The top floor of the hotel was not open to the public. Combined with the hotel's comprehensive amenities and the fact that the rooftop was entirely unadorned—presenting a rather rough, industrial appearance—guests rarely felt the need to venture up there. Only the staff responsible for cleaning or machinery maintenance would occasionally pass through to work.
Consequently, Artoria stood alone by the ten-story-high railing, lost in thought as she gazed at the city skyline, undisturbed by anyone.
"So you were here after all." Ludwig's voice pulled her thoughts back to reality.
She turned around. "It's nothing. I was simply observing the area to see if any enemies had tracked us down. If a battle is to occur, we should do our best to avoid involving innocent civilians."
Then, Artoria looked at Ludwig with a hint of confusion. "Though... you seem a bit strange, Ludwig."
"It's nothing. I just got teased by that woman," the boy said, shrugging as he attempted to mask his embarrassment with feigned indifference.
He didn't quite know how to explain to Artoria that he had "eaten" the succubus—or rather, been "eaten" by her. Currently, Merlin was pointedly taking a shower in his bathroom, saying things like, "I'll be waiting for round two when Lutz gets back."
"Merlin used magecraft to tamper with the area. Any Servants or familiars trying to monitor or track us will lose our trail the moment they get near the hotel blocks," Ludwig said, quickly changing the subject.
Artoria offered a small smile. "No matter the world, Merlin's illusions are always breathtakingly impressive."
"Besides, it's not nightfall yet. No Master wants to risk being hunted down by other factions—or worse, by the Mages' Association and the Holy Church—by starting a fight at this hour," Ludwig said, then paused, shaking his head. "Wait, with Caster in the mix, it's hard to say."
"True," Artoria nodded. "I am concerned about that as well."
"You seem particularly wary of Caster. Did you know him in life?" Ludwig asked.
"No, I did not." Artoria shook her head. "He calls himself Gilles de Rais and insists that I am Joan of Arc. He claims my memories have been stripped away and that I've forgotten. His intrusion into the Einzbern forest was for that very reason."
"Joan of Arc?" Ludwig's eyes widened. He pulled out a terminal and began scanning a database. "I see... so that Caster was a noble general who once followed Joan into battle. After her death, he became obsessed with alchemy and various dark arts, murdering countless innocents. He was eventually exposed, tried, and executed. He's known to history by the epithet 'Bluebeard'..."
"Yet another example of a hero's fall," Artoria sighed.
There was no shortage of such heroes in her era. Every one of the Knights of the Round Table under her command was a hero beyond compare, yet even with such greatness gathered together, they ultimately failed to save anything.
"In short, Caster has fixated on you for some very deranged reasons, and now the overseer of the Holy Grail War has issued a subjugation order," Ludwig said with a nod of understanding. "Once we've dealt with the primary issues, if Caster hasn't been taken out by another faction yet, we'll finish him ourselves."
"Do you not intend to strike first to replenish your Command Spells, Master?" Saber asked, a bit curious.
Command Spells were precious resources and a primary means of restraining a Servant.
"Does having them really matter? If you wanted to betray me, you'd do it once the spells were spent anyway. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't rely on a Command Spell to get the job done," Ludwig said, looking at the marks on his hand. "Don't you agree?"
Artoria couldn't help but chuckle. "I suppose so. My new Master is exceptionally confident—and possesses the strength to back that confidence up."
"Enough with the pleasantries," Ludwig said, waving his hand dismissively. "You look like you have something on your mind. Did that woman say something to you?"
"She only asked about the other King Arthur," Artoria said. "I've wondered... if I had been a man, perhaps these problems wouldn't have existed. For instance, the matter between Guinevere and Lancelot..."
Ludwig leaned in, intrigued. "According to the legends I know, didn't they have an affair? Agravain caught them, and Lancelot killed several Knights of the Round Table during the escape. Later, he slaughtered even more when he raided the execution grounds to save the Queen."
"Yes..." Artoria's eyes dimmed. For her, these were heart-wrenching memories.
"But you don't seem to hate Lancelot. Nor do you hate Guinevere." Ludwig turned, leaning against the dusty railing, intently watching Artoria's profile.
"As you can see, I am a woman, but I presented myself as a man to ascend the throne. To maintain the stability of the kingdom, I had to take a Queen. I swore to love Guinevere as a man... but a marriage that was nothing more than a facade only plunged her into misery."
"And so, Lancelot stepped in?" Ludwig asked.
Artoria frowned. "Please do not use such phrasing to describe my knight. Sir Lancelot was my friend, my pride, and my ideal of a knight. His actions were born of sincerity, not selfish desire. I believe in him."
Her tone was clear and ethereal, her eyes unstained and pure—proof that these words were no hollow sentiment.
"You pardoned... no, you forgave Lancelot and Guinevere? You even gave them your blessing?" Ludwig's eyes were wide.
"Because it was the right thing to do. I believed my judgment was correct," Artoria said, her fists tightening. "But in the end, it was that very judgment—the one I thought was right—that caused the Round Table to fracture and ultimately brought ruin to Britain..."
Speaking of her past life again, Artoria was filled with a familiar tide of regret and pain.
"Setting aside right or wrong for a moment," Ludwig said, shifting his gaze back to the city skyline, his voice sounding oddly clear. "You simply wanted others to be happy, didn't you?"
"Yes. That was my hope. It is just that the outcome was not what I desired." Artoria looked up.
"If others are happy, you feel happy. Just as you feel joy now seeing this peaceful city, watching people live their quiet, tranquil lives," Ludwig observed.
"I spent my life in constant warfare and governance. Building an era like this was all I ever sought." Artoria lowered her gaze.
She knew Britain was destined for destruction; she had only hoped that the end would be as peaceful as a dream, rather than a hell of blood and fire.
"But even if you built an eternally happy thousand-year kingdom, it would all vanish the moment the planet meets its end," Ludwig said softly. "Which side is truly more cruel?"
"Regarding that..." Artoria hesitated.
She knew that the weight Ludwig carried in his heart was no less than her own. The only difference was that he didn't view it as his responsibility alone, which gave him a sense of freedom she lacked.
The destruction of a nation versus the end of the world—which one was more painful?
Finally, she spoke again.
"Both are cruel. That is why one must do everything in their power to fulfill their responsibility."
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