After bidding farewell to his worthy opponent, Siegfried walked alone on his way back to his room.
Karna had called him out to make a request.
"Please, do not tell this news to your Master."
"Master?" Siegfried instinctively thought of Gordes, but upon realizing the implication, he was startled. "You... found out?"
"You don't belong to either the Red or Black faction, but stand with Shakespeare, don't you?" Karna countered.
"Yes... So I'm sorry, but I have an obligation to report." Siegfried lowered his gaze, only to see the Little Sun shake his head and say:
"I don't know the circumstances that led you to join them, but my spear once clashed with your sword. That was not a battlefield that could be answered by reckless or treacherous men. Therefore, I don't believe you would pledge loyalty because of deceit."
Ah, that truly was an exhilarating duel.
Recalling the clash of spear and sword that made his heart tremble, Siegfried's tense eyes relaxed slightly as he fell into thought.
Karna was right—he had been forced into this situation. Although Sakatsuki hadn't treated him poorly, he still found it hard to feel a sense of belonging.
Moreover, the Dragon Slayer of the Netherlands didn't fully believe the explanation Sakatsuki had given them.
Seize the Holy Grail—that was what Sakatsuki had said.
But what about his wish? What exactly was his wish? Did Reika Rikudou and the King of Knights by his side know?
If even they didn't know, Siegfried would surely be astonished.
But that was the truth. After summoning Artoria, Sakatsuki buried his true purpose deep in his heart, because he knew that once spoken, it would inevitably pit him against all the heroes.
—Only one person knew: Shakespeare.
This wasn't surprising, because Sakatsuki understood the one thing that set Shakespeare apart from the other heroes—he sought only stories. Only a more compelling tale could make him change his tune.
For over sixty years, wandering alone—the Far Eastern saint who pursued the Holy Grail to forgive humanity, and the assassin from another world who sought to protect the world by destroying it. Which of their stories captivated him more?
If Shakespeare heard this, he would surely clamor, "I have not abandoned either, merely sought a more fitting audience seat."
After countless thoughts, Siegfried ultimately agreed to Karna's request.
"I promise you."
"Thank you."
After watching the Dragon Slayer leave, Karna turned around to find the figure of the Red Assassin faintly materializing. It wasn't her true body, but a phantom projection Semiramis had cast in the courtyard.
"What do you need, Empress?"
"I'll be direct—though the true culprit hasn't been found, it's been proven that neither I nor the priest were responsible. What do you say? Will you, Rider, Archer, and Sakatsuki return?"
Though she invited all four who had left, the Empress's gaze remained fixed on Karna. In her eyes, he was likely the only one willing to rejoin the Red faction.
Achilles and Atalanta were easy to understand—they were typical heroes, those foolish warriors who galloped across battlefields displaying unbearable strength and skill while upholding lofty ideals of honor and dignity.
As for Sakatsuki, the scheming Empress, there was something peculiar about her. It wasn't just a resonance of certain traits, but more like the repulsion between two tigers that cannot share the same mountain.
But—Karna stood apart from them in some way. Despite his flawless origins and experiences, he was distinctly different from the many heroes Semiramis had known.
As long as certain boundaries weren't crossed, this Servant was remarkably easy to talk to—
"I must refuse, Red Assassin."
"Wha—?!" The Empress's face twisted with humiliation as she coldly spat, "Karna, you must realize your current relationship with the Black faction isn't a true contract. The leyline of the Yggdmillennia can only sustain your manifestation—it can't support intense combat. Meanwhile, we possess the Holy Grail!"
Facing Semiramis's challenge, Karna showed no trace of displeasure. Instead, he nodded with solemn sincerity:
"Your words hold truth, Empress. The only proper Master-Servant bond in this faction is yours. Your Master uses you, and you use your Master. Yet within that exists mutual devotion and trust. You cannot betray him—at most, you might entertain the thought in your heart."
"..."
Semiramis found herself speechless before the Little Sun's words.
Had this Heroic Spirit just pointed out—with brutal directness—something buried in the deepest recesses of her being?
"...What... did you just... say?"
"Nothing more than this: you cannot betray your Master, and he places complete trust in you. I was merely praising your ideal Master-Servant relationship."
The Empress glared fiercely at Karna, who looked back with innocent confusion. He had indeed been praising her—at least, that was his genuine perception. But the way he phrased it—
"You're... spouting nonsense."
"I speak no nonsense. Yours is the ideal state for Master and Servant. Your Master likely wouldn't betray you either. Not because you'd exact revenge, but because he understands that not betraying you is the most crucial and prudent course."
—He would not betray her.
The words carried an ineffable nobility.
Ignoring the Empress's turmoil, Karna continued:
"I won't ask for your understanding on this matter, but you could at least accept my stance, Assassin. The strong preying on the weak is nature's law—yet we are not beasts. Beyond instinct, we should cloak ourselves in human ethics."
"When we faced annihilation, it was Black Archer and Yggdmillennia's leyline that saved us. These very ethics prevent my return—for this is how I am constituted."
Karna declared:
"I shall protect the Black faction until I deem my duty fulfilled. That is all I can say."
The phantom image swayed slightly, as if mirroring the shock reverberating through its true form.
"...Is that so? Very well, do as you please."
It was clear the Empress's thoughts were no longer on Karna, who merely nodded calmly in response:
"You have my gratitude."
Just as the phantom was about to fade away, it turned back to ask Karna one final question:
"—Tell me, do you truly believe I wouldn't betray you?"
"Of course, Empress. Surely you're not the type of obsessive who'd kill the object of your affections?"
Hearing this, the phantom displayed visible fluster before vanishing. On her throne, the Empress opened her eyes—first with bewilderment, then with extreme irritation.
"Impossible for me to betray? I am the renowned Semiramis!"
How absurd. Her lack of betrayal was purely due to aligned objectives—he sought humanity's salvation while she desired to rule over those saved beings.
Once they cleanly settled matters with the others, betraying her Master afterward remained entirely possible.
That Lancer was ridiculous. Of course she could betray—it simply wasn't necessary yet. She could demonstrate it immediately if she wished, erasing the man's will, seizing his authority, and reducing him to a puppet with ease.
She imagined his expression upon betrayal. First stunned like a fool, then twisting into rage as comprehension dawned, followed inevitably by anguished cries—
"...No, that's wrong. He wouldn't display sorrow like that."
At most, he'd widen his eyes in surprise. Then—he'd surely smile. Sixty years of effort wasted in vain.
Yet he'd feel no regret. Amakusa Shirou Tokisada had abandoned all remorse four centuries prior, the moment he vowed to forgive and save everything.
He wouldn't rage at betrayal—merely adapt and address it.
A pitiful existence. Betrayal always came with mockery, his hard work easily overturned. But no matter how often repeated, the boy would silently start anew.
Even if betrayed, the betrayed would harbor no resentment. Having long cast despair aside, the boy would simply discard the betrayer and march forward.
Assassins with daggers poised at his back could never catch him, forever left watching his retreating figure.
No violent emotions like grief or regret arose—only a wisp of vague loneliness, thin as cirrus clouds, lingered in Assassin's heart.
While the Red Faction busily advanced toward some climax, Kairi Sisigou—Master of Red Saber—found himself gripped by unprecedented anxiety.
"I'm telling you—I'm right!"
His booming voice echoed through the streets as the burly man, ignoring puzzled passersby and sweating profusely, projected his frantic words through communication magecraft toward the distant Fortress of Millennia.
"My Servant, Mordred, has gone missing!"