Chapter 243 - 243: Hell Lies Ahead

Sure enough, no matter the time or place, Merlin's personality was just as obnoxious as ever. But in a way, this was also a relief. Saber, whose heart had been filled with worry upon seeing this unfamiliar scenery, felt her tension ease. After all, the only person capable of uttering such frivolous remarks at a moment like this was the real Merlin.

"Alright, Merlin, enough with the nonsense. Just tell me what place this is," Saber said. "I recall participating in the Holy Grail War with Sir Mordred just a moment ago."

Having said this, Saber could not help but feel a surge of anxiety. She had not yet obtained the Greater Grail. She had not yet successfully made her wish to return to the past and save Britain. How could she afford to waste time here? That was why, upon realizing Merlin's presence, she had called him out directly, intending to force him to tell her how to leave.

"What place is this, you ask? ...Although I would have loved to watch Artoria look flustered for a while longer, since you've asked so nicely, I suppose I shall begrudgingly explain it to you."

"However..." Merlin paused deliberately. He turned his gaze toward Mordred, who had stood frozen in place ever since arriving, not only failing to attack Saber but even ignoring the Sword of Selection that stood right before her, looking as though she didn't want to see any of it.

Merlin fixed his gaze on her, a mischievous, malicious smile spreading across his face. "...I think Mordred is far more qualified to answer that question."

"After all, in a certain sense, this is a world created by Mordred herself."

"AAAAAAH!! Merlin, I'm going to kill you!!!" Mordred, who had been pretending she didn't exist, suddenly went berserk upon hearing Merlin's words. Her face flushed red as she rushed toward Merlin, shouting, "Die, Merlin!!!"

"Ahahahaha, really now, Mordred, you haven't grown at all. You know full well that such attacks have no effect on me." Saying this, Merlin offered no resistance as Mordred punched straight through his body.

Yet, just as he had predicted, the Merlin who was punched through by Mordred simply dissolved into a flurry of petals, drifting away in the wake of her fist's wind. In another corner of this space, Merlin's detestable form coalesced once more, and he spoke in an equally detestable voice: "You see, it's just like this. Although I'm not particularly skilled at combat, I am, at the very least, the Mage of Flowers."

"Using this kind of magecraft is no problem at all. Besides, there's no point in trying to beat me up here, Mordred—you of all people should know that best. After all, this is the world of your dreams."

Yes, this was the world of her dreams. It was the world Mordred had visited countless times since she was summoned; a realm of consciousness that only Mordred and Saber could perceive. Thanks to the massive influx of magical energy, Saber—who could be considered

one and the same with Mordred in the magical sense, being the very source of her bloodline—had been pulled into this dreamscape of the "Day of Election" alongside her, both sharing the desire to return to that day.

That was why Mordred had frozen the instant she realized where she was. She saw that Saber had come here with her, and that the mage's voice she once thought was merely a narrator was truly Merlin himself—and that this fellow Merlin had been "peeping" at her ever since she started dreaming of this world. Mordred, who usually had nothing but trash-talk for Saber, had been rendered speechless.

To Mordred, this world was like a secret, private video that one absolutely couldn't let their parents see. Who could stand tall and speak confidently to their parents after being caught watching such a thing?

Merlin's presence made it even worse. If her parent (Saber) had discovered her dark history, she would feel shame, but because it was her parent, she figured Saber wouldn't go around spreading it. But if it were Merlin who discovered her dark secret...

Without a doubt, Mordred proved her distrust of Merlin through her actions. In the end, watching the cockroach-like tenacity of the man, and realizing that no matter how she attacked, she could never defeat an incubus in his own domain, Mordred gave up and began scratching her hair frantically. "Gwaaaah! Fine, fine, I get it!"

"This is my dream! It's the wish I've always wanted to realize! Before the King of Knights came here, I kept trying to pull that sword, but I couldn't even grasp it... Are you satisfied now!?"

Of course, as she said this, Mordred's gaze remained fixed on Merlin with pure malice. She swore that if she had known a dream-incubus like Merlin could follow her into her own dreamscape, she would never have just stood there giggling and trying to pull the sword after seeing it. She would have beaten Merlin—who appeared every time she entered this dream to spout his narration—until he never dared to show his face here again!

"So, it really is a dream."

Saber didn't notice Mordred's shame. Or rather, having found the dreamscape-like world strangely familiar upon arrival, Saber was currently focused only on one thing. In this dream, as time passed and everyone who had tried to pull the sword failed and walked away, a young girl with golden hair still stood before the blade.

There was no doubt about it. One look at the girl's appearance was enough to know: it was Saber. It was herself before she had pulled the Sword of Selection. Watching her younger self, knowing full well it was a dream, and with the most urgent task being to interrogate Merlin on how to leave, Saber still could not help but perform the redundant act of speaking to her younger self:

"Hey, hell lies ahead."

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