IBHJ 1115

The thief looked like an empire citizen though, and since he was wearing the crown and being hunted, common sense said he should swallow his anger and quietly slip away. But there was one big problem - his clothes were still next to the campfire!

What was he supposed to do, run away naked? Sure, great heroes shouldn't worry about small details, but this wasn't his Servant body - this was his actual flesh and blood!

He was already getting sick, and if he went running around without clothes, he'd probably end up reporting to the Throne of Heroes by nightfall.

This was not going to work!

He carefully set down his fresh fish and grabbed a thick wooden club from nearby. Slowly, he emerged from behind the tree, creeping up on the thief.

"Nom nom... delicious!"

The thief stayed squatting by the fire, licking her greasy fingers after finishing the fish.

Delicious, huh?

His eyes hardened, and he swung the club down at the thief's head.

"WHACK—"

"Ouch! That hurts, who—?"

Shirou didn't give her time to finish. He'd spotted a wooden staff by the campfire - this person was clearly a magus, one of the empire's immortals. He couldn't let them react!

He struck again and again until the thief slumped unconscious to the ground.

He rushed to the campfire and grabbed his clothes, pulling them on quickly. His body warmed up right away, though his underwear was still cold and wet.

Not exactly comfortable!

With an imperial citizen here, he knew he had to leave fast. But first, he wanted to see the face of this fish thief - he'd make them pay for this later!

When he lifted the thief up, he was surprised by how light she felt, reminding him of holding Artoria. The staff by the fire and her clothes made it clear this was a female magus.

"Her clothes and staff will make the perfect disguise," he reasoned, trying to justify what felt too much like stealing. "Consider it a little payback for my fish.”

He turned her over and pulled off her hat. A flow of golden hair caught the firelight like melted metal, and his eyes grew wide with shock.

"No... it can't be..."

That bright golden hair framing her face like a crown, that stubborn ahoge that never stayed flat no matter how many times she'd tried to smooth it down—Shirou's mouth twitched violently. "How is this possible, Artie?"

There was no mistake. The fish thief he'd just knocked unconscious, now lying in his arms, was Artoria Pendragon - the mother of his daughter!

He quickly pressed his fingers to her neck - there was still a pulse.

She was alive, just knocked out. The breath left his lungs in relief.

Of all people, the fish thief turned out to be his daughter's mother - what were the odds?

But something wasn't right...

He looked down at Artoria's unconscious form in his arms, her body limp and heavy against his chest. She wore a black short cloak that fluttered gently in the breeze, draped over a white dress that reached her knees. Her black stockings peeked out under her skirt, clinging to her slender legs, and her small leather boots were scuffed from travel.

No wonder he hadn't known it was her.

But still...

"This must be the Eternal Empire's version of Artoria," he realized.

The reason was clear - Morgan had become Apostle Pendragon, and his Artoria couldn't use magecraft, let alone qualify as a Caster.

If the Eternal Empire's Morgan was different from the one he knew, this Artoria probably wouldn't be normal either. So he started to set her down, ready to run. But seeing her unconscious like this made his heart twist with worry.

After a moment of hesitation, he wove nearby flowers into a wreath and placed it on his head to hide the crown. Then he took his caught fish and sat by the fire to cook it.

His stomach wasn't going to wait any longer.

As the fish cooked, he shifted uncomfortably in his wet pants. Finally, he pulled it off and set it by the fire to dry.

A lady sleeping nearby while he sat drying his pants... he really had no shame.

But did it really matter?

It's not like they were strangers - they'd even switched bodies and records during that incident. Thanks to their exchange at the South American connection point, he knew every detail of Artoria's body as well as his own.

Eventually, Artoria started stirring. Before her eyes opened, she curled up, holding her head. "Mmm... it hurts..."

"Are you awake, poor magus?"

"Who-?" Artoria sat up quickly. Through tired eyes, she saw a young man sitting cross-legged seriously by the fire.

The young man caught her attention - handsome, with a stern look and calm presence that she usually found appealing.

But something was off. She fought back a laugh. No matter how attractive he might be, anyone calmly drying their pants by a campfire had to be a weirdo.

Then the pain in her head sharpened her thoughts. Her blue eyes narrowed as she looked at him. "Were you the one who hit me?"

"Do I look like that kind of person?" He frowned unhappily. "Are your eyes blind? Can't you see the sincerity and goodwill in my eyes?"

Artoria: "..."

Noticing she hadn't spotted the crown yet, he grew bolder. "Think about it - if I had attacked you, would I be sitting here? And wouldn't I have tied you up first?"

His logic made sense. She stood up and brushed off her clothes before bowing slightly. "Sorry for jumping to conclusions."

"I save you from getting attacked, and this is the thanks I get?"

"You're right, I shouldn't have accused you." She met his eyes. "Thank you for helping me."

So she had misunderstood—he wasn't her attacker, but her rescuer!

"So how are you going to thank me?" he asked.

Artoria grabbed her staff from beside the fire. "I'm Artoria Pendragon, a witch in training from Avalon. I know quite a few spells and a bit of alchemy—I can make whatever you want."

"Pendragon? Are you related to Morgan Pendragon, the Apostle?"

"Morgan is my older sister." Artoria's eyes lit up with pride.

Just as he thought.

"The sister of the empire's guardian Apostle? In that case, don't worry about thanking me. It was my duty - my honor, really."

"No way! My master always says you don't have to return kindness, but you must always repay a wrong!"

Shirou: “…”

"You saved me, and I accused you wrongly. I can't just let that go." She tapped her chest. "Tell me what you want - I'll make it happen!"

Watching her confident expression, a smile spread across his face. He hadn't seen her like this in so long. This was the Artoria he missed.

"I can ask for anything?"

"Of course! Don't underestimate my abilities - I can create whatever you want."

He raised his hand and pointed at her. "Then I want you."

"What?" She froze, pointing at herself. "Me?"

"That's right." He nodded. "If anything's possible, you're all I want."

"No, wait - that's different!" She waved her hands frantically.

"But you said anything was possible." He tilted his head. "Is the great Apostle Morgan's sister going back on her word? Hard to believe someone related to such a respected Apostle would be so dishonest."

"No, that's not... I mean... I..." Artoria stumbled over her words, her eyes welling up. She hadn't expected him to corner her like this. After making such big promises, failing to deliver would tarnish her sister's reputation.

She couldn't let that happen.

She fidgeted, her mind racing for a way out. Words had never been her strong point.

Watching her panic, he broke into laughter. "Okay, I'll stop messing with you. Just help me dry my pants - that's all I want."

"Really?" Her face lit up with relief.

He nodded.

"I can do that!"

Artoria picked up her staff, but as she looked at his pants, something clicked. Her eyes went wide. "Wait - those pants! They belong to the person who attacked me!" Her eyes flashed with anger. "It was you all along!"