Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King [138]

Credits: Shadow260802

With Sanzang's wisdom, it was easy for her to discern Alaric's desires and intentions after spending several months together.

Yet, precisely because she grew too close to him, Sanzang found herself unable to accurately express what she ought to say.

It wasn't until she, Fujimaru Ritsuka, and others visited King Hassan and met Alaric again that Sanzang finally figured out what to tell him.

Alaric, a man with an unknown year of birth and no official records—though Sanzang couldn't help but feel he was younger than her.

Thus, Sanzang believed it was her responsibility, as a mentor, to say:

"You have to live, you idiot!"

Beneath the chilly moonlight, Sanzang's serious expression brought warmth to Alaric's heart.

Since appearing in this singularity, everyone had extended a hand to help him. The pure goodwill of others had carried him this far.

Even though Alaric had resorted to extremes out of his will to survive, it was Sanzang's guidance that helped him find balance. Without that encounter and her teachings, Alaric had no idea what he would have become after six months.

Gazing at Sanzang's earnest face, Alaric took a deep breath and smiled, "I'll survive, foolish teacher. Haven't you seen all my efforts?"

But Sanzang wouldn't buy it, puffing up her cheeks angrily as she glared at him. "You're going to make me cry!"

"I'm pouring my heart out to you, even Wukong wouldn't be this stubborn!"

Seeing Sanzang's puffed-up cheeks, Alaric set aside his smile and fell into silence.

At that moment, he understood Sanzang's intent: this was a heart-to-heart before their impending battle with the Lion King. If there was anything left to say, now was the time.

As Alaric sank deeper into thought, Sanzang grew even more furious, far surpassing the anger she had shown towards Ozymandias days ago. "There were better ways—why did you wait until now? Why gamble on such uncertainty at this point?"

Ozymandias chose isolation because he was certain that battling the Lion King would lead to mutual destruction, leaving nothing to protect.

Alaric, on the other hand, was the opposite. Without certainty, he held onto a small spark of hope inspired by Sanzang, yet refused to act until now.

If only he had acted sooner—if only he had spoken earlier—he might still have a chance to live.

Having left the Holy City, Sanzang could see now.

Alaric was familiar with this singularity and had connections with various Servants—Ozymandias, the People of the Mountain, and the Knights of the Round Table alike.

If Alaric had been willing, he could have orchestrated a battle against the Lion King months ago on the same scale as the current one.

Moreover, if Alaric had asked, Sanzang would have done everything in her power to save her foolish disciple.

Alaric didn't deserve to die with the past. That kind of death was far too tragic.

Sanzang recalled King Hassan's words, and her anger toward Alaric surged even higher, causing her Nine-Ringed Staff to silently transform into the Ruyi Jingu Bang.

Seeing the staff transform, Alaric's eyebrow twitched, and he finally spoke: "It's no use. If I had acted before now, I would have been killed. I don't want to die, especially not at the hands of the Lion King. I had no choice but to wait."

Alaric touched his chest, vividly remembering the strike that pierced him during the Lionheart King campaign half a year ago. The scar it left on his chest was permanent.

That event marked the moment Alaric truly realized the Lion King's ruthlessness.

Without Bedivere's presence, Alaric had no chance of rekindling the Lion King's humanity.

Though he didn't know the Lion King's purpose in sparing him, every time their eyes met, those godlike eyes that could peer into souls made Alaric feel utterly exposed.

For six months, he moved as a Round Table Knight, awaiting the arrival of Fujimaru Ritsuka and the long-delayed Bedivere.

If Bedivere had reached the Holy City sooner, nothing could have stopped Alaric—not Gawain, not Mordred.

Alaric would have led Bedivere directly to the Lion King, ending everything then and there, leaving only the unresolvable Holy Grail.

And Alaric wouldn't have needed to gamble on slim hope now.

It would have been a completely different future.

Hearing Alaric's explanation, Sanzang became even angrier: "Then why didn't you just tell the Lion King? As her knight, just shout it at her—you don't want to die!"

"We Servants are already dead, but you're different. You're alive, with a future like Fujimaru and the others. You must not die here! Argh! If the Buddha and Bodhisattvas could hear you, they'd slap you awake!"

Fuming, Sanzang stomped her feet in frustration, completely losing her dignified monk composure.

Smack!

Alaric caught the Ruyi Jingu Bang, trying to calm Sanzang down, but its massive weight nearly slipped from his grasp.

"Alright, alright, Master Sanzang."

Alaric's face remained calm, but the veins bulging on his neck revealed his struggle.

How is it even heavier than before?

Discreetly handing the staff back, Alaric smiled and said, "Don't worry. I'll survive. I've been borrowing Hermes for months—everything's calculated. The chances are good!"

"You are an idiot—"

Seeing Alaric's usual demeanor, Sanzang sighed, just about to continue when—

Rustle.

A sound in the distance interrupted them.

"It feels like a little chat before a final stand, doesn't it?"

Alaric turned helplessly toward the source of the voice, spotting a silver-haired figure gazing at him blankly.

The Round Table Knight, Bedivere, had overheard their conversation. Though Alaric and Sanzang had noticed his approach, they tacitly ignored it.

While Sanzang might have been too angry to notice, Alaric simply didn't care. Whether others knew of his end didn't matter to him.

"Is that... how it is?"

Bedivere's lips trembled as he stared at Alaric in disbelief.

Having heard everything, Bedivere finally understood Alaric's motives.

Seeing this, Alaric sighed and ran over, casually draping an arm around Bedivere's shoulder.

"Yeah, that's how it is. But don't overthink it, alright? You've got your tasks tomorrow."

Alaric tapped Bedivere's chest armor and grinned. "I'm not some pitiable soul. Sanzang can scold me all she wants, but don't you give me those pitying eyes, Sir Bedivere."

"But—"

Bedivere's expression twisted in pain, ignoring the aches of his own body as he stared at Alaric. "Doesn't this mean you're destined to die?"

If only Bedivere were the one to die, he could accept it as the end of his atonement. He only wished for the sins caused by the king to end there.

But if Alaric's death was inevitable—

"This job is too cruel. None of my friends have a happy ending, and I'm no different. But I sincerely hope for a better outcome for all of you, Sir Bedivere."

Alaric patted Bedivere on the shoulder, smiling. "Whether it's atonement or loyalty, everyone deserves to die without regret."

Yet Bedivere couldn't bring himself to smile.

His fear of meeting the king seemed to vanish, replaced by overwhelming guilt toward Alaric.

To Bedivere, every tragedy, including Alaric's, stemmed from his actions.

He had hoped that once everything ended, Alaric could return to a normal life. Never did he imagine this would be the outcome.

"Sir Alaric—"

A heavy voice suddenly called out from afar.

"Quite the gathering tonight."

Alaric sighed, his gaze meeting the fiery-haired figure approaching—Fujimaru Ritsuka.

Fujimaru hadn't expected to overhear such a heavy conversation when she came looking for Bedivere.

If it had been mere gossip, Fujimaru could have joked along. But this time, the topic was too grave.

"You wouldn't forget about me, would you, Miss Ritsuka?"

Alaric's smile faded as he locked eyes with her.

Unlike everyone else present, Fujimaru Ritsuka would be the only one to remember Alaric. He didn't want to be remembered with pity.

Fujimaru nodded firmly. "I won't, Sir Alaric. I'll remember you forever."

As humanity's final Master, having endured numerous singularities, Fujimaru once again displayed her unyielding resolve.

Though she hadn't witnessed Alaric's past efforts firsthand, their time together had shown her his determination to save the world.

Now, she finally understood him.

"Is there no other way? Like returning to Chaldea together?"

Even so, Fujimaru still sought a way to save him.

"Spiritron transfer could work, but I can't use it. Thank you for the thought, Miss Ritsuka. I hope we'll meet again someday."

Alaric's radiant smile didn't betray any hint of worry, ensuring no one else would fret over him.

Under the faint moonlight, Alaric's tale quietly reached its end.

Only Mash and Romani remained unaware of it all.

...

Time passed quickly.

As the night deepened, Alaric returned to where he belonged—

The white castle—Camelot!

Camelot was now under siege, with Lancelot's forces and Ozymandias's divine beast army launching ferocious attacks simultaneously.

At the gates of Camelot, the Sun Knight Gawain stood still, awaiting Alaric's arrival.

Mordred's death, Lancelot's betrayal—everything stemmed from Alaric, the rebel knight whom Gawain once saw as a successor.

A wanderer from a foreign land, accepted by the king but destined to rebel.

Yet Alaric's smile didn't waver, though deep inside, he was shouting:

King Hassan, where are you?!