Bang—!
"Ouch! Ow, ow, ow!"
Shirou collided heavily with something as he rounded the corner, tumbling straight to the floor.
"Oh, it's Arthur and Arthur's Master!"
Hearing the exceedingly familiar voice in front of him, Shirou rubbed his aching head in confusion.
Logically speaking, he shouldn't have bumped into anyone at the corner, not after all the battles he'd experienced.
By now, Shirou should've had at least some basic awareness of his surroundings.
How did I crash so easily into this pink-haired Servant?
Shirou was bewildered, and Arthur equally so.
Arthur had assumed his Master was aware someone was approaching, and thus hadn't warned Shirou beforehand. After all, Rider was their ally; there was no need to be cautious around him.
Moreover, Arthur was very familiar with Shirou's battle-honed instincts, nearly on par with a Servant's own. Even if Shirou had somehow failed to sense Rider, Rider himself should have reacted first—he was a Servant, after all.
So how on earth had the two collided so clumsily?
Arthur paused briefly, then quickly materialized from thin air, helping Shirou up from the ground.
"Rider, why are you here? Didn't you hear you were supposed to meet in the main hall?" Shirou asked as he extended his hand, helping Astolfo up as well.
"Huh? Were we supposed to gather there? I think I forgot!" Astolfo seemed to suddenly recall something, striking one palm with his fist as realization dawned.
"You…forgot?" Shirou stared in disbelief.
Could a Servant's memory really be this unreliable?
He turned helplessly toward Arthur.
"Master, I think Rider is probably the only Servant capable of something like this," Arthur answered with a politely awkward smile.
He was familiar enough with Astolfo's legend to know his most famous trait: his evaporated rationality.
"Thanks for reminding me! I'll head over right now!" Astolfo cheerfully patted Shirou's shoulder in gratitude, then hurried off toward the hall.
It seems he really did just forget about the meeting.
"Cough—! Cough—!"
Just as Shirou and Arthur were passing by the room Astolfo had exited moments earlier, they heard violent coughing coming from within.
"Saber, did you hear that?" Shirou stopped, glancing toward Arthur at his side.
"It appears Rider's absence at the gathering had another cause," Arthur nodded in affirmation. With his acute hearing, far superior to Shirou's, there was no way he'd missed such loud coughing.
Shirou stood hesitantly at the doorway, unsure whether he should open it or not. Entering without permission felt like an intrusion into someone's privacy—something a hero of justice or a noble knight wouldn't casually do.
Arthur, likewise, hesitated briefly, unsure whether to advise his Master against prying. Rider didn't seem like a malicious person who would commit sinister deeds behind closed doors.
"Cough—! Cough—!"
But two more bouts of severe coughing sounded from inside.
"We should probably take a look. With coughing that intense, whoever's inside must be seriously ill," Shirou suggested, looking toward Arthur for approval.
Arthur had already made up his mind. He calmly placed his hand on the door handle and gently turned it.
Creak…
The door slowly opened.
"Rider, you're back so soon—cough—!" On the bed sat an extremely frail-looking youth with brown hair, dressed in something resembling a hospital gown.
"Cough—! Cough—!"
Seeing two unfamiliar figures suddenly appear, the boy began coughing violently again. Panic filled his eyes as he shrank back toward the far edge of the bed.
"Don't—cough—come closer!"
Shirou and Arthur could clearly see that the boy was severely weakened, barely able to finish a single sentence.
"We mean you no harm. Why are you here in Rider's room?" Shirou asked calmly, trying to soothe the frightened boy, while silently wondering why the boy's face seemed so familiar.
"Aren't you—cough—here to capture me?" The boy stared warily at them, his eyes filled with suspicion.
"If we intended to capture you, you probably wouldn't have the chance to speak right now," Arthur gently explained, already having a vague idea of the boy's true identity.
"Are you a servant of the Yggdmillennia family?" Shirou asked, uncertain. He hadn't known the Yggdmillennia clan was capable of creating artificial humans, though he'd noticed many servants in the castle shared similar faces. Still, he hadn't felt comfortable asking Darnic directly.
But this boy strongly reminded him of the servants he'd encountered throughout the castle.
"A servant…?" The boy, sensing no hostility, hesitantly responded. "Cough—! No. I'm a homunculus created by the Yggdmillennia family."
The boy answered weakly, his body visibly trembling.
"A homunculus?" Shirou cast a questioning glance toward Arthur.
"Master, I'm not omniscient. Please don't keep looking at me for answers every time you're confused," Arthur replied calmly. Although the Holy Grail had imparted substantial knowledge to him, the specialized magecraft used by magi—especially something as specific as creating homunculi—was beyond his expertise.
Shirou felt even more puzzled. He associated artificial humans primarily with advanced technology. So magecraft can achieve something like this as well…?
"Then why are you hiding here?" Shirou returned to his original question.
"I… I want to live!" the boy replied simply yet desperately, his answer vague but profoundly earnest.
This statement only deepened Shirou and Arthur's confusion.
"What exactly are you two doing here?"
At that precise moment, an exceptionally familiar voice sounded from the doorway.
Astolfo's cheerful expression had vanished entirely, replaced by a grave seriousness as he stared at the two intruders in his room.
The atmosphere immediately grew tense.