The measure of a king—were they truly worthy of the title?
Ultimately, the King of Conquerors sought to use this verbal clash to prove to the other two kings that he was the most deserving of the Holy Grail.
"Worthy of the Holy Grail? That thing was originally mine to begin with. Trace its origins, and you'll find there isn't a single treasure in this world that didn't come from my treasury!"
"Then do you know the Holy Grail's true nature? Have you ever possessed it?"
"I do not. The total number of treasures in the world has long surpassed my knowledge. But if it is a treasure, it is undoubtedly mine. This so-called Holy Grail War is nothing more than a band of thieves attempting to steal what belongs to me."
The banquet had ended, but the wine had not run out; they had merely switched to smaller cups. Hearing these words, nearly identical to those from her past life, Guinevere couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle, drawing the gazes of the proud and momentarily speechless kings.
"Let me tell you, that Holy Grail thing should actually be mine," Guinevere declared. "Back when Camelot defeated Rome and conquered the European continent, the Roman Church presented the Holy Grail to me.
"Later, Galahad even embarked on a quest to find the Grail and truly brought it back for us to use as a wine goblet.
"King of Heroes, to claim that Camelot's spoils of war belong to you is rather shameless.
"Did that thuggish Noble Phantasm of yours give you such confidence?"
Hearing this, the King of Heroes' expression stiffened, his eyes narrowing slightly. For the first time, killing intent toward Guinevere rose within him. But this was a banquet, a battle of words, and the King of Conquerors quickly stepped in to smooth things over.
"Now, now, who ever said there could only be one Holy Grail in the world? Aren't there two different stories about the origin of the 'true' Grail?"
"Hmph. King of Conquerors, let's just say you're right for now," the King of Heroes sneered. "What else did you want to ask?"
Both the King of Heroes and Guinevere had claimed ownership of the Holy Grail, seemingly putting the King of Conquerors at a disadvantage. But he was the King of Conquerors, after all—his nature was to seize what did not belong to him.
If he didn't have it, he would simply take it.
So, after a laugh, he took another sip of wine and said, "This King wishes to ask what desires you intend to entrust to the Holy Grail. If those wishes can be fulfilled without the Grail's power, perhaps we need not come to blows."
"In that case, King of Conquerors, since you proposed this, shouldn't you go first?"
Leaning against the King of Knights' leg and drinking from the cup in her hand, Guinevere watched as the King of Knights, truly starting to feel the effects of the wine, nodded her head drowsily. Yet, she still pricked up her ears, listening intently to the conversation between the King of Conquerors and the King of Heroes.
As Guinevere already knew, the King of Conquerors' wish was for a living, physical body—a starting point from which he would conquer the world once more.
The King of Heroes, on the other hand, had no wish. He had initially joined the war to eliminate the "thieves" but had since decided he might bestow the Holy Grail upon Tohsaka. That said, Tohsaka was increasingly displeasing him with his excessive personal ambitions.
"Your turn, King of Knights. Tell us the wish you would make to the Holy Grail."
In truth, Guinevere had allowed the Banquet of Kings to proceed—and even prepared such a lavish spread—with a specific goal in mind: to let outsiders challenge the King of Knights. Since she couldn't change the King of Knights' mind herself, she hoped to find some help from others.
Of course, she wouldn't allow the King of Knights to be truly humiliated.
"Me?"
Her eyes hazy with drink, sated with food and wine, the King of Knights was already leaning into the arms of Guinevere, who had made herself slightly larger to accommodate her.
"To be honest, I personally have no wish left," the King of Knights began, her voice thick with emotion. "I just can't bear Guinevere's current reputation. She gave so much for Camelot."
As she spoke, the King of Knights closed her eyes. A single, crystalline tear unexpectedly escaped the corner of her eye, which she quickly wiped away.
Drunk and talkative, the King of Knights began to tell Guinevere's story.
"She established the Knight Academy for Camelot, laying the foundation for our conquest of Europe. She reconciled me with my sister, so I no longer had to engage in those chaotic affairs with her. She pushed back the Church's influence from Camelot, establishing the authority of the crown over the Church for the first time...
"She also promoted agriculture and animal husbandry, commissioned irrigation projects, and fostered good relations with the mages, devising strategies to navigate Camelot through the Decline of Mystery.
"She even shouldered the reputation of a ruthless killer for my sake, eliminating all the vassal kings of Great Britain and enabling Camelot to achieve true centralized power for the first time."
"She was even willing to bear infamy alongside the other knights, all so that I could overcome fate and survive Camlann Hill."
The King of Knights poured out these words in a single breath—truths unrecorded in the falsified histories.
"I can say with certainty that without Guinevere, Camelot would have met an end I would forever regret. I would have become a fool who lamented ever becoming king.
"Now, I cherish my meeting with Guinevere. I love the Mordred we raised together. I am content with our quiet retirement after the Battle of Camlann, living out our days until we passed away together under the morning sun.
"So, what's wrong with wanting to correct the world? What's wrong with wanting future generations to have a proper understanding of Guinevere?"
"But if you truly return to the past and negate everything we did to ensure your survival, then you would be in the wrong! You would be betraying our devotion! Didn't you see Lancelot's recording? Did he ever once care about the infamy he bore?"
The King of Knights spoke as if in a drunken frenzy. Yet, as she finished pouring out her heart, Guinevere's gaze softened with unprecedented tenderness, and her heart filled with an unparalleled warmth.
But she couldn't bring herself to let the King of Knights die for the sake of her own reputation, nor could she bear to step into a doomed Lostbelt alongside her.
As observers, the King of Conquerors and the King of Heroes had grasped the core of the couple's conflict, but they didn't know what to say.
Should they advise the King of Knights to prioritize the people of Camelot? That wasn't in their nature at all.
On the contrary, they rather admired the selfishness of both the King of Knights and Guinevere, finding their attitudes quite to their liking.
"Speaking of which," the King of Conquerors interjected, "after being summoned by Little Master, I came across a line in an unofficial history of Camelot.
"It recorded that Caster once said: 'A king should be the one with the greatest greed, the loudest laughter, and the fiercest rage...'
"I quite like that sentiment."
Guinevere had no idea why the King of Conquerors was suddenly bringing this up. He had lived more than eight hundred years before Camelot, and he certainly hadn't uttered such a definitive statement during his lifetime.
Though his words made her heart flutter and her cheeks flush, the alcohol concealed her reaction. More importantly, it meant she couldn't be accused of plagiarism.
And without keeping her waiting, the King of Conquerors continued:
"So, I'll stay out of your marital issues. Right now, I'm just envious. Why couldn't I have had a queen like her back in my day—one skilled in both scholarship and warfare, who could have helped me lead my kingdom to a brighter future?"
"Hmph," the King of Heroes sneered. "The King of Conquerors has a point. King of Knights, if your conflict with Caster is truly irreconcilable, you can give her to me. I certainly wouldn't let her bear the infamy of history."
"King of Heroes, I will personally take your head!"
Rage overwhelmed the effects of the alcohol. The Sword of Promised Victory materialized in her hand, and a violent gale surged toward the King of Heroes, only to be blocked by a massive shield that appeared before him.
"What's this? Flustered into a rage?" the King of Heroes taunted. "My words are not wrong. If you intend to negate everything she has done for you, then by all means, give her to me.
"She is willing to bear the infamy of history for your sake, and this is how you repay her? King of Knights, if you truly understand the human heart, then you should simply treat her well—now and in the future!"
Ah, the King of Heroes... He truly understood human emotions far better than the King of Knights. After all, he was the king who could see through Kirei Kotomine's true nature at a single glance.