Chapter 488: Red and Black Showdown · Shakespeare's True Intentions (Patreon)

Just as Karna and Shirou observed the myriad projections, a shockwave emanated from the bottom of the garden, causing the entire place to tremble as if struck by an earthquake.

"Ugh~ This is bad——!"

Seated on the throne's steps, the Red Caster nearly dropped his laptop during his impromptu composition. Fortunately, his quick reflexes saved it just in time—breaking the laptop would be a minor issue, but losing the hard-earned manuscript of the grand battle would be devastating to him.

Every creator understands the importance of inspiration. At certain moments, witnessing certain scenes, the inspired and impassioned words that come forth are irreplaceable. Even a literary giant like Shakespeare, who stands at the pinnacle of human literary history, is no exception.

Carefully, he glanced at the laptop screen and, seeing the document intact, sighed with relief.

"Thank goodness... What was that just now?"

The last part of his sentence was directed at Semiramis, the Red Assassin, who sat regally upon the throne.

"It was the aftermath of Berserker's attack. Has it reached here already? It seems he’s nearing his limit."

No matter how high the rank of a Noble Phantasm, it cannot sustain endless regeneration and growth. Each of Spartacus's recoveries accumulates pain, and even he, who takes pleasure in suffering, has reached his threshold after enduring so many attacks.

The Empress of Assyria commanded the Hanging Gardens to ascend. If that "weapon" targeted the garden, it would be no joke. His true target should be the Millennia Fortress.

"But—couldn't the Holy Grail be damaged?"

"Rest assured. The Greater Grail is located underground in the castle; it isn't something mere rubble can destroy. As long as Berserker doesn't actively attack it, there should be no issue. However, he no longer retains that level of rationality. Now then, with things progressing this far, I need to confirm something with you."

"Ah, I also have something I want to clarify. Please, you go first, Your Imperial Majesty."

"——What exactly are you scheming?"

Though Semiramis maintained her charming smile, her eyes bore a cold, penetrating intensity as she stared at Caster, like a venomous snake eyeing its prey.

In response, Shakespeare showed no sign of sweating or nervousness. Instead, he simply offered a puzzled expression, as if saying—is this the appropriate place to discuss it? The Red Lancer is still here.

This courage surprised Semiramis.

"Do not worry; our conversation is only audible to you and me."

As she commanded the garden to ascend, she also activated a special magic. Though it appeared the four were in the same room, they were actually in two separate spaces.

"I see."

Shakespeare lowered his head again, his fingers flying across the keyboard. Though he had only had the laptop for a little over ten hours, he was already adept at using it for writing, showcasing his talent in this area.

"It's nothing. As I mentioned before, I am merely following and observing our Master... Father Shirou, to document his story."

"A chronicler, are you?"

"Exactly."

"Indeed, our Master's wish upon the Holy Grail is grand and ethereal, yet as fragile as glasswork, fraught with countless trials and obstacles. Whether he can overcome these trials is an unknown. However—if our Master were to surmount all these trials and ultimately reach 'that';... the role you play would cease to exist in this world."

Upon hearing Semiramis's words, Shakespeare raised a finger and wagged it from side to side.

"You've got two things wrong. First, the most important part of a story isn't the ending, but the journey to reach that ending. Even if the ending is predetermined, as long as the journey is captivating, it's still a superb story. That's what we writers strive for our whole lives."

"Second, what I’m watching and recording is not the Master's wish, but the Master himself. Indeed, that wish is grand, and everything that happens in pursuit of it makes for an excellent story, which is immensely appealing to me. But compared to the myriad mysteries hidden within the Master, the wish itself is insignificant."

"You've noticed it too, haven't you, Empress of Assyria? Our Master's identity isn't as simple as it appears. Even though the surface is already quite extraordinary, it's only a ripple on the ocean, beneath which lies a fearsome, unfathomable undercurrent."

"I have a feeling that while the Master speaks of saving humanity and strives for it, deep down, he doesn't truly want this wish to come true. This contradiction has led him to miss many opportunities to weaken the Black camp, intentionally or not. What does the Master want?——That's the question I want to ask you. You've spent more time with him; can you give me any clues?"

"Hmm..." Semiramis hesitated for a long moment before finally replying, "I don't know either."

Of course, she knew what Shakespeare was talking about. Shirou didn't want to achieve that wish but was compelled to pursue it for some reason. She also knew that the name Shirou Kotomine was fake, and even the hidden identity of Amakusa Shirou was problematic.

But the more she knew, the more questions she had. The young man who always wore a gentle smile, had a bit of a childish streak, and occasionally acted foolishly was like a treasure chest—you never knew what you’d find inside.

She had made many guesses, only to quickly overturn them herself. Eventually, even theories about visitors from other worlds and aliens came to mind, which she found absurd.

Shakespeare, with his head bowed, did not see Semiramis's expression and was not disappointed by her response. He simply continued speaking with passion: "Look, another mystery. Delving into these mysteries is my pursuit, and this is what makes the story fascinating. Who knows, I might write a masterpiece the likes of which has never been seen before. What could be more exciting than that? Ah, my brain is trembling."

"Is that so? That does make sense."

Semiramis rubbed her temples and composed herself.

"Then how do you explain letting Berserker go earlier?"

This issue was a thorn in Semiramis's side. The playwright before her would do anything for a gripping narrative. If the Master's plan went too smoothly, he might create some turmoil himself to stir things up.

"You mean that? It's not worth making a fuss over. Even the Master rejects it deep down; I was merely following his heart. You might not know, but I’ve spent some time in the court, so I have a bit of a knack for reading people."

"Oh? Then can you guess what I'm thinking now?"

Semiramis turned her palm over, the nails flashing with a cold light.

"Warning me not to do something like that again, or you'll kill me."

Shakespeare's expression remained unchanged. Such was the spirit of a Heroic Spirit—no weapons, no magic, yet still exuding such poise.

"Don't worry, I won't do it again. Things have progressed to this point; there will be others to interfere even if I don't."

"Who do you think it will be?"

"Who else? It’s her, lost and bewildered in her ignorance."

"Ruler, right? Indeed, the privileges she holds are quite a threat, but aren't we already working on countermeasures?"

"No, no. While her privileges are indeed threatening, what’s truly fearsome is her nature."

"What, do you know her?"

"A saintly Heroic Spirit brandishing the holy banner—there aren’t many like that in the world. She is the revered enemy of my homeland. The tragic, country girl who heeded the voice of God and walked towards ruin—Saint Jeanne d'Arc."

"Oh, so she’s an enemy of your country."

Semiramis laughed. As she said, Jeanne d'Arc, as France's savior, had raised the banner of rebellion and routed the English army. Although she was eventually captured through betrayal, the enmity ran deep. At the time, English literature depicted her as an enemy, condemning her in various ways.

"No, no, there's no enmity left now. England and France are irrelevant. But if she comes to interfere, we’ll have to ruthlessly crush her."

"Will you do it?"

"Me? How could that be possible? I'll leave those matters to you, Your Imperial Majesty."

Shakespeare laughed loudly, while Semiramis sighed, saying, "I knew you would say that."

Then, she turned her gaze to the largest projection in the center of the throne room.

"What do you plan to do?"