Victory.

Artorius's defence was impenetrable, credit to his body. He could sense an attack before it even began. Yet his offence lagged behind. A-Rank Instinct could shield him, but it couldn't drive his strikes. He still wasn't fully attuned to his own speed; at times, his body moved just a beat out of sync with his intent.

His vertical slash carved a line down Elsa's fair skin, from chest to hip. The windy force of the swing, even without full precision, sent her hurtling back, crashing through the wooden walls of a nearby house.

Breathing heavily, Artorius pressed a hand to his side. His armour and layered clothing had hidden the injury well enough before. Now, stripped of his plate, a dark, spreading stain bloomed on his shirt, soaking it through with his blood.

"Artorius, you're bleeding!" Emilia rushed to his side, reaching out to heal him.

"Lady Emilia. It's not over yet." He gestured weakly to the ruined house.

From the splintered remains, Elsa emerged, smiling — but it wasn't quite the same. Her grin, always unsettling, now seemed strained. And the wound he had given her wasn't healing.

"You think you can get away with wrecking my house?!" Rom roared, barreling toward her. "I don't care if you're the bowel hunter or whatnot — eat dirt!" He swung his club with wild force, but Elsa weaved around his strikes with ease. Artorius stayed where he was, letting Emilia work on his wound as best she could.

"It's not healing," she muttered. "The wound isn't closing. Why!?" Emilia's hands trembled as she pressed against his side, blood still slipping through her fingers.

'Strange,' Artorius thought. 'Even after losing this much blood, I'm not dizzy. My breathing's steady. Only my muscles ache, cramping up everywhere…'

Then the realisation hit him like a truck.

"Lady Emilia, can you conjure a reflective ice shard? Like a mirror."

"What are you talking about? You're bleeding—"

"It's important. Please." The urgency in his voice made her pause, then nod. With a wave of her hand, she shaped a thin, translucent slab of ice.

Accepting it, Artorius channelled the faintest trickle of mana into his eyes. Before looking into the reflection, he turned to Emilia and said, his voice steady despite the pain, "Please—assist Rom and Felt. They'll need you."

Class: Saber

True Name: Arthur Pendragon

Strength: B+

Endurance: D (B)

Agility: A+ (A)

Luck: D

The stats were nearly the same, except for two critical changes in Endurance and Agility. But that wasn't his concern. His eyes moved past the parameters, scanning down through Class Skills, and finally, Personal Skills.

***

Rom swung, aiming to crush Elsa's bones with the full weight of his heavy club. She slipped around the blow like a snake, slicing open his abdomen in a single motion. She lunged for the killing blow, but Felt's knife caught her hand mid-air, forcing her back.

Before she could recover, a blast of ice forced her to retreat. Landing some distance away, Elsa glanced past them and saw Artorius approaching.

He moved slowly, almost leisurely. And he was smiling.

"Lady Emilia," he said calmly, sparing a glance at Rom, who was still breathing despite the deep wound. His thick muscles had likely saved him. "Please heal him. I will take care of her."

Without waiting for a reply, he advanced on Elsa, that same smile carved into his face.

"You know," he said, voice light, "I just had a eureka moment."

"Oh? And what would that be?" Elsa crouched low, daggers ready. Her senses screamed at her that something was wrong.

Artorius placed a hand on his chest, running it slowly across his armorless body.

"My heart isn't beating," he said.

Elsa's brows knitted in confusion.

"Don't misunderstand," he continued, still smiling. "As a human, yes, my heart's pumps blood. It does its job. But that's all it does."

King Arthur was the incarnation of the Red Dragon of Albion. His heart was that of a dragon, no, rather, his heart itself was a dragon. The magical energy it generated rivalled the heat at the Earth's core.

In simpler terms, he was a walking, breathing nuclear reactor. And now, all he needed was the key to ignite it.

Badump

A single heartbeat thundered through the ruined streets, resonating across the battlefield.

Steam poured from his mouth as he exhaled pure magical energy, saturating the air and overwriting the mana in it with his own.

Elsa's eyes widened. She made her move, sprinting forward to kill him before he finished whatever he had started but it was already too late.

『Sign of the Red Dragon』

With a soundless explosion of mana, Artorius disappeared and reappeared, crashing head-first into Elsa.

The impact drove her to the ground with a sickening crack. Artorius tumbled once from the force of it, landing lightly on his feet farther down the street.

He staggered slightly. Even with his evolved reflexes, he could barely register his own speed.

But he didn't stop.

He charged.

Elsa rose, battered but not broken, her daggers flashing in the pale light. They met in a violent clash, her blades against his invisible sword.

Blow for blow. Sparks danced in the air.

Each breath he took unleashed waves of mana. His heart radiated heat strong enough to make the puddles at their feet boil. The injury at his side throbbed with every movement, but the overwhelming surge of power drowned out the pain.

He blocked.

He dodged.

He parried.

He kicked her in the stomach, twisting her spine most unnaturally, breaking her hips, arms and ribs. But Elsa continued to engage him, jumping from rubble and buildings, she attacked him from all sides, not giving him another chance to unleash any unexpected attacks.

But most of all, she did her absolute best to avoid his obnoxious sword. The cut from earlier still hadn't healed. A good hit from him might mean the end for her. It was mortal combat where both parties had an equal chance of killing each other. It made her heartbeat faster, she wanted to fight him to the bitter-sweet end, open him up and bathe in his insides.

Artorius readied Strike Air once more, mana surging violently around him. This time, the blow would be decisive. The end. Across from him, Elsa also committed fully, abandoning defence, prepared to risk everything in one final clash.

This was it. The moment when everything would be decided.

And then —

"That's enough," a voice cut sharply through the battlefield.

All eyes turned to the newcomer: a red-haired man, sword at his side, walking into the fray with the calm demeanour of a one-man army. He stepped between them, and the very air seemed to still around him.

"I suggest you surrender, Bowel Hunter. There are many things I'd like to ask you."

Reinhard van Astrea had arrived on the battlefield.

Elsa laughed lightly, almost giddy. "Reinhard. A knight among knights, born of the Sword Saint's bloodline. How wonderful~ all my opponents today have been so fun."

But her smile faded slightly. "Unfortunately," she said, "my time is up. I'll be leaving now."

"You think I'll let you?" Artorius spoke up, lowering Strike Air but keeping his body tense, ready to give chase.

"I'm sure you will~" Elsa purred. She pulled something from her pocket.

The Royal Insignia.

"That's—!" Emilia gasped, immediately recognising it.

"Without this, little girl," Elsa said, her grin widening, "you won't even be considered a Royal Candidate. How about it? Let me go, and I'll return it... nice and safe."

Silence weighed heavily over the battlefield.

"Well?" Elsa pressed, mocking. "What do you say?"

"I… I…" Emilia faltered. She wanted to stop Elsa, but the consequences of losing the insignia, of losing her candidacy, were too great. Her enemies would seize on it. They already hated her for being a half-elf; this would be the final nail in her coffin.

"Go," Artorius ordered, his voice steady. He lowered his sword, and with a shimmer of mana, his armour materialised around him once again, signalling he would not pursue.

"Artorius!" Emilia protested, looking torn, biting her lip so hard it almost bled.

"Go. Drop the insignia," he repeated, unwavering.

A satisfied glint flickered in Elsa's eyes. "I knew you'd see it my way." She tossed her hair over her shoulder and smirked.

"Still... It's a little embarrassing, don't you think? The infamous Bowel Hunter, chased off by an injured hobo, an old giant, and a brat with a butterknife."

Elsa's eye twitched. Reinhard's mouth twitched as well, a smile hidden behind polite silence.

Emilia looked somewhere between mortified and horrified that Artorius was taunting a serial killer.

"What?" Artorius said innocently. "History's written by the victors. And clearly, we're the winners here."

"You bring shame to knights," Elsa muttered with an exasperated sigh. This man, she thought, would make a far better villain than a hero.

"Fortunately," Artorius replied with a wicked grin, "I'm no longer a knight."

Deciding she'd humoured them enough, Elsa crouched and placed the insignia gently on the ground but kept her foot poised over it, ready to crush it at the slightest provocation.

"Next time," she said, voice dropping low, "it'll be different, boy."

Her purple eyes shifted, gleaming crimson with malice.

"This is my line, saggy breasts," Artorius said flatly.

Elsa's grin stretched wider. She looked thrilled by his defiance.

"Keep yourself bowels safe, boy," she purred. "Because you are mine."

She pressed a hand against her wounded chest; the slash he had given her was still festering, stubbornly refusing to heal.

"My name is Elsa Granheirt. And I'll repay this scar you've given me, mark my words."

Without waiting for a reply, she spun on her heel and leapt backwards, vanishing into the ruins with inhuman speed.

Artorius exhaled quietly, watching her disappear.

Chasing her alone right now would be suicide. Between his injuries and unstable control of his powers, he'd be running to his death.

Next time, though... next time would be different

…

"Well..." Reinhard broke the heavy silence, clearing his throat. "That went pretty smoothly."

"No, it didn't," Artorius muttered, dragging a hand down his face in frustration.

"She escaped. That's the opposite of smooth."

He exhaled, the lingering tension souring what should have been a victory. "And it was my decision that let her go. I apologise for that, Reinhard."

The red-haired knight shook his head without hesitation. "You did the right thing. I would've made the same choice."

"That doesn't change the fact that we let an infamous killer slip away," Artorius said, clicking his tongue.

"Artorius, it's not your fault!" Emilia's voice cracked through the air.

He turned, raising a brow at her.

"It's mine!" she insisted. "If only I hadn't lost my insignia, none of this—"

"Are you the one who let her walk away?" he asked, cutting her off calmly.

"No, but it was because of my—!"

"It was your property, Lady Emilia," Artorius said flatly. "What happens to it isn't my call. But if it matters to you, then protecting it becomes my duty."

"You don't know that!"

"But I believe it," he answered without missing a beat.

Before Emilia could sputter a reply, Reinhard stepped between them, smiling softly.

"Rather than fighting over who's to blame," he said, voice steady and warm, "maybe we should be thankful no one died. The Bowel Hunter rarely leaves a scene without a corpse. But this time... everyone is still breathing."

His words cut through the tension. Slowly, the strain in Emilia's face eased. She lowered her hands and nodded.

"...I guess you're right," Emilia said quietly.

Artorius just grunted again "Hn."

Only then did they notice the small, awkward figure edging toward the ruins.

"You are…" Emilia started, blinking in surprise.

The thief, Felt, flinched under the sudden attention.

"H-Hi?" she said, giving a stiff little wave.

The glare Emilia sent her undoubtedly told the blond thief that she had made a very poor choice of words.

"You stole my insignia."

"I-I was hired! T-That crazy lady hired me to steal your insignia! But she attacked us! I'm a victim too!"

"But unlike others you are a victim of your own mistakes" butted in Artorius with a dry voice.

"You're working in the slum, you should know there is always a risk when dealing with the people around here."

The thief squirmed under the man's stern gaze, not knowing how to respond to that line.

"Artorius, I think that was too harsh," said Emilia, seeing Felt showing genuine regret. "I mean, sure, she stole my insignia, but I think she regrets it."

"Of course she does! She almost got killed! I would smack her on the head if she didn't feel any regret." He deadpanned, clenching his fists.

He shook his head and sighed, "Well, I guess I can understand her situation. She doesn't live in a good environment and doesn't have many options. But what I was trying to say is, do not try to make excuses, girl. When you are at fault, don't just regret it and learn from it. Understood?"

His words were still quite harsh but everyone could hear his voice softening, going from a chiding to a lecture.

"Yes." Felt bowed her head in acceptance. "I'm sorry I stole your insignia, Big Sis."

In response, Emilia smiled gently, "As long as you learn your lesson, then it's fine."

Felt only looked down and refused to meet the silver-haired girl's eyes. Then her head snapped up as something crossed her mind.

"Wait! Old man Rom!" 

"He's fine." Artorius was the one who answered, stepping aside to show the unconscious old man. "Lady Emilia has healed his injury."

"Uh-huh," nodded Emilia in a kind and reassuring manner. "I healed his injury, however, he still needs to rest for a few days." 

The wound was not fatal, thankfully, it only caused him to bleed a lot. The Bowel Hunter loved to see her prey die slowly and agonisingly, she may have habitually avoided killing him in an instant.

Felt could feel her eyes sting as tears welled up. She knelt by the giant's unconscious form, her small hands grasping one of his rough, calloused ones. His usual warmth was gone his skin felt cold, clammy and the blood pooling beneath him seemed to create a small pond.

He was bleeding out. He was dying.

She remembered the horrible sound he made earlier, gurgling on his own blood, gasping for breath. The memory sent terror stabbing through her chest. She knew Rom was old — anyone could see that. He never denied it either. But he was strong. Beneath the wrinkles and gruff words, there was a fire in him that refused to die out.

Seeing him like this, crumpled and broken... it shook her to her core.

"Old man Rom..." she choked out, her voice trembling as tears slid freely down her cheeks. Her fingers clutched his massive hand tightly, the tears born of a mix of fear, sorrow, and desperate hope.

From a few steps away, Reinhard, Emilia, and Artorius watched the scene in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

For Reinhard and Emilia, the sight was heartwarming — and quietly painful.

Especially for Emilia.

She had no clear memories of her own parents. When Puck unfroze her, she woke up with only fragments of herself left — her name, and little else. It was a lonely thing, not knowing who you were. But she had found Puck. And even if he wasn't her real father, even if he wasn't blood, he was family.

Watching Felt cry over Rom, seeing the love between them — human and giant, unrelated by blood, it touched something deep inside her.

It was proof. Family wasn't bound by blood or race. It was built by something stronger.

By love.

Meanwhile, Artorius didn't know how to react to what was happening in front of him. To him, they were fictional characters he had read and watched, but now… he wasn't so sure.

It made the man realise that he was now part of this World. This fictional place… And it brought a pang to his heart as he knew it would be a very long time before he could ever find of way back home. Re: Zero was not an anime showing joy and happiness.

No… It was about…

Tragedy. 

He turned away from the scene and stared at the stars that slowly were becoming visible, the sun starting to set down and the moon replacing its place in the sky.

"Artorius?" 

The blond-haired man turned, hearing a familiar gentle voice calling him. 

"Yes? Lady Emilia?" he asked. 

"You're injured." Emilia pointed to his bloody side. "Let me heal you."

"You tried that already, it didn't work now, did it?"

"Then let me try again." He crossed his arms, closed his eyes and sat down. Emilia, as he had judged, was the stubborn type. It was better to go with their whims than argue for another hour or so.

…

"If you have any questions, ask away." He said, looking at Reinhard.

"Was it obvious?" He said in mock embarrassment.

"Obvious? You were looking at Excalibur like a kid in a toy store with his rich uncle. So ask away, I will answer."

"That sword in your hand…" Reinhard's eyes immediately went to the invisible Excalibur. He knew it was a sword the moment he laid his eyes upon it, despite its Invisible Air covering it. "I must say, I've never seen a sword of that kind, and it makes me very curious as to where you acquired it."

Since Reinhard came from a line of master swordsmen, this clearly meant something. Just by being close to it, the red haired man could tell that the sword was legendary like the one on his own waist. Moreover its power right now was suppressed.

"You can say it is… a gift," answered Artorous as he glanced at his invisible sword. He wasn't lying, it was a gifted to King Arthur by the Lady of the Lake after Caliburn was destroyed.

But now that the fighting was over, he dismissed it.

"...!? What did you just do?" Reinhard's sharp voice cut through the air, his sky-blue eyes widening in alarm. The Saint of the Sword could perceive things that normal people couldn't, catching even the faint glimmer of an invisible weapon. But now… Now he saw nothing.

"I just hid it," Artorius replied calmly. "A simple trick. Very handy, if I might say so," he added quickly, noticing Emilia's curious stare. No way was he about to explain his trump card. Not now.

"Anyway," he said, brushing the thought aside, "what are you going to do with Felt and the old man?"

At the mention of her name, Felt stiffened, caught under Reinhard's piercing gaze.

Sensing Artorius didn't want to elaborate on his simple trick, Reinhard smoothly continued the conversation. "It's hard to grasp everything that's happened," he admitted. "But given my occupation, I shouldn't overlook what they were doing. However..."

He paused, giving a wry shrug. "Today happens to be my day off, so…"

"Hahaha, you really are a terrible knight," Emilia said with a laugh, easing the tension.

Felt sagged with relief.

"You hear that? Be more careful next time, little girl," Artorius said, ruffling her hair.

"Stop treating me like a kid!" Felt protested, squirming under his hand. "You don't look much older than me!"

"Let's just say I'm much older," Artorius replied with a teasing grin, finally letting her go.

Felt shot him a glare before huffing and turning toward Emilia. "Uh… I want to return this," she said, holding out the royal insignia.

Only then did everyone realise no one had bothered to pick it up from the ground until now.

"This is yours… Sorry for stealing it," she mumbled.

"As I said, it's okay. I forgive you," Emilia replied with a gentle smile, taking the badge back. "But if possible, I'd like it if you stopped stealing altogether."

"That's something I can't do," Felt said flatly. "I'm only giving this back because I owe you all my life. I don't think what I do is wrong. I've got no plans to stop."

"Then you'll probably meet someone like the Bowel Hunter again," Artorius pointed out dryly, making Felt grimace.

"Look, I won't lecture you about your life, but at least be smarter about it. Do some research before picking your targets. If someone's paying a lot to steal something, odds are it's shady," he advised.

"Uhh, yeah, I guess you're right," Felt muttered, scratching the back of her head awkwardly. "You're weirdly good at this, Big Bro. Were you a thief too?"

"I'm good at it because I have this special gift called common sense, you dunderhead," Artorius said, flicking her forehead and making her yelp. "You need to learn more about the world if you want to survive. Also, I was a farmboy."

Before anyone could reply, Reinhard suddenly stepped forward and grabbed Felt's wrist — the insignia in her hand was glowing faintly red.

"Felt, was it? What's your surname? Your age?" Reinhard asked, his voice sharp.

"Huh!? I dunno! I'm fifteen, but I don't know my birthday! Hey! Let go!" Felt struggled against his grip.

"Sorry, but you'll need to come with me," Reinhard said urgently before turning to Emilia and Artorius. "I'll have knights escort you back to the Mathers territory. Thank you for your help."

"Um… what's happening?" Emilia asked, worried.

"It's nothing for you to worry about, Lady Emilia," Reinhard said respectfully. "But I do need to confirm something. It's not about the insignia."

"And the old man?" Artorius asked.

"We'll take him to the nearest post. Once he wakes, I'll explain. We'll also launch a search for the Bowel Hunter and lockdown the area for a full investigation."

As Felt continued to struggle, Reinhard simply placed a palm before her, putting her to sleep. "Rest assured, I'll ensure no harm comes to her."

With a final polite bow, he left, Felt and Rom both carried effortlessly over his shoulders like sacks of potatoes.

"... Hah," Artorius exhaled heavily, muscles giving out as he collapsed onto the ground.

"Artorius! Are you alright!?" Emilia cried, kneeling beside him.

"I'm fine," he muttered, waving her off. "Just… Can you get me some ice wrapped in a cloth?"

"Right!" she said quickly, running off toward the loothouse.

In no time, she returned with a makeshift ice pack, ice cubes wrapped inside a clean cloth.

Artorius pressed it gratefully against his forehead, letting the chill seep into his aching body.

"Ha~"

Relief washed over him. His breathing steadied, his thoughts slowed, and slowly, consciousness slipped away into darkness.

***

**

*

(A/N: I am sorry if this and the last two chapters felt rushed and too fast paced. This might be the most boring part of writing this fic, so I skipped as much as possible. I will take my time with the coming arcs and integrate many of the ideas I have for this fic, a special one at that, so stick around for that.)