Type Moon: Social Death Nickname, Starting Lady Crane

The King of Heroes, standing before the King of Conquerors, gazed at the challenger with a carefree gaze while releasing the treasures from his treasury.

Twenty, forty, eighty—a swarm of gleaming Noble Phantasms unfolded in the sky like a starry sky. The radiance of the Noble Phantasms reminded the King of Conquerors of the starry sky he had gazed upon in the East long ago.

“Ah la la la la la!!”

The joy that shook his heart made him roar and gallop with his beloved horse.

The rain of stars rushed over with a heavy whistling sound, and waves of continuous impacts ruthlessly ravaged his entire body. But compared to the pleasure of running, this level of pain was nothing.

He had balked at it, saying that he could never get to "the end"—foolish, a terrible blunder.

The "end" he had been pursuing was now standing before him. After crossing countless mountains and rivers, he finally found his goal.

Then he must surpass the past.

Step over the enemy in front of you.

He advanced step by step, repeating the same action over and over. No matter how far away the figure was, as long as his steps accumulated little by little, he would surely be able to reach that person with the tip of his sword.

The stars poured down with a rumbling sound, and the attack was so powerful that he almost lost consciousness and his body swayed accidentally.

By the time he regained consciousness, he'd already been running. Where had his beloved horse, Bucephalus, rushed to, and where had he fallen? Though he longed to mourn for his friend, who had bravely fulfilled his mission to the very end, he couldn't stop. Every step he took was a tribute to the departed.

His golden enemy wore a know-it-all expression, speaking helplessly. But he couldn't hear anything, not even the rustle of the wind as the flash of light passed by his ears.

He could only hear the sound of waves.

There was nothing on the far shore, and the waves were crashing back and forth. This was the sound of the waves of the final ocean in this world.

Ah, that's how it is. He finally understood with great joy.

Why didn't I realize it before? This passionate and throbbing feeling in my heart is the sound of waves at the end of the sea.

"Haha...ahhahahaha!"

He dreamed of running along the shoreline, the sensation of his toes splashing the sea foam was truly delightful. The seawater that dyed his feet a bright red might have been the blood flowing from his own belly, but so what? Now he was dreaming of this ocean. Could there be greater happiness in the world?

The King of Heroes awaited him, right before his eyes. One more step—and then, with the sword raised high above his head, he would split the man's head.

"Drink ah ah ah!!"

He let out a cry of victory that resounded through the air, and swung down the sword of Jupiter.

This was the climax of the moment, the moment of certainty of victory. A fleeting moment, somehow stretched to an eternity. It was as if even the passage of time had stopped.

No, in fact, it did stop. But it was not time that stopped, but himself.

Just as he was about to strike his opponent with his sword, a strong chain bound his sword, hands, feet, shoulders and waist. The King of Conquerors sighed three times at the restraint.

The Heavenly Chains—the secret within the secrets of the Hero King's collection. A rope capable of binding even the Bull of Heaven.

"This is ridiculous, you... one inexplicable thing after another..."

Strangely, he felt no remorse. He was simply frustrated by a small mistake, and self-mockery brought a wry smile to his bloodstained lips.

The sword of Jupiter missed its target, but the blunt tip of Gilgamesh's sword of renunciation had already pierced Iskandar's chest. The King of Conquerors felt the blade's slow rotation against his lungs. Though he felt helpless, he also admired the sword's power. It was as if everything had nothing to do with him.

"Have you awakened from your dream, King of Conquerors?"

“…Ah, yeah. Yes…”

This time, he still couldn't achieve his dream. The endless dream remained endless, and it ended just like that. But thinking about it carefully, this should be the only dream he had pursued his entire life, a dream that only happened once.

The same dream he had dreamed long ago in Asia Minor—he saw the same dream again in this land of the Far East.

Thinking of all these wonderful things, Iskandar smiled.

If you have the same dream twice, it wouldn't be surprising if it happens a third time.

That is to say,

The next dream is about to begin.

"This expedition also... made me... feel very happy..."

Iskandar narrowed his eyes, hazy with blood mist, and murmured contentedly. Gilgamesh looked at his satisfied expression, nodded solemnly, and said:

"You can challenge me as many times as you like, King of Conquerors."

Despite being pierced by a rain of Noble Phantasms, the opponent remained undeterred until finally being blocked by the Heavenly Chains. For such a courageous opponent, the King of Heroes bestowed upon him the greatest reward: his sincerest praise.

"Until the end of time and space, this entire world will be my garden. So I promise you that you will never get bored in this garden."

"Oh... this is... not bad..."

After finally responding with such a lukewarm answer, the cavalry servant disappeared quietly.

Judging from the duration, this should have been a very brief battle. Before the cavalry heroes quickly rushed to the other side of the bridge, the two sides engaged in a short battle, which should have lasted only a few seconds.

But Waver didn't even blink, imprinting the entire process in his mind. To him, this battle was as long and heavy as a lifetime.

He would never forget this memory, not even if he shut himself off from it. What he had seen in those few seconds had become a part of his soul, inseparable from it.

Waver simply stood motionless where Rider had placed him. Although he knew he had to move quickly, he felt as if even the slightest movement would send him tumbling to his knees.

He couldn't get down on his knees now, not at all.

The golden Archer stared at Waver with his blood-red eyes, showing cruel and fierce light, and slowly walked towards him. He must not look away. Even if his whole body was frozen by fear, Waver only knew that he must not look away. If he looked away now, his life would be in danger.

Archer stood in front of the boy. The boy was shaking with fear that he could not hide, but his eyes never moved. Archer asked the boy in an emotionless tone:

"Little brat, are you the Master of Der?"

Waver had originally thought his throat had become stiff with fear, making it impossible for him to utter a single sound. But when Archer asked about his relationship with "him," his stiff throat relaxed briefly. He shook his head and replied in a hoarse voice:

"No. I am his subject."

"Ok?"

Archer narrowed his eyes and looked Waver over. He finally realized that he could not sense the aura of the Command Seals anywhere on the young man.

"Is that so? Then, little brat, if you are truly his loyal subject, you should have the obligation to avenge the deceased king, right?"

As for the second question, Waver was still able to continue answering with an incredibly calm state of mind.

"...If I challenge you, I will die."

"Of course."

"I can't do this. He ordered me to live."

That's right—he absolutely couldn't die. He had already taken the King's final words to heart.

No matter what, Waver had to escape the danger before him. Though the enemy Servants were before him, and he had no way to protect himself, the situation was almost hopeless—but he absolutely could not give up. He could not trample on that oath in this way.

This may be a more cruel torture than accepting death calmly.

The young man, facing inevitable death, could only tremble helplessly, but his eyes still spoke of his unyielding will. Gilgamesh looked down at the small figure and nodded slightly after a moment.

"Loyalty is commendable, and this kindness must never be forgotten."

If the opponent is neither the Master nor a traitor, but merely a bastard, there is no need to attack. This is the King's decision.

Waver watched silently as the Golden Heroic Spirit turned and leisurely departed. When the figure vanished from sight, and the cold wind blowing off the river completely dissipated the tense atmosphere of the battlefield, the young man found himself alone under the night sky. Only then did he realize that everything was over.

The miracle of having survived made his knees start to tremble again.

The murderous intent that emanated from him, like a breath, silently told Waver that Archer truly intended to kill him. In fact, if Waver had shifted his gaze even slightly, if he had fallen to the ground with his legs weakened, or if he had hesitated in his response, he would have been dead by now.

If anyone mocked him as a coward begging for mercy, it was only because they didn't know the King of Heroes' ruthlessness. Simply resisting the fear and keeping one's life was a battle, a victory.

This was a victory that Webber challenged alone and successfully won.

This was a humble and insignificant battle, far from heroic or magnificent.

Weber didn't defeat anyone, nor did he steal any treasure; he simply escaped from a desperate situation alive.

Even so, Waver still felt happy and proud. Only he himself understood how precious it was to achieve this impossible outcome under the circumstances at that time. This sense of honor only existed in his heart, and he would not be ashamed of it no matter how low it looked in the eyes of others.

He obeyed the king's command, witnessed everything, and survived.

I wish he would praise himself. Praise himself with his giant hand and his rough voice.

There was no need to hide his feelings this time. Waver could definitely hold his head high and show off his achievements to that person.

But in the stillness of the night, Waver was completely alone, with no one by his side. Just like eleven days ago, Waver was once again thrown into this cruel and indifferent corner of the world.

No one knew that he won a battle alone that belonged only to him, and no one praised his victory.

But was it a cruel blow? The answer is no.

He had already received a great deal of praise. The greatest king in the world had recognized him and accepted him as a member of his family. That person told Weber that he would make him his own minister.

It's just that the order is reversed.

The praise he received also included the distant future, so he had to spend all his life accumulating merits in order to be worthy of that praise.

That's right. As long as he had those words back then—he would never be alone.

When Waver realized this, his youth also came to an end.

And for the first time, he learned that tears could sometimes flow for reasons unrelated to regret or humiliation. At that moment, from the deserted bridge, Waver Fairwitt gazed down at the dark, rolling river, letting his tears flow freely.

Those were the passionate tears of a man.

"Before the oath, even parting loses its meaning. Because under Iskandar, the bond between king and subject is eternal and indestructible, transcending time and space."

At this moment, El-Melloi II muttered these words.

He has survived to this day as a vassal of Iskandar.

I am still proud of that battle when I was young.

El-Melloi II didn't know whether others could understand him, but it didn't matter.

As long as he understands it in his heart.

As a vassal of King Iskandar of Conquerors, I am proud to have survived to this day!!!

Just as El-Melloi II was thinking this.

A voice interrupted his recollection.

"professor!!!"

As soon as he heard the voice, El-Melloi II recognized it as Flat's voice.

El-Melloi II turned his head and looked at Flat, signaling him with his eyes to continue.

However, Flat's next words caused El-Melloi II's emotions, which had calmed down, to surge again.

Flat asked with a longing voice.

"Professor, you've become a vassal of the King of Conquerors, and you've formed a bond that transcends time and space. Will you one day become a Heroic Spirit and appear in the ranks of the 'King's Army'?"

El-Melloi II touched the corner of his eye without leaving a trace.

"I hope I can be there and meet the emperor again."

288: Gilgamesh: Throw down your sword and become my wife

At this moment, everyone was immersed in the picture.

No one dueled. What El-Melloi II did was an act of cowardice.

This is a subject's execution of his king's orders.

This is a Master's unconditional trust in his Heroic Spirit.

The relationship between the young man named Waver and the King of Conquerors Iskandar is envied by everyone.

When everyone is immersed in the previous scene and unable to extricate themselves.

The picture began to change.

A new playback title appeared on the screen again.

【FateZero/Emiya Shirou and Emiya Kiritsugu, the succession of justice!!!】

Looking at the title on the screen, the others were a little confused.

However, during the Fourth Holy Grail War, Emiya Kiritsugu was very curious about it.

At this moment, Emiya Kiritsugu of the Fourth Holy Grail War was looking at the title on the screen.

Immediately put down what you were doing.