Chapter 15: Rider Charges Forth

She stepped inside the house for the time being. Entering through the Genkan, she stepped up onto the raised floor—she vaguely recalled that in this country, one was supposed to remove their shoes indoors, but she ended up going in as she was. It didn't truly matter.

In the short hallway between the entrance and the living room, Irisviel stood still. There was no way the fatigue in her legs would vanish in such a short time, even with the use of Magecraft. If she sat down, it would surely be easier. Yet, she remained standing as if out of pure stubbornness. She stood there, gazing at something that was neither the interior of the house nor the winter night sky.

She turned her gaze to the side. It was an ordinary, unremarkable Bukeyashiki (samurai-style residence). She didn't know what "ordinary" truly meant in this country, but Kiritsugu had called it ordinary, so it likely was. Inside this ordinary house, there was nothing extraordinary—in fact, there was nothing at all. Naturally. Since they never intended to stay here long, there were no heavy belongings. Even the bare essentials were packed in one place, currently out of sight. In short, it was a bleak, desolate landscape—roughly cleaned, slightly tidy, but stripped of all life.

Even a place like this... a place without a single trace of daily life, was the place Kiritsugu would return to. The only sanctuary left for a man who had lost everyone else. The place Irisviel would return to, even at the cost of leaving her daughter behind.

"Well then! Before Kiritsugu gets back, maybe I’ll whip up some dinner!"

She spoke grandly of something she couldn't actually do. Beyond her lack of skill, there weren't even any ingredients. No shops nearby would be open at this hour.

She had raised her hand with forced cheer, but having forgotten how to lower it, she stood there with her arm up and her expression frozen in a mask suited for her words, lost on what to do next.

What was the point of acting like this?

To welcome Kiritsugu home? Should she draw a bath in the Japanese fashion? Should she prepare an evening drink? Perhaps if she greeted him with a smile, it would feel real. She looked around, wondering if she could find something—anything—to make the house feel lived-in. Whether it was meaningful or not, the search would at least kill time while she worried.

But what would that change? Am I supposed to just do these useless things and wait?

The husband who went out to gamble with his life. The wife who swore to stake her life alongside him. And Illyasviel, left behind all alone.

Her arm dropped of its own accord. She tried to maintain her usual expression, but it crumbled into an indescribable, pathetic mess. Her face felt hot. Perhaps she was crying. Even so, she refused to look down. If she did, it would feel like admitting defeat, like she would become unable to move, and that was unforgivable. It was meaningless spiritualism. A pointless assertion. Yet, for now, she believed it had meaning.

Here I was, loitering in a place like this just as Kiritsugu told me to. I had no idea what I wanted to do, or even what I could do.

She clenched her fists. Strength still flowed into her arms. She felt none of the lethargy she had experienced when Caster was defeated. Instead, her heart began to ache, but she didn't care. At the very least, she still had strength.

(Why... am I...)

She didn't care about the pain in her chest. Her heavy legs required no consideration. Perhaps even the Magical Energy she had left didn't matter.

In the end, the only thing that moves the body is the Will.

(How could I... give up so easily!)

She screamed within her heart.

She should have clung to him more. She should have followed him. If she had, she could have at least been his shield. That would be far better than simply waiting here.

She had decided. The life of Irisviel von Einzbern was dedicated to Kiritsugu Emiya.

No matter how deeply she overthought it, there were only two choices. Logic was unnecessary. Considerations and contemplations—all of that could catch up later. What was needed now was the answer to a single choice. In short: to go, or not to go.

She took a step forward. Regardless of being indoors, she kicked off the floor with power. Leaping directly from the hallway into the night, she began to sprint at full speed toward the Fuyuki City Public Hall. Her legs began to push past their limits, and her heart rate skyrocketed. Both might exceed their breaking point and become useless forever, but she didn't care. She didn't have the luxury of choosing a path; she ignored the crowds and ran flat out. She might become an urban legend—the foreigner sprinting through the city in the dead of night. If that was what it took to catch up, so be it.

What did she want to do? What could she do? She still had no answer. There was no guarantee she wouldn't be a burden. Even so, if she didn't move, nothing would change!

The things the soft-spoken Kiritsugu didn't say with words, but said through his way of life: A person's life only becomes what it is meant to be. And that "outcome" is always the accumulation of someone else's actions. An absurdity created by a massive, continuous accumulation. If someone was to do something about it, it had to be someone.

And if a "someone" was needed, then he would be the one to do it. No matter what happened to him.

That was how he was. Always, and even now. If so, then as his wife, Irisviel had to be the same.

(I'm sorry, Illya.)

The image that surfaced in her mind was the smiling face of her beloved daughter, surrounded by snow.

Thinking of her daughter, perhaps she should have lived at any cost. But in the end, she couldn't. The life Kiritsugu had shown her was not like that.

A life for the sake of someone else. A way of living without a "self." Actions without reward. Perhaps it was a vice, or perhaps it was foolish. Some might show anger, others might point and laugh. However, Kiritsugu had always fought for the sake of such ordinary humans. Even if everyone else denied him, she alone would continue to affirm him.

A foolish, pathetic way of life. A life full of contradictions and flaws. Even so, she didn't think for a second that it didn't shine.

She couldn't live like him, nor did she intend to. She just wanted to be closer to him than anyone else. It was merely the selfishness of a single woman. And so, that was enough.

She drew closer to that place where human despair and malice gathered. The place where Kiritsugu was, was always there.

---

It was darkness.

Or, one could call it void. At any rate, it was the first thing that came to mind when looking around.

I wondered briefly if darkness could exist without light. Well, I don't know the common sense or scientific consensus on that, but it likely exists. Darkness can be complete within itself. Conversely, what about light? I had a feeling that light cannot exist without darkness. More accurately, it cannot establish itself. A terribly unequal, yet reciprocal relationship.

Being in such a place, I felt like even if I reached out, I wouldn't touch anything. In reality, of course, that wasn't the case. There was a certain warmth in my arms, and if I reached out a bit, I would touch the unpleasantly writhing insects. No, in the first place, I was surrounded by Noble Phantasms, and there wasn't even enough space to move my body properly.

The insects, whose numbers I reduced with attacks from Noble Phantasms, likely increased faster than I could kill them. Defensive Noble Phantasms that were retracted once their Magical Energy was sucked dry. Even if deployment was instantaneous, it took time to re-infuse them with mana. Unlike weapons, where you could just blow things away and be done with it, the "turnover rate" was poor. I began to worry that I might run out of usable Noble Phantasms before my Magical Energy hit zero.

No matter how many insects I blew away, I couldn't see the light. It wasn't just a matter of it being night. The moment an area was cleared, it was immediately filled with insects. Without leaving a single gap.

Total darkness. It seemed that even if one of the five senses was taken away, nothing would change. I thought of such things, mixing in a bit of bravado.

In fact, even if you are aware of the impending doom, once a balance is struck, a bit of leeway is born. Even if it's an unequal relationship of equals, like light and darkness.

Every direction except beneath my feet was enveloped in dense Magical Energy and the presence of a Servant (Avenger). Because of this, I couldn't even tell what was happening outside. Additionally, to protect Sakura from the insects that occasionally bypassed the defenses, I might have had leeway, but I wasn't "free." While my body was rarely being gouged, I could do nothing but let things happen as they were.

My left arm was nearly torn off at the shoulder. That was because I had used my shoulder to deflect everything falling toward Sakura from above. It hurt terribly at first, but now it was starting to go numb. I could feel the pain, but not enough to stop me from thinking. That was likely dangerous in its own right... but thinking about it here felt pointless.

It wasn't like I knew if there was a "later" to worry about anyway.

Regardless, it was dark. Black, the back of my eyelids—call it what you want. The mental capacity I usually spent on visual processing was now redirected to thought. You'd think that at a time like this, it would be redirected to concentration, but no.

I was the type who couldn't sleep well. Specifically, the type who starts thinking about unnecessary things the moment they try to sleep. That was exactly the situation now.

When you aren't consciously thinking, what mostly floats up are things that have no meaning in the current situation. If something that just happens to come to mind turns out to be useful, then surely that's something to be proud of.

In the darkness, it floated up faintly, like a mirage illuminated by moonlight. A scene from long ago, from the past.

Feeling fed up, I brushed off the insects with the dagger in my hand and stabbed them to death. The creature dissolved into a sludge-like substance that greedily drained the dagger's Magical Energy. Almost the moment the cursed mud spilled onto the ground, the dagger was desummoned. I pulled out a new weapon and braced myself. Since I couldn't see, I didn't know exactly what it was, but as long as it could pierce something, it was fine. The thing I just had was only called a "dagger" for convenience; I didn't even know if it had an actual blade.

The thing that came to mind was certainly not something I wanted to see. I wondered for a moment which was better: that, or the sensation of killing insects.

My name is Gilgamesh. Even if I am not the person who wove the legend, as long as this body is his, I have no choice but to claim that name. Even if I claimed to be someone else, I couldn't become that person, let alone return to how I was before.

If I could go back, how much easier would it be?

I am not a Hero. Naturally. I am not a Heroic Spirit either. This, too, is natural. I'm just an ordinary human, a lowly existence who accidentally obtained power far beyond my station.

Like anyone else, I lived a normal life. Obviously, I had a family and friends. I went to school because it was somehow necessary for the future, then moved on to higher education, studied reasonably well, and obtained a reasonable academic background. In the future, I would likely get a job, just as ninety percent of the population does. I might change jobs a few times, or I might stay at the same company forever. The only notable events would be that, and then marriage and children. Naturally, reaching that point would involve very personal sentiments. But that's all—nothing to brag about, just memories and dreams.

Everyone fantasizes about dreams. Not something concrete, not even a guideline. For example, wanting to be a hero, or a princess. Even wanting to be a doctor or a pilot—if you don't even look into the concrete path, the level of fantasy remains the same. Until you get there, or after you get there, you'll fantasize about yourself overcoming seven trials and eight tribulations. And for the most part, no one actually wants their dreams to become reality.

Who would seek a life of dramatic ups and downs?

With age comes an understanding of the value of the word "stability." A stable job, a stable salary, a stable family. That is to say, peace. Drama in life isn't something that's fun to have. Especially in this day and age, you can get as much of other people's drama as you want as entertainment. In fiction—you can be satisfied by just watching from the other side, and you must be satisfied with that.

I don't want suffering; I only want ease. A sense of accomplishment is only possible when built on a foundation of safety and stability. "Following the crowd" means everyone is the same—being "ordinary." Even if a problem arises, the solutions are already laid out. Even solving problems is a matter of following the crowd.

To abandon the ordinary and shoulder hardship or suffering of one's own accord, or to be forced to shoulder it—either way, what is always born is regret. And the end result of those paths is a binary choice. In short: dying in a ditch, or becoming a Hero.

King Iskandar could not achieve total conquest.

King Arthur could not save her country.

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne could not fulfill his loyalty.

Hassan-i-Sabbah could not become a perfect individual.

Sir Lancelot could not cast aside his anguish.

Gilles de Rais cursed the absurdity of the world.

There is no one who is not a Hero, and there is no one who does not carry regrets. However, they were heroes who bet their lives for someone or something.

I cannot be like that.

My own life is the most important. I might spare some effort for someone else's sake. However, that is only within the scope of my surplus, within the range that doesn't disturb my peace. If I am at fault, I can think of fulfilling my duty even if there is some danger. Otherwise, I wouldn't even look—I'm just a commoner. It might be cowardly. However, there is no ordinary person who can curse that cowardice. Because that person would no longer be an ordinary person, but a Hero.

And yet, why am I going this far to protect Sakura?

She was supposed to be a convenient existence. A doll-like girl who would mechanically supply me with Magical Energy. I made her my Master just so I could move as I pleased according to my own policy. That was the level of criteria I used to choose her. And, to be honest about my ulterior motives...

—In an emergency, if I have to cut her loose, if she has no emotions, it won't hurt my heart.

If I followed my original policy, I should just abandon Sakura here. If I just stole the Command Spells and left here by myself, it would be difficult but not impossible. Then, with the Command Spells, I could contract with someone like Sola-Ui. Even if I took damage, my combat ability wouldn't decrease that much, so I could return to the front lines as long as I was careful about distance.

That should be the most efficient way. It should be the right way. And yet... since when did I become unable to do it?

"It's okay, everything will be all right."

I checked the body huddled and trembling against my chest. I didn't know if my words were reaching her. Amidst the noisy writhing of the insects, they probably vanished instantly.

Despite that, Sakura gripped my clothes and answered. My string of irresponsible words was met with trust. Even though I was betraying her very heart... why do you trust me so much? I'm not a Hero. I won't risk my life for someone else. I'm nothing more than an ordinary human. I'm not the kind of being who can answer for a life entrusted to them.

Who would intervene between people pointing knives at each other just because someone is in danger?

I told myself sternly, over and over. Just because I have a sense of debt, there's no reason I should be obligated to bet my life. Especially for a child I've only lived with for a few days.

What I need to do is simple. First, let go of my right arm and concentrate the Noble Phantasms in one direction. Defensive Noble Phantasms can be kept to a minimum. They only need to hold for a single second. Once a hole opens, I'll wedge my body in and escape all at once. Even if my body is eaten a bit, it's just something made of Magical Energy. As long as I have Mana and time, I can recover as much as I want. It’s a simple task.

Now, hurry up. First, release your hand. You just have to relax your muscles, so it should be easy. I thought intensely. Over and over, in order to save my own life.

Everyone loves themselves most! You can't stake your life for others! What's wrong with me moving to save myself?! So, let go—

And yet, the strength wouldn't leave my arm...

Even if I couldn't see, my body continued to firmly confirm Sakura's presence. A warmth that seemed to soak into me. A body that was still slightly trembling. All of it told me that she truly existed there, that she was alive.

Are you going to let this child die? I asked myself.

I should just nod. If I do, at least I will be saved. And yet.

Before I knew it, my whole body was tense. My movements were so dull that my handling of the insects became scattered. In contrast, my arms were holding Sakura firmly. I felt only frustration at my pathetic self. What was that frustration directed at—the fact that I couldn't abandon Sakura, or the fact that I was thinking about abandoning her?

Shadows flickered in the back of my mind. Stop it, I wanted to scream.

They were all ordinary people—family, friends, neighbors, school acquaintances, nothing more.
People I can no longer meet, whose names and faces I can no longer remember. It’s not as if it means anything in particular. It just means I can’t see them anymore.

The shifting scenery continued further. Places I had never seen, crowds of unfamiliar faces, even a best friend I had never known. Someone else's memories, not even from the modern era. It's not that I felt anything upon seeing them. It’s just that the emotions conveyed by them surfaced as if they were my own. Pride, longing, nostalgia, being moved, sadness, despair, and once again, regret.

Please stop. It's fine, I don't care about the things I've lost anymore. I've left behind the things that can't be taken back and I'm trying to live a normal life. By losing everything once, I realized how precious the ordinary things and ordinary people are. So please. I'm not asking you to make me forget... I just want you to leave me alone. At least, for now.

And yet, the last thing to surface was...

A girl. The kind you could find anywhere, with her hair cut to about shoulder length. However, I simply couldn't remember her smiling face—Sakura Matou.

Someone I haven't lost yet.

Death is loss. Loss means being left behind, and leaving others behind. An unchangeable fact. Just the past. Knowing that, do I really think I can make Sakura part of the "past"?

Besides, I had thought it.

Possession, reincarnation, or whatever else—the name doesn't matter. Regardless, I was here in this world, in this place, as a "me" other than myself. Not because anyone wished for it, but because I alone decided so.

I was supposed to be able to start over. Once the Holy Grail War was over, I would cut off my worries. I would live in this world as just a single individual. I might stand out a bit, but that’s a minor problem. I should have been able to make the nightmare called the Holy Grail War a thing of the past quickly and live as if nothing had happened. And yet.

At first, I felt guilty toward her. The kindness I showed to gloss over the atrocities was likely just to comfort myself. While wondering how I could repay her, she began to occupy more of my mind. Before I knew it, in the peaceful place called "home," her presence by my side became natural.

I started to think of her as family.

Death is scary—very scary. There's no way I'm not afraid of experiencing that infinite loss again. It's only natural for Heroic Spirits to have regrets. Because they died. They lost everything! Because nothing remains in their hands!

The "me" who had become "no one." I am not Gilgamesh. Naturally, I am not the original me either. An existence that no one knows, who would just disappear again in a few days if left alone. But Sakura knew. She, and she alone, knew the "me" who had become Gilgamesh, not just some "no one." Not anyone else, not as a nameless "someone." But me.

If it were a stranger, I could let them die as much as I wanted. I can't risk my life for someone I don't know, for someone who doesn't know me. How much difference is there between that and watching the news on TV? Characters are just existences you happen to know. Such things might be convenient, but they aren't close to you.

But my family… I can’t abandon them, and Sakura is the only one I have. I'm scared to die, but losing someone I care about is just as frightening. That is what “loss” means.

I'm afraid of dying. I'm afraid of losing. Both are terrifying. That's why I can't choose anything.

Ah—finally, I understood the true nature of my frustration. I am unable to make a decision. The thing that Heroic Spirits do as a matter of course.

Saber can make the decision to abandon.

Rider can make the decision not to abandon.

I can do neither. Unable to decide, indecisive, I'm just wavering around.

To begin with, I'm just an ordinary person. It's natural I can't do it... how much value is there in using those words as an excuse? Whether you're a hero or not, the choice is forced upon you.

As I slowly but surely headed toward death. I simply couldn't let go of the first warmth I obtained in this world.

I can't even expect help from the other Servants. Our alliance was based on a coincidence of interests. If the merit of helping me doesn't outweigh the demerit, help won't come. No, even before that, it's because they are Heroes that they don't mistake who they should save. Just as Lancer ran to his Master's side.

Ah, come to think of it. I remembered there was one more option.

A purely meaningless one. To simply stay here without being able to do anything, huddled in fear of death, waiting for the final moment. Like a mere ordinary person, dying in a ditch while being unable to do anything.

It would be a death that suited me perfectly. I laughed self-deprecatingly.

I could clearly understand the end of the existence known as "me."

From the missing parts of my body, I could sense Magical Energy flowing out and being lost. The sensation of myself thinning out from the inside. It exceeded the amount of Magical Energy being supplied by Sakura. Once I understood that, even if I couldn't give up, I came to terms with it.

Even with the specs of Gilgamesh, said to be the strongest among all Heroic Spirits... if the one wielding them is me, is this all I can do? Would everything be different if I were the real Gilgamesh?

At the very least, I prayed that I would not have to suffer in the end. The arm holding Sakura tightly begins to lose its strength as my magical energy is gradually depleted. 

"...Archer-san?"

I heard a whispering voice, sounding puzzled. From the atmosphere, I knew she had looked up at me.

As my strength began to fade, the clothes Sakura was clutching through the gaps in my arm armor were pulled taut.

"Hey... Archer-san... No..."

Was it just my wishful thinking that it sounded like a scream? The thought that maybe, just maybe, I was liked to that extent.

I couldn't respond to her voice. Instead, I losing my strength even more. Was it my body that was truly thinning out, or was it my consciousness?

"Stop... don't go..."

Sakura pulled on my clothes over and over, seeking a reaction. But what words could I possibly give her now?

Despite talking big about wanting to repay her, in the end, I've done nothing. Did I think I was doing something for her by giving her dolls? While knowing that wasn't what she truly wanted. What a girl who had lost her heart needed was the ordinary warmth found in a normal household. Something that I, who was frequently away from home, couldn't possibly have given her. Even more so when my contact with her was like touching fragile glass.

If I have any regrets. It's that I couldn't save her. Having even considered abandoning her, it's not even hypocrisy anymore.

I gently stroked the head of Sakura, whom I had made cry until the very end.

"Stop it... stop it... don't go... please... STAY WITH ME!!!"

It was a miracle—

The voice was nothing but a scream. And it was nothing but a scream. Yes, it was something filled with the emotion of "sadness."

In a place where light should never reach, something shone for a fleeting moment. On the lower left of my body, near my waist. More accurately, on the back of the right hand Sakura was clutching—the Command Spell.

It was an impossible thing. What is necessary for the use of a Command Spell, even more than the Magical Energy that serves as the spark, is "will." Feelings become power more than anything else. Putting feelings into the power called Magical Energy is the mechanism of the Command Spell. If so, without a strong—average human-level—will, it cannot function as a Command Spell.

Then what is this? Strength flooded my body. The Magical Energy leaking from my missing parts stopped, even if only temporarily. The Noble Phantasms that were losing their momentum regained it. Even more so than before.

The emotional wounds Sakura suffered weren't so shallow that they could be healed in just a few days. If so, then this—is none other than the emotion she squeezed out for my sake. More than anything, the girl who had lost her will thought of me.

I put strength back into the arm I was losing. Powerfully, so as never to let go of Sakura's small body again.

"What... was I about to give up on!"

In the darkness, I roared with all my might. With enough power that it seemed it would break through the wall of insects and echo outside.

Yes, something I was about to forget. I'm terrified of dying, and at the same time, I want to start my life over, I just want the continuation of everyday life. For that, I've been fighting a war I didn't even want to participate in. I've racked my unaccustomed brain, doing many things I didn't want to do, and made it this far. To give up now just because I'm surrounded by insects, my natural enemy? Don't be ridiculous! If I could really give up that easily, I wouldn't have made it this far!

And what's more. Sakura showed me a will strong enough to activate a Command Spell. While my "family" is working this hard, there is absolutely no way I can be the first to give up.

I'm not a Hero. But I can become a Hero only for Sakura.

Clutching Sakura tightly to my chest, I stepped forward with determination. That step itself might have been meaningless, but the way I crouched had purpose. The giant mountain of insects shifted slightly to fill the gap. That meant the encirclement had thinned, if only by a few centimeters.

"Let's go, Sakura."

"...Yes."

In response to my words, although not powerfully, a firm answer came back. To that, I laughed.

A method that was impossible until now. However, with the backup of the Command Spell in effect, I can do something reckless. For example, temporarily doubling the deployment of Noble Phantasms to get outside without letting Sakura be harmed.

I maximized the deployment of defensive Noble Phantasms. I sent the majority to the front, and only a token amount to the rear. Just enough that they would be eaten up in three seconds, and the insects would come cascading in. A declaration of intent that I no longer intended to defend. Along the direction of travel, within a space no larger than a single body, I deployed the Gate of Babylon. The tips of the blades protruded, filling every gap.

A split second before the Noble Phantasms in the rear were broken through. A powerful kick, strong enough to create a massive crater in the ground, thrust my body forward.

Was it the moment I flew, or just before? For some reason, I felt like someone pushed me from behind. But I couldn't feel any ill intent in it. I looked behind me.

There, someone was standing. A silhouette clearly visible in the darkness. A man with golden hair and red eyes, who possessed the dignity of a true King, unlike a fake like me. His terrifyingly displeased face was very impressionable. His left hand was folded, and his right hand was thrust out. He looked at me, and with that same displeased expression, he snorted as if in mockery. With that, he turned around and disappeared faster than the insects could touch him.

I don't know who that was. To begin with, the possibility that it was my delusion is the highest. Even so, it's surely permissible for me to recognize it as a fact. I returned only a smile to the man who was no longer there. After that, I stopped looking back. Because I had decided to only look forward.

The concentrated fire of thousands of Noble Phantasms blew away the insects in an instant. From the hole that was punched through, I saw the outside light for the first time. I blew away more insects that tried to close the gap with an even greater number of Noble Phantasms. Forcing open the gap with defensive Noble Phantasms was no simple task. The insects would absorb Magical Energy upon contact; continuous contact would lead to immediate depletion. No matter how powerful a Noble Phantasm is, it's impossible to defend perfectly once its power is drained. The insects I couldn't clear away rained down on us like they were tackling us.

The amount of insects falling was incomparable to when we were trapped inside. Even my highly durable armor quickly lost its effectiveness. Finally, my left arm was severed from my body.

The part, which had become a mere mass of ether, fell into the cave of pure darkness. I felt the resurrected pain and loss, but it wasn't a problem. As long as I had my right arm, there was no hindrance to holding Sakura.

Damage accumulated on my body. Suddenly, my right eye stopped seeing. An insect that fell had likely touched it by chance and decomposed it. If I can save Sakura, I'll gladly give up something like my right eye.

Just as the starlight outside loomed before us, our momentum slowed sharply. The momentum I had gained at the start was shaved off more than expected by the pressure of the insects. At this rate, we would stop before we could fully escape.

As if I’d let it end like this! Sakura believed in me and even bared her worn-out emotions. I, who received them, have no right to lose in a predicament like this. I lifted my leg high. Even if I did that, there was no ground to serve as a stepping stone. But if there isn't any, I'll just make some.

I placed one of the Noble Phantasms that was supposed to be deployed in front beneath my feet. It's not something with enough mass to serve as a stepping stone in mid-air, but it's a different story if it's halfway embedded in the Gate of Babylon. The sensation of my foot catching it was sufficient, even if a bit unreliable. I stepped out all at once, feeling the foothold tumble away. In exchange, we broke through the insects even as they swarmed us—and finally, we came out into the sky, where there was nothing around us.

In terms of time, it was only tens of minutes. At the very least, it was a short interval that hadn’t even reached an hour. However, to us—who had been trapped in the dregs of hatred, death, and curses—it felt like a year. Even the ground I stepped on after landing felt fresh.

Even though we had escaped, the mountain of insects, which might have been over a thousand meters high, was still there. I began to sprint without lowering my guard, while simultaneously blowing away those coming at me with my Noble Phantasms.

I looked back and thought of something trivial. I was surely affected by the atmosphere of Angra Mainyu that filled the surroundings. That's why I was so conscious of death and thinking such pathetic things. I don't even want to think about whether that's true or not. At the very least, it seems like a perfect and high-class excuse.

I am a pathetic, worthless, trivial person. But that's fine. Because that's what a "human" is. No matter how much I wish for it, I probably won't be able to become a Hero. But even so, it's fine. Even if I can't become a Hero everyone dreams of, it's enough if I can be the Hero for my family—for Sakura. Because I am just a "Human."

I finished retreating and set Sakura down. The backup from the Command Spell has already run out. My deployment of Noble Phantasms has decreased by the amount of damage I took. That's certainly not a negligible amount. At the very least, I probably don't have enough Magical Energy left to allocate to a flight-type Noble Phantasm.

The situation hasn't even returned to fifty-fifty. Even so, I no longer feel like I'm going to lose. I only felt the certain connection between me and Sakura.

---

"This is bad." Without even the leeway to voice that thought, Rider looked down at the ground from the sky.

Beneath him lay a massive "mountain," perhaps thousands of meters in height and width. No, it was no inorganic object. Its shifting form revealed it to be a living creature, and the hideous impression it cast upon all who saw it signaled that it was no ordinary matter.

It was something that had not existed a few seconds ago. The Master of Archer had suddenly appeared. Using her as bait, a swarm of insects had enveloped the area. It was, so to speak, a prison designed specifically to kill the Servant possessing the greatest firepower.

Waver, who had been tumbled over and lost his footing, pulled himself up. Like Rider, he gazed down. He reached for the binoculars hanging from his neck, but then pulled his hand back to the rim of the chariot. There was no need for binoculars to look down at an object far larger than a building, situated not even that far below.

Without even noticing his binoculars swinging hollowly in their place, Waver spoke.

"That... is Archer, isn't it...?"

Waver asked the meaningless question in a state of daze. However, Rider understood those feelings all too well. That was how absurd the sight was.

The individual insects were diminutive, only a few centimeters at most. To count how many millions of them it took to form a literal mountain was an exercise in futility. Even if one gathered every insect that had existed in the southern region until moments ago, they would not amount to even half of this mass.

"He’s... still alive, right?"

"If he weren't, they would have dispersed long ago."

If the target were gone, there is no reason for them to concentrate there. They would simply move on to devour everything else. In that case, they wouldn't even need to worry about Rider. To those insects, Rider was the Servant who posed the least threat.

Using the Master to drag Archer down, and simultaneously sealing him along with his Master through sheer mass. It was a simple strategy, but the more Archer cherished his Master, the more effective it became. At the same time, it was a strategy born from acknowledging Archer as the "Strongest Servant."

Waver ground his teeth. At the very least, to Zouken Matou or Kirei Kotomine, Rider’s priority was lower than that of Archer or Lancer. He was being forced to witness that reality firsthand.

However, he had to swallow that humiliation for now.

"Is it impossible for him to escape on his own? For example, with a high-output or Grand Noble Phantasm..."

"Impossible. It may be a sensation you cannot grasp, boy, but the True Name Release of a Noble Phantasm requires a great deal of Magical Energy and concentration. Even now, he must be deploying Noble Phantasms in all directions to protect his Master. If he were to attempt using a high-output or Grand Noble Phantasm on top of that, a gap would open in his defenses in an instant."

Furthermore, Rider continued only in his mind as he looked down again. The man-made mountain was frequently squirming, showing no signs of quieting down.

Archer was resisting, refusing to stay silent even while protecting his Master. Whether he was trying to find a way out or simply doing what was necessary, Rider did not know. Regardless, as long as he was being attacked and forced to incinerate the insects with high firepower, he had to keep moving like that.

In the first place, it was unknown if he possessed other Noble Phantasms capable of True Name Release. He might have single-shot, consumable-type Noble Phantasms. Even so, Archer was, in the end, an "owner" and not a "wielder." If he used an unadjusted Noble Phantasm in such a desperate situation, self-destruction was all that awaited him. Rider could not imagine that very cautious man doing such a thing. Creating an exit only to be devoured from behind would be a pointless endeavor.

"What about using your Reality Marble to take only the insects away and rescue Archer? Then you could just deactivate the field at a suitable location."

"That is also impossible. If I were a magus using a Reality Marble, perhaps it would be different, but I am merely a transient wielder. I cannot skillfully exclude Archer—whose exact location is unknown—from the target area."

"This is no good either..." Waver groaned in frustration.

There was no point in sealing Archer inside the Reality Marble along with the insects to save him. In that interval, the city would be devoured without restraint. Once they dispersed, it would be beyond control.

For a moment, the plan to deploy the Reality Marble, rescue Archer, and immediately deactivate it crossed Rider's mind, but he quickly discarded it. The Servants he would summon would naturally have a poor affinity against insects. There was no guarantee of rescue, and even if it succeeded, Rider's exhaustion would only worsen the situation. His Master was Waver, whose magical energy capacity was already low. If they used the Noble Phantasm now, there would be no second time. If this situation had been calculated into the enemy's strategy, it was truly terrifying.

Waver was thinking hard, but unfortunately, there was too much he didn't know about Noble Phantasms. It couldn't be helped; such things were only truly understood by their wielders.

Rider placed his hand on his chin for a split second to think—and immediately spoke his next words.

"By the way, do you know where Zouken’s main body, which was absorbed by the Holy Grail, is located?"

"Over there."

Waver pointed in the direction where the presence of a Servant was thickest. There, a massive number of insects gathered—though not as many as those swarming Archer. In almost every other location, there were virtually no insects at all.

The enemy had stopped scattering to cause confusion and had begun focused attacks. One group was on Archer, and the other was guarding Zouken’s main body.

"Shall I crush them with my Chariot?"

Breaking through the thick layer of insects was nearly impossible for the chariot. The probability was low, but perhaps at the cost of Rider’s life, they could annihilate Zouken. To be blunt, it was nothing more than wishful thinking. Furthermore, even that assumed that Zouken, the core, would not produce more insects and would not move his position.

Rider had intended it as a mere mutter to himself. However, Waver provided an answer.

"I think Zouken is ultimately just a tool to make the Mud of the Holy Grail easier to use. Kirei Kotomine can likely manipulate the mud for as long as his Command Spells last. Now that they've enveloped Archer, the fact that they've taken the form of insects is actually convenient. Liquid would be even harder to block. If Rider becomes unable to fight and only Lancer is left, that wouldn't even be a gamble worth taking."

In this operation, there were two primary targets. One was Zouken Matou, and the other was Kirei Kotomine—or more accurately, the Holy Grail held by Kirei. Unless both were defeated, it would continue to function in the worst-case scenario.

They could not rely on Saber, whose survival was looking hopeless. Therefore, either Rider or Archer had to survive until the end in a state where they could still use their Noble Phantasms.

Rider struck his own forehead with his fist. The dull thud resonated directly in his brain.

It seemed he had lost some of his composure in his haste. Having a Master who could compensate for that was truly reliable.

"As things stand, is 'waiting' our only option?"

"Yeah... it's frustrating, but we can't afford to play into their hands and exhaust ourselves here."

To merely watch in the middle of such a battlefield—there was no way Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, who had always led from the front, would not feel regret.

"I doubt everything has gone exactly according to their calculations... but this command of the battlefield, despite being the work of a monster, is nothing short of magnificent."

Before he knew it, Rider was slamming his fist down hard.

He, too, was one who had always led armies. That was reflected in his Military Tactics Skill. Archer aside, Saber was also one who had led armies. The fact that she lacked the Military Tactics Skill while he possessed it was a source of extra confidence for him. One could say this was his specialty.

And yet, to be constantly outmaneuvered like this was nothing but a humiliation.

"I know how you feel, but keep it together, Rider."

"I know. If we endure, an opportunity will surely come our way again. We must hold out until then, no matter what."

Even so, it was difficult to suppress his surging passion. The strength clenched in his fist remained.

In truth, this restless appearance might have been closer to his true self. Even if he flew into a rage and let his emotions take over, there was someone nearby who could calmly admonish him. At the same time, it meant he trusted Waver that much. It transcended the temporary relationship of Master and Servant.

"Hm...? Rider, look at that."

He knew the insects could fly to some extent. That was why he had maintained a high altitude to avoid being shot down by any chance. Because of this, Waver had to use binoculars to check the ground in detail. As Waver peered through the lenses at the area far beneath them, Rider followed suit.

Though he did not equal the Archer-class with their superior vision, he could see as well as the binoculars allowed.

There, a single man carrying a large pack was running, skillfully evading the insects. He was heading straight for the center of the disaster. In this land of calamity, surely he wasn't just a bystander. If he were, he would be a fool with no sense of danger.

"Was that one of Saber's allies?"

At Rider’s muttered remark, Waver tilted his head. He increased the magnification of the binoculars to observe the man’s face. He was an ordinary man with no distinguishing features other than his messy hair. Naturally, he was no one Waver remembered.

Well, if Rider said so, it must be true. Frustratingly, Waver felt he had no chance of beating Rider when it came to powers of observation.

For some reason, the man was here alone. That strict King would never send a single ally into enemy territory. That meant Saber was almost certainly dead. It was within expectations, but a regrettable loss nonetheless. However, more importantly, his arrival here carried great meaning.

"Rider!"

"Indeed! The turning point has come!"

Rider shook the reins violently, causing the Chariot to accelerate all at once. Thunder roared loudly, as if to clear away his accumulated frustrations. It illuminated the sky for a fleeting moment, then turned the lightning into a path, becoming a flash that no one could stop.

As they lowered their altitude, insects lunged at them. However, their numbers were still few, enough to be incinerated by the residual lightning.

"Are we going to pick him up?"

"We don't have time for that! If he's heading straight forward, then I'll simply clear a path in that direction for him!"

Finally, he pulled ahead of the man. Descending to the ground, they let the chariot move at full speed. The number of insects was far greater than in the air. Even so, they could manage as long as Waver pushed himself to provide magical energy.

Trampling countless insects and burning them to death, they likely cleared a significant distance. But that alone was not enough. Rider judged the exact limit of what could be handled by lightning and trampling without error.

Lifting the chariot, they ascended into the air once more. The insects that had gathered to devour Rider writhed on the ground, attempting to chase them as they flew. If they simply left like this, they would only be placing insects in the man's path, becoming a nuisance.

In that case, the most important mission awaited them: acting as a decoy to draw away the insects they had gathered.

"The Chariot is going to get rough! Keep your head up!"

To deal with the insects leaping and lunging at them, Rider drew his sword. Those that surpassed the capacity of the lightning net and slipped through bared their fangs with clear murderous intent.

"I can fight too!"

Like Rider, Waver pulled out his Mystic Code. To put it simply, it was a modest piece of equipment. It was the kind of gear that was merely better than nothing. In a Holy Grail War, it was harder to find an opponent against whom it would be effective. However, against a large number of small enemies, even such a thing was reliable.

Rider continuously cut down the approaching insects. His strikes were accurate, but they were not fast. No matter how much he transcended human logic, one had to say he was slow in dealing with insects.

However, Rider was not alone. Even if he was unreliable as a magus, he had the best possible partner. He didn't need to do everything by himself.

Waver prioritized shooting down the insects falling from the outside. This was simply because he lacked the skill to keep up with Rider’s movements. Even so, by reducing their numbers, he was a sufficient help. Their clumsy yet certain coordination finally ensured that not a single insect was allowed to enter the driver's seat.

However, the cost was high. The damage to the Divine Bulls was by no means small; their bodies were stained with blood, leaving gouged marks everywhere.

(This is bad. The damage to the Chariot is too great.)

While dripping with cold sweat, Rider swung his sword wide.

As the damage to the bulls—the power source—accumulated, both speed and altitude were shaved away. Even now, their speed was gradually dropping. At this rate, he would lose the chariot.

"Rider, to the left!"

At that voice, Rider instinctively steered. There was no need to check what was to the left. Since his trusted Master had said so, and Rider did not doubt him for a single second.

While his body was pulled by centrifugal force, he braced himself with only the strength of his legs. As long as Waver focused on not being thrown off, Rider had to deal with the insects alone. Performing the two tasks of sudden maneuvering and dealing with enemies simultaneously, he felt his consciousness nearly slip away.

In an instant, the scenery reflected in his eyes changed. The desolate plain, its life force devoured by toxic insects, shifted to the wreckage of what was once the Civic Center.

"I see!"

Rider shouted and, with a defiant smile, increased the Chariot's altitude.

As long as he was a decoy, he had to be within range of the insects' attacks. The altitude he reset should have been—normally—a place beyond the insects' offensive capabilities.

"That's a clever move."

"Ugh... this should be... the best spot to draw them in, right?"

Waver, turning pale from the centrifugal force, spoke while holding a hand to his mouth to suppress his nausea.

On flat ground, insects could leap and attack from anywhere. However, in the terrain of the collapsed Civic Center with its extreme height differences, the number of insects that could leap at once, and their positions, were significantly limited. They could play the role of decoy far more easily and reliably than before.

Rider’s exhaustion was intense. In particular, the bulls that formed the core of the chariot had deep damage, and their abilities could be seen as having dropped by one rank or more. A creature-type Noble Phantasms recovered from damage far faster than ordinary weapon-type Noble Phantasms. Well, in exchange for that advantage, they had the disadvantage of significantly low defensive power, so it was a trade-off. Regardless, with a little more time, they would likely recover to about one rank below their original capability.

It was Rider's role to perfectly balance the decrease in ability, the damage, and the number of insect attacks. Since his Master had performed his job perfectly, Rider had to do at least that much to save face.

While thrusting his sword into the insects that slipped through the gaps in his exhaustion and entered the lightning barrier, Rider gently pushed back Waver's head as the latter tried to lift it.

"You're staggering. Rest for a bit."

He only touched Waver’s forehead with a touch so gentle it was like a hand reaching for an infant. Yet Waver was so exhausted he couldn't even resist that. This wasn't just due to the chariot’s reckless maneuvers. He had been charging through insects that absorbed Magical Energy and decomposed Ether. Even looking only at the Magical Energy supplied to Rider, it required at least three times the amount of a normal battle. On top of that, he was even using magecraft to ward off the insects. Waver’s magical energy was completely depleted; he was wringing out the necessary amount by scraping away even a small portion of his soul.

In truth, it wouldn't have been strange for him to collapse right then.

"Do you think... I could just sit here idly while letting you fight alone?"

The weak words reached Rider from Waver. At that, Rider laughed.

He was like a different person from the boy Rider had first met, whose only notable trait was his naivety. Waver Velvet was currently in the middle of evolving. A magus of the Clock Tower and a brat who did nothing but accumulate complaints about rights he hadn't earned. A child who acted tough before a battle but in reality had no resolve whatsoever.

The man who had been nothing more than a child had, at some point, come to sit beside the King of Conquerors and discuss strategy. Moreover, in terms of split-second decision, there were even aspects where he surpassed Rider.

And now, the current Waver was undoubtedly a warrior. He was not in the least bit ashamed to stand beside a Heroic Spirit. It was because such humans existed that a King who commanded heroes could never quit. How could he not laugh?

However, he was still naive. His resolve was set, but his momentum was getting ahead of him. Admonishing that was also the role of a King.

"I am enough for this place alone. If you're going to use your strength in such a boring place, rest well for now. If you do, you'll be able to recover at least a little magical energy, won't you?"

"Well, this area has a lot more magical energy than normal, maybe because of the Holy Grail’s influence... but that's just a drop in the bucket."

"That is fine. If your magical energy recovers even a bit, your fatigue will be lessened, won't it? Then, it's a natural conclusion that the sharpness of your mind will return. Surely you don't intend to challenge the battles that lie ahead with a dulled mind?"

Rider spoke provocatively.

Waver looked annoyed for a moment and pursed his lips. But he soon regained his composure.

"Fine, it’s just as you say. Hmph. It really wasn't like me, the 'intellectual type,' to be fighting on the front lines anyway. I’ll just quietly recover my Magical Energy."

"Do that. I am enough for this place alone."

Even if he understood, perhaps he wasn't entirely convinced. Or perhaps he just wanted to show a bit of rebellion. Waver spoke petulantly, then sat down quietly.

Once one rests their body, it’s hard to resist afterwards. He had sat down more deeply than he himself had intended.

His hair, now messy, hid his face which was heavily colored with fatigue. As if to brush it aside, Rider scratched his head vigorously.

"Whoa! Wh-what are you doing! Seriously, quit treating me like a kid..."

(That wasn't my intention, though.)

Truly. Not at all.

Whether it was just a little or something more, Rider relied on Waver. Rider had no intention of treating someone whose abilities he trusted as a child.

However, he had no intention of correcting him.

Waver Velvet. He showed glimpses of a "Great Vessel," but his essence was still colorless. No, beyond that, even the shape of his vessel was not yet fixed. What kind of vessel would he become, what would he contain, and how much would he accumulate? Everything was an unknown. Certainly, if Rider intervened now, he could change that mold to his own liking. However, he did not want to do such an unrefined thing. A vessel is interesting precisely because one makes it themselves. What is interesting about something that turns out exactly as intended?

I want to see the path he takes, just a little bit more.

To use that as an accompaniment to his drink was a luxury that surpassed any courtly cuisine.

"Heh... hahaha."

"Wh-what? What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing, just that something good happened."

Waver looked confused, with question marks floating around him. That was fine. His growth belonged to him alone. It was one thing if he absorbed it himself, but influences from the outside must not be imposed.

The remaining Magical Energy was lamentably low. If he wanted any more supply, he would have to rely on a Command Spell. To manage the Magical Energy efficiently, Rider lowered his output by one level.

The lightning curtain covering the top of the Chariot lowered by one step. The Magical Energy consumed by the chariot itself could be recycled to some extent, but the lightning was a continuous discharge and was originally only a residual effect. Since it was the only effective attack against the insects, he had been forcibly strengthening it, but the efficiency was extremely poor. Since he could deal with the things that leaped onto the top with his sword alone, this would be a considerable saving.

"That man from before is already gone," said Waver, his face having lost much of its paleness, perhaps having recovered a bit.

"In which direction did he head?" Rider asked after gaining enough altitude and confirming the insects couldn't reach them.

"Toward the back of the Civic Center ruins. He didn't seem to have moved much."

Whether he didn't need to or there was a reason he couldn't, Waver didn't know. He conveyed that implicitly.

As they gained height, perhaps having lost track with his naked eyes, Waver began to check the battlefield with his binoculars again. Rider didn't quite know how much accuracy could be expected in such darkness.

"How about we try to follow him? In a place where magical energy is this dense and scattered, I think a magus could get close without being noticed."

"Impossible. If I were of the Assassin-class, I could have concealed my presence. But if we let him escape because of that, it would be putting the cart before the horse. We shall quietly do our own job. It seems Lancer has just returned to the fray."

Becoming a beast that ran across the earth, Lancer leaped across the ground, tearing through the swarm of insects with a ferocity incomparable to his previous state. That movement, even considering he was the fastest Servant, exceeded his limits. It was an overwhelming suppression at a speed that even seemed tragic.

Something had happened—his movements were enough to confirm that. However, they had no luxury to consider what it was.

Rider slid the chariot and immediately pulled up to a position a short distance from Lancer. If they got too close, they would be cleaved in two just like the insects. His spear-handling was dangerous enough to make one think so.

Rider scattered lightning around the area. The loudly echoing sound certainly reached Lancer. His eyes were sharp, making it impossible to believe he was the same handsome man from before.

Like taming a mad beast, Rider raised his voice.

"No matter how many of the fringes you cut, they won't feel a thing! Calm yourself, Lancer! Your spear should be one that pierces with composure, sharp like a frozen plain! That spear, like a purgatory, is killing your own true strength!"

For a split second, Lancer’s killing intent turned toward Rider. The pressure was such that Waver choked on the residual effects alone.

(Is this guy no good?)

Lancer’s rage did not fade in the slightest even after changing its target. That was how much he had lost himself. In this situation, there was no way they could afford to deal with Lancer as well. Rider gripped the reins tightly so he could withdraw immediately if necessary.

However, the preparation for withdrawal was not needed. The emotion in Lancer’s eyes gradually faded, and he eventually regained himself. It was hard to call it "calm," but considering his state just a moment ago, it was sufficient.

"...Forgive me. I caused you trouble."

"It is fine. I shall not ask now."

Lancer, who had retreated without looking back in the face of the enemy. A situation that forced him to do so... could not possibly be anything good.

With a heavy sound, Rider slowly turned the chariot around. Their position was still high in the sky, and they did not approach Lancer. The chariot, which was exhausted nearly to the limit of its function as a Noble Phantasm, would be destroyed in an instant if it went down to the intense battle zone. Rider shouted down to Lancer, who continued to swing his spear below.

"Lancer, have you noticed?"

"You mean the core of these things. I know it well—this hideous, cursed, loathsome presence drifting about."

A thrust of killing intent that seemed to say he would shoot them dead even with a glance—it accurately looked toward the other cluster of insects.

"I’ll ask you straight. Can you break through that and strike the main body?"

"If you mean by myself, it’s impossible. It’s frustrating, but even if I surpass them in speed, I’ll be overwhelmed by numbers. It would be a different story if a power-type Noble Phantasm cleared the way halfway."

"In other words, if I open a path with my Chariot, it would be possible to crush it... but..."

As Rider spoke, Lancer looked at the mountain of insects and snorted.

Almost simultaneously, the mountain of insects swelled. It wasn't that their numbers had increased. The insects that had been clustered in one spot had all spread out at once. The density had dropped, but the distance to reach Zouken had more than doubled.

It was an overt countermeasure against Rider’s Noble Phantasm. With this, Lancer could not get close enough to aim for a killing blow. However, this was expected, and there was no disappointment. Even though the enemy had the advantage of mass, they were an opponent who had skillfully used it to keep taking the initiative. At this stage, Rider could not indulge in the convenient delusion that they would fail to take countermeasures.

"Can you manage on that side?"

Rider next pointed to a mountain far larger than the previous one.

"If I can't even handle that one, there's no way I can manage this one, which is clearly ten times larger. No, before that, could this be..."

"Indeed, it’s Archer. It seems his Master has been taken hostage, and he’s unable to even escape."

The writhing mountain was as high as ever. Still, it had become slightly shorter. Archer’s offensive capability must be surpassing the insects' ability to multiply. However, if asked if that would last until Archer’s escape, Rider had to say it would not. Rider, who had been facing the insects until just a moment ago, knew that best of all.

"Can't you do something with your Noble Phantasm?"

"Impossible."

This time, it was Rider's turn to deny.

"My Noble Phantasm has an extremely poor affinity with these things. A chariot that performs a 'ramming attack' is essentially going in to get hit itself. Even if I used my Army (Ionioi Hetairoi), it's impossible to deal with the insects... and above all, even if I rescue Archer with it, I won't be able to fight afterward. If the two of us who possess firepower become unable to fight, it will be exactly what they want."

That was an indirect declaration that, in the event of an emergency, he would abandon Archer.

Rider, who followed his own aesthetics that could even be seen as naivety. That must have put him at a disadvantage many times. Precisely because of that, he did not make mistakes in choices on an important board. It was because he possessed that cold-bloodedness that he was the King of Conquerors.

"If Saber were here, the story would have been different..."

"Which is exactly why she was targeted first. Aside from the flaw of having 'too much' power, it’s an ideal Noble Phantasm, after all."

If Saber were alive and had managed to join them at this point, Zouken and the others would have been finished. With three people possessing high firepower, the calculation would be that they could sacrifice up to two people to destroy one objective. Plus, Saber’s Invisible Air. If she wrapped that around the chariot, Rider’s anti-insect offensive capability would skyrocket. They could have wiped them out quite safely.

How much was calculation and how much was coincidence? It was impossible to judge. At the very least, for Zouken, the fact that he himself had been devoured must have been outside his calculations. Could he really adjust things this much?

One thing that was clear was that even accidental elements were now acting as a tailwind for the opponent.

Rider had halfway expected it, but the situation did not improve even with Lancer’s return. As he became aware of that, for the first time, a sense of impatience began to form in Rider. But a flat voice rose as if to cut through it.

"My Lord is completing a Mystic Code to defeat that thing and will be here shortly. I was ordered to buy time until then and came here. We just have to endure until then."

While suppressing his rage, which leaked out despite his attempt to feign expressionlessness, the racing spear continued to cut down his sworn enemies.

Finally, a concrete breakthrough plan that did not rely on wishful thinking had emerged. There was still hope. If there was hope, there was a way to form a strategy.

"The break time is over. Keep your mind sharp."

"I know. The real battle starts once the Professor arrives, right?"

Waver answered Rider’s lighthearted words with equal lightheartedness. Though, given how hoarse his voice was, he must have pushed himself quite a bit to get it out.

He wouldn't miss any opportunity. It was at that moment, as he began to concentrate, that a part of the mountain enveloping Archer swelled greatly and blew away with a powerful explosion.

"Nu, ohhh!"

"Waaa!"

Some of the insects that had been blown away were slammed into Rider and the others with terrifying force. He quickly accelerated the chariot and attempted to withdraw, but the range of the scattered insects was vast, and they couldn't be entirely avoided. While grabbing Waver, who was about to be thrown off, Rider himself gripped the reins tightly.

Fortunately, most of them missed the bulls, and the few remaining could be handled with lightning and his sword. From atop the suddenly started chariot, they looked down at the explosion site. A large number of insects danced in the air, and a golden shadow leaped out as if pushing through them.

To call it "shining" would be an overstatement; it was far too soot-stained. The armor was miserably cracked, and blood flowed from everywhere, staining the gold. No, more than that, he had even lost his left arm.

He was in a state that could be called "riddled with wounds"—and yet, Rider looked at his chest. There was the figure of a young child, unharmed. After being surrounded for a long time by insects that were undoubtedly the natural enemy of Servants, and on top of that, rescuing his Master and making an escape possible—as expected, his ability was a cut above the rest.

Archer immediately took distance and began attacking. His performance lacked its usual brilliance, and the number of Noble Phantasms was far fewer than before he was surrounded.

However, the significance of his return was great.

"Lancer!"

"I know!"

Lancer immediately responded to Rider’s voice and leaped. His destination was behind Archer.

Landing so they were back-to-back, Lancer began to pierce the insects attacking from directions other than the front. Archer, despite his firepower, was not suited for dealing with many small enemies requiring precise control. If he was exhausted, that was even more so. While guarding in all directions, he couldn't display his full potential. However, if others compensated for this shortcoming, he could fully utilize the greatest firepower among all Heroic Spirits.

While skillfully restraining the insects that tried to disperse, Archer showered the clustered insects with his Noble Phantasms. However...

"This is bad..." Waver muttered.

Archer's exhaustion was too severe. And the insects had increased too much. The multiplication speed had already surpassed the firepower.

If the insects were a little fewer, or if Archer’s damage were less, they might have been able to push through from the front.

Zouken Matou’s defense was as thick as ever. Now that he had won in the balance of firepower and mass, he likely had no reason to rush the match. He watched them being crushed with composure, without changing his formation.

"Archer, don't you have any high-firepower or Grand Noble Phantasm!?"

Waver screamed. The answer to that was a bitter affirmation.

The Noble Phantasm itself existed—likely something that could break through this situation. But due to a lack of Magical Energy, the enemy’s pressure leaving no room, or the loss of his left arm, he was in a situation where he couldn't use it.

"The Command Spells...!"

"If they were in a state where they could be used, they would have been used long ago."

He was not a man who would hold back in a time of need. In that case, he had either already used them all, or—

Rider turned his gaze toward Archer’s Master. The young girl huddled small while being held by him. He didn't know her level as a magus, but she didn't look like she could fight in this situation. She was undoubtedly a makeshift Master who hadn't prepared for the Holy Grail War. One could not expect precise actions from her.

And then.

Was it lucky or unlucky? Probably, "lucky" was correct.

A tactical action calculated by Rider’s vast experience. An equation for victory. The path with the highest probability of achieving the goal, no matter what process it took.

If it were a battle where he could laugh even in defeat, he might have ignored it. But the ones who would be sacrificed were the people of this land. They were not people of the country led by Iskandar, nor did they have any connection to the Holy Grail War. They were, so to speak, people who had been caught in the crossfire because of others' wishes. If he were to abandon the path to victory and let them all die...

Anyone who could find that acceptable was no longer a hero or anything of the sort. They were just trash.

Therefore, there was no hesitation in his decision.

The chariot began to run. Turning its back on the battlefield, in the opposite direction. From Waver, who sat beside him, an atmosphere of shock could be seen.

"H-hey! Where do you think you're going, Rider!"

"By the way, don't you think we're the best pair in this Holy Grail War?"

"Is this the time for that!?"

It was probably the first time. Waver screamed in genuine anger.

Of course, it wasn't the time to say that. Rider was well aware of that. To put it simply, it was just a kind of small talk. There was no meaning in saying it on purpose.

But even so, the reason his mouth opened was probably because he had realized it.

"The other pairs are no good at all; they don't understand. If it were individuals, the strong one would win, but the struggle for the Grail is a war. Those who can most align their breaths are the strongest."

"Just get back there! I'll listen to that as much as you want later..."

Waver, who had been shouting with enough force to grab Rider, suddenly lowered his voice. His gaze was on Rider’s face.

Rider was smiling now. Not with his mouth wide open, smiling defiantly as usual, but an expression of a gentle smile. It was an expression Waver was seeing for the first time, and Rider himself thought it was likely an expression he didn't often make.

The path is for those who move forward, walls are for breaking, and people are for bringing into one’s embrace—that was the creed he always acted upon. Serenity was foreign to such a person, and he tried to keep it that way. If one intends to reach the ends of the world, no amount of time is enough. There is no leeway to look back and relax.

And yet, Rider did so. Intentionally, toward Waver.

"Wh... what is it?"

Perhaps Waver had sensed something as well. His question was not sharp, and contrary to his words, he looked perplexed, as if he didn't want to know anything.

No, there must be words he wanted to hear—words to deny his current thoughts. He was seeking those.

Rider turned back to the front. The night wind hitting his cheeks felt strangely comfortable for some reason. Even though there were no similarities at all, he remembered his hill, which he had once run across.

"You and I, Waver, are the most excellent. Even in this situation, we have the most leeway. This too is because we help each other. It wouldn't go like this if we were repelling each other or if only one side were giving strength."

Rider laughed loudly, on purpose. This time, just as he usually did.

His partner beside him did not laugh. He looked down and refused to show his face.

"I shall acknowledge that Waver Velvet being the summoner of the King of Conquerors, Iskandar, was the best. This is something you should be a bit proud of, isn't it? After all, the Great King who made his name known throughout the world has acknowledged you more than your own teacher."

"What was... the best... You've only called me 'boy' until now... and now, at this late stage, you use my name..."

A desperate insult. Trembling, weak, and cold. Even so, he must have wrung it out from his entire body.

Waver was vibrating all over. Rider knew the nature of that. It was irrationality. When something helpless and irreversible is before them, humans react that way. In the era when he had once lived, many people had shown such an appearance. And even the King of Conquerors himself had been that way.

"That... that’s like... a last will or something..."

"It is. Here, I shall give my all for victory, and then I shall die."

"Why!?"

Waver slammed both hands down with all his might. He wasn't looking at where. His right hand struck the rim of the driver’s seat, and the other slammed his wrist against the mounting. But ignoring that and even his fatigue, he simply screamed.

His eyes were wide open, and tears overflowed incessantly from the gaps. While his hair was disheveled, he glared at Rider intensely.

"It doesn't have to be you! That's right, we can just buy time for Archer to use his Noble Phantasm! If we do that, there's no need for Rider to be sacrificed. Haha, even though you have a grand skill like Military Tactics, you don't even know something like this—you're not that great after all. So! You should just quietly follow my instructions!"

Waver stood up and grabbed Rider by the collar, forgetting how high they were.

His appearance as he clung on with a desperate look was like that of a child. His hands grabbing the clothes were gripping with enough strength to tremble—but they weren't fully gripped. Rider gently placed his hand over them.

"You understand, don't you?"

A small word. Not even an admonishment.

That was all. While being enveloped by the large hand, Waver’s hands fell from Rider’s chest.

The war situation was different from before. The density and number of insects were far greater. If he used the chariot in such a place, it would be destroyed before he could even support the other two. What awaited was mutual destruction, and in the first place, there was no chance of victory.

However, if it were possible to erase the insects that had increased too much, even temporarily... if it were Archer, he could demonstrate stable firepower and sweep them away. Even Lancer, if the numbers were few, could accurately land a blow with his outstanding skill and speed. If only they could erase the insects.

Normally, it was impossible. However, Rider could do it. By using the "cheat-like" Noble Phantasm known as a Reality Marble.

If he was to strike, it had to be now, while Archer was keeping the insects fixed in one mass. Waver was not someone who wouldn't understand that. Yes, the strategist acknowledged by Iskandar.

"Hold onto this."

Rider removed the sword hanging from his waist and forced Waver to hold it. The sword that Rider had swung lightly with one hand was more than a handful even for both of Waver’s slender hands.

"You don't... mean this to be a memento, do you?"

While cradling the sword, Waver laughed. Tears were flowing down, and his eyebrows were knitted, yet he was desperately trying to make a smile with his mouth. It was a terribly pathetic face—but it was more powerful than anything.

There was no way he could accept it. Who could accept the death of their partner? But he could at least prepare his resolve. Even if it wasn't for a final farewell—even if it was just to not show an unsightly figure to his partner. If he could make his own back appear great, that alone would have meaning. The one left behind can remember it and turn it into strength—he could believe that.

"Don't be a fool; I'm only lending it to you because it's better than being empty-handed. There are plenty of weapons within my army, after all. But that one is a special one among the weapons I possess. When I return, I shall naturally have you return it."

"Not unless I’ve mastered it better than you by then."

"Ho, to become more worthy for the sword than I! That would be fine in its own way!"

While forcing a laugh, his voice immediately cut out. His cloak was pulled slightly.

"You... you could have clung to living a bit more, couldn't you? You wanted a second life, didn't you?"

At that, Rider laughed. It was exactly as Waver said.

He had no intention of selling his life cheaply. He still wanted to see the continuation of his dream.

But even so...

"Do you remember Archer's words?"

When asked, Waver silently shook his head.

"In the end, we are merely visitors—existences from the past. If there is an opportunity, we fight, and we also aim for a body of flesh. However, those who should be prioritized are the ones who live in this era.”

The place he had once run across. The country, the hill, the battlefield, the friends, and everything else. A life that continued to shine from birth until death. For Rider, it was something that had already ended... and for Waver, it was exactly what was happening now.

Above all, Rider wanted to let him live. More than anyone, he wanted the human named Waver Velvet to live.

The chariot landed on the ground. Close enough to see the battlefield, but far enough that no enemies would come. An exquisite position.

"Now, get off. I alone am enough for the battlefield from here on."

Waver showed no signs of resistance. He stepped onto the ground and turned back to Rider. The face he showed was swollen red.

And they both laughed, neither knowing which started first. Neither was good at it, but it was the best expression they could manage at the time.

Rider turned his back. He had already burned Waver's figure into his eyes. Though he had regrets, with this he could go to his place of death with peace of mind.

"Well then, I’m off."

Farewell—he tried to say that, but it didn't become words. Because he had promised to return. In that case, the appropriate words would be different.

He would likely turn that into a lie. That was a regret.

"Rider..."

The sound of a breath being drawn. Or was it a ritual for Waver to find his resolve? The sound of cloth rubbing; he must have raised his arm.

"WIN!"

Along with the voice, a vast amount of magical energy flowed in. The sense of fulfillment filling his body was not just from the magical energy. The sadness and the will to overcome it. Above all, the journey they had walked together, even if only for a short period. All of them became one, flowed into Rider, and became strength.

A miracle cannot be established without will. If so, the feeling of omnipotence now enveloping his body was undoubtedly a miracle caused by Waver through a Command Spell.

He had to win, even if it was something that went against his Master’s intentions. That was exactly why Waver hadn't told him to "come back".

"My brother-in-arms—my friend! Meeting you was the very meaning of my being summoned to this era! In that case, burn the radiance I emit into those eyes!"

The chariot began to run. It was so fast it surprised even him, who moved it. It was an acceleration and top speed that made it hard to believe it had been completely exhausted.

Was this the power of a Command Spell? No, Rider denied it. There was no way this vast sensation that made the depths of his heart dance was just a magical energy reaction. This was something born precisely because he desired it and his partner desired it. His destination was not a sense of duty, let alone guilt. Just pure courage—the will to take that first step!

He raced through the shortest distance at maximum speed. The writhing insects below... Good, he felt relieved. Archer was still able to fight to keep the insects from escaping.

Standing up on the chariot, Rider folded his arms and stood tall. And he made a grand declaration, not knowing if anyone was listening.

"Zouken Matou! Your strategy was magnificent; you have made me taste bitterness many times. However—"

The chariot, which had been running parallel to the ground, tilted sharply. An angle that made one think it was nearly vertical. Fierce lightning touched the insects, making them let out shrill cries. Even so, things that were not enough entered inside, gradually shaving away at the bulls and Rider’s body. Even so, he had no intention of stopping. Between the two mountains of insects, slightly closer to the one where Archer and the others were fighting. In other words, a position where he could contain as many insects as possible.

From a place that could be called the high sky, he dived into the combat zone in an instant. The bulls were devoured in an instant, and the chariot that had been with him for a long time was finally called away. Forgive me, and thank you—in his heart alone, he sent his gratitude to the disappearing chariot.

There was nothing left to protect Rider’s body. If he stayed in such a place, he would die in less than a second. But there was no need for such worry anymore. Though at the cost of the great sacrifice of his chariot, Rider had finally reached his intended position.

"This time, it is my turn to do it to you!"

And then, the world was swapped.

From a wasteland to a desert. From night to day. And from the territory of the insects to the territory of Rider.

Reality Marble. The secret art that overwrites the world.

From another perspective, it was also a prison that would never let out what was trapped inside during its duration.

Stepping firmly onto the earth, Rider slowly opened his eyes. Before him was a black mountain of a ridiculous size. Faced with a powerful enemy, he did not feel even a slight hint of fear.

One of the knights standing by handed him a sword. He received it, and as he lowered the blade naturally, blood drew a line on it. Compared to the Sword of Kupriotes, it was nothing but a piece of iron, more dull than anything. However, considering his own skill, just an ordinary sword like the one he now held was just right. Especially if there was someone who declared they would become worthy of it.

As if to flick away the soaked drops, he held the sword toward the heavens with all his might.

"Well done! Brave warriors who answered my call!"

Spears, or perhaps swords, were raised all at once, followed by an explosion of cheers.

"However, I must confess something to you all..."

He lowered the raised sword once, held it to his chest, and spoke solemnly. The heroes gradually became quiet as if not wanting to miss the King’s words.

"Being summoned into this time, I have learned. There was no end of the world. This earth is simply round and connected to all places. What I aimed for existed only in dreams and was nothing but a dream. That is why I wish to ask."

Everyone strained their ears, not wanting to miss the King’s words.

Regardless of their words, the mountain collapsed. It confirmed the presence of countless enemies and, with an even greater infinity, began its march. Even so, not a single person made a sound.

"Was our endeavor... meaningless?"

『『『NO! NO! NO!』』』

The days they ran through have meaning in themselves. Everyone gathered, overlapping many dreams, and became one under the King. Even if there was no end of the earth, those days should not fade because of such a small thing. Amid the chorus of ten thousand, Rider laughed. There was no end of the earth; he had been a jester—he had regretted that, but it wasn't a mistake.

He couldn't stop himself from laughing loudly. His entire body was being devoured. Perhaps he was better off than Archer, since he still had his left arm and right aye. That was the extent of his consolation. However, his mood was at its best—to the point where he couldn't stop laughing.

"Exactly! I have obtained two things in this era. One is the knowledge of the world called the universe, higher than the heavens and with no visible end! A complete unknown that no one has yet traversed! And the other is a new friend who, while being overwhelmed by such a large world, asserts himself and strives to be a hero! A brother-in-arms who knows the joy of conquering the world just like us!"

A great, far too great cheer rose up, piercing the world to reach Waver Velvet.

The spears that had been raised were thrust forward diagonally all at once. A vast vortex of fighting spirit felt as if it would even push Rider’s back. This sensation of one person becoming many, many becoming a swarm, and a swarm eventually becoming a country. A "country" is not just a word for a place where people live. The cradle of will is the country, and the one who steers it is the King.

Therefore, there was no reason to lose to those who were merely a swarm.

"Celebrate the start of a new friend’s journey! Sound the war whistles grandly!"

While celebrating a dream that had grown even larger and a friend even greater than that.

Come to think of it, Rider remembered. There was only one regret. I wanted to see Waver's growth just a little bit more. He thought while putting strength into his bloodstained body and bracing his sword.

"Now, conquer! Beyond the world, to the end of the universe!"

The army finally began to move against the insects that were pressing in just before them, and they began their march while kicking up a large cloud of sand.

A war of ten thousand against hundreds of millions. Faced with an enemy that was far too reckless and the worst possible foe, there was not a single person who did not smile.

As everyone else did, Rider charged with a smile...

And vanished into the black wave.