Fate/Ultimate Antagonist

[99] Throne of Chaos

"I don't really like basking in the sun, because it's too easy to get lost in its warmth, always making me feel like I'm in a fleeting dream."

"You've always been someone's sun, even if it's a black, cold sun, you are their light."

Time seemed to lose its meaning.

The waves along the Ionian coast gently caressed the rocks, eventually dissipating. It was like old friends who hadn't seen each other in a long time, being reunited only to part again.

Splish... Splash...

Two silver-haired youths built sandcastles on the beach, laughing and joking like children, which left Kratos somewhat entranced.

"It's nostalgic, isn't it?"

Standing beside Kratos, Alvin smiled.

"These warm memories are what drive you forward."

Saying so.

As if sensing a familiar sound.

The silver-haired youth slowly turned his gaze towards the training ground beside the beach.

A burly, silver-haired old man wielding a wooden sword effortlessly blocked the attacks of a young man.

Noticing his son's improved swordsmanship.

The old man's eyes were filled with both pride and sorrow.

Vortigern raised his gaze and looked towards the silver-haired youth, slowly forcing a smile from the corners of his mouth.

"You've grown up, Alvin."

"..."

The silver-haired youth lowered his eyelids, remaining silent.

Kratos gazed at his father's aging face.

Vortigern remained sturdy and towering, his figure seeming to uphold both the Britannia's land and sky. The light-devour dragon looked at his grown son, a hint of nostalgia in his expression.

His figure slowly dissipated.

Hand in hand, the silver-haired youth and the black-haired youth strolled leisurely along the coastline of Sparta.

The sea breeze was gentle.

The waves surged.

Dante and Vergil frolicked and played by their side.

Leonidas watched with satisfaction as his three brothers practiced their martial arts.

The red-haired maiden, childhood friend, stood by, tenderly holding a handkerchief in her delicate hands, ready to wipe the sweat from the youth's face.

And so it was.

They walked from the shores of Ionia to the castle of Londinium.

Vortigern and Morgan were bickering in the hall.

Morgan turned her gaze towards the two strolling figures, beginning to beckon them for dinner, her blue eyes slightly narrowed, intoxicated as ever.

They walked from the royal court of Londinium to the outskirts of Essex County.

Artoria stood amidst the golden sea, her flowing golden hair swaying in the wind like the wheat fields.

Seeing the two approach, the golden-haired girl lifted her wooden sword, assuming a serious stance.

However, when she noticed Kay beckoning her for dinner, Artoria immediately dropped the sword, calling out the names of the youth and young man while devouring grilled fish.