At the break of dawn, Sakatsuki and Karna safely returned to the church.
"You two did well," the white-haired priest said, already waiting at the pulpit. Facing his praise, Lancer remained indifferent, nodding slightly before taking his leave. Sakatsuki also intended to go, but Amakusa stopped him.
"Please wait, Lord Sakatsuki. I'd like to discuss the enemy's intel with you." Amakusa smiled gently, having clearly witnessed the entire battle through surveillance magecraft.
The silver-haired swordsman who fought fiercely with Karna needed no further explanation from Sakatsuki. However, the Black Assassin, who had clashed with him without being at a disadvantage, left both Amakusa and the Empress puzzled.
"May I ask, did you get a clear look at his—or her—face during the battle?"
Naturally, Sakatsuki shook his head.
"As you saw, that person has a Noble Phantasm that controls the wind. Even if I tried to remove the mask, this Black Assassin wouldn't have given me the chance."
"Ah... I thought as much." After murmuring this, Amakusa shifted the discussion to the only visible and somewhat identifiable aspect of the masked warrior—their weapon.
"When you fought the Black Assassin, did their weapon trigger any special effects?"
Again, Sakatsuki shook his head.
"No. It was purely a contest of skill and strength between us. I don't believe their weapon enhances abilities."
"I see... Actually, before this, I had already discussed it with Assassin." The Assassin Amakusa referred to was, of course, the Empress he had summoned. "That spear carries an intense curse. Initially, we suspected it might belong to Diarmuid Ua Duibhne of the Knights of Fianna, the 'Knight of the Luminous Countenance,' or Cú Chulainn of the Red Branch Knights, the 'Child of Light.' However..."
"However, both have appeared in previous Holy Grail Wars, and records of them remain in the Church."
The Empress emerged gracefully from the shadows, continuing Amakusa's train of thought. "Moreover, that Assassin possesses a wind-controlling Noble Phantasm, meaning they couldn't be either of the two we speculated. By the way, how was their combat skill? What were their parameters?"
For some reason, Amakusa Shirou, who possessed 'True Name Discernment,' couldn't perceive the 'Black' Assassin's stats—just as Jeanne d'Arc couldn't either. Though in her case, her attention had been entirely fixated on Sakatsuki, causing her to overlook Artoria, who had been fighting him.
In any Holy Grail War, information was crucial. Thus, Amakusa and the Empress had no choice but to turn to Sakatsuki, hoping he could provide rough estimates based on their battle.
"Their skill was on par with mine, and their parameters were excellent..." Sakatsuki naturally wouldn't reveal all of Artoria's intel, but to maintain credibility, he disclosed one attribute.
"At the very least, their Agility is rank A."
For an Assassin, an A-rank in Agility wasn't particularly surprising, but it did confirm that the enemy's Assassin was no third-rate fighter.
Amakusa silently noted down this information before turning to the Empress. "Coming to find me at this hour—is there something you need?"
"Yes," the Empress nodded crisply. "My pigeons have informed me that Berserker has crossed into Black Faction's defensive perimeter and is advancing further toward the Fortress of Millennia."
"I see." Amakusa paused briefly, then turned to Sakatsuki. "It seems we'll have to trouble you again."
The Black Faction would never let a lone 'Red' Berserker slip away, and the Red Faction would never stand by while their Servant fell into enemy hands. In other words, battle was practically inevitable.
Though Amakusa had already sent word to the Saber pair operating independently from their team, he judged that neither Lion King nor Mordred would involve themselves in this fight.
Sakatsuki, with his formidable combat prowess and exceptional mobility, would naturally replace Red Saber as the one deployed to the battlefield.
In response to Amakusa's request, Sakatsuki answered with a confident smile.
"As I've said before—I welcome every battle."
———
Meanwhile, Reika Rikudou, having returned to the fortress, received praise from Vlad III and Darnic before being questioned about Sakatsuki's capabilities.
The other Masters had long since departed. In the ancient, shadowed throne room, Reika lowered her eyes respectfully as she relayed Sakatsuki's information to the two leaders.
"His primary weapons are a pair of pistols, and he possesses considerable skill in magecraft. He also seems capable of discerning weaknesses..."
Unlike Sakatsuki, Reika held no initiative within the Black Faction. Thus, Sakatsuki had specifically instructed her to reveal more information to earn Darnic's further trust.
"I see. Remarkable magecraft and the ability to perceive weaknesses—no wonder he could identify Lord Vlad's Noble Phantasm traits."
After a long moment of contemplation, Darnic looked up at Reika, his gaze filled with unmistakable approval.
"Well done, Reika Rikudou. You've brought no shame to the Yggdmillennia name."
"It was nothing. Just my duty." The delicate woman appeared as harmless as ever, nodding gently before withdrawing from the throne room with Darnic's permission.
For Reika, what she most wanted now was likely to return to her room and reunite with her beloved daughter.
Before the war fully erupted, the Masters and Servants within the Fortress of Millennia had only limited leisure time, each spending those fleeting moments as they pleased.
"Will this do?"
"Yes, thank you."
After confirming the pain-relieving medicinal broth and powder Archer had brought for her aching legs, Fiore drank it all in one go, her face twisting at the bitterness. A piece of candy promptly appeared before her.
"Thank you, Archer."
Gratefully accepting it, she unwrapped the candy and placed it in her mouth. As the sweetness slowly spread, Fiore gazed at Chiron's gentle smile and suddenly realized she had yet to ask him an important question.
"...Say, Archer. Come to think of it, I never asked about your wish."
"A wish to entrust to the Holy Grail... To say I don't have one would be a lie."
Archer hesitated, visibly troubled. For the kind-hearted sage, he must have been worried whether voicing his wish might spark discord among them.
Having developed a certain rapport with her Servant, Fiore shook her head back and forth, dismissing his unease.
"There's no need to worry. I won't tell anyone. As your Master, shouldn't I prioritize your wish above all?"
"Thank you very much, Master. In that case, please don't dismiss my wish lightly." Chiron bowed his head slightly in embarrassment as he voiced his desire. "It's a selfish wish... I want to reclaim something I entrusted to the gods."
"Something entrusted to the gods? Could it be...?"
"Yes, it's the 'Immortality' I left with Prometheus. My wish is for him to return it to me."
When Fiore summoned Chiron, she had naturally researched his legends in detail—his controversial birth, his mentorship of heroes. Among his many tales, the most famous were the strange events leading to his becoming the constellation Sagittarius.
Caught in the conflict between the great hero Heracles and his fellow centaurs, Chiron was accidentally struck in the knee by one of Heracles' arrows, poisoned with Hydra venom.
Due to his immortality, he could not die. Yet, tormented endlessly by the poison, Chiron eventually entrusted his 'Immortality' to Zeus to transfer to Prometheus. Only then could he finally rest. Zeus, reluctant to let him go, placed him among the stars—thus, the constellation Sagittarius now hangs in the southern sky.
"It's not that I cling to immortality. But my ageless body was a gift from my parents. To discard it would mean I am no longer truly Chiron." The man spoke quietly of his lingering affection for his parents.
"But Archer, you—" Fiore caught herself, realizing she had misspoken. To continue would be an insult to him.
In legend, his father—the god of earth and agriculture, Kronos—took the form of a horse to unite with his mother, the goddess Philyra, who then gave birth to Chiron. Yet upon seeing his half-human, half-horse form, Philyra lamented and transformed into a linden tree.
In other words, Chiron's parents had never bestowed him with love from the beginning. He likely understood this better than anyone.
Facing his Master's hesitation, Chiron remained serene.
"Indeed, I was not loved by my parents. Yet I still wish to reclaim that proof of our bond, even if it's selfish. After all, regaining immortality now serves no practical purpose. But even so—"
Suddenly, Fiore understood his unspoken words.
—Even so, for Chiron, it was the faintest thread connecting him to his parents.
"Archer... My wish is undoubtedly selfish too. I only want the Holy Grail to 'heal my legs.'"
Fiore Forvedge Yggdmillennia's legs were paralyzed due to a congenital mutation in her Magic Circuits, which completely halted their function. At times, unbearable pain would strike. Though she had studied ergonomics and necromancy, mastering techniques to compensate for her legs, she could never shake her longing to walk on her own two feet.
Of course, treatment was possible. But it would require removing the Magic Circuits in her legs, which also meant she would have to abandon living as a magi.
Yet as the heir to the Forvedge family, she could not—and did not want to—give up magecraft.
So, she could only place her hopes in the miracle of the Holy Grail. To reclaim the function of her legs while preserving her Magic Circuits, to stand upon the earth as a magi… What an extravagant wish.
"I see. Because you don't want to sacrifice either, you can only rely on a miracle."
As if sensing his Master's shame, Chiron smiled and shook his head.
"The weight of abandoning magecraft, the joy of stepping on the earth with your own feet—I understand both. There's nothing to be ashamed of, nor any reason to tremble in guilt."
"Thank you, Chiron." With slightly flushed cheeks, Fiore turned her head shyly away, gazing through the glass window at the castle garden. There, a Servant clad in pure white bridal attire was handing a small flower to her dear younger brother.
A gentle breeze stirred, scattering the petals plucked by Frankenstein into the sky. Sitting obediently amidst the blossoms, the Berserker looked up, her white bridal veil fluttering slightly. Her heterochromatic eyes—one gold, one blue—shone with a childlike radiance.
Ah, it seems Caules is getting along well with his Servant too.
With a sense of relief for both herself and her brother, Fiore quietly closed her eyes, slipping into a light slumber induced by the medicine.
—By the time she awoke again, all the Masters of the Black Faction had received an urgent summons from Darnic.