Shishigou Kairi and "Red" Saber had left the "Black" faction's camp and resumed independent operations before noon. While they intended to cooperate with the "Black" faction going forward, a veteran mercenary's instincts told him they couldn't be fully trusted. As they would eventually clash over the Holy Grail, it was best not to become overly involved.
The current situation made a betrayal unlikely.
However, trust would inevitably erode. Working closely together would invite suspicious glances, wondering, "What are these people planning?" This would create an undercurrent of internal strife within the alliance against the "Red" faction. Since that small crack could later prove fatal, he judged it necessary to maintain an appropriate distance.
The delicious food and luxurious beds were tempting, but letting their guard down in enemy territory was out of the question.
Still, they could count the regained Command Spells and the freedom to move around Trifas as gains.
Shishigou drove the car through the stone-built streets.
Yggdmillennia clearly had money to spare, as they had lent him an unused vehicle.
While gripping the wheel, Shishigou glanced at his Servant, who was exuding an air of ennui in the passenger seat.
Saber was leaning her cheek against the window, gazing outside.
Her usual lively atmosphere had completely vanished, replaced by quietness. Frankly, it was an awkward situation.
"Are you bothered that King Arthur was summoned by that Archer?"
Resolved, Shishigou asked Saber.
King Arthur.
The legendary King of Knights said to have ruled Britain around the 6th century. His rise and fall, as a literary work, had greatly enthralled Western nations since the Middle Ages. Though his popularity waned at times, it revived around the 19th century, and now he was known worldwide.
It was no exaggeration to say his rank as a Heroic Spirit was among the highest.
If one were to summon under the 'Saber' class, his name would undoubtedly be among the first mentioned. And if summoned as a 'Saber', there was little doubt he would reign as one of the strongest Servants.
King Arthur was a genuine king who led the Knights of the Round Table and was himself a warrior worth a thousand men.
He was the miraculous king who repelled the many barbarians invading Britain and brought glory and prosperity to the declining land, and also the tragic king whose kingdom was destroyed by Mordred's rebellion, stemming from the affair between his friend Lancelot and his queen Guinevere.
"Black" Archer claimed to have participated in a Holy Grail War in Fuyuki during his lifetime and summoned King Arthur as his Saber Servant.
Moreover, he and Saber survived until the end, destroyed the corrupted Holy Grail, and brought that entire Holy Grail War to a close.
The Fifth Holy Grail War, which would never occur in this world.
'Saber' was King Arthur.
'Archer' was Gilgamesh.
'Lancer' was Cú Chulainn.
'Caster' was Medea.
'Rider' was Medusa.
'Berserker' was Heracles.
'Assassin' was Sasaki Kojirō.
Just hearing the names gave him a headache.
In the current subspecies Holy Grail War, King Arthur's participation alone would almost decide the outcome.
The price of catalysts to summon famous Servants had skyrocketed and were scattered due to conflicts, creating an environment where high-ranking Servants themselves were difficult to summon.
However, even granting that catalysts were relatively easier to obtain in the world "Black" Archer lived in, every participating Servant was of the highest caliber.
Sasaki Kojirō was undoubtedly the lowest rank among them, yet his swordsmanship was said to surpass even King Arthur's, which was astounding.
According to Archer, they faced immense hardship precisely because their enemies were so formidable. Furthermore, "Black" Archer, his Master at the time, was apparently a third-rate mage who couldn't even supply proper magical energy. It was a wonder they managed to win a Grail War gathering such top-tier Servants in that state.
At Shishigou's question, Saber nodded lightly.
"Can't say it doesn't bother me. Well, Father is a top-class hero, so it's natural he'd be summoned as a Servant."
"Huh, you're surprisingly calm about it."
"Hmph."
What Shishigou found unexpected was how subdued Saber had become after hearing Archer's story.
The feelings Saber held for her father were complex, and given her personality, he had feared she might cause a big scene influenced by Archer's account. The completely opposite atmosphere left Shishigou merely perplexed.
"But isn't it a good thing?"
"Hah?"
"It proves that your goal of becoming the world's top rank is valid."
King Arthur, while severely handicapped, survived a Grail War filled with top-tier Servants. He destroyed the Grail itself because it had become corrupted upon descent, but regardless of that judgment, the fact that he survived should be a motivating factor for Saber.
"No doubt Father could survive a Grail War. It's just..."
"Just what?"
"...I wonder what that Father intended to do with a Grail prepared by mages."
"You could've just asked Archer."
Saber didn't answer and turned her gaze back outside.
Indeed, asking Archer would reveal King Arthur's wish. But Saber deliberately hadn't asked. There were likely her own complex reasons for that.
For the rest of the day, Shishigou didn't bring up the topic of King Arthur again, sticking to communication on topics unrelated to the Grail War.
I was in an unfamiliar town.
The wind blowing through the street corners was cold. Though there was no snow, I understood it was a midwinter scene.
Many of the lined-up houses had modern designs, but for someone raised among stone-built streets like me, the cultural difference felt fresh.
The protagonist was a red-haired boy.
He seemed a bit younger than me, with some lingering childishness, but he was well-trained. I could tell even through his uniform that his muscles were balanced. Being skilled in ergonomics, I'm good at grasping such physical characteristics.
And apparently, this was Japan.
A distant foreign country I didn't know much about. In the mage world, it was known as the birthplace of the Holy Grail War. Beyond that, I only occasionally heard words like "samurai" or "geisha."
However, according to stories, Amakusa Shirou Tokisada, the mastermind behind this Grail War, was a Japanese Heroic Spirit, and the Servant I summoned, Archer, was also Japanese.
Therefore, this must be Archer's memory.
This is the town where Archer was born and raised. I think it's the parallel world's Fuyuki City.
It's said that Masters can sometimes dream of their Servant's memories through their connection.
While I could consciously cut it off, I was interested in Archer's past. Sorry, but I'll adjust my consciousness to keep watching.
My vision became clearer, but the images lagged, and occasionally the scene would switch as if a breaker had flipped channels. The talk of Archer's memories being worn down seemed correct.
The boy called "Emiya" didn't resemble Archer at first glance, but there was something familiar about his eyebrows and eyes. It felt strange to think this boy would later be spoken of as a hero.
That said, Archer's words about being a third-rate mage seemed true. Not only could he barely perform reinforcement magecraft, but he didn't even handle his Magic Circuits properly. What he was doing was merely torturing his own body, an act of madness. It wasn't even magecraft training. Even if called a suicide candidate, I could understand.
The keyword "ally of justice" that frequently appeared in the dreams.
This was probably fundamental to Archer.
Then, the scenes changed rapidly.
Being killed by a Lancer Servant at the school at night. Being saved by someone. The gem he picked up then becoming the catalyst I used to summon Archer. This immature person, abruptly dragged into the Holy Grail War, was attacked again by Lancer at his home.
Fleeing desperately, he escaped into a shed-like building on the grounds.
But it was a death trap.
In a building with no escape, he couldn't outrun Lancer.
Finally cornered, the boy still faced Lancer. Even with a Servant's killing intent directed at him, a weapon thrust before him, the boy's will didn't break.
I found that unbelievable. I couldn't understand where that iron will came from, and yet I knew he was no match for Lancer. Knowing it was futile, I still tried to intervene.
Just as I thought it was all over with the thrusting spear, a surge of magical brilliance appeared, and a single knight saved the boy.
The knight, turning back with the moonlight as a backdrop, was unbelievably beautiful.
Seeing the face so similar to "Red" Saber's, I understood.
This was King Arthur.
The Saber Servant Archer once summoned. The King of Knights asked the boy, who had fallen on his rear:
"I ask of you: are you my Master?"
That was the opening of fate.
As Archer said, the Holy Grail War was a continuous struggle. The fragmented battles I glimpsed were all extraordinary; it was unbelievable they fought battles rivaling our Great Holy Grail War within the city. The cover-up efforts must have been tremendous.
Somehow, the boy survived the Holy Grail War, destroyed the corrupted Grail, and parted ways with King Arthur.
It was an ending that left an impression of shining days.
But I came to understand that the Holy Grail War was merely the prologue of fate in his life.
Studying magecraft in England.
That's a goal anyone immersed in the mage world would aim for. There's nothing odd about it itself. The Clock Tower in London offers the best environment for studying magecraft. While he himself didn't have the power to enter the Clock Tower, he could be involved by accompanying the young lady of the Tohsaka family, who became his teacher.
It's a strange feeling to think that if the era and world were the same, I might have met him at the Mage's Association.
In London, he applied himself to magecraft studies.
However, among magi, he was far too different, and he himself had no interest in the nature of magecraft itself.
Living solely to realize being an "ally of justice," he turned his back on friends who tried to stop him and threw himself into days of battle. Running through wars with no exit in sight, striving to save as many people as possible, he gradually began making cold judgments, sacrificing the few for the many.
The horrific scenes of modern wars I'd never seen made me nauseous.
Aiming for stability by crushing the roots of evil, he eventually became known to the world as a villain. Experiencing fragments of that process, I had reached my limit.
Why did he, who sincerely wished to save people, have to go through such things? Where did the gears go wrong?
Unable to look away, I simply wished for the dream to end as I continued watching the blood-soaked days pass by.
This was truly a troublesome situation.
Gord Musik Yggdmillennia didn't even try to hide his irritation as he scratched his head.
He was in the room lined with water tanks.
It was a place that functioned as both a power plant and a transmission facility, squeezing magical energy from homunculi to supply the Servants. But now, it was a pitiful sight: the ceiling had collapsed, and rubble had crushed many of the tanks.
Due to the destruction caused by "Black" Caster, magical energy production had likely dropped by seventy percent from its peak.
Currently, as an emergency measure, all pathways were connected directly to the Masters, and this state would probably have to continue for a while.
Gord was an excellent mage, but even so, making a great hero fight at full power required some backup to see if he could endure it. The opponent was connected to the Greater Grail, granting them virtually unlimited magical energy.
Therefore, Gord's task was to somehow increase the diminished magical energy production.
Saber was kept in spiritual form outside. Given the circumstances, he had to suppress magical energy consumption. For Gord, this was infuriating. Too many unforeseen events had occurred, leaving his head spinning. Nothing was going as planned. His carefully devised water tanks were easily destroyed, and the specter of defeat loomed. Gord had to struggle. For a middle-aged man who had grown accustomed to giving up somewhere along the line, struggling desperately now seemed laughable. But if he didn't, he would truly die. Whether killed by the "Red" faction or the Mage's Association, his end wouldn't be a proper one.
Well then, he'd show them a struggle within his capabilities, Gord thought, beginning the repair work.
The water tanks themselves could be restored quickly using magecraft.
Broken desks and chairs weren't hard to fix.
The problem was securing homunculi.
Mage-type homunculi had good magical energy production efficiency but took considerable time to create. Then, they had no choice but to use alternative means. Ignoring production efficiency, they switched to creatures easier to mass-produce. The kinds of dogs and cats often used in magecraft experiments—no, having come this far, they didn't even need an animal form. They could be extremely utilitarian, stripped of waste. If they settled for lumps of meat equipped with Magic Circuits, they could prepare a reasonable number.
They wouldn't withstand prolonged battles, but they should be able to support a decisive battle.
Why must I, of all people, do such crude work?
Even Gord had his pride as an alchemist.
Must he do work with no pride whatsoever, like endlessly generating lumps of meat?
What should have been an honorable fight now felt like a denial of everything he had been until now.
Some time had passed since Fiore fell asleep.
By the time she awoke, the sun must have set. A reversed day-night cycle wasn't good for the body, she worried, while walking down the corridor. It was Ruler who stopped "Black" Archer.
"Archer... Ah, Rider, you're there too."
"No need to say it like I'm an afterthought."
"Black" Rider, who had popped his head out from around a corridor corner, approached without hiding his displeasure.
Then, Ruler looked around restlessly.
"Do you know where 'Black' Saber is?"
"He's probably guarding his Master."
"I see. I'll tell him later then."
"Do you have business with us?"
"I have a message from the homunculus boy you rescued from here."
At Ruler's words, Rider practically jumped forward.
"What!? Is he safe!? How do you know, Ruler!?"
"Wh-whoa. Calm down, I'll explain properly."
Archer grabbed the back of Rider's collar as he closed in on Ruler and pulled him back.
"Ruler. What's this about? You know him?"
"Yes."
Ruler nodded and continued.
"I met him when he had escaped outside the Millennia Fortress. He now calls himself Hohenheim and stays at a church in town."
"Hohenheim, huh. I see, named after a homunculus."
"He asked me to tell you he's doing well in town and that he's grateful."
Rider nodded vigorously and laughed.
"I see! So he's doing well! That's great! Right, Archer?"
"Indeed."
Rider laughed, looking genuinely happy.
"Hohenheim... That's a good name."
What would this innocent boy, who gained a new name, obtain in his short remaining life?
As a homunculus, he wasn't allowed to live a normal life. Not designed to live long, three years would be good. That was too short to learn anything. It was more likely he would end his life without gaining anything.
But Rider didn't mind that.
As long as he was alive and well, that was enough. If he, a dead being, could leave something in this world, nothing could be better. It might be ego, but he could only pray the boy lived his life to the fullest.
"Saber will be happy too. Yeah, let's go tell him now."
Rider's previously displeased expression transformed completely into good cheer as he headed towards Saber.
"Since I was entrusted with the message, I'll come too."
Ruler followed after him.
Archer watched their retreating backs, then turned on his heel and walked down the corridor.
Several hours later.
After sunset, Fiore awoke.
Sitting up in bed, she brushed back the hair that had fallen over her face.
She had seen Archer's memories. Somewhere in her heart, she thought a hero's memories would be splendid, but she couldn't expect that from a modern man. Indeed, his life was worthy of being called a hero's. He sacrificed himself for others, asking for nothing, fighting endlessly.
"I should have just seen the Grail War memories."
His Grail War, where great heroes gathered.
There was no other chance to see heroes spoken of in myth. He had dealt with famed heroes while still a high school student; that must have been a significant experience.
"Archer. Are you there?"
A few seconds after she called, a presence from outside the room moved inside. Materialized, Archer approached Fiore with his usual demeanor.
"You're awake, Fiore."
"Yes, it seems I slept quite long. Did anything important happen while I was out?"
"No. No major changes. It's not a bad idea to rest now and conserve your energy."
She had been worried about trouble occurring while she slept, but it seemed there was none.
"By the way, did you sleep well?"
"Why do you ask?"
"You just don't look too well."
Was it showing on her face?
Fiore lightly touched her cheek, looking surprised.
Her bad dreams were because she saw Archer's memories.
"Archer. In your lifetime, you participated in a Holy Grail War, correct?"
"As I said before. I even explained it roughly to 'Red' Saber."
Fiore had been present, so she knew what explanation Archer gave. It mainly focused on the exploits of his Saber Servant, King Arthur. Having dreamed Archer's dream, Fiore had glimpsed, albeit fragmentarily, the flow of the Grail War he was involved in.
And she understood there was a contradiction in his explanation.
"But regarding 'Archer,' you gave a false explanation, saying it was Gilgamesh."
Archer had stated that the 'Archer' Servant in the Fuyuki Holy Grail War he experienced was the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh. However, the 'Archer' that appeared in Fiore's dream was a different Servant from Gilgamesh.
"I see. You saw my memory."
"Yes."
"Well, I couldn't keep it hidden forever, but it's a strange story."
"Indeed, I think so too."
His past self meeting his future self. How many people in history have experienced such a thing? At least in Fiore's memory, she had never heard such a tale.
"Once you become a Heroic Spirit, you're not bound by time. Being summoned to the future is more common, but being summoned to the past, like me, also happens. If you were involved in a Grail War in life, you might have met. Honestly, it was hard to watch."
"Why is that?"
"You wouldn't want to willingly converse with your past self, who was nothing but immature, would you? Even you wouldn't feel good about being told to directly face your childhood failures and regrets again."
"...Yes. That's true."
It was like rereading an old diary. Except the diary talks and acts.
"So, Fiore. How much did you see this time?"
At Archer's question, Fiore couldn't answer immediately.
The gruesome scenes of the battlefield revived in her mind.
"I'm sorry."
Fiore apologized.
"I caught a glimpse of your days of battle."
"I see."
Archer sighed.
When connected to a Master, having one's past seen was natural. He couldn't blame her.
"Archer. You said your wish is the permanent peace of the world. Your life was spent pursuing that, right? How does Amakusa Shirou's wish differ from yours?"
"It's simple. He denies the past and seeks to erase the future, while I believe we should aim for the future based on the past. In words, 'world peace' is the same, but the process differs greatly. In short, he has despaired of humanity, while I am not that negative about humanity."
Feeling a sense of discord with Archer's words, Fiore pressed further.
"You don't hold any resentment?"
"Resentment towards what?"
"The various factors that didn't reward your efforts, the friends who betrayed you, humanity that didn't change... I imagine there are many."
"I don't have any of that. Most of my wishes were granted in life, and being betrayed was merely a result of my own choices. Therefore, there's no one I should resent."
"Haven't you been told you have a detrimental personality?"
"Well, who knows. There's a Japanese proverb: 'The soul of a three-year-old lasts till a hundred.' This is just my nature. It didn't change even after death. Or maybe if there was someone to take my frustration out on, it might be different, but there isn't."
Shrugging his shoulders, Archer showed a wry smile that made it hard to tell how serious he was.
"Well, this is fine as it is. Having declared my stance to him, I've let go of various things."
"Is that so? Then it's good."
Fiore smiled and fell silent.
Looking at her, Archer suddenly posed a question.
"What did you think?"
"Huh?"
"You saw my dream, right? What did you think seeing that world?"
Archer's memories contained a world unknown to Fiore.
There were civil wars stemming from ethnic conflicts, and clashes between nations over territorial disputes. They were all scenes far from Fiore's daily life, yet commonplace somewhere in the world even now.
Archer's memories were different from the past heroic tales of other heroes. They were events of the present, or the future. There was a reality there that could never be understood merely through accumulated news reports.
Maddened killings of a completely different nature from mages killing each other. There was no honor or pride, only a binary structure of exploiters and exploited, which sometimes reversed.
Archer didn't force an answer from the silent Fiore.
"As one who traversed those battlefields, I'd be happy if you felt something for them."
Saying only that, Archer left the room. Fiore was about to call out to his retreating back.
"Felt something..."
She stopped herself from continuing, thinking it shouldn't be something so vague and light.
If one were a mage, one should first suspect that even within such conflicts, there might be possibilities leading to the Root. Like necromancers visiting battlefields to collect corpses, one must seek the Root using that as nourishment.
Then, one shouldn't be moved by each death of the people in the dream.
Because, for a mage, that is an irrational way of thinking.
Despite just waking up, she felt extremely tired.
Fiore let out a sigh from the depths of her lungs and leaned back onto the bed again.