Tipsy

"Caster's Master, judging by the look of you, I take it you've taken care of everything?"

Rider's booming voice drew Wang Xiaoming's attention back to the banquet. Only then did he notice something—

Everyone was looking at him, whether they were Rider, Saber, Archer, or their Masters.

"How dare you keep a king waiting for you to speak, mongrel? You've got quite the nerve."

"Caster's Master..."

Unusually, Rider lowered his voice, yet somehow managed to sound imposing without being angry. "Though we've accepted your right to sit among kings, repeatedly offending a king's dignity is another matter."

"My apologies."

Wang Xiaoming lowered his head to show his regret. Rider's meaning was clear: three strikes and you're out. A king's patience wasn't something that could withstand endless wear and tear.

"Good. Since you understand, tell us what you wish for."

"Huh?"

Though he hadn't yet recovered from the prospect of losing a friend, Wang Xiaoming still froze at the out-of-place line.

"What? Was I not clear enough?"

Seeing Wang Xiaoming stare at him, Rider stroked his short beard and rephrased what he meant.

"Caster's Master, since Caster has shown you the courtesy due to a subordinate, let me ask you: why do you seek the Holy Grail?"

"Oh, that's what you meant."

Wang Xiaoming breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, he'd really thought some half-wit had wandered into the scene.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. There was no reason to hide anything from the heroes gathered here. Better to simply say it outright.

"I just want to survive until the end of the Holy Grail War."

"Of course you can't expect much from an ant. I'm not surprised to hear such a lowly wish from you." Archer leisurely took a sip of the red wine in his goblet before saying this.

"That's enough, Archer!"

Surprisingly, it wasn't Wang Xiaoming or Medea who objected, but Saber, standing to the side.

"Listening to you, you sound less like a king and more like a swaggering clown!"

Saber hadn't found a chance to interject during Archer and Rider's conversation. The kingship they discussed was so far removed from the principles she believed in that she had nothing to say to either of them.

So, in Saber's eyes, the two men grandly holding forth before her—

Weren't worthy kings at all. They were nothing but tyrants.

That was why Saber couldn't help speaking up when Archer mocked Wang Xiaoming.

Archer looked at Saber, who was bristling with hostility, and couldn't help but sneer.

"And what kind of saint are you supposed to be?"

The atmosphere, once calm, now felt like a powder keg on the verge of ignition. Just as Saber and Archer faced off, Rider suddenly spoke.

"Enough, you two. This is getting tedious."

He raised both hands with a wry smile, trying to defuse the situation. After giving Saber, who still looked ready to speak, a meaningful glance, he continued:

"Since Caster's Master has already stated his wish, then this beautiful lady..."

Rider turned his gaze to Irisviel.

"And little Master..."

His gaze shifted to Waver.

"Why don't you tell us what you're after, too?"

"I..."

Waver scratched his cheek, fidgeting as though he was embarrassed to speak.

"Kid, as my Master, you're making me lose face with that attitude!"

Rider gave Waver's thin frame a hearty slap, his tone somewhere between a tease and a scolding.

"I know, I know!"

Waver nearly stumbled. His face flushed as he glared at Rider and shouted in a sulky voice:

"I just want to prove myself! I want Professor Kayneth to see that I'm not as unsuited to pursuing magecraft as he says!"

After saying this, Waver squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the Heroic Spirits to laugh at his insignificant wish. But the scene he'd imagined never came. Instead, he felt a hand settle on his shoulder.

Waver opened his eyes and saw his Servant, Rider, patting him on the shoulder in encouragement.

"There's nothing shameful about your wishes or ambitions. As my vassal, you can speak openly about what you want."

"Who wants to be your vassal..." Waver turned his face away and muttered under his breath. Rider had already turned his attention to the silver-haired beauty across from him.

"Now then, beautiful lady..."

"My reason for participating in the Holy Grail War is very simple..."

Irisviel smiled faintly. From what she'd observed, Rider was indeed an upright Servant. She didn't need to worry about him resorting to underhanded tricks.

"To win the Holy Grail for Kiritsugu and make his wish come true."

"Who is Kiritsugu?"

"My beloved."

Irisviel's frankness clearly earned Rider's approval. Stroking his chin, he said with a sigh, "What a perfect wife. Your beloved must be very happy."

"That's what I want, too."

Happiness brightened Irisviel's smile.

As a creation made by human hands, a woman born as a Homunculus, she had once been someone with no connection to happiness. No one had ever thought to give her such a feeling.

Irisviel had never expected it, either. Created and raised as a doll, perhaps she hadn't even understood the meaning of the word happiness before.

Though she was only a doll, she was now smiling radiantly.

She had been born to bear the Einzberns' long-held ambition. But after meeting that man, her colorless, empty life had gradually filled with color.

She became a woman who knew love, and then a mother...

And she learned of the man's weighty ideals.

Because she knew the ideals her beloved pursued, Irisviel carried the same prayer in her heart.

She had been born for the same ideal, and would be sacrificed for it. Only in this way could she become the other half of this man. This was how Irisviel loved.

So—

I won't hand the Holy Grail's vessel I'm safeguarding to anyone. Once the Grail is full, you're the only one worthy of having it.

—Kiritsugu

"Then there's..."

Rider's gaze shifted between the only two people present who hadn't yet spoken.

"My Master's wish is my own."

Before Rider could ask, Medea spoke first. At once, Wang Xiaoming noticed several inquisitive, gossiping gazes turn his way, making him uncomfortable.

"I see. You're quite an interesting pair."

Rider withdrew his curious gaze from Wang Xiaoming, then raised a finger and began summing things up.

"Archer is participating according to his own principles; I'm here because of my own convictions; little Master wants to prove himself; and this beautiful lady is here for love. As for Caster's Master, I'd say he's acting on instinct."

Rider gave Wang Xiaoming an inquisitive look. When Wang Xiaoming nodded in confirmation—

"Then there's only you left—"

Rider focused his gaze on Saber again.

"Hey, Saber, why don't you tell us what you wish for?"

Without the slightest change in her expression, Saber lifted her head and met everyone's eyes.

"I want to save my homeland. I want to change Britain's fate and prevent its downfall."

P.S. The book goes on sale this Friday. I absolutely won't miss the deadline!

Book recommendation, book recommendation~

My Youth Story Is Only Loneliness

Synopsis: "What is life to me?"

"Loneliness. Not family affection, nor romantic love, but walking alone down the road, bearing the burden called the self."

"People can only rely on themselves."

The protagonist has a very... distinctive personality, haha.

Feel free to check it out~

Tipsy

"I want to save my homeland. I want to change Britain's fate and prevent its downfall."

"..."

The banquet should have been lively, but for the first time, an eerie silence fell over it.

Wang Xiaoming lifted his glass of red wine and watched the subtle expressions on Rider's and Archer's faces. He felt his attention sharpen slightly.

"The main event's finally here."

He'd suggested joining Rider's banquet partly because he wanted to witness this scene.

"—Tell me, King of Knights, did I hear you wrong?"

Rider was the first to break the silence. For some reason, he looked puzzled.

"You mean to 'change fate'? In other words, overturn history?"

"That's right. No matter how impossible a wish may seem, the omnipotent Holy Grail can grant it—"

Saber's firm words chilled the atmosphere.

Medea glanced up at Wang Xiaoming, who remained calm. When she saw the inscrutable, strange smile at the corner of his mouth, she understood.

It seemed he had accounted for this situation, too.

Whatever Medea might have thought, the heavy atmosphere at the banquet remained.

"Saber, let me make sure I understand. The country called Britain fell during your era—while you were ruling it?"

"That's right! So I can't forgive myself."

It seemed the others' reaction had taken Saber by surprise. Even her explanation grew slightly more urgent.

"That's why I can't accept it. I want to change that outcome! It was because of me that things ended that way..."

A burst of laughter suddenly erupted beside her.

It was an unrestrained, rude, even vulgar laugh—and it came from Archer's twisted mouth.

Medea's expression darkened at the vulgar laughter.