[Why did you do this, Sakatsuki?] [Avicebron, contacting me via telepathy—what is it?] [...Can you not hear the fury in my words? I am condemning you—condemning you for leading Adam to brilliance only to mercilessly cast him into hell!] [I spared his life and sent him into the Hanging Gardens, did I not?] [But only after you personally destroyed him!] [With your mastery over golems, reviving Adam while evading the Empress’s gaze would be child’s play. Utilizing the mysteries of the Hanging Gardens, the giant’s second appearance would surely astonish everyone.] [Hah, refusing with silence? No matter. Avicebron, if you wish to realize your ideal, this is the only path left to you. After all, the chains binding you now rest in my hands—that’s all.] The telepathic link was severed by the other party. Avicebron sat silently in his room, his hands clenching in rage before helplessly loosening again. Sakatsuki was right—this was his only remaining choice. Any superfluous actions, and that young man might not kill him, but would surely use a Command Spell to strip him of autonomy. —It was just like the afflictions that had plagued him, the suffering of his people, and all those countless times he had been forced into powerlessness. He should have been accustomed to it. He should have grown indifferent to such torment... Yet even so, after touching the edges of his dream, Avicebron had lost that caution and composure. He could have endured the darkness—but the heavens had granted him a sliver of light, only to cruelly snatch it away. What of the next time? And the time after that? And the time after that? Would his Noble Phantasm, his dream, be trampled upon once more, leaving him to gather Adam’s shattered remains and beg for the "heavens’" mercy again? No. Impossible. Absolutely impossible! Those who destroy my dream, who treat it as worthless—they must be punished! With a burning defiance like fire in his heart, Avicebron knelt on the ground, using intricate magecraft to conceal the fragments of the giant Adam. Beneath his golden mask, his face twisted in fury, yet his spellcasting hands remained unnervingly steady. Until he witnessed his enemies’ suffering, he would not allow himself to fall. At this moment, Sakatsuki remained unaware of the seething wrath Avicebron harbored toward him over the matter of Adam. Having ended the telepathic exchange, he opened his eyes just as the Black Faction’s assembly entered its next phase. Chiron had finished recounting the events in the garden. Aside from the Servants who had witnessed the scene firsthand, the others wore expressions of shock. Breaking this silence would likely take considerable time. Though the Fortress of Millennia was half-collapsed, it still had ample rooms. The gathering was held in the clan’s meeting hall. Despite the chairs having been toppled by the earlier impact and the chandelier shattered on the floor, Fiore, with Sakatsuki’s help, had swiftly restored them. "The other Ruler... is Amakusa Shirou Tokisada, then." Fiore barely managed to squeeze out a whisper. Her voice was naturally delicate, and what she’d just uttered was almost inaudible. Yet perhaps because the room had fallen completely silent, her words reached every ear present with perfect clarity. "Amakusa Shirou... he’s a saint from the Far East, isn’t he? Archer, could you explain? I’m not very familiar with this." Responding to Fiore’s request, Chiron began: "Amakusa Shirou Tokisada was a boy who masterminded a large-scale rebellion in a region called Shimabara approximately five hundred years ago." "Yes. After all, he was only seventeen years old when he died." Hearing this age, the Masters gasped in surprise—none had expected a Heroic Spirit so young. The centaur sage briefly recounted Amakusa Shirou Tokisada’s history to the group. He hadn’t achieved any glorious military feats. Though it was called a large-scale rebellion, Japan at that time had already been embroiled in an era where multiple warlords fought fiercely for supremacy. Amakusa Shirou was born just after those turbulent wars had finally settled and Japan had been unified into a single nation. Excessively heavy annual tributes, poor harvests due to bad weather, and the persecution of religious believers whose faith wasn’t recognized in Japan—it was at this worst possible moment, when all these issues converged, that the flames of rebellion were ignited. The Shimabara Rebellion was among the largest peasant uprisings in the island nation’s history. The total number of participants reached thirty-seven thousand, with approximately twenty thousand being non-combatants. "And leading them was Amakusa Shirou Tokisada, hailed as a messiah." Originally just an ordinary sixteen-year-old boy, he had performed numerous miracles since birth—restoring sight to a blind girl, walking on water. He believed in God and gradually expanded his religious influence. Googlᴇ search 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵✦𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖✦𝙣𝙚𝙩 When multiple simultaneous rebellions across the region merged into one, it was only natural for Amakusa to be elevated as their leader. For they worshipped that boy as if he were divine. "However, their advance soon stalled." Having fortified themselves in Shimabara Castle, they ultimately fell due to food shortages. All thirty-seven thousand rebels—save for a single traitor—were executed or massacred. Neither hero nor saint. Though he possessed the power to perform miracles, in the end he couldn’t save even one person, dying with nothing but regrets. "...Judging solely from this history, he doesn’t seem like a particularly fearsome Servant." "That’s true. In terms of pure strength, he likely falls far short compared to us heroes... Which is precisely why I find him terrifying." Chiron couldn’t help recalling how Amakusa had faced all the Servants in the chapel without hesitation, revealing his true identity. In that situation—where the slightest misstep would have turned every Servant against him—he hadn’t shown the faintest hesitation, maintaining a smile throughout. That was pressure beyond belief. What kind of power did that boy possess that allowed him to stand so unwaveringly straight? "Indeed, I too... find him utterly terrifying. It’s not his power or skills, but the sheer intensity of his conviction that inspires dread." Jeanne d’Arc couldn’t help recalling her conversation with Amakusa after the other Servants had departed. It wasn’t mere resilience—it was like a black hole of ultimate density and mass. A monster whose conviction alone could swallow all of humanity and Heroic Spirits alike. He wasn’t insane. Mere madness could never forge such unshakable faith. Amakusa Shirou Tokisada—what had he witnessed on that battlefield where thirty-seven thousand followers who worshipped him as a god were slaughtered before his eyes? What had he felt? What vow had he sworn? Neither Jeanne d’Arc, who had lived through the horrors of war, nor Astolfo, nor even Chiron from the age of myth where heroes flourished, could answer that question. "...Let’s set that aside for now. The crux lies in his scheme." The informed exchanged glances and voiced Amakusa’s ambition in unison: "Salvation? How dare he spout such foolish—" Seeing Gordes’ scornful sneer, Mordred sighed. "The fool here is you, fatso. The Holy Grail is precisely the thing that could make such an absurd wish come true." Fiore placated the indignant Gordes while countering: "But Uncle isn’t entirely wrong. That Greater Grail is, fundamentally, just a mass of magical energy. It can indeed skip all theories and processes to deliver results. But conversely, it requires an existing process to omit for the wish to manifest." "So you mean even if he wished for ’human salvation,’ it’d be meaningless?" Sieg grasped the implication. "Without any means in the wisher’s mind, it’d stop there. With no defined direction, the wish wouldn’t reach anywhere." The Grail couldn’t process such vague concepts, especially broad ones like ’saving humanity.’ Just as the group relaxed slightly, Sakatsuki abruptly asked: "Then what if Amakusa knows a method? Regardless of whether it’s true salvation." Jeanne gasped at the unexpected question. "In that case... I believe it would be enacted." "Amakusa knows a way to save humanity?" "No, not exactly." Chiron’s brow furrowed as he recognized the gravity. "The issue is—what if that method itself becomes humanity’s calamity...?" "To put it simply," Reika interjected, "if someone wished to become the world’s greatest magi by slaughtering all other magi, the Grail would fulfill that too?" "Theoretically, yes." Jeanne’s confirmation plunged them into silence, until Sieg suddenly remembered something. "Ruler, regarding the reason for your summoning—" Indeed. The condition for a Ruler’s summoning was when the Holy Grail War might plunge the world into crisis. Amakusa had stolen the Greater Grail, harboring the wish to bring salvation to all humanity—thus his method of salvation would likely become the crisis threatening the world. "...That’s probably the case." Hearing this, Jeanne d’Arc averted her gaze somewhat guiltily, stealing glances at Sakatsuki who was feigning sleep with closed eyes. In truth, Amakusa’s abnormality was only discovered after boarding the Hanging Gardens. Before that, her Revelation had merely indicated that ’this young man before her was crucial.’ Yet the meaning behind this Revelation still eluded the saintly maiden. "Then, to prevent this from happening, let’s consider what we should do next." —Thus, the Black Faction members rallied their spirits and began discussing their next moves. Though Karna, Achilles, and Atlanta had refused assistance, the Red Faction’s defensive capabilities had already suffered a fatal blow with their loss, greatly facilitating the Black Faction’s operations. Eventually, they concluded they must find some means of aerial travel—whether by plane or otherwise—to pursue that floating garden. Specific details would be discussed later, as now everyone—whether it was Fiore representing Yggdmillennia, the freelance mercenary Kairi Sisigou, or the homunculus girl Sieg—needed rest to wash away the exhaustion of the night and prepare for the troubles ahead. Even Sakatsuki, who had profited handsomely from this battle, needed to settle matters with the Blue Faction before the final confrontation—his current forces remained insufficient to overcome both Red and Black factions. And so, the group trudged wearily back to their rooms, drawing curtains against the artificial night where neither conflict nor clamor existed, sinking into deep slumber.