"Need a signature? All right, I have indeed received it."
"Thank you for your patronage. S-Sorry to disturb you."
"Mm, good work."
In the second-floor bedroom of the Mackenzie Residence, which he had grown so used to that it felt as familiar as his own home, Webber woke from his sleep.
The dark circles beneath his eyes were as heavy as those of a panda, his black hair was as messy as the drafts on his desk, and he looked thoroughly overworked—really, he already had hints of a certain future despite being so young.
Webber had yet to fully come to his senses when he once again remembered that strange scene from his dream—a sky without clouds, a land without wind, a desolate shore with nothing upon it, like an endless sea at the very end of the world.
The sound of waves rose and fell, a distant melody of the sea that only those who pursued the end of the world had the right to appreciate.
To Webber, the dream felt extraordinarily strange. It was as though it was a dream he had no memory of whatsoever, yet could see with exceptional clarity, as if he were peeking into someone else's memories.
There was no doubt about it. These were Rider's memories—not merely those of the Servant formed from magical energy, but the memories of the King of Conquerors himself, who stood high upon the Throne of Heroes and had trampled countless lands beneath his feet.
Webber suddenly realized that this morning, he had not heard the earthshaking snoring that usually came from nearby.
Webber flung aside his blanket and poked his head out. Rider, who should have been sleeping on the floor, was nowhere to be seen. He hated assuming spirit form so much that he would never