"I never write about myself. That would be called an essay. The current me only possesses the ability to weave the stories of others—I have no desire to write about anything else."
Shakespeare declared with firm conviction. Understanding his meaning, Karna furrowed his brow and said:
"In other words, you're avoiding trouble."
"Well, more or less."
"Hmm—" Karna nodded in comprehension.
"...Then there's nothing to be done. Your goal is to chronicle the stories of others, regardless of whether they end in ruin or tragedy—you must write them to their conclusion. Therefore, surviving until the very end is your purpose. Naturally, fighting on the frontlines is out of the question."
Faced with these cold words, Shakespeare instead laughed delightedly:
"Precisely! I must witness the conclusion of this Holy Grail War with my own eyes! Whether it brings happiness or despair, or reveals some terrible truth—to stand by and observe everyone's stories until the very end is the mission I bear!"
For a Servant summoned to the Holy Grail War, these were utterly inappropriate words. Yet he declared without hesitation—he would remain an observer until the end.
Achilles and Atalanta truly didn't know whether to feel exasperated or angry. In contrast, Sakatsuki chuckled softly.
Though he hadn't lived his own life this way, he admired those who could carry such conviction to the very end.
At the same time, he privately wondered—what kind of story could compel even this great writer to abandon his principles and intervene personally?
In any case, with the assistance of a C-rank Noble Phantasm and the priest's own iron will, the Red Faction Servants abandoned their attempts at dissuasion. Even the Empress sighed deeply and acknowledged Amakusa's bold decision.
"Very well, Master. I must remain here to control this garden, so I cannot join the battlefield directly. Though I'll provide what support I can, don't venture too deeply into enemy territory, understood?"
"I'm fully aware—I know my own limitations perfectly well."
Despite his words, Amakusa had no intention of holding back in this war. He would fight with everything he had, seize the Grail with everything he had. For this, he would stake his life—he wouldn't hesitate to commit acts completely divorced from justice.
"Now then, though our commanders are assembled, an army without soldiers lacks credibility. Even mere homunculi or golems can prove quite troublesome in sufficient numbers."
As the Empress said, they possessed no soldiers. But she was Semiramis, the Assyrian Empress—expendable troops were something she could produce without limit.
"I'll select some Dragon Tooth Warriors. Three thousand should suffice, no?"
"Three thousand?" Achilles, who hailed from ancient Greece, clicked his tongue. "I've fought plenty of Dragon Tooth Warriors, but that number is absurd by any measure."
Nearby, Sakatsuki knew that despite the Black Faction's round-the-clock production of golems, their total numbers still hadn't exceeded one thousand.
"Under normal circumstances, it would be impossible. But as long as we remain within this Hanging Gardens, there is nothing beyond my capabilities."
Facing Achilles' question, Semiramis responded with a confident smile. Indeed, no matter which country this aerial garden traveled to, it would always function as her domain. All attributes were enhanced here, even allowing her to wield magecraft that touched upon the realm of True Magic with ease.
Even for an 'magecraft-inept' Assassin Empress like her, within these grounds she could rival the greatest of magi.
Of course, this came at a price. After all, this Noble Phantasm itself bordered on being outright cheating. Semiramis would be rendered powerless if she left the gardens—but then, this garden was a mobile fortress, making departure fundamentally impossible.
"So, which of you shall take the vanguard position?"
At Amakusa's words, Atalanta, Achilles and Karna exchanged glances. Shakespeare and Sakatsuki, who had no intention of participating, wore the characteristic expressions of spectators enjoying the show.
Karna was the first to withdraw, while Achilles and Atalanta began competing for the position. The Empress shrugged in incomprehension, while Shakespeare fanned the flames by declaring he would compose verses praising whichever brave soul took point.
"Hmm, I could also consider baking some apple pie as reward~~"
Sakatsuki's remark completely ignited the situation. No one could refuse a man with EX-ranked cooking skills—especially when the ingredients included golden apples, delicacies even the Greek gods had never tasted.
"...Please be sure to discuss this peacefully, alright?" Amakusa whispered.
Finally, out of respect for the priest, both parties compromised. It was decided Achilles would take point while Atalanta's Noble Phantasm would be perfect for initiating the attack.
"I was planning to deploy my Noble Phantasm anyway."
"Understood, then it's settled."
"So this is your first joint operation together, is it? Shall I compose a love poem for the occasion?"
To Shakespeare's proposal, Achilles responded cheerfully: "Oh, please do!" But Atalanta just snorted "Pass."
Thus Shakespeare decided to compromise by composing a poem about a heartbroken man's sorrow—only to be instantly shut down by Sakatsuki's rainbow-blue glare.
Amakusa watched the heroes' antics with a wry smile before turning his gaze toward the Fortress of Millennia in the distant twilight.
His heartbeat accelerated.
Ah, I know. I can feel it. It's truly there—within that fortress, in that place, lies the object of my lifelong yearning.
Exhilaration flooded his chest as he desperately suppressed the smile threatening to break across his face.
"Even a man like you struggles to contain his excitement when the goal is within reach. In that regard, you're still just a child."
Both trembling and smile froze simultaneously. Amakusa shot a mildly displeased look at the Servant beside him.
"Nothing wrong with that. Resisting the urge to leap for joy is commendable enough. More importantly, Master. Your death means my demise—the annihilation of all our plans. You understand this well, yes?"
"Of course I do."
Facing her Master, who responded as if it were nothing, the Empress let out a deep sigh:
"Even so, you still insist on going to the battlefield. I truly cannot understand. You are now the Master who commands us—someone who should never set foot on the battlefield under any circumstances. Yet despite that, why are you willing to stake your life and rush into battle?"
After all, the Empress had been by Amakusa's side all this time and was well aware of his capabilities. Against homunculi and golems, he should have no issues—but the outcome of a battle against a Servant was truly unpredictable.
In any case, as long as he was careful, there should be no problem. But even if there was no problem… there was still the possibility of the unexpected. For her, sending Amakusa onto the battlefield was something she wanted to avoid at all costs. Yet no matter how many times she said it, this stubborn boy refused to give up on the idea.
"Let me ask you one last time—why are you doing this?"
Amakusa hesitated for a moment before finally seeming to steel himself and answering in a calm voice:
"If my plan goes against the will of God, then I will surely be destroyed on this battlefield. Perhaps I will die in battle against a Servant by misfortune, or be killed by a golem or homunculus due to a moment of carelessness. I might even be caught in the range of an ally's Noble Phantasm and lose my life."
Humans die. Servants die. A kind person being dragged into something unreasonable and meeting a tragic end—such things are just part of the natural order of life.
If I am an existence that is not righteous, then that is the fate I will inevitably meet.
"If that truly happens, I will accept death with grace. If God does not forgive me, then that is simply how it must be. But if… if everything proceeds smoothly—"
The Assyrian Empress was taken aback by her Master's intensity. It wasn't that Amakusa had done anything—he had merely wiped away his usual smile and was now staring directly at his Servant.
In his eyes, there was no trace of ferocity, madness, anger, or hatred. Instead, they were as calm as a perfectly clear lake. It was hardly the gaze of someone about to step onto the battlefield—it was utterly serene.
"—Then it would mean that God has forgiven my actions, that He holds mercy for all people… that my desire to obtain the Holy Grail is righteous. Once I know that, I will no longer waver. Even if I have betrayed something that should never be betrayed, it will have been worth it."
Amakusa Shirou Tokisada—the saint of the Far East—declared with unwavering resolve. According to him, he was stepping onto the battlefield to confirm whether his purpose was just.
To Semiramis, who had grown up amidst schemes and assassinations, such an act was nothing short of reckless foolishness.
And yet—perhaps this was something her Master had to do. It was an obsession beyond the understanding of others, a necessary ritual to solidify his unshakable will.
"Hmph. To be honest, I truly cannot comprehend it."
"I figured you wouldn't."
The white-haired boy responded with a bitter smile. Just as the Empress had said, no one else could understand his way of thinking. After all, he was now preparing to step onto a battlefield where death could come at any moment—all for the sake of judging whether he was right.
I had expected opposition, but Empress Semiramis declared with the tone of one commanding her subjects:
"However, if this is the only way for you to move forward, then so be it. I grant you permission. Fight to your heart's content and survive."
"Thank you," Amakusa expressed his gratitude as the Hanging Gardens gradually came to a halt. The Fortress of Millennia still lay ahead. Between the floating gardens and the fortress stretched forests on both sides, with an open grassland at the center.
In other words, this was the battlefield. The Red Faction's Servants and their Master, Amakusa, had all gathered at the prow of the Hanging Gardens.
"It begins, Amakusa."
The young man named Sakatsuki placed one foot on the parapet. Having remained largely silent until now, he finally revealed an arrogant demeanor as he looked down upon the chaotic Fortress of Millennia.
Then he turned to Amakusa Shirou Tokisada, his sharp eyes now tinged with a deep blue radiance.
"May fortune favor us both."
Gazing into those eyes that seemed capable of killing souls, Amakusa studied Sakatsuki for a long moment before finally smiling.
"Agreed."