I Don’t Want to Be a Heroic Spirit

When Kairi Shishigou began his story, Mordred initially displayed resistance.

But once he started speaking, Mordred grew quiet.

She wasn't foolish—she could tell that the magician in Kairi's story was none other than Kairi himself.

Yet she chose not to call him out, simply listening in silence.

"There are so many regrets in this world because people only realize what they truly want after they've lost it," Kairi said, his voice heavy.

"It wasn't until his daughter died in his arms that the magician realized… the family's legacy meant nothing compared to her happiness."

"But by the time he understood, it was too late. No amount of regret could bring his daughter back—and it was all because of his own blindness."

Wandering to find an heir? That was a lie, a complete fabrication.

Perhaps what Kairi truly sought was to end both his life and the cursed magic crest, ensuring it would no longer harm anyone else.

Or perhaps… he was searching for a way to bring his daughter back to life.

But he knew such a dream was nearly impossible—less likely than monkeys randomly typing out the entirety of Hamlet.

True resurrection of the dead… that was a feat beyond even magic itself.

He understood the futility of it. And yet… humans often cling to impossible dreams. That's just how they are.

"Saber…"

The story finished, but Kairi wasn't done. He turned to Mordred, his expression somber.

Even behind his sunglasses, Mordred could feel the intensity of his gaze.

"You've resolved your misunderstanding with Ruler, but only for now—only for this Holy Grail War."

"You're both Servants. When the war ends, you'll return to the Throne of Heroes. The memories of this war will be archived, inaccessible to you. The next time you and Ruler are summoned, neither of you will remember any of this."

"When that happens, she'll still be the King Arthur who doesn't understand human emotions, and you'll still be the Rebellious Knight. Nothing will have changed."

"If you want things to be different, the time is now, Saber."

His voice grew more impassioned with each word.

"Don't do something you'll regret for the rest of your existence!"

Was he saying this for Mordred's sake, or to his past self, the man who had failed to understand what truly mattered?

---

The first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon.

For Artoria, this early hour was nothing unusual. As someone who had studied in Chaldea, she was no stranger to running laps or reading under the first rays of sunlight.

She knew the Red Faction's base was a church, fitting for a Master like Amakusa Shirou Tokisada.

Beyond that, she had little information. The Black Faction hadn't been able to provide much detail.

Mordred's Master likely knew the location, but…

I forgot to ask him.

This realization left her feeling awkward.

Turning back now would be even worse—Mordred was surely back with Kairi by now, and after running away because she didn't know how to face her, returning would only compound the awkwardness.

Thankfully, as Ruler, Artoria's sensitivity to Servant presences was exceptionally sharp.

While she couldn't be certain about most of the Red Servants, she knew that Semiramis and Shakespeare were likely at their base, along with former Ruler Amakusa Shirou.

At least two stationary Servants would make it easier to pinpoint the location.

Indeed, it didn't take long.

From the sky, she detected traces of residual mana—leftover magic energy that hadn't yet dissipated.

After a moment of consideration, Artoria realized it was likely from Rider Achilles.

His Noble Phantasm, a chariot drawn by three divine horses, allowed him to travel great distances, even through the sky.

After the battle with the Black Faction, he must have used the chariot to escape, leaving behind these traces of mana.

"So, these remnants of mana should lead me to the Red Faction's base?"

Following the trail, Artoria descended into a dense forest.

She made no effort to conceal her presence—not because she couldn't, but because she wouldn't. Sneaking into their base might be effective, but it would also appear cowardly.

The pride of the King of Knights would not allow her to show weakness.

The eastern sun began to rise over the mountains, its light failing to pierce the forest's lingering darkness.

Artoria knew the Red Faction wouldn't welcome her warmly. Approaching so openly, she expected resistance.

Golden light radiated gently from her body, pushing back the darkness around her. She stood tall, a figure of divine grace like a goddess descending under the moonlight.

When she spoke, her voice was clear and melodic, like the song of a lark.

"I mean no harm. I only wish to speak with the Master of Red."

Two or three seconds passed before a voice emerged from the shadows ahead.

"The Master has no interest in meeting with you, Ruler."

A searing, sun-like presence entered Artoria's senses, unmistakable in its intensity.

"...Karna."

The voice belonged to Karna, but the aura she felt was even greater than before.

"What an awe-inspiring divinity… it feels like standing before the gods of Olympus," Artoria murmured.

Following Karna, Achilles appeared, his gaze smoldering with fervor. He gripped his spear tightly, his excitement palpable.

In addition to them, Artoria could sense another Servant nearby. Likely Atalanta, hidden and ready to strike from an unseen vantage point.

What an honor, Artoria thought wryly. Half of the Red Faction's Servants have come to block my path.

"So, are the three of you planning to fight me together?"

Her tone turned serious as her emerald eyes locked onto Karna's.

"I, too, would prefer a one-on-one duel with you, Ruler. You are a formidable opponent, and our previous battle was a source of great joy to me," Karna said, his tone carrying a hint of regret before firming with resolve. "But this is my Master's order. I cannot defy it. Alone, I cannot hold you back."

"Exactly!" Achilles chimed in, tightening his grip on his spear and flashing a wild grin. "I've never even met my Master, and honestly, I hate working with others. But hey, a good fight's a good fight. No point worrying about annoying details, right?"

---

Ahem! Gather close, esteemed audience! Do you comprehend the privilege of basking in my radiance? Truly, you're witnessing history in the making—a performance unparalleled in the annals of Fontaine!

Ah, but don't get distracted! Let me be clear: this brilliance isn't conjured from thin air. No, no, no! It requires effort, dedication, and… well, a touch of your generosity. If you fancy being part of something truly extraordinary, do step forward here: [patreon.com/WiseTL].

Oh, but wait! You're probably wondering, "Furina, how can someone as magnificent as you need assistance?" To that, I say: why deny mortals the honor of contributing to such greatness? Supporting me is supporting art, and who doesn't want to say they were instrumental in a legend's rise?

Now, off you go. Make your offerings, and perhaps, perhaps, I'll acknowledge you in my next soliloquy!

— Furina ✨