"Since you already know you cannot win against me, why not sit down and talk?" Satsuki said, pouring herself another cup of tea. "Since this banquet is a feast of kings, how could it be complete without me?"
On the other side, Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, sighed when he saw that Satsuki had not pressed the attack further. As a Servant, he ought to protect his Master's safety and withdraw at once. But as a king, he could not disgrace himself by fleeing the scene. And deep down, he knew: even as the fastest Rider, he had no chance of escaping her grasp.
Sliding his sword, Via Expugnatio, back into its sheath, he strode into the center of the courtyard. Still, he left Waver safely behind upon the Gordius Wheel.
The King of Heroes, Gilgamesh, too, lost his will to strike after Satsuki's words, sitting aside in silence, brooding over something unseen. At his side stood Ritsuka Fujimaru, Mash, and Fou.
Thus, the only one able to converse with Satsuki was the King of Knights, sheltered by the Sword of Promised Victory.
"The legendary Māra… you claim the title of a king as well?"
Satsuki blew gently across the surface of her teacup before answering: "Compared to you—rulers who command nations and gaze across the world—it hardly counts. Strictly speaking, I am more of a rebel. That place was nothing but a prison, drawn around the land my ancestors created for themselves. When I became its ruler, I looked about—and the entire kingdom had been reduced to myself alone. (Toneri Ōtsutsuki was not even worth my gaze.)"
"The last king…"
Hearing this, Artoria, the King of Knights of Britain, seemed to resonate with her words. Though her body remained taut beneath the unintentional pressure radiating from Satsuki, she seated herself with composure befitting her stature. Of course, it was not without confidence in the protection of Avalon.
Yet Satsuki turned the topic elsewhere.
"Gilgamesh, I've heard that every treasure in this world, in theory, belongs to you?"
Though Archer no longer had the will to strike at Satsuki, his pride as a Heroic Spirit and as a king would not allow him to falter. Especially not before Ritsuka and Mash—before the only two subjects he acknowledged in this age. He would not show them weakness. He would show them a king worth following.
"Of course! All treasures in the world originate from my vault. Though time has scattered them from my treasury, they remain mine by right."
"So you mean, you once possessed the Holy Grail? Do you know what it truly is?"
The question came from the boisterous Rider. After a cup of wine, even the immense pressure Satsuki had brought earlier seemed to lift slightly from him.
"No."
Archer dismissed Rider's probing. "It is beyond your understanding. My wealth exceeds even the bounds of my own comprehension. But so long as it is a 'treasure,' then by definition it belongs to me. That is clear enough."
"Oh, is that what you believe? That merely owning the vault makes you master of all within it?"
Satsuki glanced at Gilgamesh indifferently. "Then what of me, Māra, who in theory governs all desire and thought? Bound as you are by those desires, does that not make you my property as well?"
"Hmph, ridiculous. Such matters cannot be conflated! My treasures are recognized by the world itself—that is why they manifest as the Noble Phantasm Gate of Babylon. But you, Māra—could you ever be recognized by the world?"
Archer's voice brimmed with disdain.
"My king… please be careful with your words," Ritsuka and Mash whispered anxiously, urging him not to provoke her further. The balance of power was not in their favor.
"Recognized by the world?" Satsuki spoke lightly. "Perhaps I'll decide whether I need its recognition, depending on my mood."
Gilgamesh was left speechless.
"As for you, King of Conquerors—I heard just now that your goal is to conquer the world?"
Unlike her exchange with Archer, Satsuki regarded Rider's ambition with greater calm. "In the history I know, such goals—so long as a nation had reached a certain height—were the common mindset of its rulers."
"Of course. As the King of Conquerors, my creed is 'conquest'—to seize, to invade."
"A strikingly barefaced bandit's philosophy."
Rider chuckled somewhat sheepishly. Taking a gulp of wine, he replied:
"In my era, morality and order were fragile walls. Only armies and force were absolute."
The answer was unexpected. Even Waver gasped before blurting out in near hysteria:
"You! You still want to conquer this world—wah!"
A flick of Rider's fingers silenced his Master. He shrugged.
"This king has never hidden his true intent. Conquering the world is my dream. But the first step toward that dream requires the Holy Grail."
"To gain a body, to stride forth under heaven and earth, to enact conquest—that is the path of kingship. Yet as I am now, bodiless, nothing can begin. I do not fear. I simply know—I must have flesh."
As he spoke, even Archer listened in earnest. After suffering Satsuki's repeated blows—both in body and spirit—he now drank quietly. Yet upon close observation, his expression was unlike before. It was not the usual sneer, but a twisted smile—something darker, edged with malice.
"I have decided—Rider. Before I die, I will kill you with my own hands."
"Heh, I doubt it will be that simple now."
"..."
At this, Satsuki finally spoke slowly: "Your ambitions and purposes are laughably weak. One claims to be the sole owner of treasures, ignoring the changes wrought by time. The other clings to banditry as his creed, outdated yet never abandoned. I can state with certainty: even had I not appeared in this Holy Grail War, the two of you were doomed to fail."
Rider only laughed heartily, his drunken face still bearing kingly pride.
"Then let this king fall upon the path of conquest—that would be a fitting end."
"Hmph. Even if I must die, I will never allow outsiders to touch a single treasure of Uruk."
At some point, even Gilgamesh's words had shifted slightly from his usual tone of absolute supremacy.
Yet among them sat one who had not once smiled during the banquet.
The King of Knights, though present, found no chance to interject during the exchanges between the King of Heroes and the Conqueror King. Their discourse on kingship was far removed from the ideals she upheld. She could not connect with them at all.
In truth, she found herself more aligned with Satsuki's stance—even if Satsuki remained that of a detached observer.
"King of Knights, what is your wish?"
At last, Satsuki turned her gaze to Saber. She could tell this knight harbored a radiant dream within her heart. No matter the age, this knight's wish had never faltered. It was the pride of her kingship.
Thus she raised her head, meeting the eyes of the gathered Heroic Spirits.
"—I wish to save my homeland. I want to change the fate of Britain's destruction."
When Saber declared this resolutely, silence fell over the gathering.
Then—
Clap, clap, clap…
The only sound in the still courtyard was Satsuki's light applause.
"This is the most familiar answer I've heard yet…"
Her words were neither praise nor ridicule—it was hard to tell. But what surprised Saber even more was the reaction of the other two. Despite the conviction in her words, Gilgamesh and Iskandar treated her as though she were an entirely different breed of king.
No response. No admiration. No opposition. Nothing.
To win the Grail, to save her shattered nation—this was her kingship. A statement so direct and so simple… how could no one speak?
"King of Knights… surely I misheard?"
The Conqueror King finally broke the silence, scratching at his beard. His drunken face held nothing but doubt.
"You said 'change fate'? You mean to overturn history itself?"
"Yes. No matter how impossible it may seem, with the omnipotent Holy Grail, it must be achievable."
At this, Satsuki's face remained unreadable. Since Saber had no chance of claiming the Grail while she was present, there was no need to shatter the dream. After all, she understood the value of dreams—precious, even if unreachable.
Listening to the kings clash over their ideals was a rare spectacle indeed.
Satsuki drifted into her own thoughts, recalling that one land she had once acknowledged as her heart's home. Meanwhile, the voices of two kings carried on beside her, arguing two completely opposing philosophies of rulership.
For Iskandar and Gilgamesh, kingship was absolute selfhood. Nations and titles were tools—means to mobilize power and realize their personal ideals and desires.
For Saber, the nation and its people were the goal themselves. She made herself into the foundation of her country's survival, uniting her very being with her kingdom, discarding her humanity to become the brightest flame of its glory.
But tragically, despite such devotion, she could only watch helplessly as her land fell apart in her hands. That failure crushed her so deeply that in this debate, she was overwhelmed by the Conqueror King's voice.
"A king without desire is nothing but an ornament."
Rider's booming voice, matched with his towering frame, made him all the more fearsome.
"Saber, you said 'sacrifice for ideals.' Yes, in the past you were a pure saint, unsullied beyond compare. But who prays for a martyr? Who dreams only of a saint, able to soothe but never to lead? It is only when desire is shown, when splendor is exalted, that king and country are set upon the right path."
He drained his cup and continued:
"As a king, one must possess greater desire than any other. More extravagant, more wrathful, more human than any. Only then will vassals bow, only then will people long in their hearts: 'If only I could be king.'"
"And such rule… where lies justice?"
"There is none. In kingship there is no justice—so there is no regret."
"…"
"O king who bears the name of knight, your justice and ideals may once have saved your nation and your people. That is why your name is sung to this day. But as for the ones you saved—what became of them, you cannot claim ignorance."
"You—what are you saying?"
The hill of Camlann, drenched in blood at sunset.
That scene resurfaced in Saber's mind once more.
"You only ever 'saved' your people, never once 'guided' them. They never knew what their king's desires truly were. You abandoned your lost subjects, standing aloof with a sacred posture, intoxicated with your own small-minded ideal.
"So you were not a true king. You were only a girl binding yourself in a cocoon, striving to become the image of a king who 'thinks of her people.'"
"I…"
And so, the King of Knights fell silent. Before the cruelty of that truth, her ideals wavered.
...
Draining her cup of tea, Satsuki spoke calmly: "Enough. I have now understood the dreams of each of you kings."
"But I believe you too understand a truth. I recall the King of Heroes himself once said this: in this world, the only thing of true worth is strength."
"The reason I can sit here drinking without concern, and why you—even with such opposing ideals and goals—sit here without crossing blades, is simple: my strength has skewed the balance of the battlefield."
Satsuki laid her cards on the table without hesitation.
"Since none of you can defeat me alone, cooperation is your only path."
The King of Heroes, the King of Knights, and the Conqueror King all wore grave expressions. Each held to their ideals, each sought different goals. Yet when faced with reality—when their feet touched the ground—only one thing remained to determine right from wrong: the final outcome.
And what decided that outcome was not the loftiness of ideals nor the grandeur of dreams.
It returned to the most primal, most direct truth—strength.
"In my eyes, if you lack the strength to defeat me, then your paths are nothing more than laughable excuses. But if you win, then you may claim the legitimacy of your ways."
Setting her teacup down, Satsuki said evenly: "So, are you ready? Since the Conqueror King once declared, 'The path of kingship has no justice, and thus no regret,' then here and now—face my trial of kingship."
Even as her words faded, a violent gale howled through the air.
The wind was searing and dry, as though to burn all to ash.
The surroundings shifted—the forest, the Einzbern courtyard—vanished.
—In their place stretched an endless desert.