I'm Not A Master, I'm A Director
Chapter 389: Mordred's Dream
"You damn wild monkey!!" Semiramis let out a furious roar.
Faced with Mordred's choice to either retreat or fight, the Empress made her decision in an instant.
From a purely rational, tactical standpoint, losing her overwhelming advantage meant she should have withdrawn for the time being.
However, the calm smile on Mordred's face irritated her to no end.
Her pride as an Empress would never allow itself to be trampled.
Moreover, this was the control core of the Hanging Gardens. Leaving this place would be equivalent to surrendering her home field.
If Mordred were to destroy this room and force the Hanging Gardens to crash, what would happen to Amakusa, who was in the middle of activating the Greater Grail… the Empress didn't even dare imagine it.
And so, even after losing her advantage, she chose to fight.
Besides, it was far too early to decide who would win or lose this battle.
"I'll make sure you never smile again for the rest of your life!"
Once more, the Empress summoned deep green chains. Their hooked tips rose like the heads of serpents.
There were roughly two hundred of them.
"I'll say those exact words right back at you!"
Facing chains that could tear her body apart, Mordred darted around at high speed. With her agility, she avoided most of them; only three managed to coil around her body.
Even so, there was no joy on the Empress's face.
Her chains derived their true power from the poison that seeped through them, the chains themselves were merely a medium.
Against Mordred's current Mana Burst, just three chains could neither restrain her nor poison her.
"Tch!!"
The Empress immediately retreated, trying to pull back toward her throne and put distance between herself and Mordred and Astolfo.
There was no helping it, both Mordred and Astolfo were agile knights. Once the two of them got in close, the only thing waiting would be a brutally tragic ending.
'First, use the shields to slightly slow their charge—'
The Empress understood clearly that the true strength of the Mordred–Astolfo duo lay within the reach of their knightly swords.
At range, their options were extremely limited. Mordred's Noble Phantasm beam was practically their only long-distance attack.
"Don't get in my way!!"
Mordred swung her knight's sword like a massive hammer, smashing the divine fish-scale shields in front of her as if they were made of glass.
Still, those few seconds were enough for the Empress to buy herself some time.
"Overflow. Manifest."
At her command, a gigantic serpent with vividly colored twin horns and forelimbs emerged from a magic circle.
This was a monster far superior to the divine fish summoned earlier—a great beast from Mesopotamian mythology, one of the Eleven Demonic Beasts created by the Mother Goddess Tiamat.
A terrifying great serpent whose rank rivaled even that of a dragon god—Bašmu.
"Sssss—"
The giant serpent's fangs gleamed with a brilliant white light. That was a poison even more fearsome than the Hydra's.
Even the slightest graze would be fatal, it's an abomination so dangerous that even the Empress herself dared not use it lightly.
"Come. Let me see how you're dealt with by this!"
Before such a monstrous beast, even a rebellious knight had very few viable options.
As for Astolfo? The fact that he wasn't already screaming and running around in circles in front of this thing was impressive enough.
Unfortunately, the Empress had made a fatal mistake.
She had poured an enormous amount of magical energy into summoning the venomous serpent to deal with Astolfo and Mordred.
In doing so, she gave up her greatest advantage as the host of the Hanging Gardens—her mobility provided by teleportation magecraft, and the versatility granted by her dual class abilities.
Earlier, the Empress had mocked Mordred for being all brawn and no brains, assuming she would charge head-on and fall neatly into her trap.
Now, it was the Empress herself who had committed the very same error.
Was this the turning of fate's wheel, or simply being repaid in kind?
Either way, the moment the Empress chose to summon an "invincible" divine beast, her defeat was already sealed.
Because Mordred and Astolfo's true target had never been her summoned monster—
It was her.
Indeed, Bašmu was overwhelmingly powerful, and most Servants would find it nearly impossible to break through its defenses.
But even now, Mordred's Master still had one Command Spell glowing brilliantly on the back of his hand.
"By my Command Spell, I order you—Saber! Slay the Empress, right now!!"
"Understood, Master!"
With the Command Spell's support, Mordred leapt effortlessly over the massive serpent, raising her crimson lightning-tainted cursed sword high above her head.
"Sss—!!"
The great snake twisted its body, trying to snap its jaws shut around the red knight who had slipped past it, desperate to protect its master.
At that very moment, Astolfo—who had been waiting for his chance this whole time—moved.
"Rider, once Saber is able to fight freely, your only objective is to clear the path for her after the Command Spell is activated!"
Astolfo firmly remembered the words Sisigou had spoken before entering the room.
The instant the serpent opened its mouth, he decisively intercepted.
"Go, Hippogriff! Use your power—stop it!"
The eagle-headed, horse-bodied winged beast descended from the Phantasmal Realm into reality. Letting out a fierce cry, it dug its claws into Bašmu's head.
Though the Hippogriff was itself a Phantasmal Species, the difference between it and Bašmu was like that between a lizard and a true dragon.
Even so, the Hippogriff put every ounce of its strength into holding the serpent back—for one second.
That was enough.
"Die already, you poisonous bitch!"
When the crimson lightning appeared before her eyes, the Empress finally understood.
The moment that gate was destroyed and the Black faction's Rider barged in, she should have retreated.
"No—!"
Her lips had already begun chanting the spell required for teleportation.
Within this garden, less than a single phrase was enough to activate a transfer spell, this very speed had been the foundation of how she toyed with Mordred earlier.
But with the support of Astolfo and Sisigou, Mordred caught up within that fleeting instant.
The descending sword cut in from the shoulder, plunging deep enough to destroy the Spirit Core—almost exactly as the Empress finished chanting her teleportation spell.
Semiramis successfully transferred away.
Her black silhouette vanished from the hall while carrying a mortal wound.
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"Did she escape… or did that hit land?"
Everything on the screen happened too fast. Before Li Ri'ang could even react, the Empress had already disappeared from the footage.
"She probably got hit," Chai Song guessed. "I clearly saw Mordred's sword pierce through her body."
Li Ri'ang rubbed his chin. "Then that should mean the Empress is out of the picture, right?"
"Most likely," Fujita replied. "After all, there isn't much runtime left in the movie."
Fujita wasn't wrong. Fate/Apocrypha had already passed its midpoint, and there simply wasn't room left for another extended fight scene centered on the Empress.
Still, no matter how the audience speculated about her fate, Shinji himself offered no immediate answer.
The camera remained fixed on Mordred, standing where she was, as the soundtrack shifted to the "Glory of the King."
Accompanied by that gentle, sorrowful, unmistakably Type-Moon melody, moonlight poured down over Mordred. For just a moment, she carried a faint resemblance to her father.
Because Glory of the King was so famous among long-time fans, many in the audience unconsciously began humming along with the music.
Even Jeanne, sitting beside Shinji, was no exception.
"This scene is wonderful, Master," Jeanne said softly.
She felt that just these few minutes of Mordred's battle with the Empress were already more than worth the price of admission.
Especially this slightly melancholic ending, it grabbed the audience's emotions perfectly.
As Jeanne admired Shinji's work as a director—
"Hey, Master~"
She suddenly wrapped both arms tightly around Shinji's arm.
Feeling awkward, Shinji reminded her, "Jeanne, isn't this a bit much? We're still in public~"
"You're dreaming big, Master," Jeanne said disdainfully. "I'm just making sure you don't run away."
"Why would I run away?"
A sense of unease crept over Shinji.
Instead of answering directly, Jeanne said, "Later, if my exit scene isn't done to this level, then you won't be sleeping tonight."
"..."
Shinji twitched the corner of his mouth. "Uh… then if I do pull it off, can my reward be that I don't let you sleep?
"Dream on!"
"Hey, Saint! You can't do that, if there's punishment, there's gotta be a reward too!"
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"Hiss———"
The great serpent let out an unwilling wail. With the Empress suffering a mortal wound, she no longer had the power to maintain its manifestation.
Filled with boundless regret, it vanished from the hall.
"Hmph. She's as good as dead."
Mordred snorted at the now-empty throne, then turned back, thoroughly satisfied.
"Hippogriff…"
Astolfo was gently stroking his partner.
To stop the serpent, the Hippogriff had given everything—including its life.
Struck by the serpent's deadly poison, it was now facing its end.
"It was a brave kid," Mordred said, walking over and imitating Astolfo's movements as she patted the Hippogriff's neck.
"I like you a lot. Let's go for a ride together sometime," she added with a grin.
"..."
The Hippogriff slowly nodded, then closed its eyes.
"Good work, partner. Get some proper rest."
Astolfo bid farewell to his mount with quiet sorrow.
Sisigou, who had been waiting outside the room, only spoke after the Hippogriff completely faded away.
"Let's go. The Saint still needs our help."
Mordred lifted herself slightly, then immediately sat back down.
"Mm… my fighting ends here."
She spoke casually, turning her gaze toward the ceiling.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Sisigou stared at her in shock.
"Nothing. I'm just sick of fighting."
Looking at her reflection on the watery surface of the ceiling, Mordred smiled faintly.
"That woman's already been taken care of. All that's left is a Caster and a priest. If you can't handle them, don't come crying back to me."
"Huh? Mordred, aren't you—"
Astolfo started to speak, but Sisigou stopped him.
"Take this."
Mordred tossed a fragment of her helmet, stained with her own blood, toward her Master.
"This should help you. Alright, get going already."
"…Alright. You rest here properly. Rider and I will go help the Saint."
Sisigou said his goodbyes to his Servant.
"Go on, go on. Just don't wake me up."
Mordred waved them off impatiently.
Before leaving, Sisigou gave her a helpless smile.
"From the start of the battle until now, Saber… you've really given it your all. Having such an outstanding Servant, only for me as a Master to hold you back—I'm truly sorry."
Mordred shook her head.
"That's not true at all. You're a great Master."
"Really?"
"Of course."
She then turned to Astolfo. "Hey, Astolfo. My Master is the best Master in the world. Don't you dare waste that."
"Oh."
Astolfo nodded blankly, not quite understanding why she said that.
Only after the two of them left did Mordred finally release the hand she'd been pressing against her abdomen.
It was soaked in blood.
"Tch. What a useless body." She muttered under her breath.
Earlier, she had relied on antidotes to deal with the Empress, but the poison inside her had already far exceeded what her body could endure.
Now, continuing to fight alongside her Master was no longer possible.
All she could do was remain here alone, quietly waiting for her end.
"Haha… this Holy Grail War was really a blast."
Meeting a like-minded Master, coming to understand her true desires—no matter how one looked at it, this journey into the world had been worth it.
"Father…"
In a daze, Mordred felt as though she had returned to that hill—
The battlefield where she had once faced her father, Arturia.
Earlier in the middle of the movie, Shinji had already shown this battle through Mordred's memories, allowing the audience to witness the brutality of war, and the clash between Mordred and Arturia herself.
Back then, through Mordred's perspective, the audience had already experienced the Battle of Camlann once.
But at that time, Mordred had not yet reached enlightenment. Toward Arturia, there was only confusion and hatred.
This left many viewers who had seen Fate/Stay Night deeply puzzled—because the Arturia shown in those memories looked like a complete villain, utterly different from the Camlann they remembered from earlier works.
Now, things were different.
With the emptiness in her heart finally filled, and her obsession with becoming king laid to rest, Mordred once more saw her father.
Yet this image was nothing like the invincible king standing tall on the battlefield that she had last seen in life.
Her father was leaning against a large tree, looking peaceful and serene—an expression Mordred had never once seen on her face before.
"I'm sorry, Bedivere."
Arturia smiled gently at the knight standing before her.
"This time… I may sleep for a little longer."
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"Isn't this straight out of Fate/Stay Night?"
Seeing this nostalgic scene, many veteran Fate fans in the audience cried out.
The image of the King of Knights sleeping beside the tree—how many fans had that beautiful shot converted into lifelong Arturia loyalists back in the day?
Unlike the majestic, awe-inspiring presence she had when first appearing, the Arturia sleeping beneath the tree was the most girlish version of her in Fate/Stay Night.
Naturally, the most emotional ones were the Three Idiots of the Round Table. All three were constantly wiping tears from the corners of their eyes, their faces filled with identical expressions of relief and joy.
In contrast, Arturia herself was remarkably calm.
No, "calm" wasn't quite the right word.
Rather, she was speechless.
She shot a sideways glance at her three malfunctioning knights and began mercilessly roasting them.
"This is truly moving. I almost feel like bursting into song."
"Please don't. You'll disturb the other viewers."
"I really wish Bedivere could see this. He'd probably ascend on the spot."
"Sir Bedivere isn't nearly as unhinged as the three of you."
"Ah, my king… at last, you have found rest."
"Hey, Gawain. I'm still alive, you know!"
Arturia let out a helpless sigh.
Based on her understanding of her Master's habits, she was certain that this 'death scene' of hers would be dragged out again plenty of times in the future.
Put politely, it was Fate fans indulging in nostalgia.
Put bluntly, it was milking her death over and over to stimulate audience spending.
Arturia didn't really mind Shinji exploiting her, after all, the more she appeared on screen, the more pocket money she got, and the more delicious food she could buy.
The problem was that every single time she "died" on the big screen, the idiots around her went through this whole routine again.
Her feelings were… complicated.
"Next time—absolutely, definitely—I am not watching a movie with the three of you."
"My king, you can't do this to us—!" ×3
The Three Idiots of the Round Table let out mournful cries.
On the big screen, after bidding Bedivere good night, the king closed her eyes as if she had truly fallen asleep.
Looking at that face—free of regret, filled only with peace—tears began to fall uncontrollably.
"Is this a dream? No… it must be a dream. I really am too self-indulgent…"
Mordred spoke through sobs.
Whether it was a dream or not, she hoped this was how her father's story truly ended.
A king who had lived her entire life as a saint, departing the world at the final moment as a simple human.
Nothing could have made Mordred happier than that.
In the sky, birds spread their wings and flew toward the far side of the heavens—a symbol of freedom from all bonds.
In the hall, Mordred, like her father, closed her eyes as though falling asleep, and slowly faded away.
In the end, all that remained in the vast, empty hall was endless silence.
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Tn: I updated the story once every 2 days, but if you want to see more chapter of this story ahead of time, please go to my Patreon.
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