Chapitre 889: -878- [ Love ] and [ Hate ]
"Lord... Rama...?"
When such an incredibly faint voice reached Rama's ears, he froze in place as if struck by lightning.
This voice...
This sensation...
"Sita...?"
It was indeed his wife, the one Rama had longed for day and night.
While Rama stood there, paralyzed by his wife's voice, the Celtic warriors around him, sensing an opportunity, raised their weapons and charged at him.
This behavior naturally provoked Rama.
"Get out of my way!"
Rama shouted with more excitement and volume than ever before. The Immortal Blade in his hand, like a spinning wheel, unleashed a blossoming sword dance, violently sweeping through the surrounding area.
"Boom!"
Amidst the bombing-like sounds, a powerful gust of wind erupted from Rama's surroundings. Magical energy exploded like a detonation, causing the charging Celtic warriors to be blown away by the storm, even cut in half by the Immortal Blade in mid-air, their bodies disintegrating into two pieces, with hot blood splattering like chunks of meat.
Rama promptly slew all the Celtic warriors obstructing him. Then, he abruptly turned around and looked towards the source of the previous voice.
There, a petite figure had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.
Wearing similar attire to Rama.
Sharing the same features as Rama.
Her fiery red hair was tied into twin tails.
In her hands, she tightly gripped a longbow.
The posture, the appearance—there was no way Rama could mistake it.
"Lord Rama... Lord Rama..."
The girl named Sita stood there, calling Rama's name incessantly, as if in a dream.
"Sita... my wife..."
Having confirmed that his eyes were not deceiving him, Rama trembled, his lips quivering even as he held the Immortal Blade, a hand that had never shaken before.
This was something that would have been absolutely impossible in the past.
The hands of a skilled swordsman should never tremble. Rama, as a hero inheriting extraordinary martial skills, even if Archer was his strongest class, should not have his hands shaking. Yet, at this moment, Rama's hands were indeed trembling.
Simply because...
"Sita... is right before me..."
Just this alone conveyed the state of Rama's emotions.
Due to the curse, the two of them were never supposed to meet. Even if they did, it was definitely not a situation that would bring joy.
However, due to the influence of the Master, Rama's curse has been somewhat suppressed.
Yes.
The curse on Rama has been partially suppressed.
Even if not completely, it should be enough to allow Rama to see Sita, at least for a short time.
Rama believed that all of this was a gift from that Master, causing his heart to swell with joy and gratitude.
"Sita... Sita... I've finally met you... Sita!"
Rama reached out towards Sita and leaned towards her as if in a trance.
However...
"Sita...?"
Noticing that Sita remained standing there as if lost in a dream, with no other reaction, Rama involuntarily halted.
In response...
"Ah... Lord Rama..."
As if just realizing Rama's presence now, Sita gazed at him. Her voice, akin to sobbing, slowly reached him.
"Why won't you believe me? Why?"
Sita's tearful questioning pierced Rama's heart like a series of sharp blades.
"Sita...! Sita...!"
Rama rushed to Sita, embracing her without reservation.
"It was my mistake! I was wrong! I should never have abandoned you! Much less let you suffer like this!"
Rama shouted with all his might.
Unfortunately, Sita remained like a dream, seemingly unaware that Rama was hugging her, continuing to sob.
"I know, Lord Rama is no longer the penniless prince who could only wander with me. You are a king, the great King of Kosala. You need to fight for the country, ensure the people's peace. As for me, I'm just a puppet who fell into the hands of the Demon King for fourteen years, a woman who doesn't deserve Lord Rama. Abandoning me is only natural, right...?"
Sita kept talking incessantly, and as she continued, her tone began to change.
But Rama did not notice this.
"No! That's not true!"
Rama held Sita tightly, screaming, "I believe in you! I've always believed in you, Sita!"
Upon hearing this, Sita suddenly laughed.
A laugh that was unusually bleak.
"Does Lord Rama really want to believe in me?"
Sita, like a broken puppet, laughed.
"But, you know, I've always hated you, Lord Rama."
As the words fell...
"Splurt!"
With the sound of flesh tearing, an arrow pierced through Rama's back, accompanied by a burst of blood.
Intense pain surged into Rama's mind.
"What... is this?"
Rama widened his eyes.
Inside, everything was filled with disbelief.
"Hehe... hehehe..."
Sita continued to laugh, pulling out the arrow and stabbing towards Rama's abdomen.
"Snap!"
With a crisp sound, this time, Rama caught Sita's arrow with one hand before it could penetrate his body.
"Sita... you..."
With one hand covering his bloodied abdomen and the other firmly gripping Sita's hand holding the now blood-stained arrow, Rama gazed at Sita with a growing sense of seriousness.
Only now did Rama notice that something was off with Sita.
The dazed, dreamy, unfocused expression she wore was nothing like the Sita of the past.
And on Sita's face, amidst that expression, were dark lines identical to the corruption on Servants contaminated by the black mud from the Holy Grail, witnessed during the Fuyuki singularity.
"Sita!"
Rama shouted towards her.
"Hehe... hehehehe..."
Sita continued to laugh.
Finally, she uttered these cruel words.
"Could you please die, Lord Rama?"
Uttering such brutal words, Sita's attire gradually turned black.
Rama immediately retreated.
"Swoosh!"
Almost simultaneously, Sita, with a blood-stained arrow on her bow, shot it straight towards Rama, targeting his pupils that had contracted to the size of pinpoints.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone