Chapter 66: Saber Wants to See Her Own Grave
Noticing the increasingly strange looks from Shirou and the waitress, Saber suddenly realized something, and her hand holding the menu trembled slightly.
"Cough. That should be enough."
Saber returned the menu to the waitress with forced composure.
"Very well, please wait a moment."
Though she felt a bit bewildered, the waitress maintained her professionalism, accepting the menu with a smile and heading quickly to the kitchen.
Shirou suddenly asked out of curiosity: "Saber, even though you have a physical body, with a mana supply, you shouldn't feel hungry so easily, right?"
"Mmm... that is true. However, it seems last night's battle consumed quite a bit. While your magical energy is certainly enough for replenishment, food can serve as a source of vitality. If I eat my fill, even my luck becomes EX!" Saber spoke with a dead-serious expression.
"Is that so...?"
Shirou stared suspiciously at the girl's face, but she showed no openings, wearing an expectant smile as she waited for the food. The ahoge on her head swayed slightly, as if validating her joyful mood. Shirou didn't remember such a setting existing, but he didn't care. With such a powerful girl as his assistant, what more could he ask for?
However, once the dishes were served, the speed at which Saber ate still left Shirou startled. Her eating manner was perfectly elegant, yet because her hands moved so fast and there was almost no visible chewing, the food simply vanished. It was hard not to wonder if there was a pocket dimension inside the girl's stomach.
'He was reminded of Kirby for some reason...'
At this point, Shirou couldn't help but feel lucky that Irisviel had insisted on giving him the twenty million. Otherwise, he really wouldn't have had enough funds. As a Master, it would be too embarrassing if he couldn't even keep his Servant fed. Though Shirou could cook himself, ingredients cost money too.
After a feast in the commercial street next to the airport, a well-fed Shirou and Saber hailed a taxi to head toward the "Clock Tower."
After a period of driving, they reached a street called Slur. Perhaps due to the inconsistent waves of modernization, old and new buildings were awkwardly interspersed, giving the impression of a "patched together" congested district. The houses here had stood for countless years; the layers of ivy and overgrown weeds could be laughed off, but the reddish-brown brick walls and chimneys were covered in cracks. Whenever the wind blew, debris would patter down.
This area, usually ignored by the public, was actually the district of magi. Passing through this neighborhood brought them closer to the place countless young magi yearned for—the "Clock Tower."
The Mage's Association originated around the 2nd century, but this street was built around the 12th. The land and funds for these alleys, as well as the current operating costs, were provided by twelve noble magus families known as "Lords." They are the managers and hiders of modern mystery, as well as the rulers of the declining magical world. Above them is the Director, the founder of the Association, but he has been in seclusion within the Clock Tower for many years and rarely appears.
Perceptions of the Association varied. To a freelance magus, it was an authoritative group dedicated to internal strife. To a researcher, it was an ideal academic city for achievement and fame. Thus, even if the Clock Tower wasn't pure and contained much darkness, many older magi focused on research still used it as a shared facility.
There are twelve faculties in the Clock Tower—twelve abysses managed by the twelve Lords. It begins with "General Fundamentals," which almost all magi study first, covering common sense, leylines, and mana. Then come Individual Fundamentals, Evocation, Mineralogy, Zoology, Lore, Botany, Celestial Body, Creation, Curse, Archaeology, and Modern Magecraft Theory. While they differ in form and direction, they all seek the research of Mystery.
The taxi slowed down as Shirou's thoughts drifted. He paid the fare and got out with Saber.
"Phew... we're finally here."
Looking at the Clock Tower standing before them, Shirou stretched his arms.
"Is this the 'Clock Tower'...? Such a bright place seems a bit different from how you described it, Shirou." Saber scrutinized the buildings with curiosity.
"Ha, bad people don't write 'I am bad' on their faces. Even in a place that looks glamorous on the surface, there are always corners where the sun doesn't shine." Shirou spoke as he stepped inside, Saber following closely behind.
Shirou had originally expected this visit to be troublesome. Though his strength combined with Saber's meant he didn't fear the Clock Tower, it wouldn't be easy to make them hand over what he wanted. Regardless, now that they were here, there was no hesitation.
Crossing the massive plaza, Shirou led Saber into the tower. Since they were dressed formally and appeared composed, no one suspected anything was wrong. Before Shirou even reached the stairs to the upper levels, a tall woman approached him.
Dressed in white aristocratic attire with long brown hair tied in a ponytail, the beautiful and poised woman stopped in front of Shirou. Her gaze was cold, appraising him like an emotionally detached queen.
"Are you Orihara Shirou?"
"That's me. Is something the matter?" Shirou nodded in confirmation.
Seeing her serious expression, Shirou thought she might suddenly attack, but things didn't go that way. The woman, who exuded an aristocratic aura from every angle, simply handed a sealed file folder to him.
"This is for you."
Confused, Shirou reached out to take it. He opened the folder and checked; the "objective" of his trip was resting quietly inside this inconspicuous envelope.
"You're just giving it to me like this?"
When Shirou looked up, the woman had already turned to leave, her slender back the only thing visible. Things had gone far smoother than expected. It wasn't until they left the Clock Tower that Shirou realized the likely reason.
"Zelretch...?"
The man had helped him twice now. Once during the fight with Gilgamesh, and now. The Lords of the Clock Tower weren't the type to obediently hand over sealed magecraft to a nobody.
"This is going to be a hard favor to return." Shirou murmured helplessly in the returning taxi.
With the main task finished by 3:00 PM, Shirou and Saber headed toward the airport. However, on the way, Saber suddenly asked if they could stop by to see her own grave. Shirou also had places he wanted to see—like the Louvre—but considering the distance, he decided against it. Besides, there was no need; he had already met his own Mona Lisa.
Shirou granted Saber's wish, and the two traveled to Glastonbury. Glastonbury is closely tied to many myths; it was once described as the same place as the Isle of Avalon, the final resting place of King Arthur. The "King Arthur's Tomb" is located at Glastonbury Abbey. The town is remote and rainier than London. The Abbey interior is small and can be toured in an hour.
There is no actual evidence that this is King Arthur's grave.
A breeze brushed over the greenery. The sky was a washed, crystalline blue, and white clouds drifted slowly in various shapes. From the high ground, one could see a wheat field in a distant village; under the sunlight, the ears of grain emitted a golden luster. Waves of wind swept up fragments of light, weaving through the countryside.
"You've been to Avalon, haven't you? How is it? Does this place look familiar?" Shirou asked Saber as he looked at the ruins.
"..." Saber shook her head, looking a bit lost.
Even Saber herself didn't know if this was the place, for the scenery of the past and present had changed beyond recognition. She had thought about where she would go if the day ever
came for her to depart—it would undoubtedly be Avalon. Returning the sword to the Lady of the Lake and sleeping there forever seemed like a fine idea.
"I see..." Shirou looked up and closed his eyes, feeling the tranquility of the plains as the whistling wind echoed in his ears.
There was no need to know if this was truly the place. Perhaps for Saber, coming here was just a momentary impulse of the heart, seeking a point of connection. The meaning of being here was far greater than the authenticity of the site.
The tourists passing by likely never imagined that the girl brushing past them was the legendary King Arthur who ruled Britain. In fact, even if Saber actively admitted her identity, people would only laugh and retort: "King Arthur couldn't possibly be a woman!"
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