Chapter 6: Waver is Depressed

I’m not trying to brag, but I am a genius. If anyone—or rather, no matter who asks—Waver Velvet will give that answer. In cases where the other person is frightening, I might say it only in my head while secretly hurling insults, but a response is still a response, and in my heart, it isn't a lie.

However, the Clock Tower failed to recognize that talent. To make matters worse, the thesis I poured my blood and sweat into was tossed away by someone like Kayneth (again, he’s scary, so I won’t say that to his face). That was the moment my days of hard work and sleep deprivation went down the drain.

Thinking back on it now...

My capacity for rational thought must have gone down the drain at that moment as well. At the very least, I was in a state that could hardly be called sane.

I would show those Magi at the Clock Tower. Those degenerates, obsessed with elitism and bloodlines, who hardly seemed like Magi dedicated to progress. To wake them up, a truly exceptional Magus (like Myself, for example) had to give them a sharp wake-up call. Only then would the Clock Tower return to a normal state where the truly talented are properly evaluated. I would take that burden upon myself. That was fine, too. In any field, the most talented must be pioneers and leaders. If I am aware that I fit that description, then it is only natural to fulfill that duty. Progress yields its greatest effects only through the harmony of the old and the new.

So, why did I participate in the Holy Grail War? To be blunt, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I admit that participating in the first place was a mistake.

—So, please, just...

"LET ME DOOOOOWWWWWNNNN!"

“Don’t start wailing, boy. I am the one in charge right now.”

We were at a location that seemed to have been Caster's Workshop. The reason I say "seemed to" is because Caster had already been eliminated, and only his remnants could be felt. The Magical Energy was stagnant, and the area was spiritually unstable. Even I, who am not particularly skilled at sensing such things, could tell this place had been used for something unspeakable.

This alone was reason enough to leave immediately.

But that wasn't the only thing putting pressure on me. There were already guests in the Workshop. Well, considering why they were here, that was to be expected.

It all started when Rider dragged me out of bed while I was still asleep. When I woke up, wondering what was happening, Rider claimed he had found Archer.

In this Holy Grail War, Archer was the most mysterious Servant. His appearances were extremely rare. This wasn't a coincidence; he was making a conscious effort to stay hidden. A Heroic Spirit is an existence that does not deceive itself. Simply put, Servants are the type to have confidence in their own power, display it grandly, and overcome their opponents. Among them, excluding Assassin, he was the only Servant who hid himself. There was no way not to find that suspicious.

Hiding information and dealing a fatal blow at the critical moment—this is a fundamental of warfare, but it’s rarely understood by Servants who have absolute faith in their own strength. Fundamentally, Magus and Heroic Spirits are often incompatible.

Fighting while completely concealing the object of one's faith is unlike any Heroic Spirit Waver knew. Someone like Rider is an anomaly in the opposite direction, though.

Then there’s the sheer variety of what he can do. These are the few things Waver has grasped: He can forcibly terminate a contract with a Master. He can create a new Master himself. In a short amount of time, he can construct a Territory with a strength that a Magi Workshop couldn't hope to match. And he possesses a flying Noble Phantasm equivalent to Rider’s. On top of that, his parameters are the second-highest after Saber. I couldn't confirm his Skills, but just this much was enough to know he was an anomaly.

Even if it’s a bit reckless, I want information. But I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

That’s why I ordered Rider to track Archer, and I don’t think that was a mistake. The fact that the path led to what appeared to be Caster's Workshop was within the realm of expectation, considering the change in the rules of the Holy Grail War. Happening upon a place that had just been cleared—whether that was "acceptable" or not—was, well, unavoidable. The fact that the location we arrived at was cramped was also somewhat forgivable. It wasn't a battlefield where Rider could fully utilize his abilities, but the same applied to Archer.

The only miscalculation was that Lancer was also there. Or rather, Lancer's Master, Kayneth.

Furthermore, we emerged in a bad position. We were sandwiched between Archer and Lancer, and their bloodlust was directed straight at us. I felt like I was about to die.

"Then let's turn around! We're retreating right now!"

"A chariot is robust, but it is not suited for sudden reversals. Just steel your resolve already."

A large hand slapped down on my head, crushing my resolve. With a sound like a squashed frog, my body sank into the driver’s seat.

In an atmosphere thick with bloodlust and hostility, only Rider remained nonchalant. While everyone else had shifted into a combat stance, he alone remained composed, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It was strange how his usually irritating attitude could feel so reliable in an emergency.

A sharp click of the tongue came from the Golden Servant. His arms hung loosely at his sides, but his crimson eyes were sharp and never moved from Rider.

Looking to the other side, Lancer was even more menacing. He had already leveled his spears, ready to spring forth at any moment. If the chariot’s start was delayed even slightly, my head might go flying. Once I realized that, my muscles tensed as if my body had frozen over.

"So, what did you lot come here for?" Archer spat out. It sounded both bellicose and like he wanted to avoid combat.

"Hmm."

Faced with the overly menacing atmosphere, Rider put a hand to his chin, pondering.

"Why don't you just attack already, Waver Velvet? I never dreamed you'd be so conceited as to think you could win against me just because I'm a little exhausted."

Exhausted? I didn't know what he meant, but I could tell he was irritated. And as much as Waver Velvet was a genius, he was the indoor type. He wasn't optimistic enough to think he could beat Kayneth just because the man was "a little exhausted." And that pessimistic situation was rapidly approaching completion.

"Now, now, magus over there. We simply followed Archer because we spotted him. We have no intention of picking a fight with you right now."

“Which means you came to kill me, right?”

"You're quite the impatient one, aren't you? I just wanted to have a little chat with someone whose face I've never even seen in person. Besides, that presence and bearing of yours... you are a King of some sort as well, are you not? What kind of King loses his composure?"

"Just as you have your 'circumstances as a King,' I have urgent matters of my own. If you have no business here, then leave. I'll let you go. If not, then draw your weapon, mongrel. I'll kill you."

"I see... Your 'business' involves those children over there, doesn't it?"

Ignoring Archer’s irritation completely, Rider gestured with his chin. Following his gaze to the area behind Archer—it had been too dark to see clearly—I realized there were many children lying there. Their clothes were torn and stained with blood. Their sleeping faces were contorted with fear and pain.

"W-what... what's with those kids...?"

“Caster must have abducted them. Since they are being protected like that, it seems they are at least alive."

Whether bloodlust was being directed at him or he was being provoked, Rider’s demeanor didn't change at all. Archer finally let out a sigh, as if giving up on something. His bloodlust withered away, and the pressure I felt decreased proportionally.

My hands, which had been gripping a part of the driver's seat, had turned white. My body was creaking from being tensed for so long. Just how much stress had I been put through in that short amount of time?

"Fine. I'll talk or whatever, so just get it over with. Unlike you, we aren't exactly free."

"What? If you are so busy, I wouldn't mind helping you out."

"How would you be of any help? Just ask what you need to ask and go home."

"Even so... This gloomy place doesn't exactly put one in the mood for talk."

Rider looked around the surroundings with grand gestures. He had complained plenty, but I agreed with him on that point. It was a shame we hadn't gained much significant information, but considering the situation where we could have fought two-on-one in such a disadvantageous location, it was well within the acceptable range. Don't call me a coward; knowing when to give up is also an important part of strategy.

Rider is absurd and utterly outrageous, but it wasn't as if I couldn't empathize with anything he said. Occasionally, he would say something I could actually agree with. This was one of those times. Lancer, Archer, and even Kayneth offered no objections.

Archer’s back rippled, and a flying Noble Phantasm emerged from it.

(I see, so that’s how it appears... Wait? Does that mean it might not be a Noble Phantasm? Usually, Noble Phantasms manifest like gathering mist. Even if they don't, they come forth through a process of their legend. That's why Rider's sword is a 'sub-Noble Phantasm' class armament. It's weird for an Archer's Noble Phantasm to be an aircraft in the first place. Could it be that shimmering 'something' is the actual Noble Phantasm?)

Just being able to see this could be called a harvest. However, I must have been staring too hard, because my eyes met Archer’s sharp gaze.

"You're quite curious, aren't you?"

"N-no... I...!"

The previous pressure returned. My voice was embarrassingly high-pitched, even to my own ears.

"Now, now, don't bully the boy so much. Besides, a King shouldn't get angry every time someone takes a little peek at him."

It was Rider who came to my rescue. He slapped my hunched back, making me stand up straight. At the same time, he laughed off the stern gaze of the mysterious Servant.

Whether Archer was fed up with Rider's attitude or simply had no intention of arguing, he turned his gaze away and began loading the children onto the craft.

"That won't be enough to carry them all. You should put some on my chariot as well."

"What are you planning?"

It was Kayneth who asked, carving his perpetual deep frown even deeper.

"You have no intention of fighting me. I have no intention of picking a fight with you now. In other words, it’s a temporary ceasefire for this place only. Carrying the children will be the proof of that."

Kayneth snorted contemptuously and looked away. Seeing that, Rider shrugged as if to say, What a hopeless fellow.

Ignoring that exchange entirely, Archer continued loading the children onto the craft. He completely ignored the conversation that had just taken place. Watching the Servant continue his work without concern, I wondered if this guy might be the type to go his own way just as much as Rider. I thought it, but I would never say it out loud. And if I thought about it, a Servant who abandoned his Master immediately after being summoned to find another wouldn't exactly be weak-willed.

Archer led the way. The flying Noble Phantasm followed closely behind him, hovering. Behind that, the chariot followed. At the very back, Lancer, Kayneth, and his fiancée (I didn't know her name) followed on foot. It was clearly a formation meant to allow for a pincer attack if anything happened. Rider, who was humming in this situation... to me, he was starting to seem like some kind of alien being.

"By the way, Archer."

There was no verbal response, but Archer’s gaze turned toward the back with an annoyed look. It seemed he was at least listening.

"You were naturally watching the battle between Saber and Lancer at the warehouse. Why did you not respond to my call then?"

What is this guy talking about?—that was the look on Waver’s face, as well as Kayneth’s behind them.

The Holy Grail War. Even though it was basically a small-scale conflict involving only seven pairs and fourteen individuals, it was undeniably a war. Hiding one's True Name is natural, as is hiding one's trump card. For instance, introducing yourself or proudly declaring your name just because someone found out—if you asked which was weirder, it was definitely the latter. In fact, Lancer aside since he’s a knight, it was at the level of asking why Kings who led armies like Rider and Saber would pull such a stunt.

Rider, who put a hand to his chin and tilted his head in wonder, showed no signs of reproach. Was he genuinely curious? The fact that he was even curious about it was what was questionable.

"I saw it. But that’s all."

“Meaning?”

"I didn’t hear you."

“Ah, well, that can't be helped then.”

Even if he seemed unmotivated, he was giving proper answers. Surprisingly, he wasn't that difficult to get along with.

"By the way, what is your name?"

Archer, who had been about to look forward again, turned his gaze back to Rider. His expression had changed. He looked extremely annoyed and disgusted. I could understand that feeling perfectly. I would hate it too if I had a Master who asked such things.

“...Cur, what did you just say?"

"You are a King, are you not? You didn't deny it earlier. If you are a King, you should not hesitate to state your name."

"No, I would hesitate. That’s not how this works. To begin with, the basics of war are to crush the enemy with superior numbers. If you can't do that, you use surprise attacks or internal subversion. Why would I tell my opponent my numbers or my tactics?"

I couldn't help but nod strongly in agreement. Kayneth nodded as well, while Lancer looked quite shocked. But, well, that was their problem, not something I needed to worry about. ...Though Kayneth, who deployed Lancer in the opening battle, couldn't really talk. I wouldn't say that out loud either, obviously.

"What a stingy fellow. I can see the limits of your character."

"Think what you like, whether my character is broad or narrow. While you're busy showing off your 'broad character,' I'll be sure to claim the Holy Grail."

"Hmm... what a stubborn fellow."

"What are you talking about? He’s exactly right!" Waver blurted out.

"What are you saying, boy? Listen, information you can get just by sitting still is negligible. Truly necessary information can only be obtained by moving yourself. Specifically, regarding Archer, all we've learned is that he has an aircraft that rivals my chariot and that there's 'something' that burned this place. He hasn't even shown his true worth as an Archer. Even if it's a bit reckless, you won't know unless you poke him."

Those words took my breath away.

Archer hadn't engaged in what could truly be called combat. Even in the Caster elimination, it was highly likely he hadn't shown his true strength in such a confined space. The things he had done were too varied; it was impossible to even judge which was a technique, which was a Skill, and which was a Noble Phantasm. And he would likely continue to hide them as much as possible.

You won't know unless you try. That is a truth. Can a mouse beat a cat? Do night and day alternate? Is there a pickle in the hamburger? Or will he answer if you ask? It might be reckless, or it might be unexpectedly easy. However, the notion that saying so is "absurd" is a recognition that everyone shares. It’s common sense, so it’s natural. Because it's natural, no one tries it. It's meaningless.

In other words, it is common sense and habit. Because it's common sense, it's natural. Because it's a habit, it's to be expected. They are matters that don't need to be done or confirmed. The answer is the kind of thing that's just there without having to ask. If that settles things, then fine. Anything more is superfluous, and there's no need to take risks to see unnecessary things.

So, how do you determine the risk of not knowing? If you take this much risk, you get this much merit back. If you knew that, it would already be common sense and habit. Everyone would have confirmed it and worn it out.

Since that isn't enough, you have to try, even if it’s absurd.

He didn't care about anyone else, and that's why he tested things without considering common sense. He knew that was where a new path lay. That is why he is the King of Conquerors, unburdened by hesitation.

Rider was right. Unless you try everything, you won't know anything. If you cower and hold back, all you gain is the satisfaction of having been "sensible." And that is truly meaningless.

I felt as though my own smallness had been laid bare. I felt an indescribable sense of defeat.

"True. It would have been perfect if you hadn't said that in front of the person himself."

"What are you saying? I, Iskandar, have no one to fear. Therefore, there is nothing I could be asked that would trouble me."

"It's trivial!"—he laughed it off. Then, immediately after, his face brightened like a child's, and he leaned forward.

"So, will you give me some kind of reaction if I poke you? For me, even something like your wish for the Holy Grail would be fine."

The Archer who was addressed paused to think. It was a rare reaction. Until now, he had clearly drawn a line between what he could and couldn't say and answered instantly. Even so, he didn't think for very long.

"Incarnation."

“Oh-ho, So you are the same as me? What is it? Do you plan to build your own empire once more in this world?" 

"I have no interest in that. I just want to live normally."

In reality, it was hard to imagine "normal" for a Heroic Spirit. To begin with, they were essentially a high school reunion for ancient people. And here they were, holding such a frantic and chaotic banquet. It was no surprise that no one could imagine anything good when he said he wanted to "live normally." Likely any Master would have given a similar reaction.

"Even so..."

A murmur. A small voice. It wasn't meant for anyone; it was like an extension of a monologue. Just a sound that leaked out.

No, "leaked out" wasn't quite accurate. At least for Archer. It wasn't just leaked; it was "accidentally let slip."

"That’s only if the Holy Grail can actually grant it."

"H-hey! Wait a minute, what does that mean!?"

That was definitely not something I could ignore. Even though my goal was simply to "win" the Holy Grail rather than having a specific wish.

Rider’s smile deepened. It wasn't the good-natured one from before. If I had to describe it... it was the smile of a King.

"So you did know something. You haven't just been dedicated to information gathering in the first half for nothing. You are likely closer to the truth of the Holy Grail than any other camp."

"Rider, what does that mean? The truth of the Holy Grail... do you know something too?"

Lancer’s voice was stern and urgent.

"I hate to say it after acting so high and mighty, but I know nothing. I simply felt a vague sense of wrongness. So, I thought I’d ask someone who seemed to have a better grasp of it."

Everyone’s eyes gathered on Archer at once. He was looking forward, so his expression couldn't be seen. But an answer came back. Along with a sigh.

"I have no proof."

"But you’re confident enough, right? Then tell us."

I leaned out from the driver’s seat, nearly throwing my body forward. It wasn’t that I wasn’t afraid of Archer’s sharp, flashing gaze. It was just that this was a place where I couldn’t back down. Even though my legs were shaking uncontrollably, I held my ground.

"The Holy Grail calls in those who have a wish. If there aren't enough, it fills the numbers with those nearby who have potential—in this case, Magic Circuits. But what is their criteria? In this vast city, he couldn't have been the only one with Magic Circuits. Yet the Holy Grail chose a pair of serial killers from the candidates. It’s as if it’s saying they are the most suitable."

"H-hey, wait! Does that mean the Holy Grail is an incredibly dangerous object!?"

If what he was saying was correct, the Holy Grail desired destruction and slaughter—that’s how it sounded.

"However, you are still remaining manifested. And with the intention of winning. Tell me, Archer... is that Holy Grail something that can be managed? Or is it something so bad that it must be dealt with?"

"...Both. As long as this Holy Grail is a thaumaturgical ritual, the cooperation of a Magus is indispensable."

"So that's the reason behind your alliance with Lancer."

Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald is one of the world's leading magi. Certainly, if it were Kayneth, he might be able to do something about the Holy Grail’s abnormality. Conversely, if he couldn't do it, no one could.

"Interesting, truly interesting, Archer. A vessel I have yet to see. On top of that, a King like myself. I'm starting to want to compare our worth."

Rider stood up tall on the chariot. A beast-like smile targeted Archer. It contained no murderous intent or fighting spirit. It was pure pressure—what Rider would call the radiation of a King’s Vessel.

Standing next to him, I was completely overwhelmed. My own Servant was showing a side I had never seen before. Even though it wasn't directed at me, I felt like I would succumb to the aftereffects alone. And Archer continued to walk nonchalantly despite receiving it. Both of them were abnormal—insane. I couldn't understand them at all.

Rider’s momentum didn't stop. He crushed his beard with his gnarled fingers, stroking it. His eyes were wide open, glowing brilliantly.

"However, in this war, it's not interesting for three Kings to just gather and merely cross swords. Don’t you want to test each other’s worth as kings? Hmm?"

"...Wine?"

"Heh, hahaha! So you aren't just a stiff, you can actually hold a conversation. Now I truly want to peek into your vessel. Then, you have no objection, right? We shall each bring the cup we uphold and show each other what lies within."

A glaring, unquenchable silence that felt like it would howl at any moment. A battle that was not a battle. Was it despite that, or because of it? Rider showed a ferocity he hadn't shown once in the Holy Grail War thus far.

"Lancer, you should come as well. Though not a King, you are a knight. Show a vessel worthy of that. If you refuse my invitation, prove that you cannot fit within my vessel."

In his heart, Lancer probably wanted to go. But as a loyal knight, he would not disregard his Master’s will. He looked to Kayneth, who remained lost in thought, showing no sign of responding. It didn't seem like the news about the Holy Grail had shocked him that much... but his inner thoughts remained unknown.

"The location will be Saber’s place."

"Umu, it shall be so. There’s no other suitable place."

"...Very well. Lancer, I grant you permission to participate."

"Thank you, Lord Kayneth. There you have it, King of Conquerors. I shall join as well."

I don’t know what the deciding factor in that conversation was. But apparently, there was an element of decision there, and he looked up from his contemplative posture.

"So, what time should we head there?"

"Huh? Just head over whenever you've finished your business."

"No."

For some reason—honestly, for some reason—Archer said it with a completely serious face.

"I hate waiting and being made to wait. If you don't specify a time, I won't go."

"How should I put it... you're a hard one to read. In that case, ah... since wine is involved, how about after ten?"

"Understood. I'll be there at ten."

The path that had seemed like an instant because we were flying on the chariot felt incredibly long when moving slowly. Finally, we were able to emerge into the sunlight. Because we had been in a dark place for so long, the sunlight hurt my eyes.

The ceasefire was decided to be extended, and they departed on the spot. We ended up being saddled with half the children, but we had to accept that as unavoidable.

More importantly, there was something I had to say. Above all else, at least this.

"Rider."

"Hmm? What is it, boy?"

"Seriously, be on time. Archer is the type who absolutely won't forgive breaking a schedule—whether it's him or someone else."

“...Hmm, I thought so too.”

Throughout the whole encounter, he had been a somewhat detached character. But the part where he pointed out the time was so serious it was scary in a different way.

I should say I talked too much, or rather, I was made to talk. I ended up letting Rider know way too much. It’s true there were things he needed to hear, but the fact that he managed to snatch other information in the process... I have to say, that’s Iskandar for you.

And it seems I’ve encountered another new problem. Somehow, my manner of speaking unconsciously shifts slightly to resemble Gilgamesh’s whenever I become emotional or lose my composure. Perhaps Gilgamesh’s body is starting to influence me—I need to be more careful.

Regardless, he’s incredibly good at creating an atmosphere for talking. And if you don’t speak, he’ll make it seem as though you’re being untrustworthy. It’s probably unintentional—his personality doesn’t lend itself to scheming—but if he were doing it consciously, I doubt anyone could surpass him at it. Well, at least his playful nature makes him less dangerous in that regard.

"So, I’d like an explanation soon, if you don't mind?"

After dealing with the children (though I just left them in a suitable place and contacted the police and the Church), we entered an empty part of the city. Kayneth, who had set up a Bounded Field just in case, asked the question. Even if there were reasons I couldn't say it, he didn't like being kept in the dark about the Holy Grail, and tension was visible between his brows.

“There must be a reason you went along with that fool Rider’s suggestion. Otherwise, you wouldn't bother going along with an invitation to a banquet in the middle of a Holy Grail War."

It was about five steps. That was the space between me and Kayneth. It was a bit too wide, so his voice was loud. Since he had also set up a silencing Bounded Field, it wasn't a problem, technically. Unless someone had sent a Familiar in advance, we wouldn't be overheard.

By the way, the slight distance was for Sola-Ui. She had little interest in the Holy Grail War and was usually stuck to Lancer’s side. Since his primary protection target was nearby, Lancer couldn't carelessly approach me. That meant Kayneth had to keep his distance to match Lancer. Also, the reason his attitude toward me was so prickly was that his fiancée was openly flirting right next to him. I had my complaints about being the target of his venting, but he was so pitiful I didn't have the heart to point it out.

"Where do you think the Holy Grail is?"

“Where, you ask?”

He gave a sharp, derisive snort. His expression clearly said, What a foolish question.

“The answer is simple—it exists in a place beyond this world. If you ask where, then the answer is nowhere.”

"True. But as long as this is a thaumaturgical ritual, there needs to be a vessel for the preliminary stage before reaching that place. A path to reach the Holy Grail by accumulating what was 'achieved' in the ritual."

"...I see, then it clearly exists in this world. And... the Einzberns have it! I see, so that’s why you went along with Rider’s talk?"

“Rider’s idea to infiltrate the Einzbern Castle was his own. They’ll naturally be on guard, but it’s incomparable to us infiltrating directly. If we can get a fragment of the Holy Grail or a part of the ritual formula there..."

"Even if we can't reach the Holy Grail directly, we can at least observe it. From there, we can investigate the abnormality and devise countermeasures, is that it?"

“Exactly. And while we’re at it, we can also gather intelligence on the enemy. In short, we’ll be doing to the Einzberns what Rider did to us.”

To be honest, I didn't want to do that. But I want to confirm the connection between Kiritsugu and Kariya. Especially if Kariya is dedicated to treatment at the castle, it involves Berserker’s abilities.

Regarding this, I intended to do it alone even if Lancer and the others didn't come. Either way, a preliminary investigation of Irisviel is necessary. Naturally, I won't share the information I gain here with Kayneth and the others. It’s likely because they sensed that that they decided to follow. If we're in a relationship close to being in the same boat, increasing the success rate of what I do even slightly is also in their interest.

"If we're to avoid alerting the opponent, we can't move flashily. How do you plan to locate it—or take part of it?”

“Our target is most likely Irisviel herself. It can't be taken out by normal means, but taking just a small portion won’t be a problem.”

I say "likely," but I actually know.

Taking out the Holy Grail inside Irisviel is easy with the power of a Noble Phantasm. Of course, if I tried to take all of the contained Holy Grail, I’d definitely be noticed. But if I just snatch a tiny portion, no abnormality will occur. In other words, no reaction that would get us noticed will appear.

I heard a sigh that was close to resignation. Well, I can understand the feeling. I’d probably be the same if the positions were reversed.

“I suppose we could also try telling them, ‘There’s something wrong with the Grail,’ just to see how they react…”

“Don’t bother. It’s pointless.”

Kayneth declared with a face full of confidence. There must have been a thaumaturgical logic of his own to affirm the Holy Grail’s abnormality. It was overflowing with the pride that no one but him could understand it.

"Ah, just to confirm. You're coming with Lancer, right?"

“Of course.”

No matter how much of a base we’ve secured, it’s only a temporary one. The defensive capability from here on out will be, at best, enough to prevent the intrusion of a second-rate magus. For better or worse, a Workshop is something that exhibits its best performance when the master is present. it’s nothing like the protective barriers I can create with my Noble Phantasm.

Sending Lancer alone is out of the question. If a battle breaks out, there would be concerns about the mana supply. At the very least, Kayneth has to go. However, as mentioned before, leaving Sola-Ui alone in the Workshop made the danger of assassination terrifyingly high. There’s no way Sola-Ui could make the Workshop Kayneth constructed function to its full potential, in terms of both ability and experience.

After all, we were dealing with someone willing to blow up an entire building to seize a workshop. Facing an opponent like that with that level of defense would be suicidal. Furthermore, if the Assassin Servant is still alive, even the base prepared on the upper floors of the hotel could hardly be called perfect.

Naturally, having Sola-Ui stay at my base was never an option. Hiding from danger in a bear’s den is pure stupidity.

"Then I'll come pick you up when the time comes. Just tell me which base you chose."

"This one."

At the same time as showing me a piece of paper, he handed over the rest. Personally, even if I had such things, I’d have no use for them, so I wouldn't have minded if he’d kept them. Well, they likely didn't want to owe me any favors.

I parted with them on the spot and turned my back.

From here on, Kayneth will have a hard time. He’s already been pulling an all-nighter. On top of that, he’s gone through two battles—the Einzbern Castle and the sewers. His fatigue must be close to the limit. Even if the mana supply to the Servant is handled by someone else, and the second time was only for assistance, it isn't easy. Will he take a nap before constructing the territory, or sleep after making a defense line? Either way, it’ll be quite a while before he can rest properly. Come to think of it, he has to go to the Church too. Since he defeated Caster, he can get a Command Spell.

We had no intention of claiming one. If it were usable, it might have been worth the trouble—but if not, it would just be a wasted trip.

The most important key to Command Spells seems to be based on will. The surge of emotion required to trigger it—that is what creates sharp directivity and miracles. In other words, for Sakura, whose emotions are almost dead, a Command Spell will not activate no matter what. It is designed to be used by a human, and it isn't made so that a "doll" can use it. It’s a harsh way of putting it, but it was the most fitting expression.

“I’m home.”

I called out after returning home, but there was no answer. And the room was pitch black. The curtains were drawn tight, and no lights were on.

For a second, I thought someone had attacked, but then I dismissed it. It’s almost impossible to slip through the gaps in my surveillance network. If it were a brute-force attack, I would have noticed long ago. Above all, the flow of the Path (Line) was normal.

I slowly entered the room. The interior was, as expected, dark. As I felt around for the light switch, I suddenly heard a small sound. A clatter-clatter sound, like something vibrating slightly. The source of the sound was quickly found. It was Sakura, in the corner of the room.

"H-hey, did something happen!"

I rushed over and touched her. her body temperature had dropped like ice, and there was no response. No, the response was just incredibly sluggish, but it was there. her chin slowly lifted, and our eyes met. It wasn't just a ghost. They were the eyes of a dead person.

I couldn't see well, but her lips were likely pale. They opened slightly.

“...people… red… it hurts…”

“Fool! I told you so many times not to look!"

Whether it was curiosity, or she remembered a familiar smell, or it was just a coincidence. Whatever it was, she had seen it. The scene of hell, like the place she used to belong to.

I thought Sakura wouldn't change much in this short period of time. But I was wrong. Just because it wasn't visible didn't mean her heart wasn't steadily being healed. And it was because it was being healed that she felt such strong terror at that sight. Despite huddling in the corner of the room, afraid even of the light, she couldn't even let out a voice. She couldn't even cry, just becoming small in the corner of the room as if giving up on something approaching.

"It’s okay now. You’re safe… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

I held the empty, trembling girl tightly in my arms. Would that change anything? Would it make her feel safe? Maybe I just wanted to believe that being kind to her could somehow make up for everything.

Who was really being comforted here? I hug her, speak gently, wipe her tears if she cries—and then I tell myself, “It’s all right now.”

It’s laughable. A cheap, melodramatic act straight out of a bad movie. Maybe it’s fitting, really—a pamphlet for a tragedy called Self-Justification, thrown into the trash where it belongs.

I’m the one who saved Sakura from that pit of worms.

I’m the one who dragged her into the Holy Grail War.

I’m the reason she witnessed Caster’s grotesque horror show.

And I’m the one holding her now as she trembles from her trauma.

What a cruel, miserable story.

How many more times will I hurt her like this? And each time, will I just keep deceiving myself with the same empty comfort? Probably. At least until the Holy Grail War ends.

“He was… laughing… like Grandfather…”

Her small hands, which had been clutching her knees, slowly reached around my back, seeking warmth—seeking a guardian. Even if that guardian was me. Of course. She has no one else to rely on except me. 

The only person who’s ever “cared” for her is the one who used her as a tool—me.

There’s nothing I can do. All I can offer is this hollow kindness that makes her feel safe.

Still, if that’s all I can do, then I’ll do it—for as long as she needs it. I held her small, trembling body tightly, as if to share some warmth with the frozen girl.

By the time Sakura’s trembling stopped, the clock was nearing nine.