"First... Ah, right! Before resting, let's hold a banquet! Consider it a celebration for everyone's arrival!"
Since the Emperor had spoken, who would dare refuse?
Thus, the imperial palace was illuminated that night, with plates of fine dishes laid out on the banquet tables. Clad in a rose-red gown as vibrant as the flower itself, the beautiful Emperor smiled brightly and raised her wine cup high:
"Come, everyone! This is the finest wine from the East!"
Faced with the Emperor's enthusiastic invitation, the white-haired general offered a faint smile and downed his cup in one go. Beside him, however, the black-haired young man hesitated, barely wetting his lips before grimacing at the burn.
"Seems like you're not much of a drinker, Fujimaru."
"Well, I'm not really of drinking age yet..." Ritsuka Fujimaru replied with a helpless, clear-eyed smile.
Just as no one had expected the protagonist of King Arthur's legend—or the infamous tyrant of the Roman Empire—to be a girl, how many could have guessed that the Master who restored human order and saved the world was still just an underage boy?
"By the way, Lord Sakatsuki, you recognized our identities immediately back then, didn't you?"
Taking advantage of Nero's absence—she had gone to encourage the soldiers—Fujimaru cut straight to the point, snapping Sakatsuki out of his thoughts.
After their brief introduction on the streets, they had been dragged into the banquet by the enthusiastic Nero. Now, with the Emperor gone, Fujimaru finally had the chance to voice his doubts:
"Since you referred to me as the 'guest from the Observatory'—um, the 'most benevolent' one—does that mean you know about Chaldea?"
Snapping back to reality, Sakatsuki gave Fujimaru a meaningful look—or more precisely, at the wristband he wore.
"Something like that. But more importantly, I have a more pressing question for you."
Staring intently at the puzzled young man, Sakatsuki spoke gravely:
"Where is Mash?"
"Mash?"
The reaction was unexpected.
Upon hearing that name, Fujimaru Ritsuka—undoubtedly the Fujimaru Ritsuka from Chaldea—tilted his head as if hearing something entirely unfamiliar.
"Who... is that?"
For once, Sakatsuki was left speechless. He scrutinized the black-haired youth, confirming that he wasn't lying, before finally averting his oppressive gaze.
"Ask the mage in your wristband. The girl's full name is Mash Kyrielight. Regardless, she is the prerequisite for our conversation."
In the story he remembered from his past life, no matter how different Chaldea's fate was—even if the art style turned into abstract chibi proportions—the Demi-Servant named "Mash," the protagonist's soulmate (and wife) as well as kouhai, should never have disappeared...!
It was like Kirito without Asuna, or Sora without Shiro... Sakatsuki couldn't even imagine what Fujimaru Ritsuka would become without Mash by his side.
Sensing the gravity in Sakatsuki's tone, the black-haired youth frowned and began a hushed conversation with the person on the other end of the wristband. After a long while, he looked up:
"Confirmed. Mash Kyrielight—there's no record of that name in Chaldea's archives. May I ask, Lord Sakatsuki—Lord Sakatsuki?!"
Amidst the startled cry, the white-haired general coldly flicked his fingers, summoning a surge of bloodlust that effortlessly snatched the wristband from Fujimaru's hand.
"Hey, you on the other end. The Sixth Experiment of Chaldea—the vessel for the Demi-Servant Project, Trial No. 2. Even after all that, you still can't find anything?"
"W-Wait, hold on, let me check..." Panicked typing sounds came from the wristband before a gentle voice responded, "Apologies, Lord Sakatsuki. I'm not sure where you obtained this information, but Chaldea truly has no record of such a person. The name of Trial No. 2 isn't that either, um... Wait, isn't this classified?"
"Understood." This time, Sakatsuki abandoned all doubt. Apologizing, he returned the wristband to Fujimaru.
"Lord Sakatsuki, was Mash... someone very important to you?" Fujimaru didn't blame Sakatsuki. Instead, he calmly took back the wristband, curiosity in his voice.
What Fujimaru didn't realize was that his detached curiosity only agitated Sakatsuki further.
"Not to me. The one whose fate was intertwined with that girl was never me." Downing another cup of wine, Sakatsuki steadied himself and forced a smile. "Sorry for showing you such an unsightly side right after meeting. Let me answer one of your questions—Fujimaru Ritsuka, I am not a Servant in the true sense."
"My name is Sakatsuki, a mere magus of the Mage's Association. That's how I know of Chaldea."
"Eh? But you're..."
"Just call me Sakatsuki. This body is a Pseudo-Servant—a human vessel possessed by a Heroic Spirit. However, the Heroic Spirit entrusted me with full control of the personality. Does that make sense?"
"Y-Yes..."
"So, a human who has borrowed the power of a Heroic Spirit. I see," the voice from the wristband remarked. "Then, may I ask, the true name of that Heroic Spirit is..."
"Not telling." For some reason, the moment he heard that voice, Sakatsuki's Spirit Origin instinctively reacted with rejection. Taking a deep breath, he forced his tone to soften. "Sorry, that's not what I meant."
"It's fine, I'm used to it, ahaha..." The voice laughed dryly. "I'm Romani Archaman, head of the Medical Department at Chaldea, the organization for the preservation of human order. Nice to meet you."
Romani Archaman.
'As if I wouldn't know your name, Doctor.'
Warmth flickered in Sakatsuki's eyes as he turned his head slightly, his voice gentle:
"Is that so? Pleased to meet you."
Just then, commotion erupted in the distance. A scout rushed in, kneeling before Nero.
"Your Majesty! A medium-sized allied force is launching a surprise attack on the eastern gate of the capital! Likely the last remnants of the United Empire! Our eastern garrison is struggling to hold them off...!"
Hearing this, Nero visibly deflated.
"Ugh... And here I was about to enjoy a lovely banquet..."
"Then allow me to go, Your Majesty. It's the perfect opportunity to demonstrate our valor to our guests from the Observatory."
A calm voice cut in. The white-haired general set down his freshly warmed wine and rose, striding toward the exit.
As if recalling an anecdote from a certain figure in later history, he smirked and tossed back an order:
"Keep the wine warm. I'll be back shortly."
Drawing his sword, he mounted his horse in one fluid motion.
The sounds of battle grew louder in the distance, and the messenger behind him grew frantic.
"Governor! There are hundreds of them!"
"And what of it? One rider is enough!"
With that arrogant reply, an overwhelming surge of bloodlust erupted skyward, coalescing into a crimson Bird that hovered at the general's side.
After the bloodshed in Pisa, he had finally accumulated enough bloodlust to wield freely.
"Merely a hundred men. No need to waste troops."
Drums and gongs sounded from the city walls as the battle cries intensified. Unfazed, the white-haired general urged his horse forward, the Bird spreading its wings and letting out a piercing cry behind him.
"One strike is all it takes!"
The sword swept out.
Blood dyed the sky.
Death blanketed the land.
As if the heavens had cracked and the earth collapsed, as if mountains crumbled and the earth shook—even the clamor of battle was severed in an instant, leaving only silence.
Trembling, the defenders peeking from behind the walls saw only the white-haired general turning his horse, leisurely riding back toward the palace. Behind him, not a single enemy remained.
On the banquet table, the Eastern wine rippled gently in its cup, steam still rising.
Still warm.
***
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