Chereads / Fate/False Order / Chapter 37 - Vol 2. Chapter 15. What is a King?

Chapter 37 - Vol 2. Chapter 15. What is a King?

"Mongrels."

The sight of the golden servant brought with it an oppressive feeling, one of unbridled pride and unmistakable loathing for all within his sights.

The oppressive feeling was nothing to the two drinking kings, but for the young Magus standing a respectable distance away from the gathering, he couldn't stop his legs from trembling.

Saber's and Rider's expressions could not be different, as the Servant of the Sword frowned, while the Servant of Mounts gave a wide smile.

"You are late, Goldie! I was afraid that you had refused, but I see that you were late due to arriving here on foot!" Rider exclaimed while raising his ladle in greeting, spilling a few drops at the sudden action.

Archer fixed his cold eyes onto Rider, after his careless remark, causing Gilgamesh to frown with open displeasure.

Archer's crimson eyes narrowed at Rider's jovial greeting. "Such insolence," he muttered, his tone dripping with disdain. "To think I'd be summoned to this... rustic gathering."

Rider chuckled, unfazed by Archer's contempt. "Come now, Archer! One mustn't be so stiff. Join us; the night is young, and the wine flows freely."

He gestured to an empty seat at the table, but Archer remained standing, his golden armor gleaming under the soft lights of the garden.

Saber observed the exchange silently, her gaze steady. The tension between the two was palpable, but Rider seemed intent on diffusing it.

"Here," Rider said, filling a ladle with wine and offering it to Archer. "A toast to the gathering of kings!"

Archer glanced at the ladle with a raised eyebrow. "You expect me to drink this swill?" he scoffed.

Rider grinned. "It's a fine vintage from the local market. Surely a king of your stature isn't afraid to try new things?"

Archer's eyes flashed dangerously. "Know your place, mongrel," he said coldly. "But very well. I shall humor you, if only to show you the difference between a true king and pretenders."

He took the ladle, eyeing the liquid within before downing it in one swift motion. Almost immediately, his expression twisted into a grimace.

"This swill is something you consider worthy of kings?" Archer sneered, tossing the ladle back onto the table. "It barely qualifies as wine."

Rider laughed heartily. "Perhaps your palate is more refined than mine. But I have learned to appreciate the simple pleasures life can offer."

Archer's lips curled into a disdainful smirk. "Simple pleasures are for simple minds."

Without warning, a golden ripple formed in the air beside him. From the distortion emerged an ornate golden chalice filled with a shimmering, amber liquid. The air around it seemed to hum with a subtle energy.

"Behold," Archer announced, lifting the chalice. "This is the wine worthy of a king. Crafted by the gods themselves and kept within my treasury."

Rider's eyes widened with interest. "Now that's more like it!" he exclaimed. "Care to share?"

Archer regarded him coolly before setting the chalice on the table. "Consider it a lesson in true quality."

Another golden ripple appeared above the table, which expelled out three small golden chalices that slowly landed onto the table.

Rider didn't hesitate. He poured the divine wine into the summoned cups, passing one to Saber, who accepted it cautiously.

Saber studied the liquid, its aroma rich and intoxicating. She took a sip, and a warmth spread through her, unlike anything she'd experienced before.

"This... it's extraordinary," she admitted quietly.

Rider took a hearty gulp and let out an appreciative sigh. "Now this is a drink! My compliments, Archer."

Archer smirked, a satisfied gleam present in his eyes. "Perhaps now you understand the gulf between us."

At his words, a golden throne materialized behind him, which he smoothy sat down onto, causing a small smirk to blossom onto his face as he picked up his own cup.

Saber set her cup down, her expression hardening. "Bragging about your wealth doesn't make you a king," she said firmly. "A king's worth is measured by their actions, not their possessions."

Archer turned his gaze to her, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "And what would a little girl playing at king know of such things?"

Saber's eyes flashed with indignation. "Enough to recognize arrogance masquerading as authority."

"Now, now," Rider interjected, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "We're here to discuss the Grail, are we not? Let's not let tempers flare."

He leaned forward, his tone becoming more serious. "Archer, tell us—why do you seek the Holy Grail? As fellow kings, perhaps we can find common ground."

Archer sighed, swirling the wine in his cup. "The Grail is already mine," he stated matter-of-factly. "All treasures of the world originate from my vault. It's merely been misplaced over the ages."

Rider raised an eyebrow. "So you claim ownership over the Grail without even knowing its true nature?"

Archer smirked. "I don't need to know. If it is considered a treasure, it belongs to me by default."

Saber shook her head in disbelief. "Such arrogance. You speak as if the world revolves around you."

"Because it does," Archer replied smoothly. "I am the one true king. All others are mongrels, mere pretenders to the title."

Rider chuckled. "Bold words. But if the Grail is yours, would you be willing to part with it?"

"That depends," Archer said, eyeing Rider thoughtfully. "If you were to swear fealty to me, I might consider granting you a portion of my bounty."

Rider laughed outright. "Me, a vassal? I'm afraid that's impossible. A king must stand on his own."

"Then you remain a thief in my eyes," Archer said coolly. "And thieves must be punished."

"Perhaps," Rider conceded. "But I prefer to think of myself as a conqueror. If I desire something, I take it by my own strength."

Archer's gaze hardened. "Then we are at an impasse."

"Seems that way," Rider agreed, lifting his cup. "But tonight, we are simply three kings sharing a drink. The battlefield can wait."

Archer inclined his head slightly. "Very well. I suppose there's no harm in indulging a little longer."

Saber watched the exchange, her mind racing. These two men held views so vastly different from her own. She couldn't remain silent any longer.

"Rider," she began, turning to him. "You speak of conquest and taking what you desire. Do you truly believe that is the role of a king?"

Rider met her gaze evenly. "A king must be the embodiment of his people's will. For me, that means expanding horizons and seeking greatness."

"And at whose expense?" Saber pressed. "How many lives are lost for your ambition?"

Rider sighed. "Sacrifices are inevitable in the pursuit of greatness. But the glory we achieve endures."

Saber clenched her fists. "A king should protect their people, not use them as tools."

Archer chuckled softly. "Such naiveté. It's almost endearing."

She shot him a sharp look. "And you, Archer? What is your wish for the Grail?"

He leaned back, a smug expression on his face. "As I said, the Grail is mine. I have no need for wishes."

"Then why participate in this war?" she asked.

"To reclaim what is rightfully mine and to punish those who dare covet it," he replied.

Rider leaned forward, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "So you have no desire beyond possession?"

Archer's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Desire? Hmph. I am beyond such trivialities."

Rider stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Well, I, for one, seek the Grail to grant me true incarnation. To become flesh once more."

His statement brought shocked looks from the two Servants.

Saber looked at him in surprise. "You wish to return to the world of the living?"

He nodded. "Indeed. To walk the earth again, to experience life in all its richness, and to continue my quest."

Archer regarded him with mild interest. "And what would you do with such an opportunity?"

"Conquer the world, of course!" Rider declared with a confident smile and hearty laugh.

"Mongrel, you'd challenge me for something so small?" Gilgamesh exclaimed with disappointment, while fixing him with a gaze, as if looking at something unpleasant under his shoe.

"Hmm" Rider hummed, while closing his eyes, a small smile plastered on his face.

"Even if mana gives us form in this world, we still ultimately remain Servants," he said while reaching out with his hand, palm up.

Creaking open his eyes, he looked down at his palm with seriousness. "I want to be firmly rooted into this world as a living human," he said while clenching his fist. "And with a body of my own, I shall defy both heaven and earth! That is what conquest is all about!"

"It's how it begins, proceeds, and is finished!" He proclaimed, before grabbing his goblet, and emptying its contents down his throat. "Such is my path of conquest!"

Archer glanced at him and smirked, before pointing at him with the hand that held his goblet. "I've decided, Rider," he remarked while giving the King of Conquerors a pleased look.

"I shall kill you myself."

The threat only caused Rider to laugh heartily. "There is no need to point that out now," he remarked, before slightly tilting his head to look at the King of Heroes.

"I also intend to take that treasury of yours for myself, so be ready for that," he declared challengingly.

Saber watched the two with a twinge of disappointment present in her expression. "That's not how a king should be," she injected herself into the two's discussion, drawing both the Servant's gazes onto herself.

Rider slightly straightened himself up, and gave Saber an appraising look. "Hmm… Well then, let us hear what you wish for, then."

Saber gazed at the two with a practiced blank expression, letting the silence build for a moment, thinking over the past few days with her family, before revealing her wish.

"I wish for my homeland's salvation," her words caused the smile on Rider's face to falter, gaining a sour look. "With its omnipotent wish-granting device, I shall avert Britain's fate of destruction," she said with conviction.

Rider leaned back, placing his cup firmly on the table, as his eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he regarded Saber. "Hey, King of Knights. Did you just say that you would change fate? Does that mean you wish to change the past?"

"That's right," Saber didn't hesitate in responding to Rider's question. "Even if its a wish that a miracle cannot fulfill, the Grail is stated to be omnipotent, so I'm sure i–"

The sudden chuckles of Archer caused Saber to stop her sentence, and turn to look at the golden hero with trace amounts of anger.

"Uh, Saber…" Rider's words made Saber look back at him.

"I'm just making sure, but that Britain country fell during your time, during your rule, no?" Rider questioned neutrally.

Frowning slightly, the King of Knights nodded. "That's right. Which is why I can not accept it, and the reason I lament it," she said with conviction, before raising a hand over her heart. "I want to change how it all ended. Because it's none other than my responsibility!"

"Hahahaha…" Archer couldn't stand it any more, and started to laugh hard enough, for his upper body to shake.

Artoria frowned, and turned to the Servant who was laughing at her resolve. "Archer, what is so funny?" She spat out with a hint of hostility.

Archer barely stopped laughing, not caring to meet Saber's eyes. "She calls herself a king and is praised by everyone as such…" he let out another giggle. "Yet she says that she 'laments' it?!"

Archer couldn't help himself, and burst out in laughter. "How can I possibly keep a straight face?!" He exclaimed between chuckles.

Artoria could only frown at the arrogant king, before a soft voice caught her attention. "Saber…"

She turned to look at Rider, who's gaze was fixed on his drink. "Surely you aren't saying that you spurn the very marks you left on history?" He questioned firmly, before looking up at her, meeting the little girl's eyes.

Artoria straightened up. "I am! Why are you puzzled? Why do you laugh?" She said angrily.

Placing a gloved hand over her chest, she closed her eyes, while taking in a deep breath. "The country that gave me my blade, the country that I offered my life to, was destroyed," she bit out, before opening her eyes. "Why is it strange that I'd lament over that?"

Gilgamesh stopped his laughter, to tilt his head in Rider's direction, and looked at him. "Did you hear that, Rider? The naïve things this little girl, who calls herself King of Knights, is saying?!"

Archer scrunched his face, in a mock impression of Saber. "'The country I offered my life to', she says!" He ended his terrible impression of her, with a burst of laughter.

Having had enough of this mockery, Saber abruptly stood up, knocking her chair over, and slamming her hand on the table. "How is this funny at all?" She yelled.

"A king should make any sacrifice to ensure their country's prosperity!" She exclaimed assuredly, before glaring at Gilgamesh.

"No."

Saber's head snapped in Rider's direction, as his sudden remark.

She met a stone-faced man, who's eyes gazed at her with pity.

"The king should not sacrifice anything, it is the country and the people that should sacrifice themselves for the king. Absolutely not the other way around."

Saber looked taken aback, before frowning. "What? Those are the words of a tyrant!" She spat.

Rider was nonplussed, and continued calmly looking at Saber. "Exactly."

Closing his eyes, he took in a sharp breath. "We are heroes, because we are tyrants. However, Saber…" his eyes now opened, and fixed themselves onto her

"If a king regrets his rule or conclusion, that king is nothing but a fool. Someone worse than a tyrant," he explained harshly.

Saber looked down at him reproachfully. "Iskandar, your reign ended with your heirs slain, and your empire dissolved into three parts. And you have no regrets on how it ended?!" She all but yelled at him.

Rider's calm expression was calm, as if not caring about Saber's remarks. "None."

Artoria reeled back in surprise at his proclamation.

"If the end was brought about by my decisions and the way that my subjects lived, then I will accept its destruction as inevitable," he continued just as calmly. "Yes, I will grieve. Yes, I will shed tears. But I will never regret it."

Saber's eyes widened, looking at Rider with shocked eyes. "You —" "Let alone undo it!" Rider cut her off with an angry shout.

"Such a foolish act would only mock all who fought with me to build my empire!"

Saber clutched her hand, and gave Rider an indignant look. "Only brute warriors find glory in destruction! Of what worth is a king who fails to protect the powerless!"

Raising her arms to her sides, she looked down at Rider. "A just rule, with just laws, those are the true duties of a king!"

Rider tilted his head to the side. "So you… the king, are a slave to what is just?" He questioned calmly.

"I don't mind. A king should willingly die for their ideals," Saber bit back passionately.

Frowning, Rider picked up his goblet, and started sloshing around its contents. "That's not how a person should live," he remarked pensively.

"If I rule a country as a king, I cannot hope to live as a person," she said firmly, before taking a deep breath. "King of Conquerors."

"You seek the Grail merely for your own benefit, and as such you could never understand that! You who became a ruler only to satisfy your endless greed!"

Something within Rider must have snapped, as he slammed his goblet onto the table. "A King without greed is even worse than a figurehead!" He bellowed, a pronounced frown marring his face.

Saber took a step back at the sudden outburst.

"Saber…" Rider intoned gravely. "You said you would martyr yourself for your ideals... In life you must have been something akin to the purest of all saints, a proud and noble figure at the very least."

Shaking his head, he looked at Saber with sad eyes. "But who can truly admire the rough and thorny path that a martyr must follow in life?"

Leaning forwards, he looked at Saber. "Who actually dreams of such an ending?"

Saber was stunned, not knowing what to say or do at Rider's words, which seemed to echo the opinions of her knights.

"You see… A king... must be greedier than any other," his tone was gentle, as if talking to a child.

"He must laugh more loudly, and rage for much longer, while embodying the very extreme of all things, good and evil," his voice was picking up momentum, as he placed his elbow on the table, idly pointing a finger at Artoria.

"That is why his retainers envy his very existence, and adore him as well! And why the flames of aspiration, to be just as the king is, and burn within his people!" His last words came out as a shout, as if relaying the pride he felt.

Slightly shaking his head, he fixed his eyes on Artoria with pitying eyes.

"Proud king of chivalry," his tone was gentle once more. "The righteousness and ideals you embraced in life, may have indeed saved your nation, and her people, once."

Taking in a deep breath, he gained a sad smile. "However, surely you must know what became of those who were saved by you, but then were left to fend for themselves."

Saber looked stunned, and blurred out a question. "What are you saying?"

Rider stared at her, allowing a beat of silence to ensue before continuing.

"You may indeed have saved them, but you never lead them! You never showed them all what the king should really be!" Rider could only shake his head in pity.

"You abandoned your men when they lost their way, then alone and untroubled by that fact, you went on to follow your own pretty little ideals to the end!" He chastised her in a harsh tone.

His brows furrowed, as he looked directly at the shell shocked Servant. "Thus, you are no true king!"

"You spent your life enraptured by a false idol of a humble king, who always serves others…" Closing his eyes, he could only shake his head. "You're just a little girl…"

Saber lowered her head, not willing to look directly at Rider.

There were many things she wanted to say in retort. Yet, every time she opened her mouth, she could only see the site she witnessed at Camlann.

Bodies everywhere. The blood ran like a river. There lied her subjects, friends, and loved ones.   

As she pulled out that sword in the stone she knew about the prophecy. She knew that she was destined to fail, and she already understood.

But…why…

As she witnessed the sight personally, she felt surprised. She could do nothing else but pray.

Once a magus prophesied it was nearly impossible to go against fate. Yet, she still wondered if she could have a miracle.

A dangerous thought occupied Saber's thoughts.

If she wasn't England's savior, but rather a tyrant who ravished England…

The chaotic world would only become more chaotic. First, that was not her way of kingship. And no matter what perspective, she would never make that choice as Artoria.

But, if she really did that…in comparison to Camlann, which one was more tragic?

Saber's thoughts were stopped in their tracks as she heard a familiar chuckle. Raising her head, her eyes landed on Archer, who started laughing uproariously

"What are you laughing at, Archer!" She spat, her face showing great anger, at the arrogant king's actions.

Archer lowered his cup, and smirked at her. "Well, it's just that your anguished face was quite the sight to behold," he remarked with amusement.

Saber's expression became even more contorted, at Archer's remark.

"It's just like the face of a virgin deflowered in bed," he continued with his amused tone, before leaving forwards with a wicked smile. "Exactly what I like."

Invisible air formed in Saber's hands, and she scowled at Archer. "You bastard!"

But at the next moment, what made the other two change their expressions was not her threatening attitude.

Moments later, Waver felt something different in the surrounding air. Though unseen, he could feel an extremely heavy murderous intent pressing down upon him.

Strange white creatures emerged in the edges of the moonlit court. One after another, their pale visages bloomed like ghastly flowers. The paleness was the color of cold, dry bone.

Skull masks and black cloaks. The previously empty courtyard was slowly becoming surrounded by this eerie group.

"Assassin..." Saber muttered, eyes narrowing.

Assassin was not limited to the one slain near the Tōsaka residence.

The reality was, there were many Assassins—an unnaturally numerous number participating in this Holy Grail War.

They all wore masks and were clad in black robes, and their body sizes differed as well. Some were giants, some were slim, some were short like children, while others were women.

"...Is this is your doing? Archer?" Saber asked, her voice edged with suspicion.

Archer shrugged rather innocently. "Who knows? I have no need to understand the thoughts of mongrels."

Since this many Assassins were gathered here, their command could not have originated from just Kirei. Perhaps it was the plan of his mentor, Tokiomi?

Because Tokiomi had declared fealty to the King of Heroes, Archer grudgingly recognized him as a Master. However, what Tokiomi had done now was extremely displeasing.

Though Rider was the host of the banquet, Archer was the one who provided the wine.

So what on earth was the meaning of this?

This action would indirectly tarnish the reputation of the King of Heroes. Shouldn't Tokiomi be able to understand that?

"Mm... so much confusion!" Waver sighed rather desperately as he watched the opponents approach. Incomprehensible!

"This event has far exceeded the regulations and limits of the Holy Grail War," he muttered.

"What's the meaning of this?! Assassin appearing one after another... There was supposed to be only one Servant of each class!"

Watching the awkward expressions of their prey, the Assassins laughed evilly.

"You're correct. We are all acting as one Servant, and each individual is only a shadow of the whole," one of them hissed.

Waver could not comprehend that Kirei Kotomine's Assassin existed in such a strange manner.

"This could be bad," Saber gritted her teeth as she realized they had fallen into an unexpected trap.

A group of rabble that relied on their numerical strength—if confronting them in a frontal assault, there was no way Saber could lose. However, that scenario was limited to the situation only—if there was only Saber to fight the battle.

Right now, Saber had to protect those inside the castle. No matter how weak the Assassins were, they were exceptionally dangerous to humans.

With one strike of her sword, how many Assassins could Saber stop? No, the question was no longer how many she could stop. If she missed but one, that one might be able to enter the castle, and lay waste to Irisviel or Kiritsugu.

Right now, the question was not 'Could she stop them?' but 'With one blow, could she stop all of them at once without blowing up the castle?' And with the number of Assassins surrounding them now, it was incredibly hopeless.

However, from the Assassins' perspective, this strategy was their final resort.

Even though they fought in a group, this group was still limited in numbers. Sacrificing the most, exchanging for small amounts of survivors—this method of victory was equivalent to a suicidal charge, which is why it was only reserved for final battles.

Assassin, as a Servant, wanted the Holy Grail as well. They could not stand the fact that they were merely chess pieces in Tokiomi and Archer's game—but they were unable to resist the Command Seal.

For tonight's operation, Kotomine Kirei used a Command Seal. The order was "Victory, no matter the cost." The Command Seal was an absolute order to Servants, and thus, they could only follow it.

Though it made them feel happy that Saber was disturbed and fearful, in reality, she was not their target.

Their target was Rider's Master.

Even though Rider had a powerful Noble Phantasm, its destructive powers were unidirectional.

If Assassin attacked from all sides, they should... no, they must be able to strike at the wimpy, short Master.

Yes, for the King of Conquerors, Alexander, it was a precarious moment.

But... why was the large Servant still drinking happily, as if nothing had happened?

"...Ri—Rider, oi, OI...," Waver stammered, his voice tinged with panic.

Despite Waver's distress, Rider remained unfazed. He scanned the Assassins around him, his expression still quite even.

"Hey, kid, don't panic. It's just a few new guests to the banquet," Rider said with a chuckle.

"How in the world do they look like guests?!" Waver protested, eyes wide with disbelief.

Rider laughed wryly and sighed, then greeted the Assassins that surrounded him with an idiotic calmness.

"Fellows, could you relax a little and cut down on the creepiness? As you can see, you're scaring our friends."

Saber thought she had heard him wrong. This time, even Archer's brows creased.

"King of Conquerors. Are you trying to invite them as well?" Archer inquired, a hint of irritation in his voice.

"Of course. The king's words should be heard by everyone, so if someone showed up to listen, it doesn't matter if they're friend or foe," Rider said calmly as he scooped a ladle of the red wine from the barrel and offered it to the Assassins.

"Here, don't be shy—if you want to drink with me, there are cups over there. This wine is as your blood."

A sharp sound sliced through the air, answering Rider's invitation.

Only the handle of the ladle remained in Rider's hand; the spoon part had been severed and clattered onto the ground. This was the work of one of the Assassins. The wine splashed onto the courtyard floor.

"..."

Rider lowered his head and stared wordlessly at the spilled wine soaking into the earth. The skull masks laughed in derision.

"Did you hear what I said wrongly?" Rider's words were calm, but his tone had unmistakably changed. The only ones able to detect this shift were the two who had been drinking with him before.

"I said, 'This wine is as your blood,' right? So if you insist on spilling it... So be it!"

At that moment, a whirlwind roared to life.

The wind was scorching hot and dry, as if it wanted to consume everything. It didn't feel like a breeze from the evening forest or the castle's courtyard—it seemed to come from a vast desert.

Waver spat as he tasted sand in his mouth. Sand! It was really sand that the strange wind brought. Such hot sand had no place here.

"Saber, and Archer, the last question of the banquet—must the king be alone in his kingship?" Rider shouted as he stood in the center of the raging desert wind. His cape billowed atop his shoulders. Somehow, he had already changed back into the proper garb of the King of Conquerors.

Archer's mouth curled into a snigger. There was no need to answer; his silence spoke volumes.

Saber did not hesitate either. If her own beliefs were shaken, it would be a flat denial of her days spent as king.

"A king... has no choice but to be alone!" she declared firmly.

Rider laughed. As if responding to his mirth, the whirlwind grew stronger.

"No, you don't understand at all! That answer is almost as good as having no answer! Let me teach you two today what it means to be a true king!"

A sudden gust of scorching wind swept through the courtyard, carrying with it grains of hot sand that seemed entirely out of place in the moonlit night. The atmosphere shifted dramatically, the air itself humming with an unfamiliar energy.

Waver spat out sand, his eyes wide with disbelief. "This... this can't be..."

The very fabric of reality around them began to waver, distances stretching and contracting as if the world itself was being rewritten. The Einzbern castle faded from view, replaced by an endless expanse of desert under a blazing sun.

"A Reality Marble?" Waver whispered in awe, recognizing the phenomenon only a skilled magus could comprehend.

The sky above was an unbroken blue, the horizon a shimmering line where the sand met the heavens. Not a single cloud marred the vastness, and the heat was palpable.

"How can this be? To manifest one's inner world so completely... But you're not a magus!" Waver exclaimed, turning to Rider.

Rider stood tall amidst the dunes, his regal attire fluttering in the blazing breeze. A proud smile spread across his face. "Indeed, I am not. This is not a feat accomplished by me alone."

He gestured expansively to the desert around them. "This is the land my companions and I once traversed. It lives on in the hearts of all who marched with me, a shared memory given form."

As the landscape solidified, the positions of those present shifted. Rider now stood apart, facing the Assassins who had been surrounding them moments before. Saber, Archer, and Waver found themselves at a distance, as spectators to the unfolding scene.

But Rider was not alone.

Shimmering figures began to materialize in the distance behind him—first a few, then dozens, then hundreds. Illusorily at first, their forms grew more distinct with each passing moment.

"This world exists because it resides within all of us," Rider declared.

Fully armored soldiers on mighty steeds emerged from the mirage, each bearing unique weapons and emblems. Their fierce gazes and battle-hardened stances spoke of countless campaigns fought alongside their king.

Waver's breath caught in his throat. "They... they're all Servants!"

He realized that he was witnessing Rider's true Noble Phantasm, the culmination of his power.

"Behold, my unmatched army!" Rider's voice boomed across the desert. "Ionian Hetairoi"

"Their bodies may have perished, but their spirits answer my call! These are the legendary heroes, my loyal companions who defy time and space to fight by my side once more!"

"They are my greatest treasure, the proof of my kingship! Together, we are invincible!"

Even Archer, the King of Heroes, raised an eyebrow at the sight. Saber stood speechless, her usual composure shaken.

These warriors had pledged themselves to Rider's dream, following him even beyond death. Their unwavering loyalty had become a Noble Phantasm in its own right.

Saber felt a pang deep within her. It wasn't the might of the army that unsettled her, but the realization of what true kingship meant to Rider. His bond with his followers was something she had yearned for but never truly achieved.

Rider mounted a magnificent horse that galloped up to him—a steed as legendary as the king himself.

"Good to see you again," he murmured, patting its neck affectionately.

The assembled heroes began to pound their weapons against their shields, a rhythmic thunder that resonated across the sands.

"A king must live greatly!" Rider's voice carried over the din. "He must be the beacon that his people admire!"

"He gathers the hopes of the brave, marching ever forward towards his dream! That is what makes a king! Therefore—"

"The king is never alone! For his wishes are our wishes!" the warriors shouted in unison.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Their voices merged into a powerful chorus that seemed to shake the very desert.

The Assassins, once so confident in their numbers, now quivered before the overwhelming force. Some began to retreat, others stood paralyzed by fear.

Rider's eyes hardened as he looked upon them. "You spurned my hospitality and insulted the sanctity of this gathering. Now, you face the consequences."

He pointed his sword towards the cowering Assassins. "As you can see, I prefer open battlefields. If it's numbers you rely on, I'm afraid you're outmatched."

The Assassins had lost all sense of their mission. The Command Seal's compulsion faded in the face of sheer terror.

"Charge!" Rider commanded.

"AAAAAAALaLaLaLaLaie!" his army roared, surging forward like an unstoppable tide.

The Assassins scattered like leaves in a storm as the thundering hooves of Rider's army bore down upon them.

Some tried to flee, their black cloaks billowing behind them like tattered shadows against the golden sands.

Others stood their ground, daggers drawn, their masked faces betraying no emotion.

But courage mattered little in the face of such overwhelming force.

One Assassin leaped forward, aiming his blade at a charging warrior.

The cavalryman deftly parried the strike with his spear, the clash of metal ringing out sharply.

With a swift motion, he unseated the Assassin, who tumbled into the sand only to be trampled under the relentless advance of more hooves.

Another Assassin attempted to scale a dune to gain higher ground, but an arrow found its mark, piercing through the skull mask and ending his ascent abruptly.

The desert echoed with the sounds of battle cries and the harsh clang of weapons meeting futile resistance.

Rider's companions fought with practiced unity, their movements a seamless dance of lethal efficiency.

A group of Assassins formed a tight circle, backs pressed together as they were encircled by mounted warriors.

In a synchronized maneuver, the cavalry closed in, lances lowered. The circle broke apart under the assault, each Assassin falling in turn, their forms dissolving into wisps of darkness upon defeat.

Amidst the chaos, Rider himself took charge.

Mounted on Bucephalus, he charged through the fray, his sword cleaving through any foe daring enough to cross his path.

An Assassin lunged at him from the side, twin blades poised to strike. Rider met the attack head-on, deflecting the daggers with a single sweep of his blade before delivering a decisive blow that sent the masked figure crumpling into the sand.

The Assassins' numbers dwindled rapidly, their earlier confidence erased by sheer terror.

Those who remained attempted one last, desperate assault, converging on Rider in a bid to overwhelm him.

But before they could reach him, a wall of shields intercepted them.

Rider's soldiers pushed forward, locking the Assassins into a tight space where escape was impossible.

Swords flashed, and one by one, the Assassins fell until none were left standing.

It was over in moments. The desert fell silent as the last echoes of battle faded.

The warriors raised their weapons in triumph, shouting praises to their king. One by one, they faded from sight, returning to the realm of legends.

The desert landscape dissolved, and the courtyard of the Einzbern castle reappeared under the gentle glow of the moon.

Silence hung heavy in the air. The three Servants and Master found themselves back where they had started, as if nothing had happened. Only the broken ladle on the ground served as a reminder.

"Well, that was underwhelming," Rider said quietly, taking a sip from his cup.

Archer smirked, though a hint of irritation flickered in his eyes. "You certainly know how to put on a show, Rider. Though dealing with such riffraff hardly seems worth the effort."

Rider chuckled. "Perhaps. But a king must address all challenges, no matter how small."

He stood up, stretching his arms. "I believe our banquet has come to an end."

Saber clenched her fists, her gaze fixed on Rider. "Wait. We're not finished here."

Rider glanced at her, his expression turning serious. "There's nothing more to discuss. Tonight was a meeting of kings, but I no longer acknowledge you as one."

"Are you still mocking me?" Saber demanded, her voice rising.

He shook his head sadly. "No, I'm offering you advice. The path you're on leads only to sorrow. Let go of that illusion you cling to before it consumes you."

Before she could respond, Rider drew his sword and swung it through the air. With a rumble of thunder, his chariot appeared, drawn by mystical bulls.

"Come on, kid," he called to Waver. "Time to go."

Waver snapped out of his daze. "R-right," he stammered, scrambling onto the chariot.

Rider gave Saber one last look. "Consider my words, little king. A king's strength comes not from solitude, but from those who stand beside him."

As Rider was about to crack the reins, a soft bout of hands clapping, caused him to stop his action.

"The night is so young, Rider. Are you sure that you should leave so soon?" A familiar female voice caused all Servants and Master to look to the sky.

There, like on the first day she had appeared, floated Caster, while giving a round of mock applause.

"I must commend you on your take on Saber's rule, I am sure her older sister would have approved," she commented idly, while wearing a sly smirk.

"Caster…" Saber ground out, while glaring balefully up at the Servant.

Seeing her gaze, she stopped clapping. "I don't like that look… if only there was someone else who had as much dislike for me, as they had for you…" She said while idly tapping her chin

"Oh wait!" She exclaimed, before looking directly at Saber.

"There is!"

And with a snap of her finger, a red glow emitted from under her sleeve, and a small red portal opened up.

Abruptly, a dark shadowy form fell out of it, slamming into the courtyard, creating a small crater.

"I hope you don't mind that I brought a friend?" She said with unmasked amusement.

Before anyone could speak, the shadow clawed itself out of the hole it fell into.

The shadowy knight straightened up to his full height, and stared at Saber, who still wore a black suit. "AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHUUUURRRRRRRRRR!!!!!"

102 Hours, 44 Minutes And 25 Seconds Until Zero 

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A/N

Welcome back, my reader Overlords, please add this to your library and give me some comments, stones and Reviews, as it would be much appreciated.

Banquet of kings has ended! Or at least for the most part...Are you happy? Did I do it justice for the most part?

What do you think about the end? Ready for round 2?

I thought that splitting this into two parts was too cruel for you all, so I decided to have the banquet in an all in one chapter... which was like 6K words long, so be happy!

Now, give me your thoughts on the chapter, and tell me what you'd like to see!

Btw, I have made a Discord server for the fic, come on and chat with me!

https://discord.gg/8UkprnrG

Now I'm tired and have a fuck tone of Uni stuff to do, so have a nice day, and send me some stones or some shit, I need motivation, or some shit like that.