[Sakatsuki, Lord Sakatsuki!]
The thread of causality connecting him to his Servant trembled. Sensing Artoria's silent yet resolute will, Sakatsuki opened his eyes from meditation and connected the causal line.
"What is it, Ruler?"
Artoria noticed the change in his address. Her heart tightened as she suppressed her inner turmoil: "The homunculus is on the verge of death. The situation is reaching an irreversible point, Master. Where are you now?"
"Where I need to be," Sakatsuki replied. "Close enough to you all. I can save him anytime I wish."
"Then why haven't you appeared yet? Are you just going to watch him die?!"
"The timing isn't right. I told you—only by acting at the last moment can we maximize the gains."
Even under Artoria's accusatory tone, Sakatsuki remained unshaken. He was like a precision scale, weighing only 'gain' and 'loss,' with no room for sentimentality.
"Be angry if you must. Blame me all you want—but only after this is over, only after my intervention fails. Ruler, I hope you understand which matters more: a stranger's life or your Master's plans."
After a pause, Sakatsuki added one final explanation.
"Besides, sacrificing the homunculus was never part of the plan."
There was no room for jokes or compromise. This was Lord Sakatsuki in earnest—no, this was Sakatsuki the Assassin...
A realization dawned on Artoria. She bit her lip, about to speak, when Astolfo's cry cut through first.
"You! Stay with me, answer me!"
The pink-haired knight with a black ribbon sprinted toward the homunculus. Artoria froze, instinctively looking at Siegfried—only to find that not just him, but even her own grip had loosened at some point, releasing the supposedly immobilized Astolfo.
"Hey... hey!"
Freed from restraint, the black-clad Rider ignored Gordes, who stood panting like a wild dog nearby, and knelt before the homunculus, clutching his hand tightly.
But it was already too late. The homunculus's heart was fading. Even Astolfo, the famed paladin and adventurer, had to surrender before death's inevitability.
For this knight whose reason had evaporated, the homunculus's death struck him harder than anything.
His promise to the homunculus was broken. His dignity and pride as a hero were trampled. The homunculus died in his arms, and despite possessing the mightiest grimoire and the most miraculous lance, Astolfo remained powerless to change fate.
Cornered, he turned his gaze—filled with resentment and condemnation—toward his two companions:
"Bastards... too late... it's too late! Why didn't you act sooner?! We could've stopped him! Before that idiot (Master) did anything!"
Siegfried remained silent, like an unchanging reef through the ages. Yet Artoria was tormented by the paladin's condemnation, her face beneath the black cloak shrouded in remorse and self-reproach.
She was the King of Knights, the radiant Holy King, a wise monarch whose legend endured even after her kingdom's fall.
How could she, who had drawn her sword to protect her people, bear to watch a life wither away before her eyes—
In the end, the last thread of Artoria's restraint as a Servant snapped.
[Lord Sakatsuki! I shall deploy Avalon!]
This was not the tone of a Servant, but the natural command of a monarch to her knight.
Sakatsuki, standing not far away, remained silent—not out of shock, but because he had already sighed in resignation within his heart.
What his original self would do, he (Assassin) neither knew nor cared to ponder. But now, he (Assassin) was the one experiencing this Holy Grail War.
To the Black Faction, he was undoubtedly a member of the Red. To earn the deepest gratitude from Black Rider and Saber, he had to make his entrance at the most critical moment.
Just like in Pokémon, legendary and mythical creatures couldn't be captured unless they were on the brink of collapse.
So he had to wait. Wait until Siegfried steeled his resolve, until he was about to sacrifice his heart to save the homunculus—that was when Sakatsuki would make his move.
Avalon, an EX-rank Noble Phantasm and a rare defensive-type treasure, should never be wasted on a mere homunculus. Yet he knew Artoria's nature—once she made a decision, she would never waver.
Thus, his course of action was already set.
Perched on a tree branch, the young man's eyes darkened as he slowly raised his arm.
"By the power of my Command Spell—"
!!!
Even if only half-activated, Artoria could feel her hair standing on end, as though the Sword of Damocles hung above her head.
When a Command Spell was invoked, a Servant no longer lived by their own will.
Yet she had never imagined that Sakatsuki would go so far as to use a Command Spell to oppose her decision!
"Lord Sakatsuki!"
The thread of causality reconnected, but before Artoria could voice her protest, Sakatsuki's cold words cut her off.
"Do not force me to use a Command Spell, my king. I do not wish for our trust to fracture over a single homunculus."
His words carried unshakable resolve. Though Artoria still burned with frustration, she could only stand in place, reduced to a silent spectator.
Yet in her heart, the King of Knights was overwhelmed with emotion.
This was no longer about the homunculus. At its core, something about Sakatsuki (Assassin) was fundamentally wrong.
Had his original self been here, Lord Sakatsuki would never have stopped her.
No—that young man would have taken her feelings into account, embracing her willfulness without hesitation.
Beneath her black cloak, Artoria closed her eyes, her emotions in turmoil.
When had she and Lord Sakatsuki forged a bond of trust so deep that even without her Instinct, she could reach this conclusion?
And now... how should she face this Assassin, whose nature was so utterly different?
The girl knocked on the door of her heart, but found only emptiness within, with no answers to be had. She wanted to seek help from Reika, far away in the Fortress of Millennia, but for some reason, even Reika refused her communication request.
Beside Artoria, the homunculus's breathing had grown faint to the point of being imperceptible; Astolfo cradled him, whispering "I'm sorry"; Gordes remained trapped in the terror of death; and the black Saber, Siegfried, slowly closed his eyes.
Darkness filled his vision, and familiar cries seemed to transcend time, transporting the dragon-slayer back to days long past.
————
Once, there was a hero. A hero who slew dragons.
He was the prince of the Netherlands, brave and noble. All praised his majesty and extolled his glory. Men rushed to pledge themselves to his banner, while women offered him their unwavering love.
And the hero answered their expectations.
The hero rarely rested, pursuing battle ceaselessly. No—it wasn't that he sought out battle himself, but rather that the conflicts of the world refused to leave him and his immense power alone.
He possessed an invincible sword and an invincible body. Thus, it was only natural that countless desires pursued him. Yet, he was too perfect as a hero—so much so that it became a flaw. He granted every request. If someone knelt before him and begged, he would surely grasp their pleading hands.
If someone asked him to slay an evil dragon, he would go through fire and water to do so. If someone wished for a peerless beauty to fall into their arms, he would rack his brains to make it happen. He never considered good or evil...
Living like a wish-granting machine, he had always believed this was the way to be. Good and evil, in the end, were merely matters of perspective.
When corrupt officials came to him, lamenting the deaths of their family members, he would avenge them.
Yet when villagers struggling on the brink of poverty failed to ask for his help, he turned a blind eye.
Because if he didn't, there would be no end to it. It was impossible to embrace the entire world in his arms. So he only responded to those who sought him out—this was the sole rule he set for himself.
His actions were not based on his own will; his battles were not fought according to his own preferences.
"Lord Siegfried, I want to claim that mountain."
"Please, Lord Siegfried, punish the bandits living in those hills."
"I beg you to defeat that monster."
"I implore you, Lord Siegfried, I desire that beautiful woman."
"I wish to rule that country."
"Lord Siegfried, I beg you..."
"I beg you I beg you I beg you I beg you I beg you I beg you I beg you I beg you I beg you I beg you I beg you I beg you I beg you I beg you I beg you"
"Very well."
That was the blood accumulated on his sword, the karma piled upon his body.
Until one day, the hero suddenly realized he had no idea what he himself desired. No hopes, no dreams. He couldn't even picture the future in his mind. Everyone saw the hero as the embodiment of ideals, yet the hero himself had lost sight of the ideal.
—What a deception. Like gears that refused to mesh, if he granted every wish, of course he would lose sight of his own.
He was nothing more than a "Holy Grail" bearing the name of a hero.
That's fine, the hero thought. After all, receiving gratitude from others wasn't a bad thing. When someone earnestly pleads with you, it's only natural for one's heart to waver.
Thus, the hero stubbornly persisted in his ways—until he eventually achieved the great feat of slaying the evil dragon. Yet somewhere in his heart remained a void. Within that void lay nothing, only boundless darkness of emptiness.
Even though he loved people.
Even though he loved the world.
Only this emptiness could never be filled, no matter what, until death.
And now, the dragon slayer granted a second fleeting life once again stood before two paths.
This time, he finally took a step forward—toward a completely different road.
"Master, can you heal that homunculus?"
————
"Saber... what did you just say?"
Looking at the expressionless Saber, Gordes momentarily thought he was hallucinating—until Siegfried spoke again:
"I wish for you to heal the homunculus... and set him free."
"What kind of joke is this...?"
Gordes' voice trembled. He was so furious he seemed to have forgotten how to make expressions. Even so, he took a deep breath and spoke with the authoritative tone of a Master:
"Don't give me opinions about some useless familiar! Just shut up and follow orders—"
Faced with his Master's spittle-flying rage, Siegfried—standing nearly a head taller—merely took one calm step forward, forcing Gordes to swallow the rest of his words.
"You have no intention of saving him?"
"So shut the hell—"
The next instant, Gordes lost consciousness. Saber's fist struck hard against his abdomen, and as Gordes collapsed unconscious, Saber didn't spare him a glance, turning away instead.
Ahead in his line of sight was Rider, holding the homunculus' hand.
"Saber...?"
Ignoring Rider's call, he approached the two while discarding the armor and sword woven from magical energy. He even removed his clothing, exposing his upper body.
Then, he knelt before the dying homunculus.
"What are you doing... Saber."
Though she already guessed what was coming, Artoria couldn't suppress the tremor in her voice as she asked quietly.
Faced with Artoria's question, Siegfried bowed his head in sorrow:
"I've taken the wrong path again. I wanted to abandon someone before my eyes who made no wish of me; once more, I failed to think for myself and tried to leave the choice to others."
—Just like back then, just like believing the battle would end there.
He always made the wrong choice at crucial moments. Clinging stubbornly to his own desires, turning a blind eye to the weak crouching before him.
Because they didn't ask for help, he turned a deaf ear to their silent pleas.
How ugly. How wicked. That was absolutely not—what he sought to become.
Given a second life, did he intend to repeat the same mistakes?
No, that wasn't his wish.
[I want to become a Hero of Justice.]
The hero finally remembered his own wish—one he'd never spoken of to anyone out of shame.
And if he were a hero of justice, what could he do now to save the life he'd personally condemned?
The answer had long been predetermined.
"Though this may burden him with an unwarranted fate, even so, there is something I must offer him."
So spoke Siegfried, the great dragon-slaying hero, as he unhesitatingly reached toward his own chest.
"Wait!" Artoria, realizing his intent, immediately cried out. "Please wait—don't do this!"
Simultaneous with the Black Assassin's shout came the sudden, unmistakable presence of enemy Servants flooding the surrounding forest.
"Enemies!" Rider wiped away his tears, scanning the surroundings warily. Siegfried halted his movement at once, his armor and greatsword materializing once more. Silver hair whirling, the dragon-slayer rose to his feet, standing ready for battle.
The homunculus's life hung by a thread, but if Siegfried proceeded heedlessly to offer his heart now, the enemy Servants' attacks might strike the fragile homunculus and kill him anew!
Therefore—before the homunculus perished completely, the enemy Servants had to be found!
Amid the clatter of armor, the Black Assassin, Artoria, rushed forward. Taking Astolfo's place, she cradled the homunculus, her palm pressed discreetly against his back as she channeled the essence of Avalon into him.
"Leave him to me. I'll stabilize his condition for now."
"Ah... right." Though puzzled by Assassin's sudden change in attitude and the nature of her ability, Astolfo chose to trust her. "Then I'll leave it to you—thanks!"
"No need for thanks. This is my duty."
Artoria nodded, shielding the homunculus while unable to resist glancing toward Sakatsuki.
[You are permitted to use Avalon covertly. Do not let him die. Something has happened with Reika Rikudou—I need time to handle it.]
That had been the telepathic message Sakatsuki urgently sent her when Siegfried attempted to tear out his heart.
Something happened to Reika? No wonder there was no response earlier... But what exactly occurred?
"Ah—"
Just then, Astolfo let out a soft gasp.
Artoria and Siegfried instinctively turned—and their pupils constricted sharply.
Beneath their disbelieving gazes, the Black Rider, Astolfo, was dissolving into golden particles at his feet—not spiritualization, but outright vanishing. The path maintaining his manifestation was disappearing, releasing him from the world as he faded away.
No heart had been torn out; his spiritual core remained utterly intact. In other words, before Siegfried could commit his act of self-sacrifice, Astolfo had begun to vanish without warning!
This was an anomaly never seen in the original narrative, nor was it part of Sakatsuki's plans!
What was happening? Could it be connected to Reika's crisis?!
Artoria suppressed the urge to trace the threads of causality and demand answers from Sakatsuki. Meanwhile, Sakatsuki, concealed nearby, wore an equally grave expression as he communicated with Reika through a transmission spell.
"You're saying... Celenike is dead?"