Chapter 445: [445] In Sighișoara
Lavish churches, ancient wooden staircases, secluded towers and well-preserved medieval castles—thick walls protected the colorful cottages.
Strolling along cobblestone streets, gentlemen in suits and ladies in elegant dresses moved freely, noblewomen in Victorian hats paused before shop windows, while rich British accents drifted from telephone booths. Maple leaves fell like rain, dyeing the puddles on the ground crimson.
Lost in thought in an underground café beneath a 13th-century clock tower, or ascending the spiraling wooden stairs to admire the sunset from the black-and-white tower, gazing at the distant rooftops edged in gold—for Sakatsuki and Reika, this was the perfect afternoon to touch history and appreciate beauty.
For Artoria and Jack, it was a precious moment to revisit the past and enjoy their Masters’ company.
Yet, happy times were always fleeting. As the sunlight, stored away for too long, gradually deepened into twilight, the residents of Sighișoara had already returned home. Even without exposure to the arcane, instinct told them the night did not belong to them.
"Mommy, it’s almost night," Jack chirped like a little bird, spreading her arms as she ran down the street before suddenly turning to look at Reika. "Is it time to start killing?"
The few remaining pedestrians on the street froze in disbelief at the child’s innocent yet cruel words, casting uneasy glances at the trio behind Jack before lowering their heads and quickening their steps.
Reika and Artoria were momentarily stunned, while Sakatsuki remained unfazed. Smiling, he stepped forward and pinched the girl’s cheek.
"Not tonight. Tonight is about Artoria meeting her child, just like you and Mommy Reika."
Just as hostility had marked the beginning of Jack and Reika’s relationship—where a wrong answer might have led to Reika’s stomach being carved open—Mordred, too, would likely raise her sword against the father-king she adored without hesitation.
But Sakatsuki believed that, just like Reika and Jack, Artoria and Mordred would eventually reconcile and become the closest of kin.
After all, weren’t the Knights of the Round Table all hopelessly devoted to their king?
"Mhm." Jack didn’t understand Sakatsuki’s words, but that didn’t stop her from responding to his touch. The girl nuzzled affectionately against his palm, clinging with the particular attachment of the abandoned.
Watching Jack’s obvious abnormality, Artoria hesitated before finally speaking up. "Lord Sakatsuki, what about Jack’s current condition? Can it be improved?"
"Miss Artoria, is there something wrong with Jack?" Reika asked in surprise. Sakatsuki paused briefly, then replied after a moment of thought:
"I can only say it’s very difficult. The effort and reward are completely disproportionate. After all, the concept of ’an amalgamation of vengeful spirits’ is intrinsic to Jack’s very being. Trying to alter that would be akin to challenging the entire Throne of Heroes, the entire boundary of the Record."
Reika fell silent. Clearly, she couldn’t pretend not to notice the differences between Jack and a normal child, not after living with her day and night.
But she did not lose heart. Together with Artoria, she turned hopeful eyes toward Sakatsuki.
This black-robed young man, the assassin who had repeatedly brought miracles—this time, he would surely be able to save this child as well—
"Jack the Ripper’s condition is unique. Different classes will trigger different phenomena, so I will do everything in my power to save her."
Withdrawing his hand and standing up, Sakatsuki calmly spoke his next words:
"But if she cannot be saved, then be prepared to make full use of her before discarding her."
The moment these words left his lips, Reika and Artoria froze as if struck by lightning, while little Jack, still innocent, looked up in confusion, not understanding why the atmosphere between her mothers had turned so tense.
Unaware of the sudden shift in mood, Sakatsuki continued following his train of thought. "Jack the Ripper’s existence is contradictory—she is both a vengeful spirit and an innocent child. Once the malice within her is unleashed, it will inevitably spread this contradiction to anyone she touches."
"And as I said, the Red Archer, Atalanta, wishes to save all the children in the world. Meanwhile, the Ruler of this Holy Grail War, Jeanne d’Arc, is a saint whose duty is to purge vengeful spirits. In other words, if we gather Atalanta and Jeanne together and then trigger Jack’s release, we can naturally pit them against each other—"
Before Sakatsuki could finish, Artoria tore off her mask, stepped forward, and seized him by the collar.
With a forceful pull, she dragged the unprepared young man close, and Sakatsuki could clearly see the lingering shock in her eyes—along with a deep, unshakable disappointment.
"I warn you, Sakatsuki," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "I don’t want to hear such words from you again."
Artoria was clearly furious. She took a deep breath, her flat chest rising and falling as she struggled to regain her composure. After a moment, she continued, her voice steadier but no less severe:
"If you were the person I knew—the real you—you would never have allowed such thoughts to even cross your mind. Clearly, Sakatsuki, there is something fundamentally different about you now. It even reminds me of that detestable Emiya Kiritsugu—"
The setting sun burned like fire, and in Sakatsuki’s eyes, the golden hair of the Knight King shone brilliantly, as dazzling as her saintly blue eyes—so bright he could hardly bear to look at her.
"If there is a next time, Master," she said coldly, "I will draw my sword against you."
With that warning, Artoria put her mask back on and walked away without another glance.
The deeper the love, the harsher the rebuke.
If she stayed any longer, she feared that by nightfall, she might not be able to stop herself from personally executing the young man—the Round Table Knight she had once acknowledged with her own words.
Execution—judgment—Ruler.
[Remember, Artoria, I modified your Saint Graph into that of a Ruler—a Ruler summoned by ’one person,’ belonging to only one person~~]
Like a sudden blow to the head, Artoria stopped mid-stride, staring blankly at the sunset-stained sky. For a fleeting moment, she could almost see a mischievous incubus smirking at her.
If Merlin’s earlier words had been cryptic, now that she had fully recognized Sakatsuki’s abnormality, her Instinct had already revealed to her the true meaning of becoming a Ruler.
"Excalibur, Rhongomyniad, Avalon, and the enhanced Invisible Air..."
Counting the Noble Phantasms at her disposal, the King of Knights, who had taken the field in her strongest state, felt no pride—only a bitter twist of her lips.
Ah, Merlin, I think I understand now—
To have even a chance at defeating Lord Sakatsuki, I must resort to such thorough preparations.
————
The ahoge left in a huff, and Reika Rikudou, unable to ignore Sakatsuki’s words, also departed with little Jack, leaving the group.
After all, tonight only required Artoria and Mordred to make contact; there was no need to gather all the forces of the Blue Faction.
As for Sakatsuki, left alone, he felt neither loss nor regret. Just as Artoria had said, an Assassin who took war seriously was merely a machine acting for a purpose.
Emotions—such irrelevant variables—held no meaning for Sakatsuki (Assassin). As long as Artoria and Reika remained part of the Black Faction and followed his commands, he would take no further action.
Yet—Artoria’s disappointed gaze still flickered in his mind from time to time.
"Tch, troublesome Assassin... No, perhaps the blame lies with the original this time?"
Wandering the streets alone, the young man who had reverted to his original form also looked up at the sunset sinking behind the mountains, lost in thought.
Nothing in particular—just that this Assassin suddenly wondered:
’What would the original think of tonight’s events?’
With this in mind, the young man closed his eyes and, guided by that enigmatic contract, sent all his memories thus far across the boundaries of time and space—
Planet, universe, spacetime, a new world.
On a clear, chilly afternoon filled with the sound of an organ, a white-haired, golden-eyed young man was enjoying the beauty’s performance in the church when his expression suddenly froze.
"What’s wrong?" Caren, her face impassive, noticed the young man’s odd state and stopped playing, turning to him. Sakatsuki merely shook his head silently, stood, and returned to his room.
"My Assassin self... actually drained all his magical energy just to establish a connection? Did something happen?"
The dragon’s heart pulsed, and vast reserves of magical energy surged through his body. Sakatsuki muttered in confusion as he accepted the ’compressed file’ of memories.
Then, the memories of the Assassin exploded in Sakatsuki’s mind, replaying rapidly.
As he watched, his expression grew increasingly grave.
"This isn’t good..."
Creak—the door opened without permission, and a small figure in a red dress entered, climbing onto the bed with practiced ease before settling into the young man’s warm embrace.
"What art thou doing?"
Faced with the little dragon’s silent invitation to "play," Sakatsuki didn’t oblige. Instead, he absently tapped his knee, then after a long pause, smiled wryly at the one who was, in a sense, the root cause of it all—Draco.
"You really never give me a moment’s peace."
"Me?" Draco pointed at herself guiltily, wondering if Sakatsuki had found out about her scaring Kuro and Illya the night before.
With a gentle yet firm grip, the little girl in the red dress was seized by Sakatsuki, who roughly tousled her hair. "It’s about ’Endless Sorrow’... the Beast’s blessing. I never expected it to twist my personality like that."
"The Assassin version of you from another world?" Draco finally caught on. She looked up at Sakatsuki’s troubled expression and couldn’t help but flash a mischievous grin.
"Didn’t I say it before? Trying to capture me comes with a price... Hey!"
Amidst an indignant yelp, Draco shielded her delicate backside, her face flushing red with anger before she promptly sank her teeth into Sakatsuki’s arm.
"Stop fooling around." Though it was his arm that got bitten, Sakatsuki instinctively shielded his chest before catching himself and letting go. Without batting an eye, he pinched the little red dragon’s cheek. "Don’t cause any trouble for me during this time. I need to focus my mana on maintaining the connection."
Recalling the plan the Assassin had already set in motion—one that claimed to seize the Holy Grail but was actually meant to destroy the world—Sakatsuki couldn’t help but sigh.
"Anyway, you’re not going anywhere. Stay right here with me and keep an eye on whatever that guy’s up to."
"Fine—" Draco dragged out her reply, immediately seeing through Sakatsuki’s true intentions.
’Supervision, my tail. He just wants to watch the show, doesn’t he?’
After all, even if it were his original self, there was no way to intervene across time and space once that Assassin refused.
Still... Sakatsuki, blessed by her, huh?
A smirk curled on Draco’s lips as her scaled tail quietly coiled around the young man’s arm. Pressed close against him, she settled in to observe the story unfolding across time and space—the tale of the Assassin.