye was not here. Otherwise, with the ability to freely replenish mana, her endurance would have posed no problem whatsoever.

There was an old saying: hesitation leads to defeat.

Though Saber had never heard the phrase, she understood the logic; this was no time for hesitation.

Therefore, facing the Dreadlord as he strode forward once more, she resolutely raised the sword in her hand.

"Ex... calibur!"