"Guardian?"
Following Shirou's gaze, everyone quickly realized whom he was referring to.
The Guardian in question was none other than Arthur.
"What…? You're not a Heroic Spirit… but a Guardian?"
Shock rippled through the group. Everyone present knew exactly what that title implied. Heroic Spirits were remembered as legends, icons embodying the glory of past eras. Guardians, however… they carried a dark reputation. They were not called to protect or inspire, but to execute. To act as merciless instruments of the Contract, reaping lives without question, fulfilling missions that always boiled down to a single word: kill.
"You're here for me as well, Mr. Guardian?" Shirou asked, his tone equal parts ironic and challenging.
Arthur merely smiled at the question, as if the priest's words were no more than whispers carried by the wind.
Until that moment, Shirou had focused all his attention on Jeanne. She was the immediate obstacle—the Ruler embodying impartiality and justice. But now, faced with the enigmatic Arthur, he could no longer ignore him. There was something about this man that exuded a presence even more unsettling than Jeanne's.
In a sense, Arthur was more dangerous than the Ruler herself.
"Unlike her… as a Guardian, you should know the whole story, right? That means you've known everything I've been doing from the start, hasn't it?" Shirou pressed.
"Indeed," Arthur replied without hesitation.
"And you agree with my line of thought?" Shirou asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Of course not," said Arthur, his voice calm but firm.
Shirou tilted his head slightly, as if he had predicted that answer, yet still he could not hide his frustration.
"Then why didn't you stop me?"
Arthur let out a brief, disdainful laugh.
"Because it would be less interesting if I did."
The silence that followed weighed heavily on everyone present. Then Arthur added coldly:
"No matter the circumstances, the outcome is immutable."
Shirou's eyes flared with intensity.
"Really…? That's what you think? Gilgamesh… King of Uruk?"
"Without a doubt," Arthur replied, maintaining his smile, as if stating the most natural fact in the world.
In that moment, Shirou understood: there was no reason to waste words with this man. Arthur had made himself his enemy with absolute clarity. Shirou had more pressing matters to attend to.
He turned to Caster.
"Avicebron… would you be willing to join our side?"
"Why me?" The Caster did not refuse immediately. Instead, his voice echoed coldly, cautious, yet tinged with something deeper—temptation.
As one of Darnic's closest Servants, Avicebron was well aware of the Black Faction's power… or at least, he thought he was. But now, after so many reversals, after losing two powerful Servants and with a Guardian at their side, his certainties began to unravel.
If Arthur was not on their side, that meant Mordred would not be either. And in that case, the scales would tip to the opposite side in mere moments.
However, Avicebron did not accept immediately. Bargaining was essential.
"Because I believe our goals do not conflict," Shirou said with a calm smile. "We can cooperate. If your wish is truly what I suspect… then it does not matter if you fail to obtain the Holy Grail."
A moment of silence followed. Avicebron lowered his gaze, reflecting, until finally he declared:
"I have a condition."
"Please, speak it. I will do my best to fulfill it," Shirou said confidently.
"I have no objection to accepting you as my Master. But… allow me to deal with my former Master. In other words… do not harm him."
Shirou nodded immediately, without hesitation.
"I understand."
Semiramis, who had been observing everything, chuckled softly.
"Oh, such a loyal Servant… willing to sell himself for the safety of his Master? Charming."
Her words weighed on the air. Mordred intervened.
"Caster… what are you doing?"
Mordred's face held a predatory grin, barely restraining the urge to tear the Caster apart. From the moment she arrived, Arthur had asked her to hold back, but it was proving difficult.
"I admire your strength, and the strength of your Master," Avicebron declared, glancing briefly at Arthur. "But this concerns my own ambitions. And for them… I am willing to abandon my dignity and be scorned by the world."
Arthur narrowed his eyes. He had expected betrayal sooner or later, but hearing the confession still disturbed him.
"Really?" Arthur asked, his calm voice hiding a spark of disdain.
Shirou wasted no time.
"Then please, extend your hand."
Avicebron obeyed without hesitation, extending his right hand. Shirou grasped it firmly and began reciting the contract oath.
"Stop, Caster!"
Chiron fired a shining arrow, swift as lightning. But Karna immediately intervened, spinning his spear with flawless precision. The projectile was deflected, slicing the air before shattering against the ground.
Karna cast a serious glance at Chiron.
"In the Holy Grail War, Masters can command us with Command Seals… but we, Servants, also have the right to choose. Though I do not know who his Master was, his decision must be respected."
With that, the contract was sealed.
"I recognize you as my Master, Shirou Amakusa Tokisada," declared Avicebron.
Instantly, his aura shifted. The bonds that had tied him to his former Master dissolved like smoke, replaced by a new link.
"Without further delay… surround them," Shirou ordered.
"Understood, my Master," Avicebron replied serenely.
He snapped his fingers, and as if the very environment had come to life, dozens of golems emerged from the walls, the floor, and shadows. Creatures of stone and clay formed instantly, moving with astonishing speed.
Soon, Jeanne, Chiron, Arthur, and Mordred were surrounded on all sides.
"Although this method is unworthy and not my original ideal…" Shirou said, his voice cold and solemn, "you are formidable obstacles. Therefore, you will be eliminated here."
At the same time, Avicebron snapped his fingers again.
Like a furious tide, the golems advanced in unison, only to be immediately destroyed by several golden swords fired from the Gate of Babylon.
"Chiron, Jeanne… handle Avicebron, Semiramis, and Shirou Amakusa," Arthur's voice rang out firmly, his confidence bordering on arrogance.
He stepped forward, making a commanding gesture as he opened the Gate of Babylon and drew a pair of golden swords.
"Mordred," Arthur turned his face, smiling nonchalantly. "Achilles and Atalanta are yours."
Achilles narrowed his eyes, and Atalanta furrowed her brow; his words were practically an insult. Even Karna, usually composed, allowed a faint frown to escape.
Was this a provocation? Was Arthur truly belittling Achilles and Atalanta? Or did he simply have absolute confidence in his Servant?
The silence stretched unbearably long until Jeanne's voice broke it.
"You… can handle him alone, Arthur?" she asked, unable to hide her concern. Her eyes fixed on Arthur's serene, almost challenging smile.
Arthur twirled one of the golden blades between his fingers and lifted his chin, as if doubt itself were an insult.
"Have more confidence in me, girl," he said, his voice radiating near-overwhelming certainty. "I will not lose."
Those simple words, paired with that luminous, confident smile, struck Jeanne like an arrow to the heart. For reasons she could not understand, her chest raced, blood pumping hot through her veins.
'Why am I… feeling this way?'
And then, a dangerous thought blossomed in her mind: could Laeticia have fallen for him?
Jeanne shuddered. She knew it was not an impossible hypothesis. After all, Laeticia—the young French girl whose body she inhabited—did not sleep during the possession. She was awake, aware, observing and feeling every moment, every word, every smile.
If Laeticia were touched by that feeling, Jeanne would inevitably feel it too. The possibility left her stunned.
She shook her head, trying to banish the confusion threatening to undermine her focus.
"I-I understand!" she replied, slightly flustered, biting her lip without realizing. "I leave it to you, Gil!"
Arthur chuckled softly, as if he had no doubts about the outcome.
"Good luck, King," Quiron added, his voice calm but tinged with discreet reverence.
Without hesitation, Jeanne and Chiron advanced, running toward Shirou, Avicebron, and Semiramis.
"You may go free, Mordred," Arthur said to her.
"Finally!!" She roared with joy, immediately rushing at Achilles and Atalanta.
---
(End of chapter)
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."
Finally, I am back