IBHJ 1008

She laughed, "Merlin told me that to deal with disgusting people, you need to use disgusting methods."

"To come up with such a terrible idea, he's truly a despicable person!" He shouted.

Mordred chased the young man, who ran for his life. Gilgamesh and Misaya watched, speechless.

Misaya sighed. "Are they actually grown adults?"

"Could've fooled me," Gilgamesh smirked.

Despite regaining some of her intellect, Mordred was still essentially her three-year-old self. Her heart wasn't as hardened as her older version, so the young man's kindness was having some effect. At the very least, she wasn't as aloof as before.

Later, as the evening grew colder and a breeze picked up, Mordred's golden hair caught the wind. Her voice was soft as she finally said, "When you hear my story, you'll end up just like your future self. You'll only feel anger and hate towards me."

Fujimaru's brow furrowed. "What makes you say that?"

Mordred stayed quiet for a long while. A slight tremor ran through her shoulders. She hugged her knees to her chest, hiding her face as she spoke, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm not some blessed child. I'm just a stubborn rock, born from revenge, desire, ambition, and guilt."

She took a shaky breath. "And then... I killed them all. My family, my friends, everyone I cared about... How can I deserve love after that diabolical deeds?"

Fujimaru watched her quivering form in the darkness. Without a word, he shrugged off his coat and draped it over her shoulders. He sat down next to her, still silent.

Mordred glanced at him. "Aren't you supposed to comfort me or something? Don't worry, I'm not seeing you as him right now."

He shook his head. "If I tried to comfort you now, you'd probably kill me tomorrow."

She blinked, then let out a short laugh. "You've got that right. My knife's all ready, just waiting for you to say the wrong thing."

"That's why I'm being a rock right now," the young man said. "No hearing, no talking. If someone needs to get something off their chest, this rock can just listen."

She fell quiet for a moment, then tilted her head to look at the moon. "He can't stand me, but he doesn't know how to deal with me either. Just like how that Arthur didn't know how to deal with his Mordred. He was my childhood hero. When I found out he was my father, I was so happy. I pushed myself even harder to become a king like him. After all, if the heir to Eternal King turned out to be a good-for-nothing, people would laugh their heads off, right?"

She sighed. "Truth is, I want to be close to him. Close to that father I've dreamed about, longed for, and yes, resented my whole life. I want to ask him why he didn't choose Britain. I want him to pat my hair, to sit on his shoulders, like any normal girl. But every time I try to get close to him, he just gives me this nasty gaze, like he's looking at a clown in a circus."

He couldn't hold back anymore. "Come on, my future self can't be that awful. You're exaggerating, right?"

She shot him an annoyed look. "Weren't you supposed to be a rock?"

"Hey, even rocks can speak up when they're being slandered!" The young man jabbed a thumb at his chest. "There's no way my future self is as bad as you're making him out to be!"

"Then explain this," she said, her voice rising. "Why does he use my mother's body to talk to me? Isn't he just trying to mess with my head? To see how ugly I can be? Then he can laugh to himself, thinking, 'Just what you'd expect from a product of revenge. Disgusting.'"

"Hold on," he protested. "You're making me out to be some kind of monster. I'd never think of anyone like that, especially not you."

"Oh yeah? Then tell me what you do think," Mordred challenged. "Fujimaru, Artoria, and you - you're all the same. If you don't say it, how am I supposed to know? How?"

The young man's face grew serious. "Look, I don't know what he thinks. But you know what he said to me when the mud took him away? He said, 'Take care of Mordred. Don't let her get hurt.' Even then, he was worried about you."

"Hah, just for show," Mordred scoffed. She stood up abruptly. "I'm done talking. You're a lousy rock." She tossed his coat back at him. "Here. I don't need your pity. I'm not some charity case. I love myself, and that's enough."

With that, she turned on her heel and strode away, leaving the young man holding his coat, looking lost.

"Aren't you going after her?"

Golden particles shimmered beside the young man, materializing into Gilgamesh.

The young man shook his head. "She's got it in for my future self. If I chase her now, I might end up in pieces."

Gilgamesh nodded. "There's a good chance of that, yes."

"What's going on with Shirou and Mordred anyway?" the young man asked, frustrated. "How'd he manage to make her hate him so much?"

"Humans can't really know how others feel, not even different versions of themselves," Gilgamesh mused. "But if you ask me, your future self probably feels the same as Mordred."

"The same?" The young man looked baffled.

Gilgamesh explained, "He doesn't know how to deal with Mordred, so he's testing the waters, trying to figure out where she stands. And Mordred is also doing the exact same thing. So as you've seen, they're both clueless, and the gap between them just keeps growing."

The young man's face twisted in frustration. "Seriously? Can't they just be straight with each other?"

"Ask yourself that," Gilgamesh countered. "If you had a falling out with your best friend and wanted to make up, would you come clean and admit you were wrong?"

Fujimaru paused, then shook his head reluctantly. "...Probably not. If I did, he'd know where my bottom line is, and how far I'm willing to bend. More likely, we'd give each other the silent treatment for a while, then slowly start talking again. Or maybe just call it quits entirely."

"Exactly," Gilgamesh nodded. "Real friendship is built on mutual respect. Human emotions are all about testing the waters. Even the purest family love works this way, let alone friendship or romance. It's just how people are. Don't beat yourself up over it. Just understand it, and you'll gain some wisdom. Those two? They're both experts at this situation. So neither of them has a clue what the other's thinking, and they just keep drifting further apart."

"Ugh! Emotions are such a headache!" Fujimaru raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. "This should be my future self's problem, not mine!" Then, after a pause, he asked, "What am I supposed to do?"

"Why do you need to do anything?" Gilgamesh raised his eyebrows.

Fujimaru hesitated. "I'm just... I guess I'm worried about them."

"Your heart is far too soft," Gilgamesh scoffed. But then his expression softened slightly. "And yet, it's the one thing you have that I envy. So don't lose it, no matter how bleak things get. Keep that sincerity of yours. One day, that spirit of yours might just burst into a blazing flame, becoming a force like no other, lighting up the path to the future."

After that, Mordred kept her distance from the young man, skulking away like a wounded wildcat whenever he appeared. While this left him feeling helpless, it also gave him some insight into her character.

Despite their falling out, Mordred proved surprisingly responsible. She didn't abandon the group, sticking to their plan even as she avoided the young man.

"This is it - the last leyline node," Misaya announced, pointing at the ground beneath her feet. "Once we cut this off, the leylines in Shinjuku will stop flowing. Then we can extract the mana."

The young man nodded. They were finally at the last step. But just as Misaya moved to sever the leyline, a gentle female voice cut through the air: "So, you're the ones who've been cutting off the leylines and siphoning their mana."

Everyone froze, whirling around towards the unexpected presence. There stood a woman, her skin pitch black, clutching an eerie black spear. Killing intent poured from her eyes as she stared at the group.

"A Servant!" Misaya blurted out, her eyes wide. "But that's impossible. I've seen all the Servants... there's no one like her! And from the looks of it... she's a Lancer!"

"It's Manaka's Servant," Fujimaru said, his voice grim.

Gilgamesh, however, seemed unfazed. He appraised the woman like a fine artwork, his voice tinged with curiosity. "And who might you be?"

"Lancer, Brynhildr," she replied, her smile sweet yet dangerous.

"Well, well. The daughter of that Great Norse God?" Gilgamesh mused. "To think you've fallen so far. Tch, gods— But those tears of a pure divine soul, now tainted... they must be exquisitely sweet. What do you say? Care to join my collection?"

"Hey! Gil! You can't be serious!" Fujimaru hissed.

Gilgamesh waved him off. "Don't interrupt, Ex-Master. Can't you see those divine tears? They're a delicacy beyond compare, worthy of my treasury."

Brynhildr's smile turned sharp. "What an honor, but my Master's orders are absolute: kill without question. Your collection will have to do without me!"

With that, she stomped her foot, the ground cracking beneath her, and launched herself at Gilgamesh like a bolt of black lightning.

Gilgamesh's lips curled into a wicked grin. "Oh? Then I'll savor every moment as you beg to join my treasury."

Golden ripples shimmered in the air as he drew two gleaming swords from seemingly nowhere. Without hesitation, he charged to meet Brynhildr head-on.