Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King's Personal Knight

"Sir Alaric?"

Mash, who was dissipating into specks of starlight, instinctively murmured, her gaze filled with shock and confusion as she looked at the approaching figure.

The one shouting was none other than Alaric, who had been struck down by the Lion King earlier and seemingly lost his life. No one had expected him to stand up again at this moment.

But Mash couldn't understand why Alaric would say such words now.

Hadn't it all—already ended?

Unlike Mash, who understood nothing, Da Vinci and Fujimaru Ritsuka both wore grave expressions. They were acutely aware of the peril Alaric now faced.

"Indeed—"

Da Vinci, sharper than the others, quickly grasped the critical detail. Unlike them, Alaric's body showed no glowing particles, meaning he wouldn't be returned to where he came from.

Da Vinci soon understood why Alaric wasn't forcibly sent back. Fujimaru Ritsuka, Mash, and Da Vinci herself hailed from Chaldea—a place outside time. But the rest of the world had been destroyed.

Solomon's incineration of human history had obliterated all of humanity's timeline. If Alaric came from between 2017 and 2016, then his origin too had been burned away.

There was no doubt—Alaric had already lost his place of origin. He was like a foreign object stuck in the 13th-century Middle East. And with the Lion King having laid down the Holy Lance, the singularity was vanishing. Alaric's final refuge was also about to disappear.

As the restoration progressed, no one could predict Alaric's ultimate fate.

Alaric, his expression filled with anguish, strode past Mash and Fujimaru Ritsuka without a word. At this moment, he no longer paid them any attention. His body and consciousness screamed and wailed in agony.

An indescribable sense of fragmentation overwhelmed him with boundless pain and sorrow. With the Lion King laying down the Holy Lance, an unknowable force began to invade Alaric.

The feeling in his body was fading, and his consciousness teetered on the edge of chaos. Memories from the past decade flashed through his mind like a fleeting dream.

Rejection. Revulsion. Loathing. Die, die, die, die, die!!

It was as if the entire world was rejecting him. Alaric could feel the emotions rushing at him from all directions.

And they came from within himself.

If the progress of the world preserved anything, it would be the accumulation of time—the manifestation of history.

The countless millennia that had accumulated had crystallized into what was known as the Human Order—the path the world was meant to follow.

But on that path, there was no place for Alaric.

From the moment the singularity began to repair itself, even Alaric's existence rejected itself.

"I won't accept this—"

Clenching his teeth, Alaric took one step after another toward the Lion King—a figure who, by now, even Alaric found unfamiliar.

At that moment.

["Huh? Is Sir Alaric still in front of you? Why can't I see anything from my side?"]

Romani's puzzled voice shattered the fragile silence.

Hearing this, Mash's expression shifted to one of panic. She quickly asked, "Doctor, are you mistaken? Sir Alaric—Sir Alaric is right in front of us!"

To Mash, that silhouette was unmistakably Alaric. But why did the power surrounding him feel so familiar?

Fujimaru Ritsuka and Da Vinci fell silent at Romani's unwitting remark.

"Mash, Sir Alaric is fine."

Seeing Mash growing agitated, Fujimaru Ritsuka tried to offer comfort. But Mash instinctively shot back, "How could he be fine, Senpai!?

Sir… Sir Alaric is disappearing! He's being rejected by Human Order!"

At this moment, Mash finally recognized the familiar power surrounding Alaric. It was none other than the same power as Galahad's Noble Phantasm, 'The Ever-distant Ideal City, Lord Camelot.'

Mash couldn't understand why Alaric was enveloped by this power, but her heart whispered the answer—

"Rejection of the foreign."

Alaric was not something that should exist within the Human Order. In his current state, he had yet to comprehend his purpose or find a way to coexist with Human Order.

He was something discarded, cut away—unable to turn back.

Even though she had reached an answer, Mash still couldn't fully understand. She couldn't comprehend it at all!

"What—"

Mash's words caused Fujimaru Ritsuka and Da Vinci's expressions to shift, while far away in Chaldea, Romani's face also turned pale. They had thought everything was over, only to realize there was still a greater challenge ahead.

While Fujimaru Ritsuka struggled to grasp what Mash had noticed about Alaric's impending doom, Da Vinci understood perfectly.

But if that were the case—

Da Vinci immediately turned her gaze to the figure standing before the Lion King. She opened her mouth to speak.

King Arthur, Artoria Pendragon—who still called herself the Lion King—quietly watched as her sole knight approached her once more.

"It is not over. It will never be over, my king—"

Standing within arm's reach, the anguish on Alaric's face suddenly disappeared.

As if in a final burst of life, he suppressed all the pain and discomfort, standing tall to speak with his king one last time.

"Sir Alaric—"

At this moment, Artoria did not know what to say. Only she understood what had happened to Alaric—be it the transformation induced by dragon blood or the erosion caused by soul transformation.

The pure white soul that had been reborn through death had, over the past six months, gradually revealed its true form.

Because of this, Artoria seemed to glimpse what kind of future awaited Alaric after today.

Unlike Bedivere, whose sin was confined to a single moment, Alaric's would span an endless journey of 1,500 years.

It was a curse that Artoria herself had placed upon him.

A curse—and a blessing.

Unaware of Artoria's thoughts, Alaric took a deep breath and smiled from the bottom of his heart. "Please allow me to thank you—"

There was no time left for Alaric to share his thoughts with Artoria. Every word he spoke intensified the pain and rejection far beyond anything he had ever endured, even death.

It was the denial and rejection of his very existence, clashing against his fierce desire to survive. The contradiction between the two forces tore at his soul, threatening to rend it apart.

But Alaric still chose to speak with the Lion King. In this final moment, he had to make everything clear.

They would not meet again. He couldn't afford to leave any regrets—

"You gave me a place to belong. You saved my life. You pointed me toward a future…

I am truly grateful to you, my king, the Lion King Artoria."

Alaric's face was pale, drenched in cold sweat, and his trembling body was barely holding together. Yet he refused to collapse or disappear.

"It is I who wronged you, Sir Alaric—"

Artoria slowly stepped forward, closing the final gap between them.

She raised her hand to wipe the sweat from Alaric's face. Her expression softened, and a faint smile appeared on her lips.

"Everything you have done, I have seen with my own eyes. Be proud, Sir Alaric.

You are the Lion King's only knight, and you may hold your head high as a Knight of the Round Table, moving forward toward the future."

Unlike Gawain and the other fallen Knights of the Round Table, Artoria believed that Alaric, like Fujimaru Ritsuka and the others, should move toward the future.

But that future—

Clack.

A charred hand caught the Lion King's jade-like hand, the one that had been wiping Alaric's cheek. It was Alaric who had raised his hand to grasp hers.

Alaric's smile remained, even growing brighter.

"The time has come to say a true farewell, my king.

I ask of you—please entrust the Holy Lance to me."