As ntioned earlier, Sakatsuki had secretly t with Shakespeare without informing the two won from the Blue faction to verify two things.
The first matter had already yielded excellent results: through the miracle of the Third Magic, he could successfully touch Shakespeare’s Noble Phantasm and personally intervene within it.
Shakespeare, summoned as a Caster, possessed a Noble Phantasm called "First Folio: The Ti of Parting Hath Co, He Is the One Who Shall Bear the Thunderous Applause." It was a stage-type Noble Phantasm that forcibly enacted stories according to a script, wielding power equivalent to a Reality Marble.
Though it had no physical impact, it was the worst nightmare for certain Servants. Shakespeare could dredge up the traumas buried deep in their hearts, mocking or ruthlessly criticizing them until their spirits broke. Only a rare few who could declare their lives pure and untainted could overco this Noble Phantasm.
When one’s spirit broke, they would suffer a debuff called [Soul-Crushing Despair]. During its duration, they would be defenseless against anything. Without an automatic counterasure against malice, they would be utterly helpless.
In short, the nature of Shakespeare’s Noble Phantasm was ’fantasy’ and ’simulation.’ Sakatsuki’s Third Magic inherently allowed him to interfere with and adjust spiritual constructs.
Since Servant Noble Phantasms were also composed of spiritual particles, this was precisely why Sakatsuki could successfully enter the stage Shakespeare had constructed.
If that was the case, then the possibility his original self had hinted at truly existed.
As for the second matter—
Sakatsuki gazed at Frankenstein, whom he had pinned to the ground and who had gradually stopped struggling. He sighed softly, released his hold, and extended a hand toward her.
"Let’s talk."
"Ugh..."
Perhaps because she sensed no hostility from the young man, or perhaps because Sakatsuki’s previous feats were so overwhelming that Frankenstein knew she stood no chance, she eventually nodded. Sakatsuki pulled her up, and she sat properly on the ground.
"Let make this clear first: this is the Red Caster’s environnt, aning you can’t receive support from any of the Black faction’s Servants."
Sakatsuki sat cross-legged and calmly stated the bleak reality: "And outside, I—an Assassin—am standing right in front of your physical body. I’m sure you understand the implications."
In other words, the Black faction’s Berserker, Frankenstein, was destined to die here.
Perhaps because the young man before her was so straightforward, Frankenstein stared at him blankly, unable to muster anger toward soone who was about to kill her.
No—more accurately, her heart had always harbored a desire for destruction. Not just to ruin others’ lives, but her own as well.
"For an ignorant lifeform, organs are indeed beautiful because they represent the essence of life."
Unexpectedly, when Frankenstein remained silent, Sakatsuki began chatting with her.
"Bla the doctor who created you... Well, I won’t speak ill of him. In any case, if he had taught you basic knowledge, you wouldn’t have chosen the worst possible option among so many."
"This is not your fault, Frankenstein."
At so point, the iridescent blue glow in the young man’s eyes struggled to fade, replaced by a gentle warmth that starkly contrasted with an assassin’s deanor.
"But speaking of which, it truly is the fate of the Holy Grail War, isn’t it? Did you know, you bear a striking resemblance to the Red Faction’s Saber—her na is Mordred."
"Mm?"
Resemblance?
This observation perked Frankenstein’s interest. Hugging her knees, she listened quietly as Sakatsuki continued.
"She was an artificial human, created yet yearning for the father she was ant to oppose. Yet, that father, who understood nothing of human hearts, denied her very existence."
"And so, love twisted into hatred, and she chose rebellion against her king—even if it ant destroying everything her father held dear, just to be seen in his eyes."
"Like her, you too stumbled onto that clumsy path of binding relationships through hatred."
"Mm..."
Ken-nyan (a nickna for Frankenstein) fell silent. The girl Sakatsuki described indeed mirrored her own story—both artificial beings, both clinging to their fathers, both rejected, both turning love into hatred, both ending their lives in mutual destruction with their fathers.
"Only, her wish was to see her father smile, while yours was to find a companion—hmm, both troubleso desires, yet in the end, weren’t they both fulfilled?"
Fulfilled?
Frankenstein looked at Sakatsuki blankly, then suddenly recoiled with intense resistance—only to be t with the young man’s rciless chop to her head.
"Of course, your companion couldn’t possibly be . Think back, Frankenstein. Wasn’t your Master, Caules, the one who beca your ideal partner?"
For Ken-nyan, whose fate was sealed here, Sakatsuki saw no reason to withhold the truth and gave her the answer outright.
Master? My... Master?
A re human, a re magi—how could he be the companion for an artificial being like ? How could he possibly be "Frankenstein’s Bridegroom"?
Under the influence of her Mad Enhancent, Ken-nyan frantically tapped her head, trying to untangle the chaotic emotions and the inexplicable joy that even death couldn’t erase.
In the vast records of fate, bound to her Master—
Sharing companionship, experiencing the Holy Grail War together with him—
Her own demise following his death—
If she replaced "Master" with "Bridegroom," wouldn’t it all make sense?
Realizing this, Frankenstein suddenly grew restless. Crackling with electricity, her face flushed red as she let out muffled whimpers like a large dog, her snow-white bridal gown swaying with her movents.
But soon, she fell silent again. Monts later, she lifted her head, her heterochromatic eyes brimming with longing.
I want to go back. I want to see him.
If you’re willing to tell this much, then at least... let see my "Bridegroom" one last ti—
"Ah... this is tricky."
Faced with Ken-nyan’s silent plea, the young man scratched his cheek awkwardly and smiled wryly. "Though I’d love to facilitate a happy ending, projecting my consciousness here alone is already a stretch. Controlling this ’’s’ actions is beyond . My apologies."
Sensing Sakatsuki’s refusal and regret, the girl’s gaze dimd, but she shook her head and painstakingly ford words through her circuits:
"It’s... fine, thank you."
Even if she returned to the Throne of Heroes, this record would remain. That way, perhaps her slow-witted mind would finally understand the next ti she was summoned.
"Again, my apologies. I swear upon the na of Sakatsuki that the next ti we et, I shall fulfill your request." The young man nodded, and for a brief mont, Frankenstein sensed the dissipation of a certain consciousness—replaced instead by suddenly illuminated irises of prismatic blue and a razor-sharp aura.
"It seems the conversation is over, so I’ll be direct. Berserker of the Black Faction, Frankenstein. The reason I allowed ’myself’ to ramble on—aside from needing him to relay the record—was to ensure your willing cooperation in a certain act."
So saying, the Assassin pointed at the weapon resting beside Frankenstein.
"Kill yourself, Berserker."
"Then hand over your Noble Phantasm—Bridal Chest."
And so, make your wish upon the Holy Grail.
Please grant her the one who can make her human.
But in the end—that is, the matter of eting her Master—the girl would still need a little more ti to realize it.
Reviews
All reviews (0)