Shirou's Thirty Million Avatars

And this was the crux of his argument with Shirou.

"That's impossible! With your physical condition, it'll only speed up your death. Besides, I'm stronger than you—even against a Servant, I can at least do something."

"This isn't about strength, Shirou. You're just a child. Stay home and wait for me. Fighting is an adult's responsibility."

"I'm not a child. I may look seven, but I'm actually seventeen."

"Seventeen is still a child. Kirei Kotomine and Assassin aren't the type to go easy on kids. My life is already near its end—it doesn't matter if I die. But you're different."

"Don't worry, I have a trump card to survive."

"That's still not okay. Shirou, let me go into battle alone with the two Servants. This is the only thing I can do now. At the end of my life, let me do something meaningful, alright?"

"I understand how you feel, but you—"

"Enough!"

At that moment, Nero suddenly stood up, hands on her hips, and declared with gusto:

"Your arguments are far too petty. Seven Heroic Spirits from different eras, crossing time to gather in this single city."

"In such an exhilarating moment, you're stuck on scheming, ambushes, ganging up, and targeting Masters—such behavior is utterly small-minded."

"Isn't that just what war is?" Lancelot couldn't help but interject.

"True enough, but I dislike such conduct." Nero's reply was resolute.

"Then what do you plan to do?" Shirou asked instinctively.

"An excellent question!"

Nero smiled faintly, drew the bizarre red longsword at her waist, and declared loudly:

"It's time to hold a Nero Festival. Invite all the Servants to compete. The victor earns the right to the Holy Grail and my personal commendation."

"No, that alone isn't enough. We should invite the whole city to participate."

Shirou stared at her speechlessly. Truly, Nero Your Majesty—with this willful style, he wondered how the other him put up with it.

"In principle, I support you. But in reality, this is utterly impossible."

"Magecraft thrives on mystery. The Holy Grail War should be conducted in secret, out of sight—that's common sense."

"If we expose the mystery, it'll provoke the wrath of countless mages. It's practically the same as declaring war on the whole world."

Nero smiled again, then said:

"Since my Master has agreed, it's settled. Once all the Servants gather in Fuyuki City, I'll immediately deploy my Noble Phantasm and convene a new Nero Festival."

"Listen to me!" Shirou raised his voice. "Servants mostly do as they please, especially troublemakers like the Hero King and the King of Conquerors. I don't think they'll follow your script."

"No matter. Once I deploy my Noble Phantasm, they'll come to compete on their own."

"Even if you say that... inviting the other Servants for a banquet is one thing. But inviting the whole city to join a competition is another."

"Are you afraid, my Master?"

"This isn't fear—it's reason."

Nero suddenly reached out and ruffled Shirou's hair, smiling as she said:

"No need to worry. I will surely claim victory in this Holy Grail War, on the name of the Fifth Emperor of the Roman Empire, Nero Claudius."

Shirou was left speechless. This was exactly why he hated people who talked to themselves like this.

If only he hadn't used those Riding Boots last night—summoning Archer might have turned out better.

In the White Mist Space.

Letting go of their clasped hands, Celestial Dragon Shirou said excitedly:

"As expected of Nero! What a great idea. When it happens, you've got to remember everything and come share it with us."

Young Shirou stared at him speechlessly, thinking:

Looks like eight years of different experiences have caused some divergence in our personalities.

"Don't gloat. Help me think of a plan—what if Nero gets ganged up on, five against two? What should I do?"

"Relax, you're just too caught up in it." Coachman Shirou smiled reassuringly. "Given the King of Conquerors' personality, he won't team up with others until Nero shows overwhelming power."

"In fact, if the other four Servants join forces, the King of Conquerors might well side with you. Three against three—at worst, it's a fifty-fifty."

"Don't just ignore Hassan. He may be a bit useless, but he's still a Servant." Young Shirou couldn't help but retort, then turned to Celestial Dragon Shirou with hesitation. "Is there a way to save Kariya?"

"Oh...? You've known him for less than a day, and he's already won your heart?" Celestial Dragon Shirou chuckled lightly.

"Don't make such nasty jokes. Can you do it or not?"

"You know my memories inside out. Didn't you already know the answer before you asked? There's nothing that can save him."

"Sigh... I know, but I still can't help hoping. Like, maybe if he ate the Insect-Insect Fruit, Model: Insect."

"Would that work? His body was destroyed by insects, but that doesn't mean turning into one himself would save him. Not unless he could awaken that Zoan Devil Fruit in just a few days."

Shirou let out a long sigh and said no more.

Kariya's body was already riddled with holes; the only option was to find Touko Aozaki to get him a new one.

But Touko Aozaki's whereabouts were unknown—not something that could be resolved in a short time.

With that kind of time, it'd be better to hope that someone capable of saving him would show up at the White Mist Space on their own.

"Alright, let's change the subject. Speaking of which, why didn't you buy Hancock and her two sisters? You had several chances, didn't you?"

"Women only slow down my progress in getting stronger."

"Speak like a human."

"Don't ask what you already know. You're aware that when I met them, they'd been slaves for nearly two years, their hearts full of hatred for the Celestial Dragons. What good would buying them do? I have no interest in playing therapist."

Chapter 10: The Tyrant's Opening Act

Section 10: Chapter 10: The Tyrant's Opening Act

"Well met. I've been striding boldly through this city all day, yet not a single soul was willing to show their face. The only strong one who accepted my invitation is you."

Night fell over Fuyuki City's dock district. A Servant carrying twin spears slowly walked into the open space.

A few meters away, Artoria, clad in a men's suit, stood tall and resolute, stepping forward to shield Irisviel.

The next moment, a rain of petals suddenly fell from the sky. Golden light rose from the ground, and the dim dock district instantly brightened as if it were noon.

In an instant, the surroundings shifted from the dock district to an ancient Western city.

Streets bustled with people. Stalls selling fruit, vegetables, and miscellaneous goods lined the roads, and children played and laughed with one another.

Within their line of sight, some people in modern clothing stood around, looking lost and confused, utterly out of place.

Diarmuid tightened his grip on his twin spears, eyeing the surroundings warily:

"A Noble Phantasm?"

"Did you do this, Lancer?"

The black suit on Artoria instantly transformed into blue armor, and an invisible sword appeared in her hand.

"No, my Noble Phantasm is only these twin spears." Diarmuid denied instinctively.

Just then, a projection appeared in the sky.

In the projection, a young girl with a red sword in hand, her face identical to Artoria's, declared with high spirits:

"I am the Fifth Emperor of the Roman Empire, Nero Claudius, descended in this Holy Grail War under the Caster class."

"This is my Noble Phantasm, and also the City of Rome, of which I am most proud. Today, crossing two thousand years of time, it descends here."

"What is a festival—it is an event that brings joy to all people, regardless of era or location."

"Heroic Spirits from different ages gather here, waging fierce battles for the Holy Grail. Such a grand occasion deserves to be enlivened by my brilliant Nero Festival."

"Of course, if only the Heroic Spirits and Masters participated, it would be far too petty."

"Thus, I have randomly selected fifty thousand citizens from Fuyuki City to serve as both audience and participants."

"This Nero Festival is divided into three events: the Citizen Tournament, the Master Tournament, and the Heroic Spirit Tournament."

"As the host of the event, I have prepared three prizes, which only the champions may obtain."

"The prize for the Citizen Tournament is the Fountain of Life and one ton of gold. Gold has been sought after by people since ancient times, while the Fountain of Life can restore youth to the elderly and grant strength, health, and sharp minds to children."

"The prize for the Master Tournament is the Golden Apple and my singing. I am the only artist in the world who can rival Apollo, so my singing goes without saying. As for the Golden Apple, it can enhance one's magical aptitude and increase the number of magic circuits in the body."

"The prize for the Heroic Spirit Tournament is the fine wine I have carefully prepared, along with the ownership of the Holy Grail."

"Heh heh... I may not understand things like atmosphere, but I can still feel the joy filling the air."

"Those who are already tempted and wish to obtain the prizes, go ahead and sign up to compete!"

"I hereby declare—the festival begins!"

Cheers erupted throughout the city, one after another.

Diarmuid glanced back and forth between the projection in the sky and Artoria, hesitating as he asked:

"Are you two... related?"

"No, not at all."

Artoria stared blankly at the sky, not snapping out of it even after the projection vanished.

She could see it—the people in the city genuinely loved that girl, whose face was nearly identical to her own.

And that was something she had always strived for but never achieved.

Their faces were strikingly similar, yet the other's breadth of mind far surpassed hers. Under her rule, the happy smiles on the people's faces were utterly genuine.

Even after death, they were still willing to follow her forever. With such bonds, such a person—why was she called a tyrant?

Somewhere in the city, the Rider pair.

"Hahaha... Such boldness, such generosity—I'm getting excited."

"What are you thinking? We're right in the middle of an enemy's Noble Phantasm, and instead of finding a way to escape quickly, you're calmly drinking here."

"Don't rush. Thanks to her, all the Servants are gathered here—perfect for taking them all out at once. Compared to hunting them down one by one, cleaning them up together is faster, isn't it?"

"Taking them... all out at once?" Waver stared at him blankly, unable to help repeating it.

"Of course. A chance to cross swords with heroes from different eras is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and there are six of them at that. Naturally, I can't let a single one slip away, right?"

The King of Conquerors paused, clapping Waver on the shoulder with a broad hand, and laughed:

"But before the battle begins, let's enjoy the festival to the fullest first."

"Huh...? Huh!?"

"Come on, kid."

"Where to?" Dragged by the arm and practically pulled along, Waver couldn't help asking.

"To sign you up, of course."

"Huh...? I don't want to join. There's no way I can win."

"Kid, don't you want it? The Golden Apple."

"Of course I do, but I definitely can't win. Joining the competition is just a waste of time."

"If you want it, then enter the contest! No match's outcome is decided before it starts."

Elsewhere in the city, Archer's group.

"My king, might I ask you to hold off on moving against Caster until after the festival?"

Tokiomi Tohsaka stood respectfully before Gilgamesh, his posture and etiquette flawless, but inwardly he was prepared to use a Command Seal.

Though it happened suddenly, Nero's projection appeared quickly, so he had already grasped what was going on.

Servants were merely avatars of Heroic Spirits. A Servant's treasures could only be used by that Servant themselves—even if seized, they were useless.