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(Fate) Chapter 240: Old Friend.
🕑 Added 2024-12-27 16:54:11 +0000 UTCThe boy suddenly paused mid-sentence, seemingly at a loss for words.
After all, Enkidu wasn’t a "beautiful lady."
She was neither male nor female, though her appearance was undeniably beautiful.
Seeing his hesitation, Enkidu, gazing at him with her star-like green eyes, smiled warmly.
"Ahem, hello. My name is Promise,"
After hesitating for a moment, the boy finally introduced himself with a light cough and a cheerful grin.
"Hello," Enkidu replied, standing gracefully and nodding gently. "I am Enkidu."
Seeing this scene, the young man, who was watching from the shadows, furrowed his brow.
He couldn’t understand why Enkidu, a Servant, would so casually reveal her identity to this unexpected intruder.
Simultaneously, a trace of surprise flickered in his eyes upon hearing Enkidu’s name.
"Wait… If she truly is the Enkidu from mythology, the divine weapon created by the gods, then…"
The young man Faldeus was stunned for a moment, then he subconsciously turned his head and looked into the distance.
Within the six Servants of the false Holy Grail War, Enkidu, who was summoned by the synthetic beast, represented the Lancer class.
And also among the false Holy Grail War’s participants was the Archer—Gilgamesh.
The tireless "workhorse" of the Nasuverse, the demigod hero king who was two-thirds divine and one-third human!
And they were friends—no, closer than friends.
To Gilgamesh, Enkidu was his one and only true companion.
Realizing this, Faldeus stood stunned for a moment and by the time he finally snapped out of it, he noticed that the Egyptian mage had already fled far away.
Seeing this, Faldeus hesitated briefly, glancing between Enkidu and Promise.
"Promise… That name sounds familiar. I feel like I’ve heard it somewhere before."
"In any case, this person definitely isn’t a Servant. I can afford to observe him further."
The young man Faldeus judged the current situation in his mind, and finally turned around and chased in the direction where the Egyptian mage fled.
As he left, Enkidu instinctively glanced in his direction but made no move to stop him.
Though her Master; the silver wolf, who was now resting peacefully in her arms, with its wounds healed, held no intention of harming the Egyptian mage who had created it, Enkidu saw no reason to protect him either.
Not to mention…
"You don’t seem like someone from this era,” Enkidu said, withdrawing her gaze from the shadows as her emerald-green eyes turned back to Promise, "But… you do, undeniably, live in this era."
The latter smiled lightly in response.
He then, plucked the strings of the silver harp in his hands again, offering no further explanation.
Enkidu also smiled, her voice warm and gentle as she asked, "You came here for me, didn’t you? Is there something you need my help with?"
For reasons unknown—even though this was their first meeting and the time they’d spent together was fleeting—Enkidu, a weapon crafted by the gods, found herself feeling an inexplicable fondness for Promise.
In that instant, Promise’s standing in Enkidu’s heart rose dramatically, second only to Gilgamesh.
How could one describe Enkidu’s perception of Promise?
It felt as though, should thier body suffer damage or begin to rust, he was the one who could carefully restore and polish her until she was pristine once more.
In Enkidu’s eyes, this was the impression he gave.
This perception wasn’t entirely unfounded.
After all, Promise had once been the pupil of the god of craftsman Hephaestus, who was both his goddess and his teacher.
The pure white brush that could paint the heavens with the presence of the gods themselves was Hephaestus’s creation, a gift to Promise.
At the same time, Promise had unintentionally learned a divine skill from her—sculpting.
Not ordinary sculpting, but the kind that imbued life into a creation the very moment it was completed.
In this sense, Enkidu’s intuition about him was strikingly accurate.
Promise shook his head softly and replied, "No, I don’t need anything from you. Perhaps it was my goddess, or maybe destiny itself, that led me to stand before you."
"And to honor your presence, I wish to offer you the beauty of my music. And also…"
At this point, the boy hesitated, a faint trace of embarrassment coloring his expression. “Enkidu, may I ask… would you mind if I painted a portrait of you?”
“…A painting?”
Hearing this, Enkidu froze for a moment, visibly taken aback.
What puzzled her even more was that, as the boy spoke, his eyes seemed to light up with genuine excitement.
"Yes, a painting!”
Promise nodded earnestly at Enkidu, his tone serious and determined.
After a brief pause, he continued,
"In fact, I’ve been wondering for days what I’m even supposed to do here. Am I really just going to copy Brother Horse and spend my time grazing grass and enjoying the spectacle?"
"If this goes on, I feel like some meddlesome figure will show up to rope me into their schemes. Maybe they’ll even put me to work!"
At this point, Promise couldn’t help but purse his lips in mild annoyance.
As a transmigrator, he was well aware of many of the secrets behind this Holy Grail War, including the schemes surrounding both the false and true wars.
One of the main reasons for this elaborate ritual, as he knew, was to prevent the arrival of the Ruler class Servant—the mediator of Holy Grail Wars.
Once the false Holy Grail War transitioned into a true one, the Ruler would no longer be able to intervene or mediate.
This, in turn, was why the planet’s counterforce, Alaya, would eventually be forced to intervene directly, directing its attention toward the events in Snowfield.
Under such circumstances, Promise, who had wandered into the chaos seemingly for amusement, would undoubtedly be viewed as the ideal enforcer in Alaya's mind.
After all, Promise had already surpassed the conventional requirements to qualify as a Ruler in any Holy Grail War, let alone this one.
He had been chosen by the ancient Greek goddess Themis, the blindfolded embodiment of absolute justice.
Their fates were intertwined by the threads of destiny, and she had personally tipped the scales of judgment in his favor.
The very Sword of Judgment, a symbol of divine authority, now rested in his hands.
Given all this, if Promise were to deny his qualifications to act as a Ruler, even Jeanne d’Arc, the quintessential Ruler herself, would probably have to step aside in awkward silence, unable to argue otherwise!
However, Promise clearly had no interest in becoming Alaya’s pawn.
Yet, as he wandered aimlessly, unable to find a purpose, the thought of somehow obtaining a set of Command Seals and joining the Holy Grail War himself began to cross his mind.
However, as he told Enkidu just now, it was as though the goddess or fate itself had guided him.
The moment Enkidu descended, Promise found himself here.
And in the instant he saw the other party, Promise understood his role in this Holy Grail War.
"So, Enkidu, may I paint a portrait of you?"
Promise’s eyes lit up with excitement, and his gaze was filled with a yearning so intense that it startled Enkidu as they instinctively stepped back, momentarily taken aback by the raw “desire” in his expression.
Realizing their reaction, Enkidu chuckled softly and nodded gently.
"Of course, you may. Although I don’t know why, the world tells me that this is a great honor for me."
With those words, they even bent forward, bowing deeply to Promise in a formal gesture of gratitude.
"However…"
Then, they tilted their head slightly, their emerald eyes glimmering as they looked off toward a particular direction in Snowfield.
Looking at that direction, their lips curled into a smile—a mixture of surprise and joy.
After all, ar this moment, their presence-detection ability had sensed an all-too-familiar presence from this era.
Not only that, but the other party had clearly noticed them as well… and responded.
Thus…
"Could I trouble you to wait a little longer?" Enkidu turned her gaze back to Promise. "I must meet someone and finish an unfinished battle. After that… please, paint me then!"
.
.
.
.
“Promise, I entrust my Master to you,” Enkidu said softly, standing beside the silver synthetic wolf as their gaze lingered on a distant figure as they prepared for the departure.
At that moment, the forest seemed to come alive, its will entwining with Enkidu’s.
Trees began growing rapidly, the earth itself responding to her call.
Magic surged like a powerful river, swirling through the ground.
"I see," Promise nodded slightly and stepped toward the now-healed silver wolf.
Reaching out, he gently patted its head.
The wolf did not resist; instead, it closed its eyes as if relishing his touch.
"Wonderful. It seems it doesn’t reject me," Promise said with a smile.
"It would never reject you,” Enkidu replied, their tone carrying an air of certainty as they gazed at Promise warmly and continued,
"I can sense that the world holds immense goodwill toward you.”
"They love you deeply."
Hearing these words from Enkidu, Promise glanced at her, nodding slightly before speaking,
"Then go on. Don’t let your friend wait too long… Don’t worry, the wolf is very adorable. I’ll protect it."
As he spoke, Promise gently stroked the silver-furred wolf beside him once again.
At his assurance, a visible sense of relief appeared on Enkidu’s face.
“Thank you.” After a soft expression of gratitude, the forest responded to their call, however, just as they was about to leave, a thought seemed to occur to them, and they turned their emerald gaze back toward Promise.
(Fuck this....I'm using she...Its too confusing..)
"Oh, right. Aren’t you going with me?” Enkidu asked. "If it’s him, I think you’d also be quite interested in painting him, wouldn’t you?”
After all, the person she referred to was none other than her dear friend—the oldest Heroic Spirit, the King of Heroes!
"Not just anyone is worthy of being immortalized in my paintings, whether on the night sky or the heavens," Promise replied with a squint, addressing her question.
Then, before she could respond, he chuckled and added,
"But I’ll admit, he does qualify. After all, he’s the oldest Hero King. That said… I’m not interested in his current state.”
"His current state?" Enkidu asked, tilting her head slightly in curiosity.
"If it were the Wise King, I wouldn’t hesitate to paint him… And I think that day may not be too far in the future."
Promise’s lighthearted tone and smile carried a certain certainty, as though he had glimpsed something beyond the present.
This made Enkidu feel an unmistakable sense of destiny emanating from him.
This couldn't help but make Enkidu feel a little confused for a moment.
From the very beginning, she had sensed an aura of night and wisdom from him. But now…
"Also, while he may not remember… no, with his clairvoyance, I imagine he’s already aware."
Promise thought about it, and then continued to say to Enkidu,
"The truth is, he’s done some rather unforgivable things to my friends.
So, before I paint him, I think it’s far more likely that I’ll choose to fight him first."
Heracles, Shirou Emiya, Rin Tohsaka—they were the friends he referred to.
Hearing this, Enkidu didn’t seem offended at all.
Instead, she nodded in understanding, even smiling faintly.
After all, it wasn’t unusual for people to want to fight Gilgamesh.
"Thank you for your honesty, Promise,” she said. "I think I understand now. Then… I’ll leave my Master in your hands."
With those words, the land that resonated with Enkidu’s will carried her forward, guiding her to her friend
