The scene shifted from a boisterous, chaotic revelry to an unsettling quiet, as if the recent clash of Heroic Spirits had never happened.
Saber stood alone in the courtyard, her initial confusion dispelled, yet a bitter complexity remained in the heart of the young King.
Is there no one in this world who understands my way of kingship? Misunderstood by her subjects, scorned by her enemies, even her own Master seemed to doubt her worth—was she truly so inadequate?
Perhaps… he understands me. But unfortunately, he isn't my Master. If only I could be his Servant in this Grail War…
A bitter smile touched Saber's lips; the thought was unsettling; she shouldn't be thinking such things. Regardless of Kiritsugu Emiya's flaws, he remained her Master.
The tragedy was that he didn't understand her, while the man who did was her enemy.
"It seems… you and Kiritsugu Emiya don't get along well."
As if sensing Saber's thoughts, Arthas spoke with a gentle smile.
Saber stiffened slightly, remaining silent.
"That's… none of your concern. Don't forget, after tomorrow, we'll be mortal enemies."
"No… I just find it amusing. Kiritsugu Emiya, with all his scheming, ultimately tripped over his own feet."
Arthas shook his head. Kiritsugu had gone to great lengths to acquire the Holy Relic, only to summon a Servant he couldn't control—he must be furious.
For him, a Berserker who blindly obeys orders, or an Assassin specializing in covert assassinations, would have been far more suitable. Instead, he'd summoned the upright Saber, a King with the innocent nature of a young girl.
Saber's personality, in Arthas's view, was improbable for a King. Kings are typically ruthless and decisive. Both Rider and Archer, Arthas was certain, were tyrannical butchers responsible for countless deaths.
That initial sword-drawing publicity stunt had been remarkably successful; otherwise, a girl like her wouldn't have ascended the throne.
Even so, Arthur's empire was ultimately destroyed by her closest confidants, resulting in a tragic end.
Arthas felt more pity than anything for Saber, but that didn't mean he condoned her actions. In his eyes, Saber was a naive dreamer, vastly different from Rider and Archer.
His earlier words of comfort were purely out of pity. Saber was innocent; the blame lay with those who'd forced her onto the throne.
She genuinely wanted to be a good King, but she didn't understand what true kingship truly entailed.
"What are you trying to say? What did my Master do?!"
Seeing Arthas's pitying gaze, Saber's voice rose involuntarily. She felt this was crucial.
"Perhaps you don't know?"
With a sigh, Arthas spoke slowly.
"The Holy Relic Kiritsugu used to summon you was stolen from Einzbern; he killed everyone in the transport team. You should have been Einzbern's Servant, mine."
Arthas's expression turned serious; he spoke calmly.
He didn't feel wrong; Kiritsugu's actions were despicable; using this to unsettle Saber was justified.
Kiritsugu, it seemed, hadn't considered the consequences of summoning a Servant.
After all, Servants aim for the Grail and are bound by Command Seals; unless absolutely necessary, they wouldn't clash with their Masters.
Masters can use Command Seals to force Servants to commit suicide.
"Wh-what?! Impossible! It can't be true?!"
Moments ago, she'd wished to be Arthas's Servant; now, Arthas revealed this cruel truth, leaving Saber speechless, shaking her head in denial.
Though she sensed Arthas wouldn't lie, she couldn't accept it.
Was her Master truly so despicable? Was their bond a mere fabrication?
From the beginning, she didn't belong to Kiritsugu Emiya; he'd acquired her through despicable means.
Why… why is this so?
The question echoed in her heart; pain and regret closed her eyes.
Arthas, sensing Saber's disbelief, continued.
"If you don't believe me, investigate or ask Kiritsugu directly; I doubt he'd deny it."
Arthas smiled wryly.
Kiritsugu, though a ruthless magus killer, had admirable qualities; he was at least forthright, never denying his actions.
After speaking, Arthas ignored the distraught Saber, turning to gently embrace Illya.
"Let's go; it's late; let's go to bed."
Illya nodded, glancing worriedly at Saber, but said nothing, leaving the courtyard with Arthas.
"I have to thank you, Saber; if not for you, I might not have met such a good Master,"
Whether intentionally or not, Flandre, leaving last, smiled at Saber, her words like a sharp blade piercing the heart.
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