The next stop is holy city Camelot

Arash turned slightly, his sleeves rolled high as he handed a flatbread package to a traveler standing right in front of me. His movements were calm and practiced—like someone long used to helping others without expecting anything in return.

Even in a place like this, far from the battlefield, that gentle strength still radiated from him.

A hero who once sacrificed himself to save thousands of lives... now selling bread and water in a dusty little market in a nearly forgotten desert town.

It felt almost unreal.

As the traveler gave a slight nod in thanks and walked away, I stepped forward, keeping my head lowered so the shadow of my hood would cover my face. My fingers clenched the coins in my hand tightly.

"Bread and water, please," I said, deliberately lowering my voice—flatter, calmer. The voice of a wanderer, not… a king.

Arash looked at me for a moment. His eyes searched, as if looking for something familiar. My heart tensed instantly.

But he only smiled.

"Long journey?"

I gave a small nod, letting my body seem tired. "A few days. The desert's not kind."

He chuckled lightly, starting to wrap the bread and pour water into a leather pouch. "Many come here for the Holy City. You heading there too?"

Holy City… Camelot.

I paused for a moment, just a breath. Then nodded. "Just heard stories. Thought maybe it's time to see for myself. Maybe stay, or… look for work."

"Plenty heading that way. Not all return," Arash replied as he handed the package to me. "But if you're lucky, you might find someone to travel with. Safer that way."

"Thank you," I said softly, placing a few coins on his wooden counter. "You've been a great help."

He smiled again, this time more gently. "It's my duty."

Just as I turned to vanish into the sea of people busy with trade and travel, a light touch landed on my shoulder.

I froze.

Her touch was gentle—but in a place like this, even the smallest thing could be the beginning of a disaster. Instinctively, my fingers brushed the edge of my cloak, ready to flee at a moment's notice.

Slowly, I turned.

And for a moment, the world seemed to stop.

Standing before me were three figures I knew all too well.

A woman with a confident smile and an elegant aura—Leonardo da Vinci, the genius of Chaldea.

Beside her, a young man with short black hair and warm eyes—Fujimaru Ritsuka, Master of Chaldea.

And next to him, a girl with short, pink hair holding a large round shield—Mash Kyrielight, the brave Shielder.

They didn't recognize me.

And for now... I was grateful.

Their gazes swept over me briefly, not with suspicion, but with a faint curiosity—like they were trying to piece together a puzzle.

Maybe it was the way I stood too calmly, or the unusual aura I gave off.

Then Da Vinci stepped forward. Her movements were graceful as always, her posture relaxed, but the intellect and curiosity in her presence couldn't be hidden.

Her small hands were folded neatly in front of her chest, and the smile on her lips seemed to say: I know more than you think.

"Ah, pardon me," she said, her voice soft and soothing, like the whisper of an old book opening in a quiet library. "You are—"

"Sorry, but there are still many customers waiting," Arash interjected from behind the stall, his tone calm but meaningful.

He turned with a small, friendly smile, but it carried enough firmness. "If you want to chat, please find another place. I don't want anyone to go hungry just because we're standing around too long."

His words weren't harsh, but they were clear. He was busy, and he respected the time of everyone waiting in line.

Da Vinci paused, then let out a small laugh. She raised both hands, as if surrendering. "Of course, of course. My apologies, good merchant. I'll remember that."

Mash gave a small nod, her face slightly embarrassed, and Fujimaru chuckled before stepping aside.

I took a breath.

Da Vinci had almost said something. Something that could have unraveled everything I'd built.

But Arash… whether he realized it or not, he had saved me.

I glanced at him—just for a moment.

Even now, disguised as a simple merchant, he was still the Arash I knew—the archer who once sacrificed everything for peace. And even now, unknowingly, he continued to protect someone.

I tightened my fingers around the remaining coins in my hand.

"Next," he called casually, not looking my way again.

I walked away.

Threading my path back through the bustling marketplace, slipping between merchants, travelers, and townsfolk filling the city square.

My head remained bowed, my steps steady.

The shadow of my hood concealed an expression I couldn't allow anyone to see.

Name, face, purpose—all had to change if I wanted to survive.

But my heart remained fixed in one direction.

Camelot.

The place where it all began.

And perhaps... where it would all end.

The sun still hung high in the sky, bathing this sandy city in golden light. But I no longer cared to enjoy its warmth.

What I needed now was… space. Time to think. A place to breathe without constantly looking over my shoulder.

With slow steps, I slipped into a narrow alley between worn stone buildings.

The deep shadows welcomed me like an old friend. The noise of the lively market slowly faded behind me, becoming nothing more than a faint hum in my ears.

The sound of my footsteps echoed softly on the uneven stone path, passing under low-hanging cloth and stacks of crooked wooden crates.

But something was wrong.

Just faintly—like a whisper at the edge of awareness—but enough to set my instincts alight. I'd been watched too many times in my life not to recognize this sensation. A gaze that lingered too long. A silence that felt… off.

I turned.

And there they were.

Not directly behind me, but close enough.

Three figures I knew well. Da Vinci, with her sharp gaze as if she always knew more than she let on. Mash, calm yet alert, like a true warrior. And Fujimaru... walking with a relaxed attitude, but his expression couldn't hide his curiosity.

They were following me.

Not with ill intent, nor with suspicion. But clearly— they were intrigued.

Had Da Vinci seen through my disguise? Or was this just a coincidence? No, of course not. In this world, there's no such thing as coincidence. Especially when fate is involved.

I tightened my grip on my cloak. Then I quickened my pace, moving deeper into the alley.

This city is too narrow. Too exposed. I need a plan.

I stopped.

The narrow alley sank into silence. Only the wind whispered through the cracks, and the soft rustle of cloth echoed faintly.

I didn't turn immediately. I just stood still, my back to them, one hand lightly resting on the edge of my cloak—ready to vanish at any moment.

The silence hung for a moment before I finally spoke.

"What do you want?"

Fujimaru stepped forward. Calm. His expression open, no pressure.

"We don't mean to cause trouble," he said gently. "It's just... we can feel it. You're a Servant, aren't you?"

I didn't answer, but the tension in my shoulders was answer enough. Da Vinci squinted slightly, a small smile playing on her lips—sharp and filled with curiosity.

"We're from Chaldea," she added quietly. "We collect Servants summoned into this Singularity. Our mission is to restore the world... and we could use your help."

My head dipped slightly. My bangs covered my eyes.

Of course, they knew. I hadn't hidden my presence well enough. But still, traveling with them... while I wore this face... was far too dangerous.

But if a lie could give me time—and information—then that lie was worth maintaining.

I slowly looked up, meeting their gazes from beneath the shadow of my hood. My golden eyes met theirs.

Then I answered, calm but firm, "Yes. I am a Servant."

Mash tightened her grip on her shield, but she didn't seem wary—almost as if hoping.

"Then... may we know your name?" she asked gently.

I paused for a moment. A deep breath.

Then I spoke:

"Altria."

My voice was calm. Steadfast.

"A wandering knight. That's all."

Da Vinci studied my face, then raised an eyebrow, looking unfamiliar with the name. But she didn't comment. She simply nodded slowly.

"Well then, Altria," Fujimaru said, extending his hand. "Would you join us? At least... for a while?"

I looked at his hand.

Then, after a brief pause, I smiled slightly and turned away.

"Another time. There's still something I must do."

I walked away, leaving them in the shadow of the alley. But I knew they were still watching me.

For now, my role had succeeded. I had played according to the script.

But how long could this lie last?

And more importantly—

how long could I look into their eyes… while wearing the face of the King?

My footsteps echoed through the narrow alley until I finally emerged onto the quiet road, inhabited only by dust and the shadows of people hiding.

But their words couldn't be forgotten.

"Altria."

That name was still foreign on my tongue. A mask. But a mask I had to wear. For now.

I stopped for a moment, leaning against the warm stone wall, still holding the heat from the sun. The wind tugged at the edges of my cloak, and I pulled the hood tighter over my face.

I must not hesitate.

Not when I'm this close.

I had to see it with my own eyes.

Part of me regretted turning down their offer. It might have been easier if I had joined them.

But it would also have been riskier.

The longer I stayed near them, the greater the chance my lie would fall apart.

And I wasn't ready.

Not yet.

With a deep, steady breath, I resumed walking, letting my steps guide me away from the crowd and the shadows of the city I had left behind.

The towering stone gate slowly receded from my back, its silhouette fading into the dimming light of the evening. The desert air welcomed me with an almost sacred silence, brushing my face with hot winds carrying fine grains of sand. Each step I took left a faint trace in the seemingly endless sands.

The sky stretched wide, casting a golden light from the sun that was beginning to lean westward. In the distance, a mirage danced across the surface of the sand, creating an illusion of far-off cities that never truly existed.

I stood for a moment on the threshold of this world—between the civilization I had left behind and the lonely journey ahead of me.

No sound. No bustle of the market. Only the whisper of the wind and the beat of my heart, feeling more real than ever before.

This desert... felt like a test.

And for some reason, I felt like this was just the beginning.

.

.

.

The sky began to change color as I finally stopped walking. The golden-orange hue shifted to deep purple, and the shadows of night began to creep slowly across the desert expanse.

I stood in the middle of the endless sea of sand, my body covered in dust and exhaustion, yet my mind remained sharp. The night wind began to bite at my skin, cutting through my thin cloak.

"Enough for today..." I muttered softly.

With a quiet breath, I began to walk again. The desert wind rustled gently, carrying sand particles that danced in the golden air. My steps were steady as I passed through the last city gate—a small settlement standing at the edge of civilization, before the world became an endless ocean of sand.

The world before me was silent and vast, only colored by the roar of the wind and the faint silhouette of the holy city of Camelot visible on the horizon.

I paused for a moment and took a deep breath. Mana began to gather in the palms of my hands, forming a gentle swirl that shimmered in the sunlight. With a smooth motion, I pulled the mana into the air, and a transparent map began to form from the glowing particles.

The map of this world—the map of the Singularity—spread before me. I studied every line and contour carefully, my eyes tracing the winding paths that crossed the desert and ruins. Glowing dots indicated the locations of Servants and other entities in the area. My gaze quickly focused on a point at the edge of the map.

Camelot. The holy city. My destination.