The battle was over.
The white dragon, born from the source of time, dispelled the despair and rage cloaking the island, restoring its calm.
... A tranquility before death.
"I'm sorry, but could you give us a little more time?"
The excess white wings gradually vanished, and the majestic Abyss-Eyes White Dragon reverted to its original form.
Artoria's soul returned to her body, and the king of the end, having fulfilled her task, opened her eyes once more.
She knew she was no longer a king, and this land no longer needed one.
But what did that matter?
Even without her title, she would continue to protect the smiles of the people on this island.
"For now, let's gather everyone!"
Artoria began the work of rebuilding Camelot.
But it wasn't just Camelot that needed restoration.
... Due to the Britannian dragon's sudden manifestation, most of the island's structures had been destroyed.
As for the people… they were alive, but only just.
"Everyone, put in a bit more effort!"
"Let's get some basic shelters built first!"
It was as if they'd returned to that small valley.
Artoria rallied the dazed citizens, unaware of what had transpired, and threw herself into rebuilding the kingdom once again.
... This time, however, they had no aid from gods or fae.
"Hey, no way, we have to do this all over again?"
Kay groaned, already picturing himself leading a group to chop wood in the mountains all night.
"Come on, Sir Kay, I'll make sure the kitchen prepares some hearty stew."
Bedivere chuckled, punching Kay's shoulder before diving into the post-disaster reconstruction.
The remaining Knights of the Round Table joined the effort.
They were knights who fought alongside the king... this was their battlefield, and they would not falter.
"But winter's coming soon, isn't it?"
"This winter will be tough. Many won't survive."
"There's no helping it, is there? Honestly, these people should've died long ago... they only lived this long thanks to the grace of the god and the king."
The flower magus, knowing all, spoke cruel words in a gentle tone.
Then, after one last look at the world, he turned, his body dissolving into petals, scattered by a breeze from nowhere.
The age of mystery had ended.
It was time for him to return to where he belonged.
…
Three months later.
When the harsh winter finally passed, a spring rain awakened the earth's vitality.
Artoria's work was nearing its end.
"Thank you all for your help."
"Working alongside you has been my greatest honor."
Though resources were scarce, with farewells imminent, Artoria prepared what little food remained to host a banquet for the departing Knights of the Round Table.
It was also her own farewell feast.
The age of mystery was over, and the king, born by heaven's mandate, had to leave this island that no longer needed her, to go where she belonged.
... Avalon, the utopia only the sinless may enter.
"Is everything in the world settled?"
"Yes, mostly. The rest I'll leave to Percival."
Percival, the knight who admired the king most. In the original timeline, he won a princess's favor, married her, and became a king in his own right... one of the few Knights of the Round Table to meet a good end.
"It feels a bit unfair to him… but at this point, we can only trust him."
The final banquet concluded.
Artoria patted Kay's shoulder... the usually boisterous knight was uncharacteristically silent, not uttering a single word throughout.
"I'm leaving now."
"Don't you have anything to say to me, Brother Kay?"
"…"
The no-longer-young knight opened his mouth.
He seemed ready to grumble… but when the words came, they were blessings he'd never spoken before.
"There's nothing to say."
"Just… don't starve yourself, alright?"
…
The Reverse Side of the World, the Tower of the End.
Led by Artoria, the heroic spirits of the Round Table gathered here once more.
From whence they came, to whence they returned... a fitting cycle.
"But before you leave, there's one last thing to do."
Merlin, unseen for some time, appeared at the tower's door and gently pushed it ajar.
In an instant, dazzling golden light spilled through the crack, illuminating all of Avalon.
The Holy Grail.
The true Holy Grail stood quietly at the tower's center, awaiting its destined "chosen one."
"Go on, what are you waiting for?"
Seeing Mash hesitate, Mordred gave her shoulder a firm push.
"Me?"
Mash, standing before the Grail, wavered... uncertain if she was truly worthy to touch it.
"Who else? Me?"
"It's obvious the Grail was meant for you!"
"We don't need the Grail's power to return to our world."
Mordred patted her armor, looking smug.
... Though what she was so proud of was anyone's guess.
But that was just Mordred's nature. An innate optimist, as long as nothing went wrong, it was already a grand victory in her eyes.
Perhaps that's what they call a troublemaker... give her three days without a scolding, and she'd climb the roof.
"Well, goodbye, everyone…"
Mash's hand touched the Grail.
As Mordred predicted, the moment her palm met it, her body reacted.
The Grail erupted in radiant golden light, transforming Mash's form into faint golden particles.
Feeling the world's rejection, Mash held back tears, smiling as she bid farewell to her comrades.
And at that moment...
"Fou!"
A familiar white figure suddenly leaped from afar, landing on her.
"Huh?"
Mash looked up, startled, meeting Alaric's gaze.
"Looks like this little one wants to go with you."
"Please take good care of it."
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