Fate Apocrypha Volume 3

Chapter 3.5

It was... a dream of freedom.

The knight loved to fly. If you were to ask why, it was because he could fly both up and down, apparently.

Was it simply that he liked the choice of having as many directions as possible to fly?

It was not worth mincing words. In any case, the knight was free. Although born as the prince of England, he had tossed aside all things which he considered nuisances, such as the matter of inheriting the throne. One would imagine that the impression he gave to others would be of an insufferable upstart. And yet, perhaps due to his inborn good nature, all seemed to like him.

From the moment he was born, nobody could resent him. Everybody became friendly with him. He was naive, perhaps... or foolish, or reckless. He was not a wise knight.

But he coveted nothing. Valuables seized from his enemies would be unceremoniously gifted to others.

He despaired at nothing. When he became transformed into a myrtle tree by the fearsome witch Alcina, he waited cheerily, nonchalantly, until someone came along to return him to normal.

In his foolishness, he would fail. In facing a great foe, he would sometimes lose... and sometimes win. He was only average in terms of strength. However, the sorts of adventures he had overcome, and the sheer number of them, was beyond extraordinary compared to ordinary knights.

He was weak, but he was brave. As many times as he had been knocked down, not once could he be kept down.

Even his death was without fanfare. At the battle of Roncevaux Pass, despite being caught unawares by treason, the Twelve Peers of Charlemagne fought valiantly. However, they were still greatly outnumbered, four hundred thousand against twenty thousand. Continually pressed by twenty against one, not even a great warrior could hold for long.

Those battle-hardened braves fell, one by one, and they were soon joined by the knight. Letting out a sigh, his hand reached out toward the void – but with a laugh, he stopped it. His contented smile showed no hint of regret. Even as he laid covered with his own seeping blood, and tormented by the pain of approaching death, the knight appeared completely at peace.

But, if...

If there was one wish remaining in him as he faced death...

"Yeah... I want to see that place again."

It was likely the knight's most treasured memory, visiting that boundless world said to contain all things which did not exist on this earth – the alien world that no one had seen before, in the great beyond.

Those were mere murmurs, uttered in the haze of his death. But it was a wish in its own right, a desire that ought to be granted. So, as his Master, I wanted to grant it for Astolfo. No matter how high and noble the wishes of the others were...

Suddenly, the world became distorted. My mind leapt beyond the safety and security of dreams and the subconscious, torn away by the grasp of a dreadful power.

I felt hot, as though my skin had been set on fire – and cold, as though my body was being frozen from the inside out.

Yes, it was obvious what was before me.

There was no point in averting my eyes, in taking up arms to fight. I knew what this monster was.

I knew that I would have to face it eventually. I knew its true form.

It was the most famous episode among the legends of the great hero Siegfried... the slaying of the dragon. With the phantasmal sword Balmung in hand, he stood against the evil dragon Fafnir. What could be more fitting a tale for a hero such as him?