"Eh? Protect this child?" — Fiore couldn’t help but feel surprised at Astolfo’s request.
Her astonishnt, however, only grew greater when she learned that Siegfried had gone so far as to nearly sacrifice his own life to save that young homunculus.
"Of course... it’s not a difficult task." — Fiore agreed, her voice serene, though her mind was already running through calculations and strategies.
She recognized, and even valued, the goodwill the Servants displayed. But it wasn’t re altruism that drove her. Fiore had her own desires, her own selfish need that justified her participation in the Holy Grail War: healing her legs. That was her dream—her silent obsession.
And to achieve it, she needed victory. That’s why she was already considering not only the imdiate battle between the Red and Black factions, but also what would happen afterward, when alliances crumbled and each Master sought the Grail for themselves.
With the exception of Gilgash, whose unpredictability made him untouchable, Fiore believed she could secure the loyalty of both Astolfo and even Siegfried. Especially now: Astolfo seed determined to protect the boy, likely to the point of disobeying his Master’s orders, and Siegfried... Siegfried had already shown signs of disapproval toward Gordes.
After everything, it was impossible for the dragon-slayer not to harbor resentnt. Gordes had wasted two Command Seals foolishly, and there was no telling when he would use the last one.
"Excellent, thank you, Fiore!" — Astolfo exclaid, bursting with enthusiasm at her reply.
"You have my gratitude, Fiore." — Arthur added with a faint smile.
By preventing Siegfried’s sacrifice, Arthur had, unknowingly, altered the homunculus’s entire future. And so, he felt it only fair to offer his support, as compensation for the destiny he had, even if indirectly, changed.
"It’s not good to leave him in Millennia Fortress." — Arthur said gravely.
"Eh? Why?" — Astolfo blinked, confused.
Arthur sighed before answering:
"Think, Astolfo. These lands are a battlefield. Dozens of homunculi are sent to the front lines. They have no identity, no will of their own. They are tools, nothing more than disposable vessels. But this child is different. He’s already shown sothing the others lack: a sense of self... and above all, an instinct for survival."
Arthur crossed his arms, gazing at the unconscious boy.
"Now imagine what will happen to him when he awakens and sees his own kind, identical in appearance, sent to die without resistance or purpose. It will shatter him inside. He won’t be able to endure that sight."
"Indeed..." Chiron nodded, his expression heavy.
"Then I’ll arrange for a vehicle to take him sowhere safe tomorrow." — Fiore decided.
"Good. He should wake soon. Say your farewells for now." Arthur said to Astolfo and Siegfried, who were still in the room.
With that, Arthur, Chiron, and Fiore left.
In the corridor, the sound of wheelchair wheels echoed, pushed by Chiron’s steady hands. Master and Servant moved side by side, while Arthur accompanied them in silence. But the silence did not last long.
"If you wish to ask sothing, then do so at once, Chiron." — Arthur broke the quiet, his tone almost playful.
"Heh... so I truly failed to hide it." — the centaur chuckled, slightly embarrassed.
"Not for a second." — Arthur replied, smiling.
"You were the hero who gathered all the treasures of the world, storing them within your personal vault..." — Chiron said, leaving the sentence hanging.
"Correct. That is the manifestation of my Noble Phantasm: the Gate of Babylon." — Arthur confird.
The centaur’s eyes turned to Fiore, and his next question was direct, almost cruel in its honesty:
"Then... among those treasures, is there not one that could cure her legs?"
Fiore flinched in her chair, startled by the sudden ntion of her burden.
Arthur stared at Chiron in silence for a few monts before speaking:
"You seem pessimistic about the future."
"This is not pessimism." — Chiron answered, turning his gaze to the moonlit window.
"It is prudence. I do not know if I will survive my duel with Achilles. He has long since surpassed ..."
"Chiron!" — Fiore cried, her voice breaking with grief.
Though their ti together had been short, she already held deep respect for him. The re thought of losing him broke her heart.
"I will help you, Fiore." — Arthur suddenly said, cutting through the heavy silence. "But in return... I want to learn sothing from you, Chiron."
"..." — the centaur raised a brow, intrigued.
"I want you to teach ." — Arthur finished.
For a mont, Chiron was perplexed, until he laughed and replied:
"Hah! To have the chance to teach the so-called King of Heroes? I would do that even without receiving anything in return!"
"Just don’t expect to call you teacher." — Arthur retorted with a faint smile.
And so, the three headed toward Fiore’s room.
---
Fiore, now seated on her bed, flushed crimson at the light touch of Arthur’s hand upon her legs. Though she could not move them, they still retained sensation.
Arthur, however, was serious. His eyes glowed as he channeled mana to examine her circuits.
"Fiore..." — he said after a few monts. "There are no physical injuries to your legs, which is why ordinary healing magic will not work. The problem is not physical, but structural: your magical circuits are malford. They block the flow of prana and, as a result, your neural connection cannot be sustained."
The young woman clutched the sheets tightly, listening to every word.
"To be honest... there are very few ways to fix this while keeping your circuits intact and restoring your full mobility." — Arthur continued.
"The simplest would be to rely on the Holy Grail. It could rewrite your condition at a fundantal level."
Fiore took a deep breath, already expecting that answer. But Arthur did not stop there.
"The second thod... is not conventional. And personally, I do not recomnd it."
"Why?" — Chiron interjected.
"Because the alternative would be to turn you into a Demi-Servant."
Fiore’s eyes widened.
"Demi... Servant? What is that?"
Arthur sat down in the nearby chair.
"Demi-Servants are humans who have part of a Heroic Spirit integrated into their bodies through a Controlled Possession Ritual. In essence, they share the sa core. The human keeps their identity but gains a fragnt of the hero’s power. At a cost: they will never again be completely independent."
"So sothing like that is truly possible?" — Chiron asked, intrigued.
"Yes." — Arthur answered firmly.
"And, fortunately... I know how to perform the process. But understand this: if you accept this path, Fiore would not only inherit part of my abilities, she would also be bound to . Forever."
Fiore lowered her gaze. Her heart wavered between fear and hope.
Arthur continued:
"Thanks to... certain entities I’ve encountered, I’ve learned to manipulate my own Saint Graph. That allows to separate a fraction of it and create a lesser copy. This copy could be implanted into her body, rging with her defective circuits and partially correcting them."
He looked at Fiore with grave seriousness.
"You would gain a very weakened version of my abilities: limited magical control, modest regeneration, perhaps even an inferior form of my Noble Phantasms. Enough to restore your legs and let you live free from a wheelchair. But the price... would be to carry this bond with for the rest of your life."
The room fell into silence. Fiore’s heart pounded like a drum in her chest. Between fear, hope, and sha, the only words she managed to whisper were:
"...I understand."
But the light in her eyes left no doubt: for the first ti in years, she truly felt hope.
---
The silence in the room was heavy, almost suffocating. Fiore’s breath was unsteady, her fingers trembling slightly upon the sheets. Arthur’s offer, that possibility of finally leaving the wheelchair behind, felt so close and yet so distant.
"A bond forever..." — she murmured, almost to herself.
Arthur remained still before her, as though unwilling to influence her decision.
"Fiore, do not be mistaken. This process is neither simple nor imdiate. To turn soone into a Demi-Servant requires ti, preparation, and perfect balance between both parties. It is long and delicate. Any mistake... and not only your body, but even your soul could be destroyed. The sa applies to —one mistake, and I’ll be sent back to the Throne of Heroes."
Fiore’s eyes widened in fear.
"You an... I could die?"
"Yes." — Arthur replied without hesitation.
"But not only that. The process could fail in worse ways. You could survive... but lose your humanity. Beco an incomplete vessel, sothing between human and concept. That is why I would never recomnd this choice—unless you are absolutely certain you truly desire it."
Chiron, who had remained silent until then, cleared his throat and spoke firmly to Fiore.
"Master, listen well: do not choose out of the temptation of an instant miracle. Choose only if you are prepared for the burden. For such a bond does not break. And if it falls, part of you will fall with it."
His words weighed heavily on her. Fiore clutched her chest, trying to steady her heartbeat.
At that mont, the door creaked open, and Astolfo burst in, brimming with his usual childish energy.
"Hey, what’s going on? I heard serious voices, and serious faces don’t suit you guys!"
Fiore flinched, but Astolfo leaned down beside her with a smile.
"Fiore, are you okay?"
"I..." — she hesitated. — "Avenger said... there might be a way for to regain my legs."
"Wow!" — Astolfo’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. — "That’s amazing, isn’t it? Then why do you look so worried?"
Arthur answered in her place:
"Because the price is high. The process is long, risky, and would require her to beco a Demi-Servant. If it fails... there will be no turning back."
Astolfo blinked, trying to process the information, then shrugged.
"Look, I don’t get all this complicated stuff, but I know this: Fiore deserves to be happy. If she wants to take the risk, I’ll support her. If she doesn’t, I’ll still support her. What matters is what her heart decides!"
Fiore blushed at the almost childlike simplicity of his words.
Arthur, however, remained cautious.
"This process will take weeks, maybe months. It is not sothing we can attempt in the middle of a war. Even if you wish it, Fiore, we can only begin once the conflict ends. Until then, you must prepare yourself, both ntally and spiritually."
Chiron nodded in agreent with Arthur’s prudence.
"He is right. And until then, you will have more than enough ti to reflect on what you truly want."
Fiore took a deep breath, trying to absorb everything. Part of her wanted to scream an imdiate "yes." The chance to walk again, to live free from the chair, was almost unbearably tempting. But Arthur’s words echoed in her mind: long, delicate, dangerous...
She closed her eyes for a mont, then opened them with a quiet but firm determination.
"I... cannot give a final answer yet. But..." — she looked at Arthur, then Chiron, and finally at Astolfo — "...I want to think about it. Carefully. And if, in the end, I accept this bond... I will be ready to bear the cost."
Arthur studied her for a long mont before giving a slight nod.
"That is the right answer, Fiore. The decision does not need to be made today. When the ti cos... you will know it yourself."
Astolfo grinned brightly, taking Fiore’s hand.
"That’s right! And in the anti, I’ll make sure you keep smiling every day, whether you’re walking or in a chair!"
Fiore couldn’t help but let out a timid laugh at his words.
---
(End of Chapter)
A/N: I know how Demi-Servants work, but I decided to make so adjustnts here and there. My intention is to make Fiore sothing like a link between Arthur and this world, allowing him to create portals and return whenever he wishes.
As for how Arthur knows how to manipulate his Saint Graph? Because I want.
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain , try to throw those pathetic power stones at . Let’s see if even your insolence can amuse a king."
Fiore -
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