DISCLAIMER: I do not take credit from the Fate universe and its characters. The rights and credits go to the original authors.

Read the notes in the first chapter if you haven't done it already.

This is my very first story. I'm confident in my grammar, but if there are any mistakes, then let me know and I'll try to figure out how to fix them as soon as I have time.

Hope you enjoy.


FATE/Oppression
-Arc V-

Chapter 23

Planet: Earth
Date: June 12 2020
Location:
Ramesseum Tentyris – Ozymandias' Flying City (Sky - Egypt)

(======)

Despite his better judgment, Shirou couldn't help but feel nervous.

Had it been any other time, he would have found the current situation annoying, and irritating, and extremely hard to believe. After all, the red-haired Ruler had expected a great many things upon being summoned back into the Real Side of the World in order to put an end to the unexpected threat that was looming over the planet... but this situation was NOT one of the things he had expected. Not even in another thousand years of existence would he have believed to found himself in such a bizarre, and peculiar, circumstance. He was still struggling to digest it even now, after more than two hours of witnessing such a scene.

Ramesseum Tentyris, the Great Temple Complex and the city that represented the might of the Pharaoh Ozymandias embodied as a Noble Phantasm, was literally flying through the sky. And that wasn't something one could see very often. Such a scene was almost too unbelievable to accept, even for a powerful God like him. Even Artoria, Mordred and the other Servants were still trying to fully digest the situation right now… and let's not even talk about the only human of the group.

Luviagelita Edelfelt had been shocked beyond words. She still was, even to this moment. Such a sight was something she had never expected to see, not even in in her wildest dreams.

Yet, ever since his temple complex had taken flight, the Sun King Ozymandias had done nothing but bask himself in their stupor with a powerful laugh. He seemed to greatly enjoy witnessing to the group's shock, as if the disbelief coating their faces brought nothing but pleasure to him. He especially seemed to enjoy Iskandar's wide, incredulous gaze; almost as if the fellow King's stupor and acknowledgment meant more to him than all the other Servants' reactions combined. And given his boastful and arrogant behavior, Shirou could easily see that this was exactly the case. The Pharaoh wanted to impress the King of Conquerors, after all. He desired to have him under his rule and command, and for that reason he wanted to display his superiority and show off in front of him. That much was obvious and very easy to understand.

And much to everyone's annoyance, it worked. Shocking as it was, it was working. Summoning and controlling an entire city complex – and, above all, making it fly across the sky – was no easy feat to achieve. It was something that shouldn't be possible to do for any average Servant. Yet, the Sun King was able to control this place with just a mental command, making it fly like a living being and using his temple complex like a gigantic mount… and this fact alone spoke volumes about him.

Just how powerful he had to be to be able to accomplish such a feat? To be able to control a flying city with but a single wave of his staff? It was stunning. No, it was mind-blowing. Even the God of War himself couldn't help but be impressed. It was no wonder that Nitocris, Cleopatra and Caesar didn't want to go against his whims. Arrogant he might be, but no one could deny that Ozymandias was powerful. Extremely powerful. He was no Knight or warrior, but his power was equal or perhaps even greater than that of Artoria, Mordred and the others combined. After witnessing such a scene, there was no way to deny it anymore.

This Pharaoh was the most powerful Rider Class Servant they had encountered so far; even more so than Iskandar. And as such, Shirou needed to treat with him carefully. Especially if he wanted to make an ally out of him.

Which was why, crazy as it was, the red-haired Ruler had decided to completely focus his mind on the current task.

Despite what Shirou and the group had previously believed, in fact, the flying city inside which they were currently located was not empty. Not entirely, at least. Ramesseum Tentyris wasn't called "The Shining Great Temple Complex" for nothing. It wasn't just a gigantic complex made entirely of temples and corridors alone. Not at all. On the contrary, it was a full-fledged flying city, complete with houses, buildings and baths built in the ancient Egyptian style with pools and bathtubs as well, along with parks and trees that surrounded the main Pyramid for hundreds of meters. And just like any self-respecting city, the majority of the main buildings of this place also possessed a room that would rarely be used by a Servant under normal circumstances.

That being: a kitchen.

In all honesty, the fact that the Ozymandias' Temple also possessed a kitchen had proved to be a really convenient twist for Shirou. Almost amusingly so. After all, despite their previous "disagreement", it was only thanks to this peculiar situation that he had been able to successfully make an offer to the Pharaoh. A suggestion. One that had allowed him to ease the previous tension between his group and the Sun King. A suggestion that had allowed him to shift everyone's attention to him and calm Ozymandias' anger for a moment.

What did he offer, would you ask? Well, that's easy: he had offered to cook a banquet for all the Servants.

Apparently, the good thing about a banquet was that its participants tended to overlook or completely dismiss their previous grudges and arguments during a good meal… at least for a little while. It was a specific detail that the God of War had learned to exploit to his advantage thanks his previous travels, having witnessed his companions' reactions to his cooking skills firsthand in several occasions. As absurd as it sounded, he could proudly admit that he was accustomed to it by now. Which was why he was pretty confident about this strategy, even in spite of himself. And consequently, despite his growing annoyance, he was completely determined to do his best for this task.

It wasn't a matter of pride alone. Both the stability of the group and their future relationship with Ozymandias – along with the safety of this Country and the whole freaking world – depended on it, after all.

Failure was not an option. He had to be extremely careful with this. If he wanted to bring the Sun King and his allies to his side, he had to completely give his all on this task. There was no other choice.

No matter how funny and absurd it was.


.

/+/+/+/+/+/+/

.

Astraea is pacing in front of me. She stares at the stairway which leads away from the Sanctum and into the heart of the God's domain. To my right, Hades crosses his arms and tries to maintain a façade of calm. It doesn't work.

When I start to climb up the stairs, Astraea grabs my wrist. Her elegant face, smeared with sweat from the heat of the volcano, seems troubled.

"Wait," she says. "If you go in there, you will have to face Shiva, the God of Destruction and Creation."

I tell them that I understand that.

Hades shakes his head. "No, not completely. Shiva's power is like nothing you could imagine. The Titan Atlas was an ant compared to him. Only danger waits inside there."

"I don't have any other choice," I say.

Astraea clenches her fists. For a moment, I think she's going to stop me. She gives me a regretful expression, as though she wants to do more to help me.

Eventually, she relaxes her hands.

"Face your destiny, then." Her tone becomes firm. "I might regret this, but go forward and battle him. Prove to the Council, and to the world, that humans are able to stand up to the Gods."

.

/+/+/+/+/+/+/

.


(======)

"Are you really sure about this?"

Cleopatra's question echoed amid the dining room of the temple for what seemed to be an eternity. Skepticism was clearly present in her tone, emphasized by her conflicted expression and the furrowing of her delicate brows. And although there was nothing but genuine curiosity behind her question, the silence of the room did nothing to ease the tension growing within the group.

Despite her haughty and solemn behavior, for once even the others seemed to share the Assassin's doubt. Nitocris and Caesar looked perplexed as well, seated next to the Egyptian Queen at the gigantic table while they waited for dinner to be served, their gaze frantically flickering between Ozymandias and the rest of the group with obvious nervousness. Iskandar, Artoria, the Knights and Salieri were seated on the other side, while Ozymandias sat at the head of the table, right in the middle of the two factions, faced by Luvia on the opposite side.

Once again, silence echoed amid the room. Cleopatra's question remained unanswered, and all the Servants kept waiting without moving a single muscle. The Sun King kept his eyes closed as he remained still with his arms crossed, mimicked by both the King of Conquerors and the King of Knights who were seated to his left. Next to them, Mordred, Gawain and Bedivere were silent but worried, tension and concern written all over their faces – just like the other Pharaohs – while Antonio Salieri looked as bored as ever. At the other head of the table, instead, Luviagelita Edelfelt was openly sweating, unable to remain unfazed by the solemnity that was drenching the air.

In the end, the girl with long, golden hair couldn't help but voice her concern. "…um, guys? I don't mean to imply anything… but I can't exactly help it anymore," she whispered in a low voice, leaning towards her allies on the right with a hand covering her mouth. She was still sweating in concern while her eyes flickered between the two Kings and the Pharaoh's stony face. "Are you really sure this is going to work?"

Artoria didn't even open her eyes as she answered. Her face remained stoic and unfazed as ever. "Worry not, Shirou's culinary skills are unmatched. There is no need for concern."

Mordred and Iskandar nodded vigorously in agreement. They didn't even hesitate for a second. Much to the young Magus' shock, they all seemed oddly certain about this. The King of Knights was displaying such a great amount of certainty in her tone that it was honestly surprising to see. She had made that statement as if it were a foregone conclusion, almost an undisputable fact. There was no trace of doubt or worry in her face, and weirdly enough, everyone else seemed to share the same certainty about this. Except Berserker, of course.

"I must say, however, that this is a strange turn of events," Caesar mused as he readjusted his cravat, then took a sip of the delicious wine that filled his cup.

His wife Cleopatra snorted next to him with her eyes closed. "Absolutely. To think that the Servant of the Ruler class, the one who has been summoned to oversee the War, would offer to personally cook a meal for us… I must admit I did not expect it," she commented, fixing a strand of her long, elegant hair. "Humph. In that case, I expect nothing but the best by the end of the night. That man looks unremarkable in appearance, but he is bold for sure."

Mordred openly narrowed her eyes on the Egyptian Queen after hearing that. "Unremarkable? The hell do you mean?" she spat, not even bothering to hide her irritation.

Cleopatra eyed her with a bored expression. "Not only are you vulgar and unrefined, must you be dull as well?" she mused sarcastically, raising a brow to the female Knight. "To boldly declare to be able to create a meal that would satisfy not only the greatest Pharaoh himself, but also a Queen like me... that is quite the claim for a single Servant; especially when said Servant is a Ruler. There's no way I'm going to believe that."

"Miss Cleopatra is right. You will forgive our wariness, but your friend's offer seems nothing but a bluff to me," Nitocris agreed with a stern face, her gaze and expression clearly showing her skepticism.

Not that they could blame them, though. What person in their right state of mind would ever believe a Servant to be able to cook something decent? It was simply absurd. Too absurd to believe. Heck, Heroic Spirits weren't even supposed to know how to cook at all! Ruler's claim was just too unbelievable to accept.

Yet, much to every Pharaoh's disbelief, no one on the other faction seemed to doubt the red-head's skills apart from Luvia and Salieri. Not Mordred, not Iskandar, and not even Artoria and her Knights.

Luvia just couldn't understand it. "Is he really that good?" she asked, her face betraying her own doubts about this whole matter. Although she had taken a liking to Shirou, not even she could help but be skeptical about all of this.

Iskandar merely grunted with a smirk. "Keh! Just wait and see, young miss. Dinner shall not disappoint," he stated with utmost decision, nodding to himself with an excited grin. "Had we met during my life, I would have appointed the boy as my personal retainer and chef, if only for his cooking skills alone. That much I can guarantee you."

"Indeed. I would have done the same," Artoria agreed with a solemn nod.

Everyone on the Sun King's side blinked, while Luvia seemed taken aback by the certainty behind their words. Even Mordred, Gawain and Bedivere were nodding in silent agreement.

For the first time in a long while, King Ozymandias opened his eyes after hearing the words of the fellow Kings. He sat on his chair – it was more like a small throne, really – and leaned forward in slight interest.

"We shall see how this banquet unfolds, then," he spoke with a serious tone of voice, his face and gaze betraying nothing. "A Pharaoh of my stature deserves nothing but the best. I shall judge that man's skill myself."

Artoria shot him a confident glance. "Rest assured, Sun King. He shan't disappoint."

"Humph. I certainly hope so," he grunted. His intricate golden armor and jewelry sang of higher prestige and divine grace than the intricate throne he was perched. "You lots should be honored that I'm even allowing you to dine and seat at my table. Royalty should only deign to dine with royalty, after all," the Pharaoh openly glared at Salieri and the Knights, and didn't even spare a glance in Luvia's direction. "Your presence should not be required."

Mordred bristled in silent fury while Bedivere and Gawain narrowed their eyes and Salieri smirked in mad amusement. Luvia just paled and gulped instead.

"Is that any way to treat your guests?" Iskandar reprimanded him with a stern stare, prompting the Pharaoh to turn on him instead. "A true monarch does not disdain his retainers' presence, be it at the table or in battle. I thought you would know that, Sun King."

Ozymandias watched the Macedonian Emperor with an unreadable face. "So you would invite every kind of person to your banquets, King of Conquerors?"

"A King's words are for all to hear, friend or foe," he answered easily, unfazed. "Besides, it's not wise to judge people by appearance alone. I don't know about Berserker, but except for me and the King of Knights, the majority of our group are certified Knights, and that makes them valid nobility, regardless of the circumstances of their birth. The young miss over there comes from a noble lineage as well, right?"

Luvia nodded frantically with a strained smile on her lips.

"Antonio Salieri was considered a noble in life too," the Italian Berserker pointed out as well, looking completely unfazed by the tension in the air. "A minor one, admittedly, but still one regardless. He was more a musician than a real noble, after all."

Iskandar grinned in the Pharaoh's direction. "See? There's nothing against it."

Ozymandias narrowed his eyes slightly. "And what about Ruler, then?" he pressed further, unyielding.

"The boy is an exception," the muscular Rider snorted. "He's a higher existence compared to us, due to his powers and role. Loathe as I am to admit it, he's the strongest among our group, and he may yet be my right hand man. He is under my protection."

That caught Artoria's attention. Immediately.

"I beg you pardon? Since when he's your right hand man, King of Conquerors?" she demanded all of a sudden, her voice lower than usual as she turned towards the taller man with a smile on her face. A very, very cold smile. "I do not recall him saying that. Ever. Are you perhaps thinking of dragging him among your ranks by force?"

"Bwahahahah! Don't stress too much about it, Saber," he simply dismissed her in amusement.

Nitocris, Caesar and Cleopatra sweat-dropped at the whole scene. 'It seems Ruler's coveted by a lot of royalty,' they all mused with a deadpan.

"By the way, where did you get all this stuff?" Iskandar asked out loud, his red eyes glancing to the golden ones of the Sun King with a hint of honest confusion. He was openly shaking the wine in his cup with a gentle movement of the hand. "I won't question your power, but I seriously doubt this flying city of yours would usually be provided with wine and food. Powerful you may be, but there's no way a Servant can create food and spoils out of nowhere."

That, indeed, was a very good question. Where did Ozymandias and his group take all the food from? It couldn't just have been summoned here along with the Temple Complex.

From his part, Ozymandias merely shrugged with a disinterested face. "Saber is the one who provided us with our current supplies," he explained, shooting a glance in Caesar's direction. The Roman dictator rubbed the back of his neck as everyone turned to him. "Apparently, his looks have changed something in him. He's become quite fond of food."

The fat Servant laughed sheepishly under everyone's unamused stare. "A-Ahahah… please make no mistake, it is due to my current condition," he attempted to clarify with a captivating smile. "My current class is a wrong one, you see. I was supposed to be summoned as a Rider, but I've found myself as a member of the Saber class instead. I think something must have gone wrong with the summoning system… and because of that mistake, I need a lot of mana (and nutrients) to keep me fit."

Everyone just stared at him with a blank face, even his own allies. Except for Iskandar, who merely blinked in confusion.

Cleopatra exhaled a long sigh. "Good grief, I love you dearly, but I cannot deny that I was shocked when I first saw your current looks, Lord Caesar," the beautiful Assassin admitted, donning a hand over her face in frustration. "I still cannot believe it... how can you seem so wonderful even when you've grown fat like that?"

"My dear, this is a temporary vessel, but I can feel Rome in its veins. My body is with Rome, filled with love and dreams," Caesar chuckled, patting the Queen's head with a hand and his round belly with the other.

The Assassin openly blushed at the affectionate gesture. "E-Even still, hear me out, Lord Caesar! I've thought of a good way to return your figure to the slender one you once had! If we―"

"Stop that, my dear," he interrupted her, gently. The smile on his chubby face was both resigned and resolute as he stared fondly at his wife. "You see, I've grown quite fond of this appearance. After all, why wouldn't I appreciate the appearance that got this splendidly big with all the love that is stored towards you?"

An explosion of smoke suddenly erupted from the Queen's head. Cleopatra's face became a living volcano of embarrassment as she shrieked in both glee and shame, much to Saber's growing amusement.

Cleopatra squealed like a schoolgirl.

"L-L-LORD CAESAAAAR~!"

"Hahahah… what's wrong? Why is your face burning all of a sudden?"

Everyone stared at the scene with blank looks, especially Luvia and Mordred. From their part, Nitocris and Ozymandias merely sighed instead, apparently already used to those two's antics.

Antonio Salieri scoffed in disgust. "Unbelievable… this is even more cringe than Nero's rackets," he muttered in annoyance, donning a hand over his face.

Caesar openly perked up in excitement after hearing that. "Hoh? So you've met Nero as well? She truly is a child of Rome, isn't she?" he asked, making many amid the table flinch in chagrin at the reminder of the loud, annoying Empress they had met in Rome almost a week prior.

Luckily for them, however, there was a way out.

Before they could speak further, everyone was spared from that cringe situation.

Mordred, Iskandar and Artoria turned to the right as soon as they heard footsteps approaching from the kitchen. Not even a second later, a certain red-haired Ruler suddenly entered the dining room with a solemn step, pushing a food tray filled with several dishes with his hands and heading towards the golden table at a slow pace.

"It's ready!" Shirou announced, his lips curved into a cheerful smile.

As soon as the smell of food began to fill the air, a lot of Servants at the table felt their mouths began to water. Especially Artoria and Mordred. Many among the group widened their eyes in silent trepidation, and Iskandar was openly grinning as his face brightened all of a sudden.

"Hell yeah! About damn time!" the Knight of Treachery cheered, bouncing on her seat like an excited child. At least until Artoria eyed her sideways.

"Mordred. Mind your manners at the table."

"S-Sorry, Father…"

Shirou shook his head in amusement as he moved closer to the group. He served the plates on the table, offering the first serving to Ozymandias and the Pharaohs due to the fact that they were the hosts. The red-head didn't bother staring directly at each one of them as he did so, but he did offer a slight bow of the head once he had finished serving them.

"Enjoy," was all he said.

The three Pharaohs and the Roman general observed the food warily.

Roast chicken, beef rare, and a rack of lamb. All of that was accompanied by marinated vegetables, fruits of different kinds and also a bit of rice that the Ruler had cooked out of nowhere. The variety of food was quite surprising to see, to be honest. There was also a plate of what looked like a brunch staple consisting of poached eggs and bacon on a muffin, topped with some sort of creamy sauce which consistence they couldn't tell. It was a varied and unexpected assortment of food, no doubt. Definitely not something one would expect to receive from a Servant.

But still, this was nothing compared to what royal Servants were used to see during their life.

"Well… not to offend," Cleopatra was the first to voice her opinion. She picked up a fork while staring at the plate of food with a haughty expression. "But compared to a Pharaoh's standards, this seems rather normal. How disappointing. Given your previous show of confidence, I was expecting more from you, Ruler."

Shirou narrowed his eyes. "Don't judge it with your eyes," he stated matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

An air of solemnity suddenly filled the air after his stern, direct statement. Caesar and Cleopatra exchanged a silent glance, while Nitocris was staring at her plate as if it was poisoned, mentally preparing herself as she took a spoon and a fork. Meanwhile, Ozymandias studied the food in silence with narrowed eyes, his expression as unreadable as ever.

The greatest Pharaoh of Egypt eyed Shirou with a solemn stare. "I am the King of Kings. A Pharaoh who outshines even the Sun. If this food won't be satisfying, you shall be prepared to face my wrath," he warned him, deadly serious.

On his part, Shirou remained unfazed with his arms crossed. The Sun King inwardly scoffed at his blatant show of confidence.

Then, slowly but surely, the Pharaohs took the first bite.

"Oh, this is good."

Nitocris' statement made Ozymandias wary of his mental opinion of the food.

"This is delightful."

Caesar's opinion wasn't helping either. As a matter of fact, the multiple sounds of munching made the Pharaoh suddenly hesitate for some reason.

'…wait a second.' Ozymandias mused, stopping himself before he could taste the food and raising his golden eyes to stare at the Servants seated all around him. As soon as he did so, he immediately realized there were several sounds of munching around him, and they did not come from his allies alone. In fact, as he quickly teared his eyes away from his fellow Pharaohs who were eating their fill with wide, amazed eyes, a single thought came to his mind.

'What?!'

This was not what he was expecting to see.

Artoria, the King of Knights herself, was taking her sweet time with every bite of her food, savoring its flavor as much as she could. Her expression – the stern and emotionless expression that she used to wear all the time – now was only betrayed by the clear blush on her face… and Ozymandias couldn't help but gawk at the sight. But she wasn't the only one who was having a weird reaction.

Next to her, in fact, the King of Conquerors Iskandar was gulping down the food like a madman, his eyes as wide as they could be and his expression morphed half-way between a smile and a crazed grin while he alternated between furiously drinking wine and ingesting large quantities of meat all at the same time. Mordred was no better, either. She was doing the exact same thing, shoving slice after slice of chicken into her mouth with a pace that was honestly frightening to witness. Her mouth was literally stuffed, but she just would not stop eating.

But it wasn't over yet. Gawain and Bedivere were eating their fill in a much more dignified way compared to the boisterous duo, but even the two Knights were wearing an expression of pure bliss on their faces as they savored their food. Heck, even the weird-looking Berserker was staring at the food wide-eyed, looking at the beef rare in his plate as if it were the most beautiful jewel in the world. His crimson eyes were glowing in disbelief, like a criminal who had found faith after an eternity of sin.

Luvia, on the contrary, wasn't being subtle at all. Gone was the noble bearing and dignity of an individual of a higher class. She was doing the exact same thing as Mordred: stuffing her mouth non-stop, with the exception that she was smiling out of joy while doing so. From the first bite her eyes had widened considerably in shock. In fact, her entire body was shuddering. Her breath quickened, and a flush had made its way onto her face. She looked completely dazed, almost as if she had fallen into a trance. It was as joyful as it was dirty. If Ozymandias had to summarize it in a few words, he would say that the human girl looked… lewd. She looked downright lewd right now.

And this was definitely NOT what he was expecting to see.

"W-W-Wha―?! What is this?" Cleopatra's incredulous shriek suddenly grabbed his attention, and the Sun King widened his eyes upon seeing the flushed face of the Egyptian Queen who was staring at her vegetables like a woman possessed. "W-Why is this so good?"

'so much for your standards,' the Pharaoh thought as he noticed that Caesar was already asking for seconds, to which the Ruler happily accepted.

A chorus of voices began to echo in the room.

"Wait, we can get seconds!?"

"Me too, please!"

"Boy! Bring me more meat at once!"

"Shirou! Me as well."

Ozymandias couldn't stand it anymore. He swallowed an incredulous growl and finally took the first bite from his roasted chicken.

The sudden explosion of taste that burst on his tongue nearly made him choke, and even the arrogant and self-centered Sun King was rendered speechless for a split-second. However, from the moment he began chewing and finally swallowed down the food, his expression grew more and more neutral, and his eyes moved to stare at the Ruler who was still waiting to hear his verdict in silence. Now, Ozymandias did not look at him with wariness and suspicion any longer; but instead it looked as if he was staring at a gold mine rather than a Servant.

It was a stare that made the God of War shiver for a moment. He did not like the look the Pharaoh was giving him, for some reason. It didn't seem to be something about intrigue anymore, but something that resembled a growing obsession instead. And that was definitely worrying.

"…say, Shero," Luvia called out slowly, grabbing his attention from the other head of the table. "Would you consider to become my personal butler and work for the Edelfelt family?"

For the first time in quite a while, Shirou snorted in amusement.

But he wasn't the one who answered the question.

"Hell no/Nope/Out of the question."

Mordred, Iskandar and Artoria had made that statement for him all at the same time, each and every one of them looking as serious as death itself.

Luvia openly narrowed her eyes in the three Servants' direction. "I wasn't asking you," she pointed out, annoyed.

"It matters not. I'm not going to hand over my chef," Iskandar stated with a deep voice, shooting a serious stare at the girl. Luvia openly flinched under the Rider's powerful, commanding face. For once, he seemed absolutely serious about this matter.

"Excuse me? Your chef?" Artoria abruptly sobered at Iskandar's statement, and she rounded on the fellow monarch with a mask of ice. She did not know it, but she was openly glaring at him by now; her lips pursed into a thin line. "You must be deluding yourself, King of Conquerors. Shirou belongs to no one."

"Yet!" the Macedonian Emperor rebutted with a wide grin, making the female King bristle in silent apprehension.

The God of War exhaled a long, weary sigh. Damned overly-sized kids and their antics.

"Guys, relax. Now is not the time for this," he ordered with a weary tone, doing his best to stop himself from shaking his head. "The food will get cold, so focus on that instead of arguing."

Clearly, this was not the first time those two were having this kind of conversation.

Without uttering another word, Shirou took his seat next to Mordred, patting her head while she flashed him a thumb's up in approval with her mouth stuffed with meat. Artoria and Iskandar stopped glaring at each other upon seeing the scene, and decided to follow the Ruler's advice and focus on their food instead while the rest of the table looked at them in obvious confusion. The silence returned to reign once more, interrupted only by the sound of furious munching and that of cutlery touching the ceramic of the plates.

Until, after a long while of silence, King Ozymandias finally opened his lips to speak.

And he did so with a roaring laughter.

"Fufufu… fuhahahahah! This is good! This is very good indeed!" the Pharaoh declared with a boisterous voice, grinning like a madman while he fixed Shirou with a predatory stare. "It seems your companions' praise was well-founded. I applaud you, Ruler, for your culinary skills. This is indeed a meal fit of a Pharaoh such as myself."

The unknown God merely smirked at the praise. "My thanks, King Ozymandias. I'm glad you like it."

"As you should be!" the Divine Servant bellowed, laughing and grinning with his arrogant tone. "I've never tasted anything like this, but I suppose it is good to experience new things every now and then. You're a heedful one, aren't you?"

Luvia agreed in full. She almost couldn't believe it, but she actually agreed with him. "T-To think that a Servant would be able to cook something so delicious… this is unbelievable!" she muttered, unable to understand.

The Sun King laughed even more upon witnessing the general disbelief in the room.

"It was indeed unexpected! Now rejoice, Ruler, for I shall bestow upon you the honor of witnessing my benevolence once again!" he declared.

Neither Shirou nor the others of his group were perturbed by the man's sudden mood swing. They were already used to this man's antics by now. But Ozymandias' allies were another story entirely, since all of them were staring at Shirou with wide eyes and mouths agape. They simply could not help it. Having now witnessed and tasted his cooking skills first-hand, from this day henceforth they would forever look at him in a new light. It was simply unavoidable. To think that a Servant could cook something like this; something so delicious that even the Sun King himself would choose to praise him despite his previous anger… the red-head had really blown their minds with this last achievement. Literally.

"You have pleased me twice today, by bringing a fellow Pharaoh to my city and by offering me a meal worthy of my infinite splendor. In regards to that, I shall now allow you to make one demand to me. As long as it is a reasonable one, I shall grant one favor to you," Ozymandias decided, offering a sharp nod of the head towards the man who had piqued his interest. Many amid the table gasped or held their breath upon hearing the Pharaoh's statement, and this fact alone seemed to please him even more. "I am as magnanimous as the Sun! I will always reward those who please me! I have my own pride and honor, after all."

Everyone remained surprised by the Sun King's decision, especially Cleopatra, Caesar and Nitocris. The latter more than the others, since she was still struggling to understand it. The dark-skinned Caster knew better than anyone how rare it was for Ozymandias to take such a decision. The Pharaoh's arrogance was immeasurable, after all; and it was really hard to please him, especially when he was irritated. But now, in front of this unknown Ruler, he had actually decided to grant him a request despite their previous disagreement. This fact alone spoke volumes about his interest in this so-called 'Shirou Emiya'.

The more she thought about it, the more Nitocris failed to grasp it. She remained still in her seat, with her mouth opened and her eyes filled with disbelief. The red-haired Ruler could clearly see her thinly veiled stupor, and withheld a chuckle as soon as he saw her mumbling to herself with a low voice. "T-To have earned the Pharaoh's favor so easily… No! I-I, Nitocris, am not envious!" he overheard her muttering.

Shirou Emiya fought hard to restrain a rude smirk. It seemed that his plan had been a success.

Now, he had to seize this chance before it was too late.

The First Hero of Humanity lowered his head in a respectful bow, trying to be as diplomatic as he could. "I will gladly appreciate your benevolence, Sun King," he said with neutral tone.

"There was no doubt you will," Ozymandias nodded. "My brilliance outshines even the Sun, but even I know how to offer rewards when they are due. You'd do well not to waste this honor."

The Ruler knew that, too. "Does that mean that you're willing to reconsider your previous… decision, then?" he asked, fixing the Sun King with an expectant stare.

The result was immediate. Upon hearing his direct question, Ozymandias narrowed his golden eyes, and his previous grin disappeared all of a sudden. For a few moments filled with tension, the man known as the greatest Pharaoh of Egypt studied the Ruler in front of him with an unreadable stare, his eyes glued to the man's golden-brown orbs in attempt to discern anything from them. No matter how long he stared, however, he could not read his gaze at all, much to his silent frustration.

In the end, the King of Kings closed his eyes and relaxed himself on his seat. "You wish to re-discuss the terms of my decision, I presume?" he deduced, going straight to the point.

Shirou nodded, exchanging a silent glance with his allies. "More or less. Due to my role as a Ruler class Servant, the safety of the world is the only thing that interests me. Therefore, as we've explained to you before, King Ozymandias, my wish is to put an end to the Holy Grail War. The world is in peril right now. The conflict is spreading chaos and death upon the planet. My companions and I will not – cannot – stand by and do nothing while so many people are being targeted and hurt by the unfolding of the Holy Grail War. We wish to put an end to this threat… and your aid would surely be welcome on our part."

Ozymandias' flawless smirk shimmered like his ancient adornments. "And why, pray tell, should I aid you in this quest?" he demanded solemnly, placing a hand under his chin. "As I've said, those who refuse to serve under me have no place in my heart. The world and the people of this land have forsaken me and my authority, and as such, I have no reason to help them. No matter what happens out there, my domain here won't be affected by any danger thanks to my power." His gaze flickered towards Iskandar at that point, and the man openly narrowed his eyes under the stare. "Besides, the King of Conquerors has refused the honor to become my retainer. I have no reason to help you, since you've already refused my benevolence once."

Not for the first time, the God of War struggled to quell his growing irritation. Good grief. This man was completely blinded by his arrogance. His ego was so big that it was almost unbelievable. Dealing with him was never-ending headache, honestly.

"This is not a matter of pride, Pharaoh," Shirou stressed with a serious frown. "The current situation is a grim one. We still don't know the truth behind this Holy Grail War, but it is undeniable that the conflict is spewing chaos and ruin throughout the world. You may be confident about the stability of this… flying city, but there's no guarantee that it will last long. Sooner or later, this senseless conflict will affect your domain as well, and you know it. In order to avoid that, you must aid us. We NEED your help, King Ozymandias."

"That is just your hypothetical thinking," the ancient Pharaoh scoffed, unimpressed.

"Perhaps. But it could happen, am I right?" Shirou countered, deadly serious. Upon seeing Ozymandias' frown, he pressed further. "I'm not saying that you need to come with us, Pharaoh. I'm not asking you to leave this place and join us in our quest. All I want is for you to help the people of this land, for they are suffering greatly under this unjustified oppression. They were once yours to command and rule, were they not? In that case, surely you will not disdain to protect them in case something bad happens… right?"

A calculating glint flashed inside the eyes of the Sun King. Caesar, Cleopatra and Nitocris exchanged a silent glance.

The Divine Servant raised his head with a haughty movement. "Tell me, then: what makes you think so? What makes you think this land shall be wounded by the conflict?" he asked again, tapping the table with a finger.

Iskandar narrowed his red eyes. "Have you already forgotten our previous talk?" he exclaimed with a deep, rumbling voice. "Alexandria was attacked two days ago. A mad Servant has attempted to destroy my city, and if it weren't for me and my companions, he would have succeeded. How is this NOT something to worry about?" he demanded, outraged.

Luviagelta Edelfelt nodded vehemently after the Emperor's words. "Ruler and Rider are right! This situation cannot be ignored," she exclaimed, deadly serious. "Whether we are aware of it or not, many places all around the world are suffering due to Servants fighting each other! Even here in Egypt people have fallen into panic after Avicebron's attack, and many of them are trying to leave this land in order to seek refuge! Chaos is spreading through the very same sands of your kingdom, and fear and terror are plaguing the hearts of the people because of that!"

"Not to mention, of course, the most obvious detail of all," Artoria added right after them, looking and sounding completely serious as well. "Even if Alexandria has been saved for now, there's no guarantee that something similar won't happen in the future."

King Ozymandias stared at each and every member of Shirou's group. "You have no proof of that. All I'm hearing is just your far-fetched speculation," he pointed out, unfazed.

Mordred openly snorted at his stubbornness. "Are you stupid or what? This entire Country has been enclosed inside some kind of spell! How is that a speculation?"

The Sun King glared at the female Knight for her disrespectful words, but Shirou cut in the discussion before things could escalate.

"The kid's got a point. The invisible spell that is blocking our perception skills is still active… this fact alone is bound to mean something. We have no proof of this, but if our previous travels have taught anything to me, I'm willing to bet that nothing good will come out of the current situation. As such, this invisible spell cannot be ignored," he stated, staring at the Sun King with his golden-brown eyes narrowed in a frown.

Caesar's face grew tense at the Ruler's words. "Spell?" he repeated. "Are you referring to the so-called 'Veil' you've mentioned before?"

It was Artoria the one who answered this time. She nodded with a solemn expression. "Correct. There's some sort of Magic Veil enveloping this Country. One that is completely blocking all my perception skills and my Dragon Core," she answered, her face as cold as ice. She shared a nod with Shirou and the others, and her emerald eyes moved to stare at Nitocris with unnerving intensity. "Since there's a Caster among your ranks, surely you must have been aware of it somehow. There's no way you could have missed it."

All the Pharaohs exchanged a silent glance with each other. Ozymandias remained still with an unreadable face.

In the end, Nitocris nodded slowly. "I did notice a sudden change in the air, recently," she admitted, her hands playing with her scepter while the sorceress assumed a tense expression. "Just as you guys suspect, I did detect something weird thanks to my magic. Six days ago, I felt some sort of barrier enveloping our land all of a sudden, and I immediately warned the Pharaoh about it, since I suspected that this 'Veil' had to be some kind of Bounded Field erected by a Servant."

Luvia narrowed her eyes. "If you were aware of its presence, why didn't you do something about it?"

"Because I ordered her not to," Ozymandias answered for her, unfazed. The ancient monarch didn't even flinch under the Ruler's powerful glare, and openly ignored the other Servants' stare. "Whatever it is, this Bounded Field is not causing destruction or damage to my land in any way. It has done absolutely nothing so far, except for tampering our perception skills. However, by doing so, it has also rendered impossible for us to detect its source. We have no way to locate its origin point, nor to discover who is the one who erected it in the first place."

Mordred snorted in annoyance. "So what? You're just going to ignore it until something bad happens?" she spat.

"I'm aware that it cannot be ignored forever, but to lay low was the safest move," Ozymandias replied, ignoring the blatant disrespect of the female Knight. "Or what? Are you actually suggesting that I – the King of Kings – should have mobilized my city in order to wander across the entirety of Egypt in plain sight, risking of being seen and discovered by both the enemy and the common people? All of that in order to search for an unknown Servant who has done nothing but hide and cower so far?" he spat, sarcasm clearly present in his tone.

Bedivere furrowed his brows. "Just because they're hiding for now, it doesn't mean that they won't do something in the future," he reasoned with a serious tone.

Iskandar nodded. "Indeed. The Knight is right. Whoever did this, they cannot be ignored," he summarized, crossing his muscular arms in a solemn movement. "Perhaps they are harmless, or perhaps they are plotting something. Whatever the case, as a former King of this land and ruler of these people, it is my DUTY to find out the truth before it's too late. And if you won't join us in this quest, Sun King, then we shall do it alone. But you will lose all my respect and admiration, along with my acknowledgment as a King."

Ozymandias' eyes flared. "You DARE to speak those words to me, AGAIN?" he hissed, his voice assuming a dangerous edge.

"I do, and I shall do so as long as it is necessary!" the King of Conquerors answered back, unimpressed. "I told you: a King who hides and cowers in the desert while his land and people are in danger is no true King to me."

"And on that, we all agree with him," Shirou spoke for all his companions, staring straight into the Sun King's eyes.

Silence fell for what seemed to be an eternity.

Iskandar glared at Ozymandias. Ozymandias glared at Iskandar.

Until, Mordred snorted with a bored face. "Tch. This is ridiculous," she said all of a sudden, grabbing the Pharaoh's attention. "You're willingly deciding to ignore this Country's problems just because of a selfish whim. That is not how a King should be," she declared, crossing her arms with a solemn movement.

King Ozymandias narrowed his eyes on her. "…what did you just say?" he hissed.

The Knight of Treachery scoffed, rolling her eyes in disgust. "Did I fucking stutter? I said that you're not acting like a King," she repeated, not caring one single bit about her disrespectful words. "A real King would not hesitate to spur into action when his land is in danger. But you… you're just too petulant – no, too scared – to actually do something, aren't you? You're not even attempting to try, just because your people have forsaken you," she mocked him, completely unfazed by the Pharaoh's enraged scowl aimed at her face. For once, almost every single one of her companions agreed with her. "You may call yourself the King of Kings… but aren't you just a coward? What a disgusting lack of honor."

Ozymandias' face twisted into a mask of outrage. "HOW DARE YOU!" he bellowed, raising from his seat and glowering at the female Knight with so much rage and fury that it was honestly surprising to see.

Despite herself, Mordred couldn't help but flinch in tension due to the sudden outburst of the ancient Pharaoh.

For the second time, the Sun King was displaying his superiority in power with just a single stare, and Mordred could do nothing to resist under such an overwhelming force. The sheer blood-lust and rage oozing off from his Divine body was enough to make every Servant tense, and there was no one who could remain unaffected by Ozymandias' powerful glare. Luvia was openly trembling right now, unable to resist under the cold pressure emanated by the Pharaoh. He may be arrogant, but no one could deny that the sun King was powerful. If he so wished, he could have unleashed his temple complex, his horde of sphinxes and his Phantasmal Beasts against the group with but a single command. A Servant capable of doing so could not be underestimated, no matter what.

Everyone observed the scene with narrowed eyes.

While the greatest Pharaoh of Egypt stood from his seat, summoning his scepter and pointing it against the Knight of Treachery with an enraged scowl.

"What do you even know about HONOR?" Ozymandias hissed at Mordred, glowering at her with so much force that even the Knight who was famed for her blatant lack of respect for royalty couldn't help but shiver a little. "You DARE to speak to me about honor? YOU, who are nothing but a TREACHEROUS rebel? YOU, who have done nothing but DESTROY and KILL without a cause?"

Mordred gritted her teeth upon hearing those words, clenching her fists so hard that her arms began to tremble. Her emerald eyes were gleaming with so much rage and fury that it was almost worrying to see. If it weren't for Iskandar's hand placed on her right shoulder, she would have attacked the Pharaoh without a doubt; and screw the consequences.

Because as loathe as she was to admit it… those words were true. And they were hurting her more than words could ever describe.

"YOU are NOT a King! YOU know NOTHING about honor and duty! And you have NO RIGHT to question MY decision and rule!" the Pharaoh continued, ignoring his allies' attempts to calm him down. "All you are is a worthless, treacherous Knight who decided rebel because his father didn't love him. As such, you should stay quiet and know your place before I―"

"Enough."

The Sun King did not have time to finish his rant. What happened next happened so suddenly that he couldn't react to it. He didn't even see it coming.

Everyone widened their eyes and held their breath in shock.

While Shirou Emiya suddenly appeared next to Ozymandias, grabbing his scepter with one hand and glaring at him with a cold, enraged expression.

Iskandar, Artoria and the Knights widened their eyes. Salieri, Caesar and Cleopatra narrowed their gaze. Luvia and Nitocris held their breath.

And Mordred… Mordred just stared at the scene in shock.

Shirou had moved faster than a man could blink. He had appeared next to Ozymandias out of nowhere – literally out of nowhere – in less than a split-second. And no one knew how it happened.

"Careful with your words, Pharaoh," Shirou warned him with a cold tone of voice. His golden-brown eyes were narrowed in a glare as he stared at Ozymandias, his hand firmly grasped around the staff pointed in Mordred's direction. He had moved with such a speed that no one at the table had been able to see him. One moment he was seated next to the female Knight, and the very next one he had already appeared to the Pharaoh's right, almost as if he had teleported out of the blue. No one had been able to see it fully; not even the Sun King himself. "This is the second time you're threatening one of my allies. I won't stand by and do nothing anymore."

The Egyptian Rider eyed the red-haired Ruler with a narrowed stare.

Shirou did not seem to care one bit. "Mordred's words may be rash and disrespectful, but you have no right to speak to her like this either," he declared, deadly serious. "Unlike you, she's willingly doing her best to protect your Country and people, and thus she has every right to question your decision. And while her upbringing and deeds may be questionable, she's still a Knight of the Round Table and, more importantly, King Arthur's son," he declared, making the girl in question widen her eyes in shock while Artoria and everyone else held their breath.

Ozymandias scowled under the Ruler's powerful glare, pursing his lips as the man continued before he could say something.

"That makes her royalty, despite her difficult past and the events leading to her demise and the fall of Camelot. And I will not tolerate any offense and ill will against her on your part," the Ruler spoke, fixing Ozymandias with a powerful scowl. His eyes were literal steel as he glared daggers at the Rider. "Is that clear?"

Iskandar smirked broadly, Gawain smiled sadly, and Bedivere nodded approvingly.

And Artoria…

Artoria took a deep breath, recollecting herself as soon as she could. When her heart finally resumed to beat once more, she nodded with a resolute expression.

"Shirou is right," she said, grabbing everyone's attention. "Despite our… difficult past, Mordred is still a Knight and currently the only heir to the throne of Camelot. That fact remains unchanged," she admitted. She still wasn't able to fully acknowledge her as her son – to be honest, she didn't know if she would ever be able to do that – but this much she could affirm with no hesitation. Whether she liked it or not, Mordred had her blood in her veins, after all. Artoria had rejected her right to the throne and refused to give her acknowledgment to the rebel child, but she had never denied their relation of blood. "She has the right to speak and voice her thoughts in front of you, Pharaoh. Just like Ruler said, she is fighting to defend the world for a good cause – unlike you – and I will not tolerate any threat against her either."

'Although her lack of manners is quite shameful,' the female King inwardly mused.

Mordred stared at her Father and Shirou with her mouth agape. The girl's face couldn't become more red than this. Her eyes were swirling in embarrassment while she was still struggling to process the words her Father had just said.

Iskandar chuckled in amusement. "That, of course, goes for me as well," he spoke at that point, fixing Ozymandias' enraged face with mirth. "I admit that you are powerful, Sun King, and that your legend and deeds are quite impressive. Your flying city is breathtaking as well… but I doubt that even a strong Servant such as yourself would leave unscathed if all of us were to decide to act against you right here and now. Am I right?" he grinned, wide and sarcastic.

The only answer he received was a narrowed glare.

Sheer tension and silence fell amid the dining room all of a sudden. The temperature dropped several degrees, and the air became so cold that everyone felt a shiver run down on their backs despite their better judgment. Heck, Luvia's teeth were literally chattering right now. The poor girl with golden hair could do nothing but hide herself a little under the table, covering behind Salieri's frame out of fear. Her body was trembling like a leaf as she watched the scene in absolute silence.

'How bothersome!' she cursed inside her head. 'Why are these Servants so obsessed with antagonizing each other all the time? Their mood swings make no sense whatsoever!"

Sadly, her musing would remain unanswered.

Shirou and his group kept glaring at Ozymandias while the Pharaoh glared back at all of them. At the same time, his allies kept frantically glancing between them in concern, back and forth.

Seconds passed, followed by minutes. The silence remained absolute and unbroken for an eternity.

Until, someone decided to break it.

"Why?" the Sun King demanded. "Why are you willing to go that far for the sake of humanity's rotten world?" he asked, looking at each and every one of them with a deep scowl.

The only answer that greeted his ears was a tense, absolute silence.

Ozymandias narrowed his eyes, surprised by their stubborn behavior. However, before he could say more, a sudden realization began to blossom inside his mind, and the ancient Pharaoh of Egypt narrowed his gaze even further. After all, he had noticed all too well the tense, concerned emotion flashing inside his guests' eyes as they glanced at each other… and that made him pause in spite of himself.

There was no way he could ever miss that look.

"…what is it that you know?" he asked them, his golden eyes flashing with a cold, calculating suspicion.

Shirou, Iskandar, Mordred and their allies fell into a deafening silence.

And each and every one of the others did not fail to see the concern flashing inside their eyes. Not even Luvia.

"Uhm, guys?" she whispered, her amber orbs flickering between Shirou and the rest of her allies. Despite her inner confusion, the young Magus could not miss the sudden shift in the Servants' behavior. The silent concern written all over their features was simply too obvious to miss. "What is going on here? Why are you being silent all of sudden?"

No one answered to her question. Not Shirou, nor Iskandar, nor anyone else. Even Berserker had grown more tense than ever right now.

She didn't like it. She didn't like it at all.

Caesar, Nitocris and Cleopatra narrowed their eyes on them, perplexed by the sudden shift in the air.

And all the while, Ozymandias observed the tense and cold mask of emotions that Shirou was wearing on his face, furrowing his brows with a suspicious expression.

"Answer me," he ordered, his tone both stern and commanding.

Seconds passed, followed by minutes.

The Ruler and his companions exchanged one, single glance.

And so, in the end, after what seemed to be an eternity, one of them finally took courage with a deep breath and spilled the beans…

…revealing the dark secret that the group had been carrying with themselves ever since they'd left Italy and learned of the theft from the Vatican Archives.

"Have you ever heard of the God of War, Tyr?"

That was Iskandar's quiet reply to their suspicious glare. And even though that question had been made with a calm and collected tone, it echoed inside the dining room of the temple like a thunder. Everyone tensed and stiffened immediately upon hearing that, and silence returned to reign for a second time. Caesar and Cleopatra widened their eyes. Nitocris and Ozymandias startled and jolted. And Luviagelita Edelfet stared at all of them with plain, absolute confusion. No one dared to speak for another eternity of absolute quiet.

Until the silence was broken again, and Ozymandias slammed a fist on his golden table.

"DO NOT SAY THAT NAME!" the Sun King roared all of a sudden, his face displaying a great deal of emotions as soon as he was able to process the other King's words. Anger, shock and fear were certainly there, followed mainly by outrage as well. "DO NOT MENTION IT IN MY PRESENCE EVER AGAIN!"

Fear, shock and disbelief began to impregnate the air inside the gigantic pyramid. The Pharaoh's words echoed like a thunder, and Nitocris, Cleopatra and Caesar stared at nothing with wide eyes, their faces coated in disbelief and horror the more that name continued to echo inside their heads. They looked downright distraught right now… and upon seeing their reactions, for the second time after nearly a week, Shirou Emiya felt a knot forcefully clench his stomach, while his allies remained silent with a solemn expression on their face.

It didn't take him long to realize that both the Sun King and his allies knew that name. It was simply the most logical conclusion, and their current reactions left no room for doubt either. Ozymandias was one of the most ancient Servants, after all, and even Nitocris and the others came from a time where mysteries and legends were still well-known throughout the world. Because of that, it wasn't surprising that they were familiar – or, at least, that they had already heard in the past – of Tyr's name and legend. Consequently, it was logical to assume that they all knew who and what Iskandar was talking about. It was simply logical. Shirou really should have seen this coming.

But even if he was expecting this kind of reaction, it didn't make it any easier for him. The mad beating of his heart simply would not stop.

Nitocris' face was a mask of horror and disbelief as she stared at the Servants' tense expression. "W-Why are you bringing that name in the discussion?" she asked, trying – and failing – to contain her inner shock at the mention of that accursed name.

"Yeah, what is going on here so suddenly?" Cleopatra demanded as well, her beautiful face turning more and more pale under Artoria and the Knights' cold gaze. "What does that monster have to do with anything?"

Said monster felt his heart clench painfully inside his chest after being openly addressed, although indirectly. He just could not help it. Hearing the truth still hurt even after all this time.

Gawain crossed his arms with a solemn movement, his face and gaze showing a steeled resolve mixed with resignation. "Unfortunately, it is a matter of the utmost importance," he explained, remaining unfazed under the stunned gaze of the Pharaohs. "And as much as we wish this was not the case, we have no choice but to discuss about it, for the safety of the world and its future depends on it."

Sheer silence greeted the blond Knight's words. Ozymandias, Caesar, Nitocris and Cleopatra remained frozen like statues.

On the other hand, Luvia seemed more confused than ever by the heavy air that had surrounded the room. She was watching the tense expressions of the others with obvious perplexity. "What's going on here?" she asked, her amber eyes flickering frantically between her allies and the Pharaohs. "Who's this Tyr? I demand an explanation at once!"

The Sun King rounded on her with an outraged face. "DID YOU NOT HEAR MY COMMAND, WOMAN? DO NOT SAY THAT NAME OUT LOUD!" he roared, sounding more serious and angry than ever. He looked downright outraged just by hearing that name that the girl with golden hair openly shrieked under his powerful command, her whole body trembling like a leaf. His voice echoed in the room for several seconds, booming like a bellowing thunder.

Mordred raised a brow under the Pharaoh's tense expression. "So you do know about this guy," she mused with sarcasm, her lips twitching upwards ever-so-slightly.

King Ozymandias sneered at her. "Of course we do," he hissed, his stern face now morphed into a mask of outrage. "The legend of the God of War, humanity's first Hero and the greatest monster the world has ever known. His deeds were well-remembered during my time, and his name was feared throughout every land outside of Egypt. There was no one who didn't know who he was."

As expected from a Pharaoh coming from the Nineteenth Dynasty (1303–1213 BC): he knew who Tyr was extremely well. Not that it was surprising, though. Shirou knew it was bound to happen. Ozymandias was born 2700 years after the Age of Gods, and the world was extremely different back then. The tales of Tyr's deeds, the legend about his cruel actions, and even his accursed name were still well-remembered during that period, because the mysteries of the world had yet to disappear back then. His story and deeds were simply too impactful to be forgotten. Only after another thousand years his name would finally begin to disappear from the memory of the world, during the early centuries of first millennium AC. So, it wasn't surprising that the Sun King and his allies knew of him and his legend. It was simply inevitable.

"But what does Ty― I mean, that man have to do with anything?" Caesar asked, almost laughing nervously as the Pharaoh glared at him for his slip of the tongue. "I thought his existence was simply a baseless legend. A brutal and tragic tale of ancient times with no real accuracy."

Artoria, Iskandar and Mordred shook their head. "It is real. And as much as we wish this was not the case, we have proof of that," the King of Knights stated, her emerald eyes gleaming with solemnity.

Ozymandias eyed all of them warily. "Explain what you mean," he commanded.

And explain they did.

Iskandar and Artoria wasted no time. They told them everything they knew about Tyr, along with all the information they had learned during their previous travels and experiences. They explained everything, with a calm and collected tone, without leaving a single detail behind: the disappearance of the historical records from the Vatican Archives, the stolen documents and artifacts, and even the disappearance of the Acheulean Stone; along with their chat with Caren Hortensia, Lord-El Melloi II and Olga Marie Animusphere about Tyr's threat and – more importantly – about the possibility of facing the God of War as a Servant. They even mentioned their hunt for the witch Morgan le Fay, who apparently was the one behind the theft and the disappearance of Tyr's artifacts and historical records.

And as his companions continued to explain their concern and mission to the Pharaohs, Shirou could clearly see the tension grow inside Ozymandias' face and eyes. He could see his gaze narrowing more and more as the two Kings spoke, along with Cleopatra's paling complexion, Caesar's sweating face and Nitocris' stunned gaze. Even Luvia was listening closely to that explanation with wide eyes, looking as shocked and stunned as the Servants were. However, as amusing as it was to watch their reactions, the red-haired Ruler opted to remain silent and close his eyes, feeling his shame and sadness grow from the inside even in spite of himself. He just couldn't help it. Hearing about this subject always had this effect to him. He would never grow accustomed to it. At least not completely, of course.

For there was no way to escape from his past and sins. There was no way to dismiss the shame growing on the inside.

This was his personal curse, and he was hopeless to overcome it.

When Artoria and Iskandar finished their explanation, silence returned to reign for the third time inside Ozymandias' golden pyramid. The tension in the air was physically perceptible.

Luvia lowered her eyes, her hands sweating as her mind was still struggling to digest all the news. "I-I-I cannot believe it," she muttered with a trembling voice. "So there's a threat even more dangerous than the War looming over the world."

Bedivere nodded with a serious face. "Unfortunately, that's how it is, Miss Luvia. Believe me, we were as shocked as you are when we first discovered it."

Caesar, Cleopatra and the others were as stunned as they could be. "…this is bad," the Roman general whispered, donning a hand over his face. "By Rome, this is seriously bad news."

"T-The God of War… summoned as a Servant?" Nitocris stuttered, unable to conceive such a thing no matter how hard she tried. Her face was covered in sweat by now.

Even Cleopatra's royal face was morphed into a mask of horror. The beautiful woman with aqua-green hair clung to her consort in attempt to find some strength. "It cannot be… it's impossible!" she exclaimed in denial.

The King of Conquerors faced their disbelief with a grim expression. "That's how it is," he admitted without missing a beat. Both his voice and face were as serious as they could be as he stared straight into the Pharaohs' eyes. "We don't know if this God has already been summoned or not, but it is undeniable that his summoning would inevitably bring chaos and ruin upon the world. As you can see, we are in a bad position right now; for the risk of facing such a threat is growing by the day. The situation is quite grim."

"I agree. This is some serious news, indeed."

Everyone turned towards the Servant who had spoken with a serious frown. Even Shirou opened his eyes again, trying so very hard to keep his expression neutral and quell the sadness that was screaming inside.

The Sun King Ozymandias met everyone's gaze with a mask of ice. "I fear no man or God… but even I wouldn't dare to underestimate a powerful opponent; especially one who was remembered as a living monster during my time. The matter of his possible summoning is indeed worrying, and I'm not foolish enough to deny that," he admitted, closing his eyes with a solemn expression. "I know nothing about this so-called witch of yours, but if she's really the one who stole the artifacts as you claim, then she could pose a threat for every land and every country of the planet. That much is obvious."

Shirou, Iskandar, Mordred and Artoria shared a silent glance.

"Yes, we understand the gravity of the situation," Luviagelita agreed as well, nodding with a resolute face. "If this witch is behind the theft, we need to find her before it's too late. Preventing that… God, from being summoned could be of vital importance to end this Holy Grail War. This matter cannot be overlooked," she stated, narrowing her eyes in thought.

Shirou nodded. He knew that summoning Tyr was impossible – he was Tyr, after all – but he agreed in full. This matter could not be overlooked by any means.

They had to find Morgan le Fay and retrieve the stolen artifacts as soon as possible. No matter what the witch was planning to do with them, it couldn't be good. That much was certain.

"Then you see our point," Shirou sighed, glancing in the Pharaohs' direction. "We cannot―"

"HOWEVER!"

Everyone startled in surprise after Ozymandias' sudden interruption. Shirou and his companions turned to the Sun King with narrowed eyes.

The ancient Pharaoh met their gaze with a mask of steel. "While I do admit that the matter regarding the God of War is a serious one, it still does not change my position," he declared all of a sudden, deadly serious. There wasn't even an ounce of hesitation in his golden eyes as he spoke those words, even when faced with the others' disbelieving stare. "I do not fear the Gods' power, and we still have no proof about that monster's possible summoning into the world. Besides, whether his threat is true or not, it still does not change the fact that humanity has become unworthy of my aid and presence. As such, I have no reason to participate in the War, nor to offer my aid to those who refuse me. My decision remains unchanged."

Everyone – and I do mean everyone – stared at him in disbelief after his declaration, unable to understand.

How was this possible? Even when faced with such a news, the King of Kings remained blinded by his ego and stubbornness. He remained unfazed and firm in his decision, as if learning of Tyr's threat and his possible summoning was nothing more than an inconsequential incident to which he wasn't interested in the least. It was absurd. Mind-blowingly absurd. It had no sense. It made no sense. It was simply too absurd and stupid to believe it. Just how stubborn and headstrong this man had the be, to openly declare such a decision after learning of such an ominous threat? It was unbelievable.

Shirou and his friends glared at Ozymandias in shock, unable to restrain their disbelief. And yet, the Divine Servant remained unfazed; uncaring of their thoughts and glare.

One thing was certain, though: no one could stand the Pharaoh's stubbornness. Not even his own allies.

And thus, before Shirou could open his lips to scream and rage at him, something unexpected happened.

"P-Pharaoh, if I may… I would like to say something."

Ozymandias narrowed his eyes amid the uncomfortable silence. His head slowly turned to the right, just like the others did as well. No one said a single word, watching with a narrowed and slightly confused gaze at the Servant who had cut in to the discussion so suddenly.

Nitocris met everyone's gaze with a face filled with worry and hesitation.

"I-I know it is not my place to say this… but I don't think I'll be able to hold myself any longer," she admitted, gulping in nervousness and sweating a little under her beloved Pharaoh's gaze.

The Sun King stared at her, long and hard. Next to the Caster, Caesar and Cleopatra were watching her closely as well, surprised by her sudden decision to enter the discussion.

"King Ozymandias, you are the greatest and mightiest Pharaoh that Egypt has ever seen. The most majestic God, the most powerful monarch, and the King of Kings," Nitocris said, raising from her seat with a swift motion only to kneel in submission on the ground right in front of Ozymandias. "The fact that you have allowed yourself to receive me, this Nitocris, into a relationship with you as your retainer… is a great honor for me. Truly, words cannot express how grateful I am for your benevolence. No matter how much I want to tell you how thankful I am, I will never be able to express my gratitude for you with words and actions alone."

Everyone listened closely to the Caster's display of loyalty. Even Shirou remained silent as he stopped himself from standing up and listened. No one dared to interrupt.

Nitocris bowed her head further. "H-However, I sincerely believe that the current situation is a grim one, and as such I cannot bring myself to waste this is opportunity," she added, swallowing her fears to stare at her Pharaoh with a resolute gaze. "I have silently and closely listened to Lord Iskandar and his companions' words for all this time… a-and despite the thundering of my heart, after learning of this new threat… I can no longer contain the concern that is dwelling within my chest. Therefore, i-if you'll allow me, I wish to share m-my opinion with you… and I can only hope and pray that you'll grant my humble plea to reach your divine ears despite me being nothing more than a novice and a lowly servant."

Shirou, Mordred and Iskandar listened to her words in mild stupor. Well, well, would you look at that. This sudden turn of events was quite unexpected. Nitocris was a Pharaoh just like Ozymandias – the only true Pharaoh here apart from him, actually; since both Iskandar and Cleopatra were more of a King and a Queen rather than true Pharaohs compared to them – but for her to openly declare herself nothing more than a lowly servant compared to him… it was unexpected. This was definitely not what they would have expected to hear from a strong and royal woman such as her. Her loyalty towards the man was truly absolute. And commendable, in a way.

The Sun King relaxed his face and expression after hearing her plea. Slowly, he furrowed his brows and sat again on his small throne with a sigh, fixing the woman in front of him with a serious gaze. "…speak," was all he said, nodding his head with a sharp movement.

Nitocris bowed once again. "I will always abide by your will and words… but I truly believe that we should take Ruler's offer into serious consideration," she spoke with utmost seriousness. "Despite what we previously believed, our Country is indeed suffering right now. The city of Alexandria was nearly destroyed two days ago. The people are growing restless and worried. Even the very same sky above the sands of your domain are being enclosed within an unknown spell. All of that, coupled with the threat posed by this witch and the God of War… I-I don't know why, but I believe that if we continue to ignore the facts any further, this situation will become a recipe for disaster."

Ozymandias stared at the Caster, placing a hand under his chin.

"S-So… perhaps it would be wise for us to start questioning the nature of the current situation," Nitocris suggested, her Anubis-like ears twitching slightly in embarrassment. "If we wish to avoid a greater threat from befalling upon your land."

The Sun King considered her words for a few moments. "So what are you suggesting?" he asked after a long while of pondering, looking and sounding as commanding as ever. "To openly aid Ruler and his group in their quest?"

She swallowed. "…I do believe it would be the right choice, yes," she answered with a humble tone.

Ozymandias' eyes flared. "Nitocris… are you telling me that I should offer my help to them after everything they've said to me?" he hissed, fixing the Caster kneeled in front of him with a powerful stare. The woman openly shivered under his glare alone. "To forgive their disrespect, and to ignore the people's betrayal, all of whom have openly chosen to refusemy authority?" he stressed.

Shirou and his companions donned a hand over their face. Good grief. Talk about holding a grudge for a stupid reason… this man ego's was even worse than Iskandar's.

So this was what Moses had to go through according to legends… no wonder.

Much to everyone's surprise, however, the young Queen who held the throne in the Sixth Dynasty nodded her head.

"I am," she answered, without an ounce of hesitation.

The ancient Pharaoh seemed taken aback by her straightforward response. "…explain," he urged her further.

Nitocris shared a small nod with Cleopatra and Caesar. "Please make no mistake, my King, my undying loyalty will be yours for as long as I draw breath. However, I do sincerely believe that Lord Iskandar and his companions are right on this matter. We cannot ignore Tyr's possible return, for it could cause a great amount of pain and destruction over the world. Your world, Pharaoh. Consequently, it would be best for us to stop hiding in your magnificent city, and to offer our aid to the people instead." She lowered her eyes upon seeing the stern, unreadable gaze that Ozymandias was sending her, and she unconsciously increased her grip on the scepter. "That is what I believe."

Her lord and superior looked quite perplexed after listening to her words. However, before he could open his mouth to speak, someone cut into the discussion once again.

"Lord Ozymandias, I must ask you to reconsider your choice as well," Cleopatra declared all of a sudden. The beautiful Assassin moved a lock of hair from her shoulder, staring at the Sun King with a resolute stare. "Miss Nitocris is right, and I agree with her reasoning in full. It would be best to take action while we still can. We do not doubt your power, but the God of War is a threat we cannot ignore… especially when our land is already suffering a great amount of damage due to the Holy Grail War."

"…you think so too, Cleopatra?" the Pharaoh asked her, narrowing his eyes on his allies.

The Assassin, the Caster and even the fat Saber nodded with no hesitation. Shirou and the others watched them in confusion.

"It is undeniable that the people of Egypt have forsaken you," Nitocris resumed to speak, her voice filled with a determined tone. "However, despite this grave sin, I think it would be wise for us to strive and work to gain their approval, as Lord Iskandar suggested. If you show them mercy, they might begin to acknowledge your authority and brilliance again! If you aid them now, in their moment of need, things will surely be able to change!"

Caesar nodded sagely at her words. "Indeed… Caster's offer holds merit. If you show to the people that you can help and defend them from oppression, they will be drawn to you once more. Even if they've refused to acknowledge your name, witnessing to your benevolence – to your power – could turn the tide in your favor. Isn't that right, my dear?"

"Yes! I wholeheartedly agree!" Cleopatra nodded, enthusiastic. "I'm sure that the fallen sun of Egypt will surely return to shine above our beautiful land if you decide to make the world witness your benevolence!"

The Ruler and his companions listened in mild stupor while those three kept asking and pleading Ozymandias to reconsider his decision, unable to understand the reason behind their actions.

Until, after a few moments of pondering, Shirou widened his eyes. 'Now I see,' he realized, observing the three Servants carefully as realization dawned upon his features. 'This is why they asked him to give ustime to consider his offer before. They were waiting for an opportunity; for a perfect chance to express their desire to take action. The three of them want to help the people just as much as we do… they never agreed with Ozymandias' choice from the beginning, but they never had a chance to say that to his face. This was their intent all along,' he mused, thinking back to the request those three had made to Ozymandias during their previous meeting.

Yes, now everything made sense to him. That was why those three had persuaded the Sun King to make Shirou and his companions stay here for a bit longer. That was why they'd asked him to show his benevolence to them at the end of their previous discussion. All of that had been for this one, single goal: to make the Pharaoh see reason and reconsider his choice. To make him realize his foolish decision. To make him understand that he was making a mistake – without actually telling him that in a direct manner – and avoid a painful scenario. There was no doubt about it.

Caesar, Nitocris and Cleopatra had shared their exact same intent all along. They had always wanted to take action and defend this Country, even long before meeting Shirou and his companions. The only thing that had kept holding them back this whole time was Ozymandias' overwhelming stubbornness.

But now, after witnessing to Iskandar's resolve and having learned of Tyr's threat, they could no longer hold themselves back. They were finally trying to make him see reason in their own way. They were finally trying to do the right thing, even if that meant going against their Pharaoh's decision, the most powerful Servant summoned in this land.

And once he realized that, despite his better judgment, Shirou felt a bit of gratitude blossom in his mind towards them. Those three were weird, and their first meeting had been anything but pleasant, but their hearts were in the right place in spite of all of that. That much was clear for him. It was impossible to miss the purpose behind their actions.

Shirou, Iskandar and Artoria shared a small, amused smile.

While at the same time, Ozymandias stared at his allies in complete silence, his furrowed gaze solely focused on Nitocris, Caesar and Cleopatra.

And all the while, Nitocris bowed her head for the third time, lowering herself completely in front of the Pharaoh while Shirou and the others stared at the scene in slight bewilderment.

"I beg you, Sun King. Please assist the people of this land in their moment of crisis," the Caster begged, sounding completely sincere with her request. "You are the only one who can protect the world from the War, and from the threat of Tyr. Do it for the good of Egypt, and for the glory of your name."

Cleopatra nodded vehemently. "Indeed. Let the people's eyes behold your brilliance, and things shall return peaceful once again!"

"That's right. After all, the man known as Ramesses II is the greatest and wisest ruler Egypt has ever known. Saving your Country and people from a single God's threat should be an easy feat for you… isn't that right, Pharaoh?" Caesar added as well, flashing a sly grin to the Sun King.

Ozymandias studied each and every one of them, his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line.

Luvia, the Ruler and his group of Servants observed the scene with bathed breath.

The silence was so absolute that one could hear a pin drop.

Until, after what seemed to be an eternity, the King of Kings finally reacted.

And he did so by exhaling a long, weary sigh. "…hm. To think that my fellow Pharaohs would make such a request to me… good grief, how unexpected. This is truly unprecedented, indeed," he mused, more to himself than the others in the room. He even shook his head in a display of silent disbelief, staring at his allies with a powerful gaze.

Nitocris and the other two lowered their eyes a bit in shame.

Still, much to Shirou's surprise, King Ozymandias sighed a second time. "However, I suppose there's some merit behind your suggestion," he continued, massaging his chin with a thoughtful expression. "Offering aid to my land in this hour of need could indeed become the perfect means to bring the people's eyes to me. When you reverse someone's opinion, you also turn the tide. Therefore, in a sense, I could surely turn the tide of the current situation in my favor by displaying my greatness to the world. There is no limit to the Pharaoh's power, after all. Everything is within my reach. Also, I do admit that the idea of a God wreaking havoc upon my world is quite annoying… perhaps I should take your request into consideration, after all."

For the first time ever since they came inside his domain, Shirou, Iskandar and Mordred felt a bit of hope blossom inside their hearts. The three of them exchanged a victorious smirk.

Because after nearly five hours of endless discussions and negotiations, the Sun King Ozymandias was finally starting to consider what they'd been hoping for all along. He was finally considering the option of aiding the Country in this hour of need and protect the people from oppression. And that alone counted as a victory in their book. A HUGE victory, in all honesty. Ozymandias was extremely powerful, after all. Having an ancient Servant like him on their side – one who could literally ride on a flying city to travel, and summon an army of Phantasmal Beasts with a single snap of his fingers – was by no means a small improvement to their situation. This Rider would surely become a great asset in order to protect the world, and that much was undeniable.

Honestly, the God of War and his allies were almost tempted to cheer in joy right now.

"Quit your grinning, you lightless ones," the Sun King called out to them immediately, turning to Shirou and the others upon noticing the bright gleam shining inside their eyes. "Make no mistake: I still haven't taken my final decision on the matter. However, should I ever agree to offer aid to my land and people in spite of my grudge against them, I will NOT do it for you. I will only do so due to my fellow Pharaohs' request, as a reward for their loyalty and as a token of consideration in regards to their concern. Only those who are under me shall be granted their happiness. So listen well and mark my words, all of you who have refused my offer: I will NOT ally myself with you, no matter what you you're planning or how much you desire so."

Many of them nearly snorted in exasperation after hearing his warning. Honestly, this man… talk about being stubborn. His head was harder than a rock.

"I recall you saying that you would have granted Ruler his request," Antonio Salieri pointed out from his seat, raising a brow towards the Pharaoh. "What about that? Are you going to go back on your word?"

Ozymandias eyed the Italian Berserker with a bored face. "Of course not. He did offer me a meal worthy of my splendor, after all. Therefore, before deciding what to do, I shall take his opinion and request into consideration," he replied back with ease, offering a slow nod towards the red-haired Ruler with a captivating smirk on his lips. "As well as forgive his previous actions against me. Is that satisfying for you, Shirou Emiya?"

He nodded. "Thank you, King Ozymandias. I appreciate your kindness," he said with a neutral tone.

'Kindness is an exaggeration, but whatever. As far as I'm concerned, this outcome is still more than acceptable,' the Ruler thought to himself, forcing back a rude smirk from his lips.

"And we thank you for your generosity as well, oh mighty Pharaoh," Nitocris spoke right after him, bowing her head along with Caesar and Cleopatra in a gesture of loyalty and appreciation. The two Queens and the Roman general openly smiled in satisfaction upon realizing that their stubborn Pharaoh was finally considering to compromise in regards to their loyalty. "I'm sure that you won't regret it. Saving Egypt should be the privilege of the great Ancestor alone, if we want your greatness to be known to everyone far and wide."

"That's right! There really is no reason to hesitate. Nothing can stop the Sun King, after all," Cleopatra added, clasping her hands together and offering a sweet smile towards the Pharaoh with her eyes closed. A very, very charming smile.

Artoria, Bedivere, Gawain and Luvia openly sweat-dropped at the Assassin's blatant attempt to flatter the Pharaoh in order to mollify him. The true reason behind her action was just too obvious to miss.

Oddly enough, however, it worked.

"Humph. Of course. There nothing greater than I," he scoffed, closing his eyes as he nodded to himself in silent satisfaction. Shirou, Iskandar and Mordred stared with a blank face as the man continued to fed himself with his own ego. "Then I suppose I'll take your request to heart. I shall show the world the prowess of a Divine Pharaoh, and incinerate every threat with my brilliance. All things shall witness to my power, and then everyone will realize the true might of the King of Kings!" he boasted in a loud voice, grinning like a madman.

Despite the man's boastful – and annoying – behavior, Shirou and his allies shared a victorious smile with Caesar, Cleopatra and Nitocris. The three of them flashed them a thumb's up while Ozymandias' was too distracted to notice, satisfied with the current turn of events.

The silent message was clear: worry not, we've got this.

It was already clear for all of them, Servants and humans alike. The King of Kings had taken his decision, no matter how much he could state otherwise. There was no way he would back down from this challenge after having been flattered and coaxed so much by his allies. Shirou could already see the excited glint in Ozymandias' eyes, and he was willing to bet that no matter what would happen from now on, his decision would not change. Now that he had realized that helping this Country could bring his people's affection back to him once more, Ozymandias would not hesitate to act, no matter what. It was simply impossible. Especially now that he had realized he was the only one who could actually do something to prevent Tyr's summoning from happening… even though such a thing was impossible in the first place.

It appeared that flattery was indeed the best weapon against the Sun King, in the end.

As soon as they realized that, Iskandar brought everyone back to focus once again. "Now, then: what do you intend to do, Sun King?" he questioned him, deadly serious. The muscular Rider narrowed his red eyes, fixing the fellow King and ruler of Egypt with a powerful stare. "We've told you everything we know. Will you aid us in our quest, or will you act on your own despite our presence here?"

His question made many amid the group turn towards Ozymandias in expectation. They too wanted to hear the answer to that.

After a few seconds of pondering, the ancient Pharaoh raised his chin with a haughty movement. "I have yet to decide that," he answered, dismissing his scepter with a snap of the fingers. "However, I still haven't forgiven your actions, King of Conquerors. Nor that of your Knight over there," he added, pointing towards Mordred with a nod of the head. The female Knight narrowed her eyes under the man's powerful stare. "I acknowledge the fact that your recent actions have saved many people, and that your presence has brought a lot of news to my attention, but I cannot easily dismiss the disrespect the two of you have showed to me. And it is already clear that you're not going to accept my offer to become my retainer, am I right?"

The Macedonian Emperor nodded in confirmation. There was no way that he could ever accept to become another King's subordinate. Especially to one like him. "Obviously," he confirmed.

Ozymandias smirked. "I thought so. It is a shame, but perhaps it's better this way," he stated, relaxing on his seat again and exhaling a breath. His golden eyes scanned each and every person seated at his table. "I have given you the privilege to stay and rest in my city as guest… thus, it is only fair that you give me time to ponder about these matters before I take my decision. I will give you my answer tomorrow morning, regarding both the Magic Veil and the God of War. Is that acceptable to you?"

Broad shoulders shrugged as Iskandar smirked. "Hm. I'm fine with that," was all he said. He shot a glance in his allies' direction. "Boy? Saber? What about you?"

Both Shirou and Mordred nodded in acceptance. "Fair enough," they said in unison.

"We have no complaints either," Artoria agreed as well, speaking also for her Knights and Luvia. Salieri, as always, did not give a damn.

Ozymandias grinned. "I expected no less. Then, I will use the night to think about this matter, and discuss what to do with my fellow Pharaohs. This is what I've decided, and what I shall do," he declared, his voice filled with confidence and decision. "But rest assured, all of you: tomorrow, when the sun will rise over the dunes in the East, I shall give you my answer."

Everyone nodded in acceptance to his words. The tension slowly began to disappear from the air.

"As expected by the Sun King! You truly are the wisest Pharaoh that Egypt has ever had," Caesar praised him after hearing his statement, while Cleopatra and Nitocris shared a high five under the table.

"Spare me your flattery, Saber. I'm doing this only because something has piqued my interest," Ozymandias said, fixing the object of said interest with an unreadable stare. On his part, Shirou stared back at him with a blank face. "I will allow you to rest here for the night as guests. You are free to roam and explore my city to your heart's content, and also to use the main facilities such as the royal baths if you so desire. But I expect you not to cause damage to my place, and to be on time tomorrow when it is time for you to hear my decision. Is that understood?"

Shirou and his allies nodded again, satisfied with the decision. Among them, Iskandar and Luvia openly brightened in excitement at the prospect of being able to use the royal baths of the Temple of Ozymandias. Such a luxury was something they were surely looking forward to, and they were going to enjoy no matter what, since it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. There was no way they could ever miss such an opportunity, especially Luvia.

Silence returned once again. Once the Pharaoh made his statement, the tension completely disappeared from the dining room, and everyone visibly relaxed after a couple of seconds.

Peace and quiet finally returned to reign inside the Temple Complex.

Hence, now that this was settled, Shirou opted to distract everyone with a much more relaxing matter.

"So… there still a bit of food left," he casually said, raising from his seat and looking at the tray of food on the right. "Anyone wants a third serving?"

Tension returned once more, followed by a sudden explosion of voices.

Chaos erupted.

"I do!"

"Me, me, me!"

"Hey! I want another serving too!"

"Hohohoh! I shall gladly accept your offer, Ruler."

"No way! You already had a huge fill!"

"My King, your expression right now is scary…"

"No! Give it to me, Shero! Servants don't even need food anyway!"

"Don't even think about it! That serving is mine!"

"Bring it on!"

"Please stop making that face, Lord Caesar!"

The table shook and trembled as war – a full-fledged war between Servants – began to spread chaos and ruin once again.

Shirou exhaled a weary sigh. Perhaps his suggestion had been a mistake.

Eventually, however, things settled down once again. Shirou managed to divide the leftovers equally, and everyone was happy as soon as they got their third serving. And despite their exaggerated manners, the Ruler felt honestly flattered by the others' reaction to his food. He knew that Mordred, Iskandar, Artoria and the Knights always enjoyed his cooking thanks to their previous travels, but he wasn't expecting to see the exact same reaction from Caesar and the Pharaohs as well. Heck, even Ozymandias was eating his fill with a pleased expression on his usually stern face. Shirou knew he had a lot of experience in cooking since it was his favorite hobby – living alone for more than four thousand years with nothing to do but hunt and cook had forced him to experiment a lot, after all – but he was sincerely overwhelmed by the scene. I mean, it just didn't make sense. He wasn't that good… right?

"I'm curious, though," Antonio Salieri said all of a sudden, grabbing everyone's attention while he openly stared at Shirou. The Berserker was fixing him with a narrowed stare, as if he was unable to grasp something. "You mentioned something about a secret ingredient before dinner, but all I saw when you were cooking were normal ones."

The red-haired Ruler openly smirked at his question. That was easy.

"Oh, that's rather simple, really," he said, shrugging a little and scratching his neck under everyone's gaze.

The group looked at him in wonder as his lips curved into the kindest smile some of them had ever seen on his face.

"The secret ingredient is love," he explained.

As expected, the reactions to his answer were… interesting, to say the least.

Salieri didn't waste a moment to spit his food as soon as he registered those words. Cleopatra and Nitocris got shocked mid-swallowing. Caesar looked perplexed, and the Knights of the Round Table blinked in mild stupor while Luvia struggled to quell her growing blush. Iskandar, on his part, looked completely lost and confused by his answer, similarly to Mordred. They clearly had no idea if he was being serious or not right now.

On the other hand, instead, Ozymandias just stared expressionless at him, as if someone had just told him something so shocking that he couldn't react to it. Shirou didn't say anything, but it was a looks that suited him. No matter how crazy he looked like that.

And Artoria… she just blushed. Madly.

"…seriously?" Mordred asked with her eyebrow twitching; to which the Ruler simply shrugged.

"The person who taught me the basics of cooking once told me: 'I always put as much love into it as I can, that way I know it will taste great'," he stated with an exaggerated voice, coughing a little as everyone figured that he was imitating this person by how confident he sounded. "With time, I ended up doing that, and this was the result. To this day I don't know if she was messing with me or not," he said, gesturing towards the food.

'Damn you, Astraea,' he inwardly added with a sigh.

Everyone looked at him in wonder after his weird explanation. A few moments of silence passed.

"…be as it may, I still cannot believe that something so delicious was cooked by a Servant," Nitocris admitted, munching her vegetables with a delighted expression. She looked at the red-haired man with a completely dazed expression. "Your culinary skills are commendable, Ruler. You would have made a fine servant during my past."

"Indeed. This food was satisfying enough. You really did surprise us tonight, Ruler," Ozymandias praised him as well, hiding a smile behind his hand. "You've drawn some of my interest, and that alone should be an honor for a lowly Servant such as yourself. Now listen close: for I shall permit you to become my personal chef! REJOICE!"

Shirou forced back a flinch with a nervous laugh while almost every single member of his group glowered at the Sun King. He did bow his head in appreciation, though.

Luvia could not miss this chance either. "No! Shero, please ignore these Servants' shallow offers and become my butler instead! I'm willing to pay for your service, so would you consider it?" she asked him, looking and sounding completely serious with that question.

Mordred shot her a stare. "As if. Keep dreaming," she snorted, glaring at the blonde girl with a challenging expression.

"Saber's right. The boy is staying with us. I'm not going to let go of such a fine treasure," Iskandar stated with a boisterous laugh, patting Shirou's shoulder with a grin.

Artoria glared at him in irritation. "Stop being so possessive of him, Rider."

"Possessive? Look who's talking."

Shirou deadpanned at the whole exchange. 'Am I just an object to you guys?' he mused with sigh.

While everyone at the table began to glare at each other, Shirou exhaled a sigh, shaking his head in exasperation. Good grief. There really was no way to escape this situation, was it? Why couldn't everyone just get along during a meal? He really did not understand these kids and their weird thinking.

However, before he could move to placate things once again, Caesar coughed to grab his attention, and the God turned to him. The smile on his chubby face was absolutely captivating.

"By the way, Ruler… would you happen to have some more? I wouldn't mind another serving―"

"NO!"

The fat Saber openly startled in surprise at Cleopatra's sudden explosion. The beautiful Assassin was shaking her head, fixing her consort with a stern expression. "You need to restrain yourself, Lord Caesar. From now on, your daily calorie intake should be dropped to 1500! It's decided!"

The poor man paled immediately, sweating bullets from every pore. "P-Please give me a break, my dear…"

Everyone stared at the scene in amusement, and the air was filled with laughter.

And thus, dinner continued; and the night kept getting darker.


.

/+/+/+/+/+/+/

.

"When did you first meet the Fairies?"

Astraea is gazing at me, inquisitively. Wiping a trickle of sweat from my brow, I set down my forging hammer and look back at her. Her face is blank and enigmatic. I suspect that she already knows the answer to her own question, but I decide to indulge her all the same.

"I met King Oberon last," I start in a careful voice. "Ábartach and Wryneck had to thoroughly explain my circumstances before I was granted permission to meet him. It was... an interesting experience."

I take a look at the knife I'm trying to forge. The heat and quality of the metal are good, but the shape is not quite right yet. I'll have to shingle it later.

"Onfam came to me after he heard about my skills; he asked me to forge him a knife for his hunting job. And I met Faye during the celebration."

"And Vivian?" Astraea asks.

"She's the first one I've met, I've known her the longest," I reply. "She's the one who told her race about my existence, actually. According to her, I've piqued her interest from the first time she saw me, apparently."

The Goddess seems sad. "And you met her at the lake?"

"Yeah, I was doing chores for a small village nearby when I stumbled upon the lake by luck. Why do you ask?"

The morning sunlight breaks upon Astraea's face. Her amber eyes are inscrutable as they reflect the pale glow. She brushes away some dust from my face.

I frown when she sighs.

"Nothing."

She leans towards me, her golden hair cascading on her shoulder.

"Do you think that if I wasn't a Goddess, if our races weren't enemies… we could have been friends?"

.

/+/+/+/+/+/+/

.


Planet: Earth
Date: June 13 2020
Location:
Ramesseum Tentyris – Skies above the Western Desert (Sahara - Egypt)

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Shirou couldn't sleep that night. No matter how he wished this wasn't the case, the nightmares wouldn't allow him to rest.

Therefore, it was with a heavy sense of resignation that he kept wandering through the empty streets of Ramesseum Tentyris, exploring the Temple Complex in silence with a silent step. Midnight had barely passed a few minutes ago, everyone was sleeping, and a full moon was shining in the cloudless sky above; illuminating the city complex with its soft, pale glow. The God of War stood directly near the edge of the flying complex, watching the world below while the entire city and the pyramid towering in the middle of it kept flying through the air in silence, darting in the sky above the empty sands and dunes of this Country without making a single sound.

During dinner, Shirou and his companions had obtained a various number of information through their discussion with Ozymandias and his allies. Among said information, they had learned the fact that this majestic Temple Complex could actually to fly for several days straight without stopping, moving across the sky with a speed comparable to that of a train and thus allowing the Sun King and his allies to move from one corner of Egypt to the other with ease. As long as the Sun King had enough mana – and will – to sustain it, he could compel this city to move non-stop, allowing it to fly for as long as he deemed necessary. Apparently – however – Ozymandias preferred to make his Temple Complex travel only during the night, in order to avoid being seen by the humans who swarmed the world below… but both Nitocris and Caesar had claimed that this precaution had been in vain, in the long run. According to them, a few people had still managed to see the complex in the past, when the Pharaoh had insisted to change their previous hiding location… which had forced them to fly directly above a few cities due to that selfish whim of his.

Which, admittedly, explained a lot. Now Shirou knew what the news meant when they said that some 'paranormal phenomena' had been filmed in the skies of Alexandria and Cairo almost a week ago. It had been Ozymandias' flying city all along. Honestly; these Kings and their arrogance. He should have known.

Tonight, the same thing was happening once again. Ozymandias was making his city fly through the sky for the second time, determined to show off his power in front of Iskandar and the rest of his guests. He did not intend to change his hiding location again, but apparently, there was a place that the Pharaoh wanted to reach, and he was determined to arrive there by morning before he could give his answer to Shirou and his gang. When questioned about the place he wanted to reach, Ozymandias had not given a precise answer to his allies; but he had sported a confident smirk on his face, saying to Shirou and the others to look forward to the next morning. After that, he had excused himself from the dining room, and the red-haired Ruler and had not seen him ever since.

The sigh that escaped his lips was both weary and resigned at that thought.

'So far, every single King I've met has been nothing but a pain. Good grief… I hope my patience will be able to last at this rate,' he mused with a shake of the head, smiling in resigned acceptance.

His golden-brown eyes narrowed, watching with a calculating gaze as the city and its complex kept flying above the world. Right now, Ozymandias' flying complex was darting above the rocky sands of the Western Desert of Egypt, crossing the Sahara with disarming ease and silence. The cold wind caressed his skin – at night, temperatures dropped below the zero in the desert – but the God of War did not react to it, merely covering his chest and body with his white cloak, unfazed by the freezing wind. On the horizon, far to the East, his eyes could barely glimpse the waters of the Nile river in the distance, which flowed from the Sudan and through the length of Egypt to the Mediterranean Sea, splitting the desert in two. It was a breathtaking sight; one that made him pause and stare for five minutes straight.

For once, despite his heavy mind, Shirou Emiya could not lie to himself. This sight was mesmerizing. The dark, cloudless sky filled with stars above his head, coupled with the wide, endless desert made of barren soil created a truly beautiful view indeed. It was so mesmerizing that it almost made him forget about his thoughts. About his nightmares. And about his worries. It was a feeling that Shirou hadn't experienced in a long time, perhaps ever since his "previous life" during the Age of Gods. But now that he was back in the Real Side of the World, now that he was seeing his world and his homeland again… he just couldn't help it. Especially upon witnessing such a beautiful sight.

Many people usually associated the desert with boring and lifeless matters. However, people who had ever been into a desert for an extended period of time (just like Shirou had, both now and during his previous travels in life) knew that it wasn't true. They were convinced of the very contrary. The desert possessed a multitude of identities, a source of majesty and life-giving natural beauty, along with barrenness and yet incalculable mysteries. With its wide, infinite beauty it shattered all the human's notions of time and held out the offer of an intensity of meaning and renewed self-awareness that was as irresistible as it was rewarding. It was no coincidence, in fact, that many travelers had been lured by the beauty and the mesmerizing stillness of the deserts for generations; even if that meant leaving behind the comfort of what was familiar in a quest for adventure, knowledge, and escape to get a taste of eternity.

Even after all this time, it was working. And now that Shirou was staring at this endless sight, perhaps for the first time ever, he actually managed to forget about the nightmares, about the War, and about the threat of Tyr and Morgan le Fay.

But he did feel the incoming presence all the same.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Even as distracted as he was, there was no way he could have failed to detect this signature of mana. Artoria Pendragon's approach could never go unnoticed due to her inhuman amount of prana and the sheer power oozing from her royal frame. It was simply impossible to miss her presence, especially for a being like him.

Shirou's lips curved into a smile. "Feeling sentimental tonight, your majesty?" he jested with a sly tone.

The King of Knights stepped next to him, her face devoid of feels as she stared at the endless horizon stretching in front of them. But she did smile a little at his sarcastic remark.

"Perhaps a little. I do feel the need of a moment of quiet after listening to Ozymandias and Iskandar's endless chatter for five hours straight," she admitted, deciding to be honest for once. "Even my patience has a limit."

He laughed a bit, feeling that he could relate to that. "I know that feeling."

They stood next to each other near the edge of the flying city, watching the desert and the sky while the wind kept caressing them both, billowing their hair and clothes.

Artoria glanced at him. "Couldn't sleep?" she asked after an entire minute of silence.

Shirou nodded, holding back a frustrated sigh. "Yeah… I feel restless for some reason, so I thought it would be nice to distract myself for a bit," he answered, mixing a bit of truth and lies. He couldn't exactly tell her that he couldn't sleep because the memories of his accursed past kept haunting him every time he forced himself to close his eyes and rest. "The sight is nice, and I enjoy the desert's silence. It is quite relaxing, all things considered."

She looked at him for a while, before focusing her emerald eyes to the horizon. "I get what you mean," she spoke with a soft tone of voice. "Back when I was King of Camelot, I would usually go out on my balcony at night to observe the starry sky in solitude. It helped me clear my mind and easy my burdens when they became too much for me to bear."

The Ruler said nothing, for he knew that she wasn't finished.

"But ever since I came back to the world, I realized that I shouldn't have born them alone," she continued, glancing at the red-haired man with a sympathetic expression. "Perhaps they weren't for me to bear."

"You shouldn't have faced them alone in the first place," Shirou agreed with a resolute tone.

"Then why won't you tell me what is bothering you right now?" she asked back at him, deadly serious.

Shirou pursed his lips, his hands clenching into trembling fists. As expected, this woman was able to read his uneasiness thanks to their connection. He inwardly cursed his life in frustration.

Artoria did not relent. "I wish to help you, Shirou," she said to him with a sincere tone. "I can help you with your problems if there's something bothering you. You know I can."

He shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, but there's no need," he dismissed her, not for the first time. "My burdens are not for you to bear, Artoria. I will deal with them on my own."

Oddly enough, her emerald eyes narrowed at his words. Something weird and knowing flashed inside them for a moment. "If I recall your previous words, Shirou, you said that you would have tried to rely on me in the future," she pointed out with a stern tone, her expression clearly showing her dissatisfaction with his stubbornness. "You promised to make an attempt."

He smiled a rueful smile. Self-mockery oozed off from his every pore. "That I did," he admitted.

"Then why are you still trying to put some distance between us?" she demanded, turning to him completely and giving him her full attention. "Why won't you trust me?"

Shirou wanted to die. Like, right now.

Alas, that wasn't an option right now. So he forced himself to quell the instinct to stab himself in the heart and exhaled a weary sigh instead. "It's not that I don't trust you," he began to say, his voice carrying a lot of weariness and frustration. "It's me. Me. You're not the problem, Artoria. You never were, and you'll never be. I'm the problem."

The female King stared at him, furrowing her brows at his tired tone. Tentatively, she tried reaching out to him with one hand, but she stopped herself mid-movement as soon as she realized what she was doing. She inwardly cursed her inability to be honest with herself and her emotions, and opted to voice the question in her heart instead.

"…why?" she asked, trying to be as soft as she could.

The expression on Shirou's face was both conflicted and self-loathing as he paused. His eyes lowered as wind billowed his hair and cape.

"It's just… I don't… I don't like to talk about myself," was all he said. All he could say, conflicted as he was. "I absolutely hate it, in fact. I just need to distract myself, that's all."

Artoria seemed taken aback by his answer. She blinked in perplexity for a few moments. "I remember you saying that before," she commented, thinking back to their previous talk during their journey by ship to reach the African Continent. "But is that really an issue? I don't enjoy talking about my failures either… but that did not stop me from facing my mistakes. Do you really dislike talking about yourself so much?"

"Yes."

The answer was firm and absolute. The was no hesitation in his tone. And as absurd as it was, the red-haired Ruler was not lying with his answer. On the contrary, he was being incredibly honest right now. Not only he really disliked talking about himself, but he knew he couldn't do so due to his current mission and Gaia's warning. Besides, he didn't only dislike talking about himself―― he absolutely loathed it. He hated it. He felt disgusted just by the thought of it. There was simply no way he could ever speak out loud about this subject.

His past, his sins, his mistakes… he hated them. His true name, his ideals, his deeds as the God of War… he hated them. He hated all of it and all of that, with every single fiber of his being. He felt appalled just by the thought of it. Even worse, just thinking about his past and all the atrocities he had committed in life was enough to make him feel physically sick. His previous reaction to the theft of Tyr's artifacts had all but proved it. He was still struggling to digest that news even now, after all. So… there was no way he could be able to talk about this. Not now, not ever. It was simply too painful – too shameful – for him.

That was the truth. His truth, at least.

"You're always willing to help those in need, but you refuse to be helped by others. I don't believe that is healthy for you."

Shirou lifted his eyes up to Artoria's hardened expression as she glared at him. The King of Knights looked beautiful and mesmerizing while enveloped by the moonlight, her elegant face ruined only by the frown marring her royal features. "When I tried to shy away from your help, you always found a way to break through my walls. So why won't you let me help you in turn?" she asked, unable to completely restrain her inner frustration.

The smile that grew on his lips was both amused and sarcastic. "It's because I'm a selfish person deep down," he answered.

Again, that was true as well.

Artoria narrowed her emerald eyes on him. "You're so… infuriating sometimes, Shirou," she all but sighed with annoyance, pouting a little and making him chuckle in amusement. "Always thinking what's best for others, and yet unable to accept advice when you clearly need it. It is becoming quite vexing for me."

"I'm sorry for making you worry," was all he said.

The female King shook her head, moving a strand of golden hair from her face. She eyed him sideways with a disappointed expression. "Are you really going to ignore a King's offer?" she pressed, unwilling to relent.

The God of War shrugged. He did appreciate Artoria's attempts to help him – make no mistake – but he simply was in no condition to accept them. Both his past and his mission had to remain hidden, and there was no way for him to reveal the truth on his own. He simply could not help it, because this was NOT a matter concerning him alone. On the contrary, many things were at stake here, and he had to keep this secret to the grave if he wanted to succeed in his quest. The stability of the group and the safety of the planet depended on his mission and his farce, after all. It was just too important.

Consequently, no matter how painful, shameful and wrong it was, he had to keep hiding the truth and his problems from everyone. There was no other way.

Emiya Shirou steeled his mind. "I told you, I don't like to talk about it," he repeated, forcing himself to assume a stern tone. "Call me hypocritical and foolish if you want, but I won't say anything. End of the story."

Sheer silence greeted his statement. Seconds passed, followed by minutes.

The Ruler stared at the Saber. The Saber glared at the Ruler.

Until, the proud King of Chivalry decided to do things her own way.

Artoria Pendragon hated to lose, after all.

"Then spar with me."

Shirou blinked once. Twice. He blinked thrice as he stared at the woman in obvious confusion.

"Pardon?" he asked.

"Spar with me," the female King repeated, looking absolutely serious with her request. Her face and eyes betrayed nothing but sheer determination as she kept her gaze glued to the red-head's face. "You said that you need to distract yourself. In that case, summon your weapon, and spar with me to your heart's content. That will surely help you distract yourself, am I right?" she stated with a sly tone, her lips twitching upwards ever-so-slightly.

Not for the first time, Shirou remained stunned by this woman's actions. "…but why?" he asked, unable to understand.

Artoria shrugged, completely serious with her intentions. "If you won't talk with words, then I'll make you talk through your swordsmanship," she explained, unfazed by the man's hesitation. With but a single twitch of the hand, Excalibur appeared in her waiting palm in a flash of light, its majestic brilliance shining in the dark of night with an enchanting glow. "As I've said, even my patience has a limit, and I grow tired of your constant refusals. If you won't let me help you like you did with me, then I will find a way to break your walls in my own way. Even literally, if necessary."

Despite his better judgment, the red-haired Ruler felt a shiver run down his spine under the woman's cold, unyielding statement. The smile on her face was anything but reassuring right now.

A trickle of sweat fell from his chin as he stared at her. "…you're just a sore loser, aren't you?" he couldn't help but ask.

The faint blush spreading on her cheeks was definitely amusing to see, though. "Summon your weapon," she warned him, assuming a combat stance.

Much to her growing frustration, however, Shirou shook his head. "I think not, your majesty," he spoke with a condescending tone, crossing his arms in a slow movement. Faced with her annoyed frown, he decided to continue before that woman could decide to charge at him. He was ready to bet that she wouldn't hesitate to do so, for some reason. "I don't know if you've forgotten, but the Sun King has asked us not to cause trouble in his city. And despite its magnificent splendor, I'm not exactly fond of your blade," he added, pointing a finger towards the golden sword.

In any other occasion, his sarcastic remark would have been needless. Perhaps even offensive, in a way. Excalibur was one of the most beautiful weapons in existence, after all… but in this one occasion, it was understandable. Shirou had already been hit by the Sword of Promised Victory once, and that had NOT been a pleasurable experience. His previous contact with the golden blade had been painful, more than words could ever describe, and his body had needed a lot of time to completely heal from the wound inflicted on his arm by it. So, it was only natural that he had grown wary of it, even more so than he already was. Despite what many believed (himself included) Shirou was not reckless. Not too much, at least.

And besides, the Ruler was not a fool. He knew that blade better than anyone – even more than Artoria, in a sense – since he was the one who had forged and wielded it first. Consequently, he was well aware of his connection to it, even to this day. Although he had all but lost the right to wield and use that sword due to his suicide and the Ritual, in fact, the connection between the God of War and the mightiest of his weapons still remained, albeit faintly. It was simply impossible to sever it completely, no matter what, because his very own soul was reacting to its other half enclosed within the Divine Construct. Consequently, Shirou was extremely weak against that blade.

It wasn't a matter of power. It wasn't a matter of strength. It wasn't even a matter of Magecraft, or will. It was something more deep. More visceral. Something due to the fact that Excalibur was connected to his soul, and that the two of them had spent countless years fighting side by side, facing all kind of enemies. Not to mention, moreover, that the Sword of Promised Victory was Tyr's best weapon, and also the very same blade with which he had performed the Ritual on the Rock… and ultimately killed himself. Therefore, due to all these facts and countless other reasons, his weakness to that blade was something he could never avoid and underestimate, no matter what.

So… yeah. He had every reason to be wary of such a challenge. Shirou was not a simple-minded fool. Not anymore.

Artoria paused and stilled after his words, narrowing her eyes slightly for a few seconds filled with tension. Until, after an initial moment of perplexity, the memory of Shirou being hit by her sword at the end of her duel with Mordred suddenly flashed in her mind.

The God of War saw the realization blossom on her features almost immediately. He smiled a bitter smile as the woman widened her eyes. "I don't know why, but your blade has a conceptual effect on my body," he lied, trying to sound as convincing as he could. "Not even one of my fully-reinforced blades could withstand a single slash from that sword, and my body was considerably weakened by its attack. So… I apologize, but I'm not going to face you in a direct clash. I'm not suicidal, after all."

The King of Knights lowered her blade, her expression lost in her own thoughts as his words started to sink in.

"…I see. There's no helping it, then."

Seeing that she was starting to relent, Shirou was about to sigh in relief. However, much to his disbelief, the proud and graceful King Arthur managed to surprise him with her next action once again.

In fact, before he could even exhale a single breath, the woman dismissed the golden sword and extended a hand towards him.

"In that case, give me another sword," she ordered, staring straight into his eyes. "I shall use one of your Projections for this duel. That way everything should be fine."

Shirou stared at her with his mouth agape. He tried very hard to restrain it, but he couldn't quite stop the twitching of his eyebrow. "I don't think―"

"It wasn't a question."

The red-haired Ruler swallowed a groan. The female King had cut him off with such a stern tone that he honestly felt unnerved a little by the strength behind her words. He had never seen Artoria act like this before; not even during her duel with Mordred. This was the first time Shirou was seeing the King of Knights act so… so stubbornly. Almost selfishly so. It was an unprecedented situation; one that he would have never thought to see from a strong, collected Servant like her. Especially because she was supposed to be the proud and cold Arthur Pendragon, the perfect King without emotions.

Instead, it seemed that this woman was finally starting to act like a human being. She was actually starting to improve with time… and that was a good thing. It was heartwarming, in a way. As well as incredibly frustrating (in this situation, at least).

Because now, as the unknown God finally realized, it wasn't entirely pleasant to be on the receiving end of Artoria's "help". He really should have seen this coming.

In the end, however, Shirou exhaled a sigh and finally forced himself to comply despite his mental wariness. He knew that trying to refuse her offer was useless. It was no use. Despite what many would have said, in fact, there were many things that Artoria Pendragon had in common with Mordred. Among them, courage and resolve were traits that both of them shared in full, as well as their passion for swordsmanship. And just like her rebel child, the King of Knights was also incredibly stubborn. It was no wonder where the kid had got her temper from. That much was obvious for Shirou, no matter what Artoria and Mordred would have said about this matter.

Hence: he knew he had no way to claw his way out of this situation.

Shirou resigned himself with a sigh, donning a hand over his temples. "As you wish, your majesty."

Artoria smiled in satisfaction, nodding in his direction with a challenging gaze.

When he finally managed to steel himself, the red-haired Ruler shook his head and dismissed his previous annoyance. If the King of Knights wanted to spar against him so badly, then he had to indulge her in her wish. Not only it would have been rude not to, but he could also make good use of this opportunity. He didn't like to admit it, but Artoria was right: he needed a distraction right now. He needed something to stop thinking about his past, his worries, and the threat looming over the world. And facing a legendary Hero of old like King Arthur Pendragon himself was a perfect opportunity to do so. It could actually turn out to be interesting, to be honest. Shirou had trained and sparred with Mordred many times during his previous travels with her and Rider, but this was a first. He could almost look forward to it, a little.

With a twitch of his fingers, he summoned a sword into his waiting palm, and gently handed it over to the waiting King in front of him. It was not a katana or an eastern sword like the ones he usually summoned in combat, but actually a western longsword this time. One that had a similar shape of Excalibur: with its weight, width, length and balance nearly identical; so that it could be easily wielded by the female King thanks to that.

Offering a nod of thanks to him, the blonde woman accepted the sword without a word. She weighted it in her hands for a few moments, and when she was satisfied with it she moved a few steps back from the Ruler, prompting him to do the same. The two warriors walked away from the edge of the flying city, opting to move towards a wide clearing near the main street leading to the Temple Complex.

"Are you ready, Shirou?" the Saber asked from across the wide clearing.

He did not answer, merely staring at her in silence while he tossed away his white cloak. Steely green eyes. Flaxen hair. Musculature unsuited to a simple woman, but perfectly suited to a Knight. Armor that shone like silver moonlight, and a pale and soft complexion that would have rendered many men speechless. Artoria Pendragon stood proudly in front of him, proud and beautiful like the moon shining on the above, staring straight into his eyes with a gaze of steeled resolve. She resembled Mordred in appearance, but despite the physical resemblance, she lacked her child's recklessness and rash behavior; replaced by a cold, confident aura of strength and will. Unlike her rebel son, in fact, she was a grown woman, well-rounded and mature in every aspect; and yet she still had the dispassion of not just a ruler, but a Divinity. And Shirou could see that extremely well.

Curse that accursed Scabbard.

He dismissed those thoughts, clearing his mind with a shake of the head. He offered a nod in response to her question, and stared at her with a narrowed gaze devoid of emotions.

On the other side of the clearing, the King of Knights did the same. "Good. Then prepare yourself… here I come!" she cried.

Yet, he did not move. He simply stood, empty-handed and motionless, waiting for the King of Knights as she charged at him with a cry of resolve. A single flicker of doubt crossed her eyes when he still did not materialize a weapon or retreat, making her question his intent. Unlike Mordred, in fact, Artoria had never fought against Shirou before. She had no idea of what to expect while facing him in a direct duel. And the God of War was going to relish the chance to see just how different this woman was compared to her rebel child.

The clash began immediately, followed by a roar of wind.

When she reached him, all doubt and hesitation was gone. Artoria swung her blade, and Shirou dodged back in a swift step, parrying the blow with the newly-projected shortswords in his hands. Kanshou and Bakuya clashed against the projected longsword in a shower of sparks, blinding his sight for a moment before spinning inside her guard with a skillful movement. However, the King of Knights leapt back immediately, avoiding his twisting strikes with ease and dashing back in. Even with his eyes reinforced with Magecraft and experience, the red-haired Ruler struggled to follow her speed. Her attacks and movements were fast and powerful, her slashes completely invisible to the eyes; and for a split second, Shirou remained stunned by her display of skills. The King of Knights was indeed a very powerful Servant. Perhaps the strongest one he had faced in terms of strength so far. He could already tell that much with just a single glance.

Faster than a mere human eye could follow, they clashed again. Sparks flew in the air and the clatter of steel rang out across the Temple Complex. The Ruler almost grunted in surprise as their blades clashed again, moving and slashing furiously in every direction in order to deflect and parry the opponent's attacks. As expected, the difference in strength and abilities between Artoria and Mordred was as clear as day. The Knight of Treachery was strong and brash, her attacks faster than lightening; but the King of Knights was a living force of nature. Her skills and abilities were vastly superior, and her swordsmanship much more elegant compared to that of her rebel child. The only reason she had lost the duel against her in the past was because of Mordred's raw fury, but there was no doubt in Shirou's mind that this woman was much more dangerous than her. He could already bet on it.

But he was fine with that. As Shirou kept his eyes narrowed and focused his efforts to parry her assault, he could almost feel his lips twitch upwards in a small smile. It had been a very long time since he had faced such a skillful warrior in a duel, after all. He felt almost excited, even in spite of himself. His smirk became a full-fledged grin as he readily spun around to block a sudden lunge aimed at his neck, parrying the attack with the cross guard of his twin blades. The power behind the attack was so immense that he almost felt his arms begin to shake, trying his very best to resist under the woman's unyielding pressure.

Indeed, he could clearly see it. Shirou was extremely familiar with Mordred's fighting style. Putting aside his experience as a God and a veteran warrior, he had trained with the female Knight countless times during the past month, and he had learned to recognize her style better than anyone thanks to that. But Artoria's fighting style was another story entirely. Unlike the kid who was brash and straightforward in her assault, there were no flaws and no opening in her style… only strength and power alone. A power that was due to mixture of experience, Mana Burst, and elegance. Each of her strikes was dangerous and well-aimed, every blow wide and loaded with a strength powerful enough to make the average Servants tremble and stumble back in pain, and her movements were elegant yet deadly at the same time. A stunning combination of grace and death, powered by a stunning display of swordsmanship and experience. There was no way he could deny the fact: this woman was powerful. Extremely powerful; almost incredibly so.

Artoria Pendragon was the most skillful opponent he had met so far. As such, she clearly deserved the title of King.

She really was the strongest Servant of the Saber class.

"You're using those blades again," she pointed out, momentarily stopping her assault to take a few steps back from him as she readied her stance again. "Not your projections. Why?"

The red-haired Ruler steeled himself, raising Kanshou and Bakuya into a combat stance. "I doubt I could keep you at range with a longsword," he admitted, shrugging a bit. "And I would not insult such a powerful King by giving you less than my all."

That was true, even if not entirely. Both Shirou and Artoria were restraining their strength right now, holding themselves back in order not to wreak havoc and cause damage to the city. This was not a battle, after all, but a simple sparring session. Just as Ruler wouldn't unleash his true might against her, Saber would not unleash her full strength either. They were not seeking the death of an ally. Training always required a measure of restraint, no matter how most Heroic Spirits liked to banter, especially Mordred and Iskandar.

But that didn't mean they would not give their all for this duel.

"Thank you, Ruler― no, Shirou," she said, offering him a small smile. The tiny glimmer of emotion flashing inside her eyes almost made him pause for some reason.

Shirou dismissed his thoughts, ignoring the weird feeling inside his chest. Next thing he knew, Artoria was charging at him again, faster than the wind and elegant like the moon shining on the above. The projected longsword and the twin blades clashed yet again, and the two opponents began to push into a struggle of strength, trying to pressure each other with their arms and weapons. Unbeknownst to them, they kept staring into each other's eyes during the entire struggle, smiling and grinning all the while.

With a flick of her wrist, then, Artoria disarmed Shirou all of sudden, flinging Bakuya away with a skillful movement. The God let the sword disappear and lunged with Kanshou at her right shoulder, left momentarily exposed due to the movement… however, seeing her muscles twitch and knowing that danger was coming, he was able to redirect his strike into a parry at the last second while Artoria swept her sword back at him. He barely had time to recollect himself, however. In fact, when she deftly spun the sweep into a double overhead slash, Shirou widened his eyes, and instantly leaped away with a speed that no living being should be able to possess. He disappeared in a second, only to reappear a few meters away from the opponent.

Artoria did not pursue him. Instead she relaxed her stance, her silver armor clinking slightly as she straightened. "Your skill and tact in melee are impressive, Shirou," she praised him, her emerald eyes fixing him intently. "Your style is unrefined, but I can feel your power and resolve with each strike. I've never faced a warrior like you."

He smiled a little in spite of himself. Even he could take a compliment, sometimes. "And as expected of the King of Knights, you're extremely powerful as well. Your strength and swordsmanship have no rival. If it weren't my experience, I wouldn't be able to match you."

In a way, he wasn't lying with that statement. Shirou was indeed powerful – extremely so, since he was an immortal God who had lived for thousands of years – but in terms of skills alone, Artoria was far superior to him. Her ability with the sword was greater than his, since she had been trained to wield and fight with a blade ever since she was a child. Shirou had fought and killed countless enemies during his accursed existence, Deities and warriors alike, but his fighting style and abilities had not been formed from training, but from experience and battles instead. He was strong thanks to his experience, in other words, while Artoria was a trained and refined swordswoman who had been raised for combat since young age. There was no shame in admitting his inferiority in skills when faced with such an opponent.

Besides, Shirou was considerably weaker now compared to his past, since he no longer had any Divine power and abilities. His Divinity was almost entirely gone, and with that the majority of his powers as well. As a God of War, he was far stronger than the average Servants in terms of power and experience… but in terms of skills? That was another story entirely. He could match and overpower Artoria thanks to his power and cunning, but he would never be able to best her in a true duel of skills. That much was undisputable.

Therefore, he was being honest. In terms of skills and abilities, this woman was far stronger than him. He could admit that much without shame.

She took the compliment as well, but her smile disappeared almost immediately. "Let's see about that," she challenged him, steeling her expression with a resolute frown.

Once more, the duel began without a warning. This time, Shirou was the one who dashed forward with inhuman speed, calling back Kanshou and Bakuya in his hands again. Artoria did not disappoint, however, dropping back into a perfect stance well before he reached her. She readied herself to redirect his strikes and counterattack, but Shirou never launched them. Instead, he utilized a technique he hadn't used in quite a long while: tossing his blades like boomerangs and aiming at the female King's legs while he kept his distance from the target.

Artoria widened her eyes, but she did not falter one bit. With elegance and grace, she used her borrowed sword to deflect the black one of the married blades with ease, her legs dancing on the ground with elegant steps as she ducked and avoided the white one at the same time. Next thing she knew, the shortswords had already returned into the Ruler's hand – just like boomerangs would – and the woman remained inwardly fascinated by that unusual attack. She had never witnessed such a peculiar and unorthodox combat style, after all. This was a first for her, in the literal sense of the term.

However, if he wanted to best her, Ruler had to do more than that. The King of Knights dashed at him a second time, and they met again in a flurry. Sparks flew and steel clashed at superhuman speed until Artoria disarmed Shirou again, bashing both weapons away and spinning her sword back into a new strike… that never managed to land on the target, much to her irritation. In an instant, in fact, the blades were back in his hands again, parrying and deflecting her attacks with ease while Shirou kept staring at her with an unreadable expression.

The woman scoffed in annoyance, but never slowed her assault. She knew that those blades were more than they appeared if Ruler was favoring them so much for this duel, but she still couldn't understand that their true power lay in their simplicity and form. All she was seeing was a pair of master-crafted blades with unknown powers, layered in wards and promising mystery and danger… and Shirou knew that as well. That was why he had chosen to use them for this duel, since he knew that he could not best the King of Knights with a longsword due to her superior skills. If he wanted to fight her directly without using his full strength, the best option he had was to keep her wary of him. It never hurt to mislead an opponent in battle, after all.

With a sudden jerk-like movement, Shirou parried a slash to the neck, slamming his twin blades against Artoria's borrowed weapon. He released mana into his arms, struggling against the woman's defense with a grunt of effort.

Surprisingly, it worked. The female King widened her eyes when Shirou's black sword, Kanshou, unexpectedly managed to pass her guard; nearly managing to slash her breastplate in the process. At the same time, Bakuya kept slamming itself against her defense repeatedly, hammering against her longsword and forcing her to disengage. Not even a moment later, however, Artoria had already recovered, and she dashed against Shirou with a powerful leap followed by an explosion of wind and prana. The red-haired Ruler took a sharp breath of effort as he managed to block the assault with his inhuman reflexes, inwardly cursing a bit when he was forced to block a punch aimed at his ribs with his forearm, surprised by the sudden counterattack. It seemed that the King of Knights was even more adaptive than he'd previously thought.

The two opponents leaped away from each other after the exchange, pointing their weapons forward with narrowed eyes as they both stepped back. Shirou was smiling in amusement, his mind focused despite his previous concern and weary state, and Artoria looked as stoic and calm as ever, keeping her arms raised into a familiar stance. Sheer silence echoed in the clearing, broken only by the sound of the wind that kept howling in the night sky. The temperature was cold and freezing, but neither of them seemed to care right now. A Servant like Artoria could fight and resist in every environment, and Shirou was no mere human either. The cold barely had any effect on his body thanks to his peculiar nature and condition.

For a few moments, they just stared at each other. A pair of golden-brown eyes made of steel and will, against a pair of emerald eyes made of cold, emotionless resolve.

Until, fast as the wind and silent as death itself, they charged again. The God of War and the King of Knights met again in combat with a clash of steel and wind, and the air moaned and howled as their blades slammed against each other with a thundering hiss, breaking the silence enveloping the desert night for a second that lasted an eternity. However – much to their surprise – before either of them could counterattack or realize it fully, something unexpected happened, catching both the female King and the unknown God by surprise.

Artoria's longsword shattered, while Kanshou and Bakuya were batted away, leaving both the opponents weaponless and frozen in front of each other, standing a few inches apart.

Shirou widened his eyes. Artoria took sharp breath. They stared into each other's eyes, their faces morphed into a stunned, dumbfounded expression due to the unexpected twist of events.

Silence fell amid the clearing in the flying city. Seconds passed, devoid of sounds and words.

All the while, they kept staring at each other, unable to tear their gazes away.

Until, after a log while of awkward silence, they both shared the exact, same reaction.

They laughed.

"Ok, I did not see that coming," Shirou admitted with a chuckle, taking a few steps back with his arms raised in a surrendering gesture. "I guess this is it, huh?"

A few inches away from him, Artoria did the same, staring at the hilt of the broken longsword in her hands as she laughed as well. "Indeed," she agreed with a giggle, smiling at him in amusement. "This is a draw, then."

"I'm fine with that. We were both holding back, after all," Shirou conceded, still unable to wipe away the smile from his lips.

The impasse brought another fit of giggles to the Ruler and the Saber. They both laughed again with mirth.

Until, when silence finally descended upon them again, Shirou rubbed the back of his neck and lowered his gaze. "I… thank you, Artoria. For sparring with me," he said with a low, embarrassed tone of voice. For some reason he couldn't quite fathom, he could definitely feel the heat rising in his cheeks, but he didn't let it show on his expression. Good grief, how childish of him. He really was slipping, wasn't he? "It was… fun. Especially the last part."

Artoria smiled as well, but her eyes dipped downward once before pointedly directing themselves elsewhere. No matter how many times he saw it, Shirou would never become accustomed to the sight the King of Knights blushing. "…did I manage to distract you a bit?" she asked, glancing at him shyly.

He nodded. "Yeah. I guess… I really needed that," he admitted. For once, his answer was completely true. "Thank you."

Those words came tumbling out of his mouth without thought behind them, and the Ruler immediately regretted his foolishness. What the hell was he doing right now?

"To you as well," Artoria echoed, and Shirou's regrets vanished just for an instant. "It was… fun, for me too."

Good grief. This woman was really bad for his health. Shirou had to fight hard to quell the growing warmth on his cheeks.

"We should do it again, sometimes," she continued, smiling in his direction again. "Training, I mean. I feel like it was a useful experience."

The God of War parted his lips into a smirk. He could not fully contain a sarcastic remark after hearing her suggestion. "Training with King Arthur himself? It would be an honor," he said, trying to hide the embarrassment he was feeling inside behind his usual sarcasm.

Still, perhaps the King of Knights' instincts extended beyond what he had expected. Her blush disappeared, but the smile on her lips was soft and beautiful like the moon. "Please, do not refer to me as such. I'm no longer King Arthur," she said, trying to break his stubborn attempt to remain formal with her.

He raised a brow at her answer. "Why not?" he asked, slowly. "You are the King of Knights."

She shook her head. "I am no King in this time. Camelot is gone, and that title means nothing anymore. And with Avalon no longer in my possession, even my guise as "Arthur" was... short-lived."

Ah, yes… the Scabbard. The accursed, dangerous Scabbard of his which had been granted to Artoria despite Shirou's wishes. The very same Scabbard that contained the second half of Shirou's soul and power, and that consequently had influenced Artoria in her lifetime without her knowing, rendering her something new. Something different. Something that could no longer be considered "human", due to the fact that the Scabbard contained most of Tyr's divine powers and abilities. His immortality, his divinity, his utopia… all of that was contained inside the Scabbard; inside the Divine Construct known as Avalon.

The very same Scabbard that had influenced Artoria during her life, and that – coupled with Excalibur as well – had allowed the King of Knights to become something else during her life. Something different. Something that could no longer be considered -human- for their influence combined had made Artoria closer to the concept of -Gods- instead.

Shirou inwardly cursed himself.

However, despite his shame and regret, he couldn't stop himself from voicing a certain question.

"What happened to it?" he asked to her, looking at Artoria with a neutral face. "To your Scabbard, I mean?"

The female king blinked, caught by surprise by the question, but she pondered her answer for a moment or two. "I don't know," she admitted, tearing her eyes away from Shirou and staring at the starry sky with an unreadable face. "Avalon was lost shortly before the Battle of Camlann. It simply disappeared one day, without a trace. Back then, I suspected that someone might have stolen it, but I had no evidence to prove my suspicion. No one among my court knew how or when it disappeared, so there was nothing I could do. Even to this day I still don't know what happened to it."

A horrible realization began to creep inside the Ruler's mind after hearing her words. Shirou nearly tensed as a suspicion suddenly started to form itself inside his head.

Avalon disappeared during Artoria's life. It suddenly vanished without a trace.

And after the King's death, the same thing happened with Rhongomyniad as well.

He narrowed his eyes. 'This cannot be a coincidence,' he mused.

But Artoria wasn't finished yet. "However… just as I did back then, I think I know who might be responsible for its disappearance," she stated, keeping her gaze glued to the sky with an unreadable face. Slowly but surely, a scowl began to from on her face, making Shirou frown as he began to connect the dots just like her. "I have no evidence of this… but I'm certain that Avalon's disappearance was not a coincidence. And there was only one person who could have openly attempted to steal something from me without being discovered."

Yep, this was no coincidence. Everything made sense now.

All the pieces of the puzzle were finally starting to reveal the whole picture.

Avalon. Rhongomyniad. Both of them had been stolen. Both of them were connected to the God of War, Tyr.

But it wasn't over. Avalon was still gone even to this day. And now, during the Holy Grail War, Tyr's remaining records had been stolen as well, along with the Stone.

And roughly at the same time, someone had attempted to steal Rhongomyniad too.

And as much as Shirou hated to admit it, there was only one person who had been aware of those items and who could have tried to gather them due to their connection with Tyr.

That being

"Morgan," Artoria finished for him, turning to Shirou with a face without emotion. "Avalon's disappearance must be the result of Morgan's machinations."

King Arthur's sister, and Mordred's very own mother.

Shirou inwardly cursed his existence.

There was no doubt about it. It was simply too logical to be wrong. Morgan le Fay was – apparently – the one who'd stolen the Stone and the records from the Vatican Archives. She was the one who'd created Add and allowed Rhongomyniad to remain into the world after Artoria's death. And she was also the one who'd stolen Avalon shortly before the Battle of Camlann. Therefore, following that logic, she had to be the one responsible for all this mess. It just had to be this way. There was no way that so-called witch couldn't be aware of all those items' connection with Tyr. It was just too suspicious to be a coincidence. All those events had to be connected to each other.

The records. The Stone. Avalon. Rhongomyniad. All of them were connected to Shirou's past. To his previous life. To his previous identity.

And in light of the recent events, there could only be one explanation to their sudden disappearance.

That being: Morgan le Fay was trying to gather all the items related to Tyr. She was trying to collect all the pieces tied to Shirou's past. She was trying to retrieve all the fragments of Tyr's legend.

There was no doubt about it.

Artoria's sister was trying to collect all the scattered fragments of the God of War's legend… and the very same God in question could not fathom why.

Shirou donned a hand over his face, massaging his aching temples. "We'll find her," he said, more to himself than Artoria. "We'll find that witch and get all the answers we seek. I promise."

The King of Knights nodded her head, her face and eyes gleaming with resolve. "I know," she agreed, clenching a fist in frustration. "And when we do, I'm going to make sure that witch will pay for all she's done. Both I and Mordred have a score to settle with her. She won't be able to escape from my wrath this time."

Both of them nodded, sharing a resolute gaze.

Until, Shirou's lips parted into a smirk. "Speaking of Mordred… I was surprised by your previous actions," he said, grabbing her attention once again. The red-haired Ruler openly tried to change the subject in order to avoid yet another migraine. "I wasn't expecting you to defend her so openly. Right in front of the Sun King, no less. I must admit that I was surprised," he spoke, his voice filled with amusement and pride mixed together.

Because that had been a surprise, indeed. For everyone.

Artoria smiled, her expression softening a bit at that reminder. "I know I am a King no longer… but what kind of leader would I be if I can't even defend my Knights?" she said, lowering her eyes to the ground. "I can't let every King who stands in our path to have their way with me, and with them. That includes Mordred as well."

Shirou nodded with a knowing expression.

"Besides, she was right for once," the female King continued, shrugging a little in attempt to hide her uneasiness about this matter. "Ozymandias is powerful, but the way he chose to act was foolish and cowardly. Mordred was right to berate him for his mistakes," she stated with conviction, completely serious about what she was saying.

The red-head smiled. "I'm glad you think so. I didn't have time to ask her, but I'm sure she was happy when you went to her defense," he admitted, thinking back to the gigantic blush Mordred has displayed on her face during that moment. He almost snorted in amusement at the memory, but instead opted to turn towards Artoria with a blank stare as another previous discussion with Mordred came to his mind. "Which reminds me… the two of you should really stop avoiding each other. Seeing you two being so awkward all the time is starting to become quite bothersome, you know."

Artoria made a face of indignant embarrassment, her nostrils flaring as her face became a deep crimson. Shirou observed her reaction with an amused stare. Right now, the expression on her face was the exact same one that Mordred used to make when she was embarrassed as well. Good lord. No matter what they would say, those two really were Father and Son.

"I-I know that," the King of Knights admitted, lowering her face in shame as she tried to recollect herself. "It's just… I don't know what to do. I don't know how to act around her."

"That much I understood," Shirou said. After all, he knew extremely well that both Mordred and Artoria weren't exactly good at being honest with themselves, and with each other. It was no wonder that they didn't know how to behave when they were together, since they had never experienced this kind of situation before. Mordred was still a kid, so he had expected her to react this way, but Artoria had no idea of what to do to connect with her either. Making peace with each other had been a good start, but it couldn't just end there. Relationships didn't work that way. "I know you seem more mature and well-adjusted than her, but if you're anything like that kid… I won't let the two of you ignore each other just because you don't know how to interact. You have to at least try, Artoria."

Her head lowered further. "…what if she won't accept it?" she asked, her voice quiet and hesitant.

He snorted. "As if. Mordred doesn't hold any ill will against you. Just like you."

The woman nodded in silent acknowledgment. That much was true. Artoria held no ill will against her rebel son. Despite everything that had happened between them, she had forgiven her for everything, just like her son had never really hated her either. But that didn't mean that their past didn't hurt, perhaps even now.

Shirou smiled again, not quite as broadly. "Just… make an attempt when you feel you're ready, alright?" he suggested, placing a hand over her shoulder in support. He knew he could not force them to act on this. This matter was extremely delicate, and it required a lot of time to heal a bond that was broken. Especially when said bond had never really existed in the first place. "Everything will be fine. Trust me."

Once again, the woman with golden hair hesitated. However, after a few seconds, she nodded a few times in order to steel herself.

"Alright," she decided, taking a deep breath to quell her growing concern. "I… I will try."

Shirou grinned, wide and proud. "Good. That's all I can ask," he nodded in approval.

Much to his surprise, however, the King of Knights raised her head after his words and stared at him with a pout. A pout. The Ruler blinked in complete confusion under the woman's unimpressed stare.

She sighed at his lost gaze. "You are really frustrating, Shirou," she muttered with a shake of the head. "Here you are, offering me advice, while you still refuse to let me help you." Her emerald eyes fixed him with a stern gaze while the man flinched in shame, unable to retort to her words. "It's unfair, don't you think?"

The ancient God laughed nervously. She got him there. She got him good. "I'm sorry," was all he could say.

Artoria shook her head again. She took her decision after a deep breath. "If I'll try to talk to Mordred in the future… will you promise me to make an attempt as well?" she asked him, staring straight into his golden-brown orbs. "Will you try to rely on me, and allow me to help you with your problems?"

Despite his better judgment, Shirou seriously considered her offer for a few moments.

In the end, he took his decision.

"Alright," he conceded, mixing a bit of truth and lies with a resigned expression. "We have a deal."

Artoria smiled, satisfied with his answer. "Good. It's a promise, then."

The King of Knights and the First Hero of Humanity shared a nod and a smile, their fragile and hesitant promise witnessed by the stars and the moon shining on the above.

They fell into a comfortable silence, averting their eyes all of sudden and looking in every direction except each other.

"We should go now," Artoria suggested with a forced cough. "Dawn will rise in a few hours. We should head back before the others wake up."

Shirou agreed, and parted ways with her in a comfortable silence. And when he finally reached the guest room the Sun King had assigned to him, despite the constant feeling of shame haunting his heart, the God of War slept comfortably for a few hours; perhaps more soundly than he had in a long time.


.

/+/+/+/+/+/+/

.

I smile at Astraea's question. My face is filled with regret.

"…yeah," I answer.

The smile does not reach my eyes.

"I think we could have been friends."

.

/+/+/+/+/+/+/

.


Planet: Earth
Date: June 13 2020
Location:
Luxor Temple – East bank of the Nile River (Luxor - Egypt)

(======)

The silent and cold night of the desert engulfed everything as far as the eye could see, enveloping the ancient Egyptian ruins completely and generating a sight that was both suggestive and impossible to describe.

Said ruins consisted of a large Egyptian temple complex located on the East bank of the Nile River, in the city today known as Luxor – also known as Thebes in ancient times – that was constructed approximately around 1400 BCE. In the Egyptian language, the temple was known as "Ipet Resyt" which meant "the southern sanctuary". However, unlike the majority of temples in this Country, Luxor Temple was not dedicated to a cult God or a deified version of the Pharaohs. Instead, it was dedicated to the rejuvenation of Kingship; and thanks to that peculiar reason, a lot of people believed that it might have been the place where many of the Pharaohs of Egypt had been crowned in reality… or conceptually, as in the case of Alexander the Great, who claimed he was crowned at Luxor in life but had never really traveled south of Memphis.

It was an ancient place, devoid of life and yet at the same time filled with wonder and mysteries. It possessed statues, obelisks, and several sanctuaries shaped differently from each other. But now, even though the temple was supposed to be empty due to the chaos spreading through the entirety of Egypt, there was a voice that could be heard echoing amid the ruins of the ancient complex. A voice that came directly from inside the main temple, resounding with a soft and yet cold tone throughout the abandoned ruins.

A voice that was reciting a poem. A poem that was a few centuries old, and that went like this:

The stars are very beautiful above the castle walls,
They shine with equal splendor still above far humbler halls.
I watch them from my window, but their bright entrancing glow
Reminds me of the freedom I gave up so long ago.

Inside the tallest temple, deep beyond the main entrance of the first pylon, a woman with long, white hair was reading a book with utmost focus; standing in the middle of the abandoned site as she kept reading out loud the words of the old poem, her soft voice echoing amid the temple with a cold, enchanting tone.

The royal circlet of bright gold rests lightly on my brow,
I once thought only of the rights this circlet would endow.
But once I took the crown to which I had been schooled and bred,
I found it heavy on the heart, though light upon the head.

As the woman continued to read with her voice echoing amid the empty temple, suddenly and without a warning, a dark and imperceptible shadow suddenly emerged from a corner of the temple, while a figure silently stepped out of it without making a single sound.

Although I am the head of state, in truth I am the least,
The true King knows his people fed, before he sits to feast.
The good King knows his people safe, before he takes his rest,
Thinks twice and thrice and yet again, before he makes request.

The shadow took a step forward, placing itself under the subdued light coming from the broken rooftop of the temple and revealing its true, peculiar appearance: a tall and slender man dressed in dark armor with a red hood covering his head and his arms and legs covered in bandages.

For they are all my children, all that I swore to defend,
It is my duty to become both King and trusted friend.
And of my children high and low, from beggar to above,
The dearest are my Knights, who return my care with love.

Still, the woman paid no mind to the man as he moved closer to her position, her eyes and gaze completely focused on the book held in her hands while she kept reading the poem with her soft, emotionless tone; undaunted. The hooded figure stepped forward once again, making noise with each of his steps, and yet the woman continued to read without sparing him a single glance.

The dearest are my Knights, swift to spring to my command.
Who give me aid and fellowship, who always understand
That land and people first have needs that I may not deny,
So I must send my dearest friends to danger… and to die.

He stopped a few meters behind the woman, observing and listening without uttering a word. From the darkness of his red hood, a face covered with bandages stared at the woman with dark, emotionless eyes; crossing his arms in a solemn movement as the moon kept shining above the temple, enveloping the room into a soft glow.

A friend, a love, a child – it matters not, I know indeed,
That I must sacrifice them all if there should be the need.
They know and they forgive me, doing more than I require,
With willing minds and loving hearts they go straight to grasp the fire.

His eyes wandered to the ground. Three objects were placed in front of the woman's kneeled frame: a pile of folded documents, a golden scabbard of elegant appearance, and weird-looking stone with a smooth and polished surface that vaguely resembled a rectangular shape. The man's eyes narrowed behind the hood as the woman rose to her feet, her back still facing him as if she was completely ignoring him.

These tears that burn my eyes are all the tears the King can't shed,
The tears I weep in silence as I mourn my Knights dead.
Oh gods that dwell beyond the stars, if you can hear my cry,
And if you have compassion… let me send no more to die.

She closed the book abruptly, and halted her reading all of a sudden. Silence fell amid the ruins once more, and the man remained still and unmoving as he stared at the woman standing under the moonlight, unwilling to be the one who had to break the silence. Instead, he merely opted to tilt his head and wait, while the woman suddenly burst into a fit of chuckles out of nowhere, her shoulders trembling a little as she laughed with her soft, elegant voice that had spoken of royalty and sacrifice until a few second ago. The sound of her subdued giggles echoed in the temple for at least an entire minute.

Until, after an indefinite amount of time, the woman finally broke the silence, addressing the man standing behind her with a stern tone. "You took your time, Assassin," she said, without even turning towards him.

Slender shoulders rose as the hooded Servant shrugged. His arms remained crossed, as if he did not care about her annoyance at all. "There were some complications," was all he said, his voice devoid of feels. He inclined his head a little, though, fixing her with an invisible stare. "I didn't know you were one for poetry."

The woman snorted at his words, and then slowly turned to glance at him. As she did so, she finally revealed her appearance, her face and features illuminated by the moonlight. The Assassin remained unimpressed as his eyes saw a face with beautiful features, highlighted by elegant lashes; soft, lunar skin and a pair of electric blue eyes. The woman had shock-white hair that reminded the man of his own, and she was wearing a strange blue, white and black dress that revealed a lot of her body along with long, black heeled boots that covered her legs entirely. She also wore a black crown on her head, and her hair were tied into a long ponytail with a ribbon of the same color.

The man stared with a gaze devoid of emotions as the Servant in front of him fixed him with a flat stare. "I was intrigued by this book during my journey here, and I decided to take it," she said, raising the small book in her hand and gazing upon its cover. "'Arthurian Poems: a collection of the best Arthurian poetry'," she read out loud, her voice gaining a small edge as she spoke, almost as if she felt amused for some reason. "The piece I was reading earlier is entitled 'Cost of the Crown', a piece of poetry from the 9th century who is said to have derived from a song written by Sir Tristan of the Round Table himself, who wrote it because he couldn't help but feel bad due to his King's endless sacrifice."

Assassin said nothing, did nothing; his gaze and eyes emotionless under the hood.

The woman scoffed out loud, tossing the book away with a disgusted movement. "Which, of course, is nothing but a lie," she spat. "A falsity. An abhorrent and distasteful hoax," she hissed all of a sudden, her voice gaining a sickened tone. The woman took a few steps forward, glaring at the world with an enraged scowl. "Love? Sacrifice? Friends? Preposterous. The King of Knights was nothing but a monster. A naive girl-king who foolishly believed she could become a beacon of hope like a clear sky reflected off the surface of a lake… and who crumbled on herself in the end, becoming just as ephemeral as her dream. That is what my dearest sister was like," she stated, her voice assuming a sarcastic and mocking tone as she thought about her 'dearest sister'.

The book fell on the ground. The woman stomped on it, and then set it on fire with a snap of her fingers. "This is completely inaccurate," she stated, looking and sounding completely unimpressed.

"I think that Caster has been a bad influence for you," was the Assassin's flat reply.

A small twitch of her upper eyelids and the corner of her mouth was the only reply he received. The woman with shock-white hair shrugged. "Unlike the mad Servant you picked up in France, Shakespeare has been a useful tool to me… but he's way past fulfilled his purpose," she dismissed him, uncaring. "But I did feel intrigued by this piece of poetry. It is amusing to see how the world can twist and alter reality as it sees fit. History has always been written by the victors… so why am I the only one who's remembered as the evil queen even though I'm the one who succeeded in the end?"

Her question was filled with anger, and spite, and envy; and so many things together that the Assassin failed to grasp her conflicted emotions completely. Not that he cared, though.

"Why am I seen as a spiteful, evil witch consumed by jealousy and vengeance… when I'm the one who was deprived of everything?" she mused with an empty voice, her gaze emotionless and distant as she pondered that question out loud.

The man just stared in silence. 'Maybe because you're ruthless, twisted and deprived; not to mention driven by jealousy and revenge,' he thought to himself. He did not waste his breath to say the obvious, though. He didn't care one single bit about this woman's conflicted past, after all.

"Enough distractions, Berserker," he declared with an empty voice. The woman's blue eyes narrowed when the man removed his hood, revealing a face with tanned skin and white hair similar to her own. "Do you have everything?"

The woman – Berserker – did not answer with words. Instead, all she offered was the long-withered bones of a smile; cold, bare ivory beneath empty eyes. "See it for yourself," she retorted, tilting her head towards the objects placed at her feet.

Assassin did so as she stepped closer, even though he already knew the answer to his question. "The records, the Scabbard, the Stone," he checked, gazing upon each and every one of the items placed on the ruined floor of the temple. His face and voice did not change one bit as he nodded in satisfaction. "Good. You have fulfilled your obligations."

"As it was due," the Berserker scoffed, banishing the traces of irritation from her face. "You're awfully dispassionate despite witnessing to our success. As expected from a Counter Guardian, I suppose."

The man eyed her with a gaze devoid of feels. "I care not about your opinion, and I don't want to hear it. I will simply fulfill my obligations, for that is my mission," he answered, looking and sounding completely apathetic with his statement. "The Age of Nature will begin soon, for that is the Will of Humanity."

Berserker hummed – purred may have been a much fitting word – as she eyed him sideways. "Lovely. I'm fine with working with those who don't complain about their job. As expected from Alaya's dogs."

He ignored her sarcasm completely. "However, our task is not finished yet," the Counter Guardian replied, making the woman pause for a moment. He stared with an emotionless face under her raised eyebrow. "We're still one piece short. The retrieval of the Spear has failed. The item has fallen into the enemy's hands."

An answer Berserker expected, but still didn't like. Her royal brows almost furrowed into a scowl. "Ah yes… I've heard about your failure," she mused with a cool tone, studying her nails in what appeared to be a rather convincing show of apathy. "Not only you've failed to retrieve Rhongomyniad during your mission, but you were also dangerously wounded and forced to retreat. Is that accurate?"

The man grunted almost imperceptibly. If he felt ashamed of his failure – or even if he felt anything at all – he did not show it with his body. "It was a miscalculated situation. An unexpected mistake brought forth by the mad Caster's demise," he explained, emotionless. His face and gaze betrayed nothing as Berserker glowered at him in haughty disdain, completely unfazed by her glare. "Besides, I hadn't expected the enemy to have come in possession of the Spear. His final attack almost cost me my left arm."

She raised a brow. "Your arm seems completely fine to me," she pointed out, amused.

The man remained as cold and impassive as ever, clenching his left hand imperceptibly. "Altering time can be extremely useful," was his empty, cryptic reply.

The woman read between the lines. She hummed with an unimpressed frown. "So that's why it took you so long to come here," she summarized, taking a few steps to the right as she turned away from him to stare at the moon that could be glimpsed from the ruined roof of the temple. "I've been waiting for weeks… I was almost tempted to discard the plan and start taking action on my own."

"Don't get ahead of yourself. We must proceed with caution," he warned her, deadly serious.

"You don't need to tell me that," she brushed him off, unfazed. Her cold, empty eyes glanced at him with their blue orbs. "So, how was it? Meeting your last remaining relative?"

The Counter Guardian remained into a stoic, emotionless silence. He offered no answer to her sarcastic question.

Still, Berserker's lips parted into a smirk all the same. "I see… how amusing," she mocked him, as if she had been reading his mind like an open book.

"Have you erected the Bounded Field?" he asked her instead, ignoring her knowing, mocking gaze.

"Do you not feel it in the air?" she asked back at him, sarcastic. She knew he was already aware of the answer to that question.

His dark eyes narrowed in a dissatisfied way. "And was it really necessary to cover the entire Country with it?" he pressed, his tone gaining a dangerous edge.

"Of course," was her swift, immediate reply. The woman openly shrugged, the smile on her lips as cold as the sharpest of metal. Her blue eyes even gleamed in twisted pleasure at the thought of what the future was about to unfold. "It was a necessary move if we wanted to lure our target here. Enclosing this Country inside my Bounded Field was simply the most optimal option. Besides, no one is going to discover us. With its wide and empty deserts devoid of life and witnesses, Egypt is the perfect place to unleash the monster against our target. He will never find us here."

Despite his narrowed gaze, the Counter Guardian nodded in acknowledgment. He knew she was right about that.

"What about the Avenger?"

Berserker scoffed, a glimmer of disgust flickering on her face at his question. "He's already here, waiting to be released," she reported, ignoring the Assassin's gaze with a dismissive wave of her hand. The woman took a few steps back, kneeling on the ground as she gently moved a hand above the golden scabbard placed on the floor. "The summoning was successful. From what I've heard, he's been really excited ever since I've brought him here. He can't wait to spur into action."

The tanned Assassin eyed her warily. "You seem rather excited as well," he noted, impassive.

The woman smiled a twisted smile, batting her eyelashes with a playful movement. If it weren't for her twisted and spiteful behavior, she would have looked extremely charming. "Oh my, can you really blame me?" she said, inclining her head with a sarcastic smile. "I've been looking forward to this too, you know. I've long since waited for this moment… to see that foolish sister of mine crumble and suffer. I cannot wait to crush her underfoot."

"And what about Mordred?" the other pressed, unexpressive.

Berserker remained silent. Her empty eyes grew distant – more distant than ever – as a scowl ruined her beautiful features. Her mouth openly twitched in what appeared to be a displeased sneer. "The brat? She's inconsequential," she spat, dismissing that question as if the thought of a certain golden-haired child meant nothing to her. "She was nothing but a tool to me. She certainly has fire in her, but it is brash and unrefined, unable to be tempered. It's no wonder our target has grown fond of her. Just like him, she's nothing but animal, unable to do anything but rage and destroy."

A cold, mocking chuckle escaped her lips. "My, my, those children of ours… they're just too hopeless. Don't you agree?"

A flat, narrowed stare was all she received from the man.

His dark armor clinked as he turned away. "I've heard enough. Let us begin," he declared, moving towards the shadows with a silent step.

Berserker eyed him sideways. A sick, twisted smile of pleasure curved her pale lips. "So cold. You should really learn to enjoy yourself… EMIYA," she mocked him, pronouncing that name with an ironic emphasis.

Counter Guardian EMIYA put the hood back on his head, fixing the world with an emotionless glare.

"This is no time to be slacking. Let's go."


CODEX PLANETAE

[COUNTER FORCE] Database

Taken from the notes of Alaya

Subject: Tyr [-Shirou Emiya-], #1 among the Ancestral Heroes

Alias: God of War, Humanity's Liberator, Grand Hero, God-Slayer, First Hero of Humanity

Description:

I feel like a clarification needs to be made. Although the being called Angra Mainyu is known by the Gods and the inhabitants of the Other Side of the World as the "Avenger" or the "Second Hero of Humanity", rather than a true Hero or a warrior, he can be considered as an Anti-Hero instead. He's more like a walking curse than a living being, the embodiment of All the Evils of the World enclosed within a human body. However, despite possessing a physical body in theory, Angra Mainyu does not have a "true" appearance of his own, because ever since he died and his original body disappeared, he became nothingness itself.

According to the footage collected by the [COUNTER FORCE], in fact, in his current state he possesses no personality and no appearance; at least not one of his own. And as it was stated by [ERROR] in his report [ERROR – DATA CORRUPTED], it is only by possessing others as his shell that Avenger is able to acquire a real appearance and personality. Instead, as he begins to return to his original state of nothingness, he will inevitably lose his physical features and look like a shadow. However, even in spite of that, he still manages to vaguely resemble Shirou in appearance when he is not possessing a host, perhaps due to the correlation between the two. Just like I've explained earlier, in fact, the actions of the God of War Tyr were the main cause which eventually led to the birth of the Avenger; and the Avenger is the direct consequence of the evolution brought by the God of War Tyr on the human race.

Yet, perhaps thanks to his peculiar and twisted existence, he can be technically considered a Hero. He IS the second Hero born after Shirou, after all. It is for this very same reason that his name and existence are recorder inside the Throne, despite my distaste for such a thing. Consequently, Angra Mainyu can be summoned as a Heroic Spirit, for he himself is a Hero born into existence according to people's wishes. Other Heroic Spirits are recognized as true Heroes thanks to their legends and their own deeds, but Avenger represents the belief that "Heroes" are lies and fabrications. And by doing so, the enshrinement of humanity's selfish desires has turned the embodiment of All the World's Evil into a Heroic Spirit, creating a direct connection between the First Hero Tyr and the Second Hero Angra Mainyu. That is my belief, at least. It is precisely for this reason alone that I'm writing all of this inside these notes that are meant to narrate and gather data about Shirou.

Of course, this is nothing but a speculation on my part. I have no evidence that can prove a direct correlation between him and Angra Mainyu. But unfortunately, the data I've gathered thanks to the [COUNTER FORCE] led me to reach this conclusion, and I just can't shake off this feeling from my mind no matter how hard I try. I truly do hope to be mistaken about this, however.

But, alas, I've rarely been wrong in the entirety of my existence.


IMPORTANT NOTES

The duel between Shirou and Artoria is inspired by another short fic. Said story is called "Archer Day (Just Another Monday)" written by SnarkySharke on AO3. You can give credit to him for that scene. Also, just like I did after the duel between Mordred and Artoria, I really suggest you check his story on AO3 if you're interested. They're amazing.

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Now, onto some other stuff: this chapter is basically the calm before the storm. The next one is going to be… hectic, to say the least.

Also, a few clarifications about the events that have unfolded here:

1) – First, I promise you: this is the LAST TIME Shirou will refuse Artoria's help. During the course of the story so far, he has always been wary of her attempts to grow closer to him, and refused to be open with her because of his mission and self-loathing. This will NOT happen again. I know it's been kind of a routine between the two of them so far, but it won't last any longer. Why? We'll see it in the next chapter.

2) - I won't deny it. Ozymandias is basically a wild, stubborn brat who will always refuse to play along unless he gets what he wants. If there's something he really wants, he can be even more stubborn than Iskandar and Gilgamesh combined, and that much is canon according to the Wiki (although he would never act as cruelly as a certain Goldie would. Unless Moses is involved *cough, cough*). Luckily for him, however, both here and in life he's always been surrounded by people who forced him to face reality in spite of his whims, so it was just a matter of time before he would finally come to his senses.

3) - Yes, there's a connection between Counter Guardian EMIYA (Assassin) and Shirou. A very deep one, to be honest. The fact that the two of them share the same surname is not a coincidence. How is it possible? We'll discover it in the future. And no: Shirou is not aware of this connection, nor of Assassin's identity.

4) - As you've seen, we've finally seen a direct mention about Avalon in this chapter. King Arthur's Scabbard is going to be EXTREMELY IMPORTANT in this story, and its role is deeply related to the connection between Shirou and Artoria. I've already hinted about this in the past, several times and in a lot of chapters. However, I must warn you about one thing: in this fic, the Scabbard's powers and effects are going to be similar to the canon works, but also a bit different in some way. It has already been hinted in the story a little bit, but everything will be explained in due time.

5) - Some people have been expressing doubts about Shirou's age and the timeline of this story, and they've asked me for clarifications in a few DMs. So, since I've never really explained it directly, I'll try to make it clear here for anyone who might be interested. This info is not really relevant to the plot, so it's fine if you won't pay too much attention to it, but I'll explain it below just because I like to be accurate.

As it has been stated ever since the prologue, Tyr/Shirou was born approximatively 5 millennia in the past (in other words, around 5000 years ago, in 3000 BC). More specifically, 5061 years ago. His war against the Gods lasted several decades, and it changed the world drastically. Then, the Separation happened (the Ritual which ended with Tyr/Shirou's "death" and disappearance) and it took place precisely 5000 years before the start of this fic (3000 BC). Therefore, in my story, the Age of Gods ended exactly in that same period, 5000 years before the prologue, and it got replaced by the Age of Man right away. 100 years after the Separation, Gilgamesh was born in Uruk (2900 BC). 400 years after the Separation, the first pyramids were built in the land of Egypt (2600-2490 BC). Roughly 2700 years after the Separation, Ozymandias was born (1303 BC). During all this time, Tyr's name and legend were still well-known throughout the lands, and they would begin to disappear only after 3500 years from the Separation (roughly around the late 5th and early 6th centuries, which is when Artoria was born). And so on… the events following his death unfolded exactly as they did in the real world, according to history. It's not that hard to understand: you just need to remember that Shirou's death happened 100 years before the birth of Gilgamesh in 2900 BC (to be honest, no one knows when Gilgamesh was born exactly – or even if he was real at all – but many agree that his legend comes approximatively from that period, so I decided to use that date for his birth), and the following events are all the same according to history. Therefore, Tyr/Shirou is roughly 5061 years old at the current time. He doesn't act like an old man simply because the concept of "time" is different and useless for a God and an immortal being, but yes… he's quite old. I hope it is clear now.

6) - Also, for those wondering, Angra Mainyu was born a few years after the Separation. It has been stated into the CODEX of the previous chapter. So yes, he is technically the Second Hero of the world, for he was born before Gilgamesh. In the canon works, Avenger is probably the oldest Hero of the world, and as such the real "First Hero" of humanity. I wanted to remain true to this fact in my own way.

7) - "Cost of the Crown" is not a poem, but a song written by Mercedes Lackey. I changed the lyrics a bit, since the original song talks about a Queen and not a King.

8) - Lastly: if you catch the JoJo reference in this chapter, you're a hero. It's a very small and subtle one, so it's not easy to find (I think). But I'm not gonna tell you anything.

Next chapter is the end of the Firth Arc, and also the moment a lot of you have been waiting for: the Reveal of Shirou's identity. I'm really looking forward to it, and I can't wait to write that scene. I've planned it since the very beginning of the story, and I can't wait to show it to you guys. I hope you'll look forward to it, if you're interested.

In case I've missed some, as always, please forgive me for any eventual misspellings and grammar mistakes. If you point them out to me, I will correct them as soon as I can.

See you next time.