There was something freeing about traveling the open roads with no real plan outside of a destination and no allotted time frame. It did not matter if he wanted to stop to hunt in the open plains and lounge beneath the stars at night for a few extra days in his temporary camp or if he finally decided to move on and walk fifty miles the next day. The liberation of having no expectations, pressing threats, or controlling deities throwing him to various centuries into the past or future whenever humanity was threatened was… indescribable.
Yes, he had been free from Alaya's leash for fifteen years, but after being stuck in the same location for so long it had started to feel like its own prison in a way. Still, it was a much nicer prison without the need to eradicate potential world ending problems and he had the opportunity to speak to people, relatives and friends to enjoy a warm pot of tea with and laugh about stupid shit and potential dreams they might have had… Funnily enough Emiya refused to answer whenever the question was directed his way with a misdirection or insult. He couldn't deny that he'd miss it, but…
He always felt a pressing desire to leave. He had so many unanswered questions that had been piling up ever since he'd reincarnated. Why him? Was it only him? Who gave him this second chance? Perhaps most importantly, what did they expect of him?
Round and round they circled and finally he had an outlet, a chance to possibly find an answer to his burning curiosity. Ever since he'd heard of Orario, he felt like his fate was tied to the area. Or more specifically, the dungeon. A profession where he can fight without hurting people, save the lives of the innocent, and coincidentally earn enough money to do anything he wants in the process? Who wouldn't be intrigued by the possibility with his ideals… even as shattered and broken as they were?
After his fight with Shirou in the clash of their ideals, it was true that he had taken a long time to reminisce on his life's decisions and… he came to the conclusion that… the decisions he made… couldn't have been wrong. To say he regretted saving someone was the same as rejecting his existence ever since he told his father that he'd follow in his footsteps to achieve his dream. Did he hate everything he did after his execution? Absolutely. That wasn't even a question.
But the life he lived, that as a normal man, Shirou Emiya, he had never once swayed in his convictions. It had only taken the beat down he had given to his naive past self to remind him as to why he had loved trying to become a hero… even if he hadn't achieved it in the end. It was the beauty of the dream at the end that had pushed him to remain standing during situations and opponents that said he was hilariously outmatched and should be dead… but won in the end anyway.
However, millennia of cursing his fate was not so easy to just "get over it." His ideals were like the rust that filled his reality marble. Broken and useless. Yes- that was true- and yet- and yet… rust too can be used as a weapon. Thermite. Sparks that could warm his soul into the blaze and reforge him anew. He felt like his body and mind were lumps of raw iron waiting to be heated and wrought into proper shape. It kept cycling within him. Would he damn himself once again if he took up the unbearably heavy sword of justice? For that… he didn't have an answer… Well, there was a way to go before he arrived in Orario. Perhaps he'd have his answer by the time he arrived.
—O—
On his journey south, he had come across a great number of monsters, though the difference in strength between them and the Black Scorpions was like heaven and earth. The magic stones they dropped were mere fragments or little larger than his thumbnail, but it wasn't like he was actively hunting for them either. Something about him seemed to draw the damn things like a moth to a flame though, so it wasn't like he was hurting in the number of stones he collected.
When his money ran dry from buying rations as he stopped through small towns and villages he used the magic stones to trade instead. At the very least it relieved him of the extra weight of carrying rocks. The only stone he refused to part with was the one he had carved from the first scorpion. The large size of the stone meant it was not only stronger physically, but also more powerful in terms of the magic within it; he was waiting for the right opportunity to use it.
The first true obstacle to his journey came nearly three months after he'd departed. He had traveled lightly west towards the coast following the worn dirt path and was treated to a port town that looked like it was on its last legs. The buildings were in disrepair, the cobblestone roads were so broken it looked more like gravel, and the people all walked with a hunch in their shoulders. It was the last observation that set his nerves on alert.
As "Weiss Forestlight" was "dead," he had once more returned to using only the name Emiya as an alias. It was as comfortable and easy to respond to as his "true" name, so it was what he'd introduced himself as whenever it needed to be shared when greeting certain shop owners.
Emiya saw the demure faces as he passed through the main street. Few could meet his eyes and those that did quickly averted their gaze as if he was about to strike them.
Sure, at the age of fifteen he'd grown taller, nearly reaching 5'9" and if his genetics indicated anything he was sure to grow even taller than in his previous life, but he highly doubted that was the reason for their fear. It could be because he was an outsider and wearing a hood and mask that obscured his face, but as a port town they would frequently deal with visitors if they wished to stay afloat as a community by exporting and importing goods to foreigners. Which meant the reasons as to why they were scared were slowly narrowing and the picture becoming both clearer and more infuriating by the second.
He even saw a couple burned down buildings which its owners and neighbors had clearly taken no attempt to clear or scrounge through the rubble.
Well that's not suspicious at all.
His best guess was they were being monitored by a group or organization. Banditry or perhaps even a callous lord raising taxes with little regard as to whether they could sustain themselves. He'd seen innumerable ways humanity had expressed their greed over the millennia. He didn't like it any more than he had the first time he'd seen it, but- that's life.
He stopped through the tavern, a prime spot to catch the largest selection of residents with the additional benefit of them having loosened lips when they're drunk as a skunk. Emiya asked if the barkeep accepted stones as a form of payment and other than a raised brow, he received a nod and he took an ale to "relax from his travels" at the corner of the bar and closed his eyes or looked at his drink, taking a sip every once in a while to blend in.
The ale tasted like piss mixed with honey and he did his best not to grimace with every sip. Did people really call this alcohol palatable? The benefit of it tasting so bad at least made his longer stay of nursing the drink more believable.
"...three more days…"
"...couldn't wait a little longer…"
"...assholes couldn't-"
"Hush! You don't want them to catch you insulting them…"
"...last coin to my name."
"Why're you spending it here then?"
The last quip brought a smirk to Emiya's face that he buried behind a sip that made him nearly vomit. The rest of it was concerning, but the picture was most definitely growing clearer.
"...need something to brighten my days," the offended man responded through the laughter of his drinking buddies. Yeah. The picture was damn near crystal.
A "protection" racket. A group was draining them dry and they had no hope of sustaining themselves. Trade was slow going because they couldn't buy the visitors wares and the foreigners wouldn't waste the time to travel here anymore to exchange the resources they needed if the residents couldn't scrape two valis together to buy a fruit. Additionally no adventurer worth their salt would be willing to go so far out of their way to help such an insignificant and small town. What a vicious cycle.
Now what was he to do? This wasn't his problem, but could he really let a few assholes destroy an entire town? He wasn't a hero of justice anymore… he wasn't. He wasn't! But was he such a scumbag he'd let this disgusting practice go on especially since he doubted anyone here would be capable of standing up to him?
"Thanks for the drink," Emiya said, sliding an extra stone fragment as a tip and departed from the bar, fully intending on leaving the town to its woes. This wasn't his problem. They could deal with the problem themselves if they learned to work together and drive out the people responsible for this.
He shouldered his pack to a more comfortable position and drew his hood tighter around his head so his face was encased in shadow as he slowly strolled from the main street down a quieter road… or not.
A woman screamed in an alley down the road. "Stop it! Get OFF!"
The townsfolk coming home from their jobs beside it took one pitying glance before shamefully ignoring the woman crying out.
Talk about honor and loyalty to the community.
Unfortunately Emiya was familiar with this aspect of humanity as well. The apathy of those incapable of inflicting change.
"Please!" she yelled once more before her screams grew muffled. Don't get involved. This will only bite you in the ass. He sighed. He didn't listen to himself.
He sprinted and rounded the corner to find three men in the middle of stripping the woman of her dress. One of them caught sight of him and called out, "What do you want? Come to enjoy the show?"
He said nothing. He dashed forward faster than the first man could blink with his palm flattened and smashed it into his nose. As the man reeled from the unexpected agony Emiya sweeped his feet out from under him and stomped his foot down hard against his throat, uncaring if the man was still breathing or not as he struggled to open his esophagus again.
His two friends took his challenge personally. One brought out a jagged dagger while the other pulled a short sword from his back. Emiya tilted his head mockingly and the two snarled at him, lunging in an ill timed pincer attack. A simple distribution of his weight to his back heel allowed him to tilt to the side and snatch the wrist of the dagger wielder and a tug and uppercut snapped the bone in two and snatched the weapon from his hand.
As the man howled in pain and anger, Emiya used his borrowed weapon to sideswipe the more skillful slash of the sword wielder. Three slashes later Emiya angled the man's sword enough for a quick jab to the elbow made his fingers temporarily unresponsive and a flick of his wrist had the sword flying into the wall of the building. He stumbled back as Emiya advanced, tripping over the first man and landed on his ass even as he started crab walking backwards from him as if he was Death incarnate.
"Do you have any idea who we are?" he quailed in fear. "Do you know who we work for?"
"I couldn't care less," his baritone voice somewhere between icy rage and toneless apathy caused the man to flinch.
"You're dead! My boss and men will come for you-"
That was as far as he got before a boot slammed into the side of his temple and did the same to the knife wielder who had still clung to consciousness.
Emiya turned to the woman still frozen in shock since he arrived, her dress still in disarray and torn from the men's eager and lust filled, filthy hands.
She was rather pretty, Emiya admitted. Her bright ginger hair and teal eyes- so much like Saber's- turned an otherwise plain "girl next door" look into the town's beautiful starlet. Combining her facial features with an impressive chest in a tightly cut, low hanging dress, he fully understood why those men had chosen her even if he disagreed with their… forceful methods.
"Are you alright," he asked gently, stopping a few paces away to not startle her. She jumped and her mouth flapped as her words failed her. She probably was still in shock at seeing her three oppressors manhandled so easily, he reasoned.
Well, there wasn't much he could do about that. It wasn't like he could offer her a place to stay as a form of protection. On the other hand, he could always invite himself over to stay with her, however… Considering what she just almost went through, inviting a stranger and a man nonetheless into her home was probably the last thing on her list of good ideas.
"Miss?" Emiya prompted again. "Are you alright?"
"Y- yes. Thank you for saving me."
"... You're welcome," he said quietly. When was the last time he'd genuinely been thanked for saving someone? It was so long ago. Had he once enjoyed the experience or did he simply move on to the next job, and the next mission, and the next battle to help those in need?
"Will you be alright if I leave? Or rather, is there anyone I can escort you to that can take care of you?"
"N- no. I- I'll be fine on my own. My sister lives just down the street with me. W- we should b- be fine."
Her stuttering certainly didn't fill him with confidence. Nevertheless, he simply nodded and started walking out of the alley before jumping to the rooftop once he turned the corner to stay out of sight. He crouched over the roof to observe her taking one last glance at the thugs piled on top of each other and tried to futilely fix her dress and hair but only further tore the skirt and mussed her bun.
She moaned in frustration before stiffening her shoulders and tried to portray a mask of confidence as she quickly strode down the street, but between her earlier screams and the people they'd seen her with, no one could meet her gaze. She put on an air of indifference but Emiya hadn't missed the tremble of her shoulders nor the arm that threatened to wrap around her other arm to hug herself tightly for protection.
She was terrified. Emiya's eyes softened as a note of admiration sparked within him. She was a lot stronger than people probably gave her credit for.
He hopped from roof to roof, made much easier by the town's preference to keep the buildings so close to each other as he kept watch for any more of those thugs. By that man's ramblings, unless he was lying- which he highly doubted because he used the word "boss," indicating he saw himself as lesser a man instead of people who would avenge his brutal takedown- then it was likely there were a great many unscrupulous individuals lying in wait either on the edge or having taken over the town from within.
Once the girl made her way inside to her horrified sister who had immediately started taking care of her, Emiya spared the girl one last glance before moving towards the shoreline. It all depended on whether these people were stupid enough to steal from the merchants who were stubborn enough to keep trading within this port. If they wanted to keep a firm grip on the town they would need either a lookout or a safehouse that allowed them a view of the incoming ships to make sure they paid the "tax" due to them.
How many men did they have? How many bases? Did the group only have a hold in this town or were there others under their grip? Did any of them have magic weapons? Were there any former adventurers among them? He wanted to know at least this much before engaging.
Emiya stayed in the shadows as he observed the men and women passing through the streets either more finely dressed than the rest or were carrying a weapon. Seventeen men and six women holding some form of armament had passed through one of the taller buildings a street away from the port before sunset before leaving for their own temporary homes or stayed within to bunk.
Was this where the "boss" stayed?
Emiya slinked from building to building before laying atop the roof of their base and spied through the top floor's windows to see if there were any occupants. No one. He pulled back his head to see that they would have an excellent view of the port from this one room. The equivalent of a crow's nest on a ship or a guard's watchtower.
The room below didn't have any quality furniture so he doubted whoever was powerful or charismatic enough to lead at least twenty-five people would favor better sleeping quarters… but who knows? He had met stranger individuals who broke the norm.
Now there was only one last question to ask himself. Did he follow through and kill these people? It wasn't like these people would be able to feed and imprison this many people should they be arrested here and he highly doubted there would be a nation within reach who would be willing to take the lot out of the goodness of their hearts. Which meant…
Fuck. I thought I was done with this.
His eyes turned flinty and traced a white hilted dagger that once belonged to his faithful blonde servant. His body was enveloped by shadows and he flipped himself off the edge of the roof to gently push through the window before making his way through the room to the hallway.
A man having a smoke while he sharpened his longsword found his throat slashed and his cleanly sharpened sword was stained with his own blood. He fell back onto his bed with only a muffled thud.
Sorry.
The next had a blade to the back of their head through their spine, a harsh twist sent their body toppling to the floor.
Damn it.
Emiya moved behind a pillar as a man came searching from the next room and put him in a chokehold before he joined his friend on the ground.
Stop this.
A group of three rowdy individuals found swords flashing towards their necks as they rounded a corner.
Why are you doing this?
Five more were staked to the walls with a sword impaled through the chest.
STOP IT!
Tears would not come, they never would, but the tightening of his stomach was agonizing. Shouting echoed from below as they realized they were under attack. It wouldn't make a difference.
Their skill was lacking. It was easy. It was so fucking easy to kill them. His once numb soul cried out at his actions. This was the right thing to do. They were going to kill all of these people from starvation. He was saving them. He was saving the majority at the cost of the few evil.
What are you doing you IDIOT?
Is he really going to make the same mistakes again?
You are no fucking hero! Your ideals were shattered and rusted like an ancient sword! SO WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?
He sighed and bumped into a wall with his shoulder. He was so tired of this already.
He found the "boss" in the basement, throwing bags upon bags of valis and gold into a chest. Greed. It was humanity's worst sin; worse than pride or wrath, it was greed that caused the most problems. Those gripped by its heavenly looking allure acted selfishly and tore down those for a penny, a pound, or a valis more. More. More. More!
He was sick of people who acted so damn greedy. His bow was drawn and aimed for the vile man but he possessed better instincts than his men. He tumbled to the side to avoid the arrow that obliterated the stone wall with and grimaced at the destruction.
Carnwennan's ability faded with his position having been spotted, but he still had one more use for the dagger.
"Hey now. There's no need for violence-" the boss said with a slimy smile.
"Carnwennan!"
Emiya invoked its true name and threw the knife. Much like Gaé Bolg it would always find its mark… but there was no guarantee to the heart. The boss jumped at an angle but was shocked to find the knife turn in the air and struck his shoulder through to the bone. "Boss" groaned through gritted teeth before sending a withering glare his way.
"Big mistake fucker!"
He pulled the blade from his arm with a pained groan and Emiya waited to see how he'd react. The boss retrieved an elegant rapier from his side and golden eyes recorded the weapon into his reality marble. Well made and surprisingly durable for its plain steel material, but of little significance or a threat… or at least that would be if Emiya were to use it.
The man used the sword more as a wand than a sword to focus his magic. Dozens, hundreds of spells have been cast from it. He was a man who realized the worth of dedicated practice. Unfortunately he had no falna.
A charge grew in the air sending his hair on end. Emiya grimaced. His last encounter with lightning hadn't gone so well. Fortunately he had a surprise already awaiting for his opponent. He stupidly hadn't discarded the knife in his hand… a dagger filled with his mana primed and awaiting his order.
The man opened his mouth to chant his spell but only got halfway through before Emiya broke the construct in his palm. The destabilized dagger exploded and the man did what a caster of magic should never do in this world- he left the spell incomplete. Instant Ignus Fatuus. The spell backfired and his hands were mangled in the backlash. He didn't let the opportunity pass.
He lunged forward with Kanshou raised and struck his temple… with the side of his blade. The man had valuable information after all. The fight was a bit anticlimactic to be honest, and usually he would have not thought twice about putting down a piece of shit like this that could command so many people to starve out a town, but he wanted to know if this was as far as the operation spread or if there were others involved in the scheme. Would more come to take their place? Someone worse?
He retrieved a rope from the upper floor and reinforced it to the max before tying the man from the neck down and hung him upside down from the ceiling's rafters. The blood rushed to his face quickly, turning the bruise on his face from a royal blue into a dark purple.
After a quick inspection of the room Emiya looked through the man's belongings. Money was not the only thing he decided was worth taking. In addition to a few old books he found a ledger filled with records of mass amounts of valis flowing between a Mr. Blank and a Ms. Brown and someone that went unnamed. Aliases. Given their criminal dealings it was probably not a bad idea, but it was easier than most people thought to track down their identities if you stayed with only one.
While he was far from an accountant, Emiya had some experience with following one shadowed organization by hunting the underlings and their paperwork before climbing up the ladder to destroy their enterprise at its core.
He retrieved a chair and leaned it back against the wall as he waited for the boss to awaken. He let out a quiet sigh before closing his eyes. He was a real creature of habit, wasn't he?
He fell into a light doze but kept his ears sharp in case there were any stragglers who would make their way into the base later and still had enough lucidity to think about the situation. Who was Ms. Brown and Mr. Blank? The amount of money being transferred between the two was not at all a small nut. It was the third one that gave him the most worry though. Mysteries. He really hated them.
More worrisome than the two aliased individuals was the object labeled "Product Gold." At first he thought it was a mislabel or grammatical error as he sped through the pages, but he later found a letter between the two stuck in the back pages of the ledger describing a shipment had been seized by a third party and their quota would be short unless they risked discovery to retrieve more. His first thought went towards drugs. Calling a drug Gold was an excellent way to hide small shipments through various businesses so long as the bottom numbers remained relatively even at the end of the year for the auditors.
Funny how even in the Age of the Gods those irritations existed, but he (very reluctantly) agreed that they were important to keep businessmen… slightly more honest.
A quiet moan assaulted his ears and Emiya smirked as the man blinked rapidly to clear his vision as pain flooded his brain from the overabundance of blood and the massive swelling welt on his head.
"Feeling better?" Emiya asked, moving his chair so he sat less than a foot away from his prisoner.
"When I get out of here-"
"Can you not?" Emiya broke through the man's sure-to-be-monologue in its tracks. "I'd like to get a move on before the sun goes down and I really don't want to listen to empty threats."
The man grew purple in the face as his pride took a further blow.
"I'm going to-" He gagged as Emiya punched his stomach.
"Listen, I have no issue with breaking every bone in your body before skinning you alive. And if you're still alive I'll continue on to cut off you one extremity at a time before hacking limbs off in inch long increments," Emiya's toneless voice sent shivers down the man's spine.
"You're a psychopath," he whispered in horror. He couldn't move an inch and this man… monster… specter of death was saying he'd enjoy it! "W- what do you want?" he finally asked once he managed to gain a small semblance of rationality.
"Now you're getting it," Emiya mockingly praised. "I have a few questions and I'd like you to answer them honestly. And to ensure I know you're telling the truth… I have a gift for you!" he said in false cheerfulness, though his voice was still flat… dead. Beneath the folds of his cloak, Emiya traced a small black bone dagger and advanced his arm so it rested against the prisoner's throat.
"W- wait!" he freaked, seeing the point scraping his jugular.
Emiya didn't listen. The dagger slid into his neck and the prisoner closed his eyes as pain assaulted him… before it abruptly vanished?
"What?" he croaked.
"The 'Dagger that Burns Lies,'" Emiya explained. "If you lie, we'll both know."
The man looked at him in disbelief.
"Well… you can always try to lie if you want. I think it'll be educational for you and quite entertaining for me."
The man lowered his gaze in submission.
"Fine!" he spat. "What do you want?" Emiya already had a list of questions at the ready.
"Ms. Brown. Where can I find her?" he threw out. It was both a test and fishing for information.
"... Rakia-" was as far as he got before he started groaning as if a blazing hot poker was being stabbed into his spine.
The Dagger that Burns Lies was a mystic code he'd created that worked like that of a scale. His target could only feel the pain that Emiya had experienced in his life. He had done so to not abuse it as someone should know exactly how painful the damage they are inflicting on those they're interrogating. The man was currently feeling the same pain Emiya had gone through every time he had created an artificial magic circuit with his spinal nerves.
"You will continue to feel pain until you speak the truth."
He spat a wad of saliva even as his spine jerked and he spun in the air a bit like a pendulum until Emiya steadied him.
"Please!" he begged, "Make it stop!"
"That power lies solely in your hands. Give me a location."
"No. Ahhh! The- the Grand Casino! She's in Amusement City Santorio Vega!" He moaned in relief as the pain ebbed and his teeth chattered and tears slipped to the floor.
"What is Product Gold?" Emiya asked, but he already had a theory as to what their "product" was.
"Ms. Brown collects the most attractive men and women from around the world. She took over the remnants of Terry Cervantes's operations and is-"
"Is what?" Emiya barked.
"She wants to run the Ishtar Familia out of the Red Light District."
"She wants a monopoly," Emiya deduced. The man nodded anyway.
"Slavery isn't illegal in the Kaios Desert," he explained fearfully. "All of her slaves are funneled through there before being relocated to her desire. It's a legal grey area she has been exploiting."
Emiya narrowed his eyes. "Who is Mr. Blank?"
"I don't know," he implored, evenly meeting his eyes. The dagger clearly agreed.
"How do you choose your targets?" The man ducked his eyes.
"We- I- I have my men steal from a town until they have nothing left. Once they've run out of options we offer them a choice. To eat from our hands in bondage or starve."
Emiya tightened his fists until his nails threatened to pierce the skin.
"We ship them through a caravan when directed every few months. Unless My- Ms. Brown says otherwise."
"My!" I knew there was something between them.
"Who is Ms. Brown to you?" Emiya asked coldly. The man stayed silent until the dagger activated after five seconds of silence. He whined as the feeling enveloping him felt like he was being burned alive by hellhounds.
"My mistress!" he finally howled to remove the pain of burning in Fuyuki's cursed fire. "We were together until she sent me north to gather her people to refill the ranks left in Cervantes's collapse."
"It sounds like you couldn't satisfy her," Emiya jabbed. The man chuckled brokenly.
"No one can. She always wants more," he sounded so defeated that Emiya almost pitied him.
"That's rough buddy."
"I don't need your pity-"
Squick!
A head dropped to the floor with a grotesque wet flop as Emiya stood over the corpse that was bleeding like a strung up pig in a slaughterhouse. Emiya took a step away before the blood could soak into his boots. It was so hard to get the red stains out of them.
"Very well. I won't."
Emiya eyed the chest of money and retrieved only enough to fill his pouch before carrying the chest out of the basement with a hefty grunt. The townspeople deserved for their money to be returned to them… and he had just the right girl in mind to do it.
—O—
Emiya observed from a hilltop as cheering spread from the town, people crying tears of joy and embracing each other as bags of valis were distributed relatively evenly between them all. The girl with Saber's eyes he had saved stood on a makeshift stand from a stack of large boxes and held a page of their neighbors names with a graph of how many residents were in each house to make it fair.
A small smile came to his lips as he remembered her expression that morning when he arrived at her door still slightly covered in blood but a chest exploding with valis that he promptly set in her doorway and left with only a short goodbye over his shoulder. Denial, that what she was seeing was a dream, was prominent followed by a burst of joy and unending gratitude.
He swished his cloak and pulled up his hood further around his head. His next trail would take him through Dedine, most notable for its Desert of Death Ash or Black Desert for short. The death bed of the Behemoth which poisoned the grounds for eternity… or so they say.
He was planning on filling up a few empty bags he had for exotic ingredients he may come across on his travels and other than an herb that is said to never perish, he was also going to collect a bit of the ash to study its effects. Who knows, there may be a useful clue in it to restart the environment. It wasn't at all a priority, but if he could, why not?
He had a few weapons in his armory that could cause floods and rainfall and some that could till the earth and even a few that produce purified air. It would be no skin off his back to waste a day's worth or two of mana. After that… he'd see what he could do about the slave situation.
—O—
{AN: Before any of you start saying this is way too OOC for EMIYA, I think it's important to remember the line said as Archer and Shirou are fighting in the UBW route. "He does not answer as to why he did not block an attack he should have been able to easily block, and it is possible he does not know the answer." Then later EMIYA is shown back in the employ of Alaya and confirms that the path (in his life) ["his path had not been wrong"] . That he truly didn't have any regrets for his life even up to the day of his execution.
I believe that EMIYA, despite his bitterness of having his ideals shattered, truly WANTS to continue pursuing his dream but at the same time HATES that he can't do anything about it with Alaya controlling him. So if offered the second chance to continue where he left off… wouldn't he try to seize it with both hands despite his doubts on his capabilities to inflict change on the world?
I don't know, tell me what you think. Review if you can your interpretation of how EMIYA is at the end of the UBW route and I'll try to adjust it if I'm hilariously wrong.}