Era of Heroic Spirits: I Was Exposed by Alaya

-[Foolish child, without Nameless sneaking you extra meals, you'd still be eating Gawain's mashed potatoes every day!]

-[Nameless: Obviously! You're my damn daughter! If I don't care about you troublemaker, who will?]

-[But Mordred just wants to steal Nameless from Father! You rebellious brat, haha!]

-[Mordred: Choose! Me or Father?]

-[No wonder Merlin wanted to see this scene so badly—we've all become Merlin!]

...

"Poor little Mordred, so pitiful, hahaha!"

Roya had initially tried to hold back her laughter, wanting to feel a bit of sympathy.

But!

Watching the traitorous knight's cheeks rapidly flush crimson, her head slightly lowered, eyes shimmering with unshed tears—

And then thinking about the relationship between these two, compounded by all the accumulated misunderstandings—

It really made it impossible for her to keep from laughing.

"Roya, d-don't be so mean… Pfft—I can't hold it in either, hahaha!"

Illya had meant to stop her, but midway through speaking, she suddenly burst into laughter too.

The contagion had spread!

Two adorable little lolis were now rolling around on the sofa, laughing uncontrollably, their cuteness on full display.

Only after laughing until their stomachs hurt did Roya finally manage to rein in her giggles and continue watching.

On the screen—

Nameless had been struck by two Noble Phantasms, his body already reduced to a tattered doll.

Countless gruesome wounds covered him—enough that even the greatest healer alive wouldn't be able to save him.

It was tragic!

So tragic that no one present could believe he would survive.

And then came the most heart-wrenching scene.

Nameless reached out and gently touched Mordred's cheek.

The usually proud, rebellious knight, who hated being treated like a child by anyone, obediently bent down and let him.

Then—

Nameless took her hand, then took King Arthur's, clasping the hands of parent and child together. His bloodstained face broke into a smile.

"The age of gods has ended. All of this… was the curse of the Vile King Vortigern. You two were never meant to walk this path of enmity."

His voice grew weaker with each word. "As kings… you should stay on your thrones. Leave everything else… to me."

"I wanted to protect you both properly… but it seems I can't…"

Cough—

Another mouthful of blood spilled from his lips, his face now as pale as snow.

"Stop talking! I won't let you die!"

King Arthur reached out, trying to stem his wounds, but it was futile.

Having first battled Morgan, then withstood the full force of two Noble Phantasms—even someone as strong as Nameless was now at death's door.

"No! I won't allow you to die!"

Mordred grew increasingly frantic.

For the first time, she had found someone she loved. For the first time, she had felt truly valued. Two joyous things, intertwined—they should have brought her even greater happiness.

She should have been granted a dreamlike, blissful future.

But—

Why?

Why did it have to end like this?

"Don't grieve… don't be sad. I'm just… returning to where I belong."

Nameless' voice grew fainter.

Now, the man who had once beheaded the Vile King Vortigern was frailer than an infant.

With the last of his strength, he bid them farewell—

"May the day come… when you reunite with those most precious to you…"

Thud—

His hand, which had been reaching for King Arthur's cheek, fell limply to the ground.

Nameless was dead.

-[So moving… so unbearably moving! It's so romantic I could cry!]

-[Sigh… Nameless really used his life to mediate. Both of them were his most important people—he had no choice but to sacrifice himself.]

-[Hehe, what I really want to know now is how King Arthur and Mordred will react after watching this!]

-[Ahhh, Nameless! You still haven't married me yet!]

-[Pfft—keep dreaming! That's my husband!]

...

In the living room—

Roya stared at the heartrending scene on the large LCD screen, only to burst into laughter again, clutching a panda plushie as she rolled around.

"Nameless, you really deserve an Oscar! Your acting is just too good, ahahaha!"

As she rolled around, her loose home clothes flipped up, revealing her soft, pale little belly.

However.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed he wasn't even looking her way.

Am I really that unattractive?

Roya couldn't help but ask aloud, "Souma, why aren't you laughing?"

"..."

Souma was silently weeping inside.

How the hell could he laugh at this?

King Arthur and Mordred had fought, and he'd given his life trying to stop them.

In his final moments, he'd urged them to reconcile.

A father's kindness, a child's filial piety, the nameless one's fall—listen, what a legendary tale it should have been.

But then!

That damned Alaya had to expose everything!

If only it had selectively shown the epic moments.

The audience would've been moved to tears, showering him with praise.

But now.

They all knew he hadn't actually died, and were just gleefully waiting.

Waiting for King Arthur and Mordred to track him down in real life.

Public humiliation!

His dark history exposed!

Damn you, Alaya!

He couldn't help but grab the little girl's golden twin tails, gritting his teeth as he said, "Roya, did you forget what I taught you growing up? Don't laugh at others!"

"Hey hey, my twin tails aren't your steering wheel, baka! Hentai! Murusai!"

Roya pouted, firing off a triple retort.

Beside them.

Illya watched their interaction with envy.

How nice, she wanted to join in too.

Though, something felt slightly off.

The more she looked at this domestic, good-natured man, the more he seemed to resemble that nameless heroic spirit.

Just as gentle, just as skilled in the kitchen, just as devoted to raising a daughter…

A strange expression crossed Illya's little face as she glanced at her golden-haired, twin-tailed friend, now scowling in annoyance.

A bold thought surfaced in her mind—

Eh? Could it be that little Roya also wants to go for Souma?

Illya's feelings grew increasingly complicated.

She sat obediently on the sofa, refocusing on the video.

On screen.

That hand fell limply.

Countless points of light emerged from his body as he began to fade away like a fleeting dream.

Mordred instantly burst into tears: "No! A future without you… isn't the future I want!"

"I won't let you die!"

A tremendous surge of energy erupted from Artoria.

She drew forth a Noble Phantasm of immeasurable power.

A golden metal scabbard, inlaid with striking blue enamel.

Covered in densely packed runes.

It was the scabbard of Excalibur, possessing absolute defense.

Its name—[Avalon!]

Yet.

Even as the scabbard merged into his body, it couldn't stop him from vanishing completely.

The nameless one was dead!

Gone beyond recovery.

That gentle soul had become nothing more than an untouchable memory.

At this moment, the King descended into boundless fury: "Mordred!!!"

"Ar—thur, this is all your fault!"

Mordred's eyes burned red as she glared back.

The battle reignited.

In the end.

The rebellious knight was pierced by a spear, removing her helmet for the first time to face the King directly.

Reaching out weakly, she smiled bitterly: "Father… you never acknowledged me in the end…"

"I never denied you…"

Artoria, equally drenched in blood, closed her eyes as she surveyed the corpse-laden hill of swords.

Clip-clop, clip-clop—

Then, the rapid galloping of hooves approached from the distance.

A knight who had always been loyal to her finally broke through the hasty obstacles and arrived before her, kneeling in tears at her feet.

King Arthur handed the holy sword to him: "Bedivere, cross that bloodstained hill, find a deep lake, and cast this sword into it..."

***

Hey readers!

Want to read ahead? 📖 Join my Patreon for early access to 30+ advance chapters! Your support helps me write more and bring the story to you faster.

🔹patreon.com/aarvan🔹