Upon reaching a tacit understanding with Emiya Kiritsugu, the tense atmosphere in the study finally softened. Steve offered a polite smile and sincerely declined Irisviel's invitation to stay for dinner. He sensed not only her genuine warmth but also a subtle anxiety about the secrets exchanged with her husband.
But tonight, there was another crucial person Steve needed to contact. Bidding farewell to the cheerful mansion, he slipped once more into the quiet night of the mountain city. Instead of heading for the station, he followed a familiar route toward a different residence.
This was a classic, traditional Japanese house bordered by tall walls and a simple wooden gate—the very home of Emiya Shirou from the original Fate/Stay Night manga.
Ten years ago, during the Fourth Holy Grail War, it had served as base for Kiritsugu. After the war, Irisviel, starting anew, hoped her daughter could grow up in a modern and lively environment, and so the Emiya family eventually moved out.
This house, witness to so many battles and schemes, became vacated—but never forgotten. Artoria, also having chosen to live on in this age as a Servant, still lingered here. Amid glimpses of Kiritsugu and Illya's loving family life and Illya's heartwarming growth, Saber could never quite shake the awkward, unwanted feeling of being a outsider. Eventually, she made up her mind to live alone in this old house which, with its spaciousness and a dojo perfect for sword practice, proved the ideal place for her.
Standing before the door, Steve sensed the unmistakable presence of a gentle, familiar magical energy swirling inside. Forgoing the doorbell, he simply knocked lightly.
After a short moment, the door opened. Artoria appeared, dressed simply in a white cotton T-shirt and blue jeans, her signature golden hair tied back. Seeing Steve, her emerald eyes widened in momentary surprise, then settled to their usual calm indifference reserved for acquaintances.
"Steve?"
"Good evening, Saber."
"You haven't eaten, have you? How about grabbing dinner together? There's something I'd like to discuss," Steve offered cheerfully.
The moment she heard eat, a spark lit up in the Knight King's eyes. Without hesitation, she nodded. "Understood. Please wait a moment while I change."
A few minutes later, Artoria reappeared at the door, this time in a blue dress. The two walked side by side toward the city's new district. The cool night breeze swayed her long skirt as they strolled in silence.
Before long, they reached their destination: the brightly lit, family-friendly buffet restaurant, RoyalHost.
After being seated by a courteous waiter, Steve simply said, "Eat as much as you want. My treat."
Without further prompting, Artoria bolted to the dazzling buffet table with all the energy of blue lightning.
Steve sat back at the table with a cup of tea, watching her with open amusement.
The legendary Knight King began her sweep of the buffet, combining efficiency with grace. Her first target was the meat section—a hefty cut of grilled steak, aromatic German sausages, deep-fried golden chicken nuggets, all neatly stacked into the first layer of her meal. Next, the seafood: fresh salmon sashimi, sweet shrimp, grilled oysters drizzled with lemon for the second layer. Then tempura, pasta, pizza, fried rice… one by one, a mountain of high-calorie delicacies formed on her plate.
By the time she was finished, her plate resembled a small mountain. As the finishing touch atop this peak, she adorned it with several dainty desserts.
Returning to her seat with a trophy that nearly hid her face, Artoria attracted incredulous stares from the surrounding tables.
Steve simply smiled and motioned for her to begin. Artoria clasped her hands and whispered, "I'll start," before commencing her blissful feast.
She ate with perfect manners, maintaining dignity even before her mountain of food; every cut precise, every bite elegant—never a displeasing sound. Yet she ate astoundingly fast. The food on her plate vanished before Steve's eyes, as if swallowed by an invisible vortex.
Watching her, Steve mused about how, even after ten years, the Knight King had changed little—still a petite, earnest, lovely maiden. To claim he'd never harbored feelings for her after all they'd been through would've been self-deception. After all, who could resist a gallant, blue-eyed, blonde female knight?
But Steve also thoroughly understood his own preferences. He was firmly anchored in a certain category. Young girls like Sion and Caren, with their saintly, all-encompassing aura of motherliness despite their youthful appearance, struck a chord deep in his heart.
Artoria before him, though she looked young—her soul forever noble, brimming with chivalry and kingly spirit.
Reliable ally? Absolutely.
Admirable ruler? Of course.
But mature was the last word he'd use to describe her.
Thus, flights of fantasy were always dispelled by rational analysis.
"Um…" Artoria gulped down a huge mouthful of fried rice, happiness glowing on her face; her emerald eyes crinkled like crescent moons. Seeing her so content, Steve sensed the timing was right.
He cleared his throat and said, "Saber, there's something I wanted to ask you."
"Hm? What is it?" She answered around a mouthful of food, her gaze turning to Steve. Some of the relaxed dining atmosphere faded, the seriousness of the knight's spirit surfacing.
"In three days, there might be an important battle. I may need your help," he said quietly.
Artoria stopped, set down her knife and fork. Instead of replying immediately, she swallowed her food, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and fixed Steve with her emerald gaze, weighing his words carefully. Then, she nodded solemnly. "Very well. Call upon me any time."
Her answer was clear and unwavering, without hesitation or a single follow-up question.
This, in turn, piqued Steve's curiosity.
"Don't you want to know what kind of battle? Or who the enemy will be?"
Artoria, eating her strawberry cake in delicate bites, softened her expression a touch. She looked up and answered calmly, "There's no need."
"I trust you, Steve. You're not the sort to stir up trouble for fame or petty gain."
"Ten years ago, you ended that meaningless war in the most peaceful way possible, saving everyone."
"If you deem it necessary to draw your sword, then the coming enemy must be a real threat—one that, left alone, would bring disaster."
"As a knight, I have no reason to refuse such a battle."
Her words were candid and sincere, expressing unwavering trust built over ten years.
Hearing this, warmth spread through Steve's heart—the comfort of being understood and trusted with his plans and character.
He couldn't help but laugh and nod. "Exactly. It's settled, then."
Having finished the talk, Artoria returned her full focus to the battle with the buffet. Plate after plate, she ate until finally satisfied, placing her utensils down—signaling full while a mountain of empty dishes rose before her.
The restaurant manager and several waiters watched from a distance, their professional smiles betraying a sheen of cold sweat and twitching lips.
Steve paid the bill calmly, then left, accompanied by a content, round-bellied Artoria under the complex mix of awe and relief in the staff's gazes.
At a nighttime crossroads, the two bid each other goodnight—off on entirely separate paths: one returning to a quiet dojo, the other to an apartment in the new city center.
…
Bonus chapter at 100 PS