The march toward Orleans was less a military advance and more a slow-motion custody battle over my limbs.
To my left, Kiyohime had fused herself to my arm like a teal-colored tumor. She wasn't just holding me; she was attempting to merge our biomass through sheer compressive force.
"Anchin-sama," she purred, the heat from her body practically steaming the damp forest air.
"Your pulse is elevated. Is it the thrill of our proximity? Or perhaps you are overheating? Shall I cool you with a breath of ice? Or warm you further?"
"I'm fine," I muttered, staring dead ahead, trying to walk without dragging my left leg.
To my right, the situation was volatile.
Jack the Ripper was not skipping. She was stomping. Her cheeks were puffed out in a pout so severe it threatened to defy gravity.
She had her small arms wrapped around my right bicep, but instead of walking peacefully, she was using her leverage to actively hip-check Kiyohime every three steps.
"Move over!" Jack hissed, driving a small elbow toward the Berserker. "You're taking up all of Master! He's my Mommy! Get your scales off him!"
Kiyohime didn't even look down, simply absorbing the blows with Mad Enhancement indifference. "Children should walk in the back," she said airily. "The side is for the wife."
"I'm not a child! I'm an Assassin!" Jack growled, looking up at me with big, watery, furious eyes. "Master! Tell her! Tell her I'm the favorite! You pinched my cheeks! You fed me the egg! Why is she touching you?!"
I looked down at Jack. She looked like a child that had been denied a treat promised exclusive to them having to share with a sibling.
"You're both… equally heavy." I said feeling mentally drained dry...and NOT the bed kind
"Hmph!" Jack buried her face in my sleeve, aggressively wiping her nose on my uniform while glaring daggers at the dragon.
Ritsuka and Mash walked a safe distance ahead—traitors, both of them—while Emiya guarded the rear, likely pretending he didn't know us.
"Master." A deep, apologetic voice rumbled from behind me.
Siegfried fell into step on my left, forcing Kiyohime to tighten her grip territorially. The Dragonslayer looked… guilty.
His massive shoulders were hunched, his gaze fixed on the muddy ground as if he were personally responsible for the bad weather, the wyverns, and the concept of war itself.
"I… apologize," Siegfried murmured, gripping the hilt of Balmung.
I blinked, looking up at the towering hero. "For what? You haven't done anything."
"For… the discord," he gestured vaguely at the bickering girls attached to me.
"My presence… it is large. Clumsy. I distract the enemy, yes, but I also seem to create tension in the formation. And I cannot even assist you with your… burdens," he glanced warily at the hissing Jack and the fawning Kiyohime,
"without risking a diplomatic incident. I am… sorry. truly."
I stared at him.
Here was a legend. A man who had killed Fafnir, bathed in blood, and achieved invulnerability.
A hero sung about in sagas. And he was walking next to a glorified mechanic, apologizing for breathing too loudly.
In my old life—in the days of grinding FGO on a cracked phone screen in a dark apartment—he had been one of them. The favorites. The ones I grailed. The ones I saved for. Not the waifus. Not the meta-breakers...'not because I liked his casual wear or anything- yeah I liked his casual wear'
The bros.
'Karna. Muramasa. Arthur. And Siegfried. The guys who were just… cool.'
The guys who carried the weight without complaining. The guys who, if they were real, you just wanted to buy a beer and say, "Thanks."
And he was here. Apologizing to me.
I felt a lump form in my throat. The irritation at Kiyohime, the exhaustion from Jack's tantrums—it all just washed away for a second.
"Siegfried," I said, stopping in the middle of the path.
He stopped too, looking worried. "Yes, Master? Have I offended you? I can walk further back if—"
"No," I interrupted, shaking my head.
I managed to pry my hand free from Jack's death grip just enough to reach out. I placed my hand on his armored forearm.
I looked him in the eye, and for the first time since I arrived in this Singularity, my smile wasn't the same for the others
It was the smile of a fanboy meeting his hero, tempered by the gratitude of a tired man meeting a friend. It was pure, unadulterated appreciation.
"Siegfried," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "You're not a burden. You're the tank. You're the vanguard. You're the reason we aren't dragon chow right now."
Siegfried blinked, his stoic expression cracking. "But… I am prone to misfortune. I bring trouble."
"We're in a Singularity," I laughed, a soft, genuine sound. "Trouble is the baseline. Having you here? Standing next to me?" I squeezed his arm.
"It makes me feel safe, man. You're reliable. You're strong. And honestly? You're the coolest guy I know." I beamed at him. "I'm really, really glad you're my Servant, Siegfried."
Siegfried stared at me. His grey eyes widened slightly. He wasn't used to this. He was used to being a tool, a weapon, a tragic figure destined for betrayal.
He wasn't used to being looked at like he was… the best thing that happened to someone's day.
Slowly, the tension left his massive shoulders.
He stood up straighter. A small, rare, almost shy smile touched his lips.
"I see," he said softly. He placed a hand over his heart. "To be trusted… to be valued… it is a good feeling. Thank you, Master. I will not let you down."
It was a beautiful moment. A moment of genuine connection amidst the chaos of waifu wars and dragon fire.
I felt a single, hot tear of pure relief roll down my cheek.
'Finally', I thought. A normal interaction. 'A cool hero. Someone who just gets it. I love this guy.'
"AHA!"
The shriek shattered the moment like a hammer through glass.
Elizabeth Báthory popped up from behind a bush, pointing an accusatory, clawed finger directly at my face.
"LOOK!" she screamed, her tail thrashing with glee. "THE STALKER BROKE HIM!"
Kiyohime stiffened on my arm. "What?"
Elizabeth cackled, bouncing on her heels. "Look at him! He's crying! Anchin-sama is crying! You've finally done it, you clingy reptile! You squeezed the will to live right out of him!"
Kiyohime's head snapped toward me. She saw the single tear tracking down my cheek—the tear born of male bonding and relief.
Her face went pale. Then green. Then pale again.
"Anchin... sama?" she whispered, her voice trembling with horror.
"No, wait," I said quickly, realizing the danger. "It's not—"
"I hurt you," she gasped. Her pupils dilated, shaking. "I... I applied too much pressure. I didn't listen to the Archer. The physics... the leverage... I crushed the pelvis!"
She let go of my arm and dropped to her knees in the mud, her hands hovering frantically around my waist.
"The lineage!" she shrieked. "I CRUSHED THE LINEAGE!"
"No! No, you didn't!" I yelled, backing up, but Jack—still pouting—didn't move out of the way, and I tripped over her, falling flat on my back.
Kiyohime scrambled over me, her face a mask of medical panic. "I must inspect the damage! I must verify the structural integrity of the heir-factory!"
"The heir-factory is fine!" I screamed, kicking my legs as she reached for my belt buckle. "Kiyohime! BOUNDARIES!"
"There are no boundaries in emergency medicine!" she wailed, her hands hot and frantic. "If it is bruised, I will heal it! If it is flat, I will... I will inflate it with love!"
"DO NOT INFLATE ANYTHING!"
"Eww!" Jack yelled, looking down at us with a disgusted scowl. She pulled out a knife. "Get off him! You're being gross! Master is crying because he likes the Dragon-Man, not because of you!"
"Silence, child!" Kiyohime snapped, green fire leaking from her mouth. "This is a medical emergency! Siegfried! Help me hold him down!"
Siegfried looked at the scene. He looked at his hand, then at his Master, who had just called him cool, now being assaulted by a Berserker.
"I..." Siegfried murmured, looking pained and unsure. "I do not believe Balmung has a technique for... pelvic reconstruction."
"USE THE FLAT OF THE BLADE TO PRY HER OFF!" I screeched.
"Just let her check, puppy!" Elizabeth laughed, floating above us. "Maybe she'll find out you're smooth down there like a Ken doll! Then the wedding is off!"
"I AM NOT A KEN DOLL!"
Kiyohime's hands were dangerously close to the danger zone. Her eyes were spinning spirals. I was hyperventilating. My life flashed before my eyes—then, I saw it.
Through the gap in the trees, past Elizabeth's mocking face.
Grey stone walls. Black banners. The brooding silhouette of a castle rising from the smoke.
Orleans.
The home of the Dragon Witch. A fortress filled with Wyverns, Shadow Servants, and a woman who wanted to burn me to ash. It looked like paradise. It looked like safety.
"LOOK!" I screamed, pointing violently over Kiyohime's shoulder.
Kiyohime froze, her hand on my belt. "What? Is it a rival?! Is it another woman trying to steal the seed?!"
"THE CASTLE!" I yelled, scrambling backward on my elbows, kicking dirt in her face. "THE ENEMY IS RIGHT THERE! THEY'RE MOCKING US!"
Kiyohime turned her head, hair whipping around. She saw the castle.
"Mocking... us?" she hissed, her eyes narrowing into slits.
"Yes!" I lied, scrambling to my feet and hiding behind Siegfried's massive cape. "I heard them! They said... they said your love is lukewarm! They said you couldn't burn a piece of toast! They said you're a bad wife-"
The air temperature spiked. The ground around Kiyohime began to steam the moment bad wife came out.
She stood up slowly. Her kimono fluttered in an updraft of pure magical energy. She opened her fan.
"Lukewarm...bad wife?" she whispered. The word carried more threat than a nuclear launch code.
"Yeah!" I shouted, pointing at the city. "Go get 'em, honey! Show them what real love looks like! Burn the criticism!"
Kiyohime let out a roar that shook the leaves off the trees.
"INSOLENCE! I SHALL INCINERATE THEIR MOCKERY! I WILL ROAST THEM ALIVE FOR ANCHIN-SAMA!"
She took off running toward the city, a streak of teal and green fire, screaming about toast and devotion.
I sagged against Siegfried, gasping for air, clutching my belt.
"Master," Siegfried said, sounding impressed but concerned. "That was... effective. But are you injured?"
"I'm fine," I wheezed, adjusting my crooked glasses. "My dignity is dead, but the lineage is safe."
I looked down at Jack. She was still pouting, crossing her arms.
"She's crazy," Jack muttered. "Can I stab her later...she took master's dignity"
"Maybe later, Jack," I said, patting her head. "Maybe later."
I looked at the others. Ritsuka was staring at me with awe.
"Alright," I said, straightening my uniform and trying to look like a Master again. "The Berserker is the vanguard. Let's go save France before she melts the drawbridge."
We marched toward the city, leaving my dignity somewhere back in the mud, 'but at least I still had my favorite current Saber watching my back.'