D' Ultimate Lich King

"Master, try this; it's not very good."

Completely ignoring the argument between Rider and Saber, Flandre offered Arthas her wine.

Archer looked displeased but remained silent.

Arthas took the goblet, clinking it against Flandre's in a silent toast; she proudly turned away.

Finding Archer's reaction both amusing and frustrating, Arthas said nothing, simply lowering his head to taste the wine Rider had praised so highly.

The rich, mellow wine was exquisite; Arthas's eyes widened in appreciation. It was exactly as Rider had described; a drink fit for the gods.

Meanwhile, Flandre stared at Arthas's neck with longing; blood was far more appealing to her than wine.

"Um… there are a lot of people here."

Noticing her longing, Arthas said awkwardly; she nodded in disappointment.

"Then, after they're gone, Master must give it to me."

"I know, I will."

Arthas made the promise, feeling awkward; the conflict between the two Kings intensified.

"In your eyes, such Kings are tyrants? But a King without desires is no better than a vase."

Rider's furious rebuttal, amplified by his imposing size, made him seem even more terrifying.

"Saber, you said 'dedication to ideals.' Yes, you were a virtuous saint, impossibly pure. But who desires martyrdom for ideals? Who longs for a saint who can only comfort, not lead? Only by displaying desire, by celebrating ultimate glory, can a nation and its people be guided."

Finishing his wine, the King of Conquerors continued.

"A King must possess stronger desires, be more unrestrained, more easily angered than anyone. They must be a more real human, encompassing both purity and impurity. Only then will subjects be captivated, and the people yearn, 'If only I were King!'"

"Such rule… where is justice?"

"There isn't. Kingship has no justice, therefore no regrets."

"…."

Saber was furious at his blunt assertion.

Both aimed for the people's happiness, but their ideals differed greatly.

One prayed for peace.

The other desired prosperity.

A King who suppressed chaos and a King who ignited it—their ideals were irreconcilable.

Rider smiled, saying cheerfully.

"King of Knights, your justice and ideals may have saved your nation and people, hence your enduring legend. But you know what became of those you saved."

"What… do you mean?"

The image of the blood-soaked sunset on the hill resurfaced in Saber's mind.

"You 'saved' your subjects, but never 'guided' them. They didn't understand a King's desires. You abandoned your lost subjects, reveling in your own petty ideals. You weren't a true King. You just wanted to be a 'King' for the people, a self-made idol."

"I…"

She had many rebuttals, but the image of Camlann resurfaced.

Corpses littered the battlefield, blood flowing like rivers. Her subjects, friends, and family lay there.

She knew the prophecy from the moment she drew the sword. She knew it meant destruction; she'd accepted it.

But why…

Seeing that scene, she felt helpless, capable only of prayer.

Mages had predicted that changing the past was nearly impossible. But she still hoped…

A dangerous thought entered Saber's mind.

What if, instead of saving Britain, she'd ruled it as a tyrant?

Chaos would only worsen. First, this wasn't her path. Arturia would never choose this.

But if she had, which outcome would be more tragic than Camlann…

Confusion, deep confusion, was etched on her face; the complete rejection of her ideals left Saber speechless.

"What… do you think! Of my kingship!"

Confused, she turned to Arthas, almost pleading.

Arthas was surprised by Saber's question; he paused mid-toast, then slowly lowered his goblet.

"You're seeking my opinion, Saber?"

Saber nodded weakly; she felt a strange connection with this man; she couldn't explain it, but his actions and words that night had deeply affected her.

Such a man… the perfect Master? What would he think of me?

"From what I know of history, I can only say you were a tragic King; you lived for your people, but…"

Shaking his head, sighing, Arthas recalled everything he knew about her, about King Arthur.

"…you were ultimately cast into the abyss by those you trusted."

This final, cruel statement struck Saber; she stumbled, nearly falling.

No one helped her, no one comforted her.

Rider and Archer silently drank; seeing a King seek the opinion of an outsider at a King's feast, they no longer considered Saber an equal.

Archer, in fact, considered the King, Saber, inferior to the ordinary human, Arthas.

After all, Archer had acknowledged Arthas, allowing him to taste his wine—a great honor for Archer.

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