Shirou and Sakura made their way along the escape route that had been carefully planned in advance.

“Big brother, your hand…” Sakura's tears were flowing freely and she couldn't hide her worry.

“Let's not talk about that now.
We'll talk about it when we get home,” Shirou replied, shaking his head.
They were still in the Matou family's sphere of influence and he didn't want to risk attracting attention by discussing his injury.
He was focused on getting them both to safety and didn't want to waste energy worrying about other things.

Shirou couldn't help but wonder about the sword that had appeared earlier, wondering if it had been the helpful Mr.
Gold who had taken action.

It seemed strange to him that the self-centered king who pursued pleasure would extend a helping hand to him.

He couldn't shake the feeling that there must be some other reason behind the king's actions.

Shirou shook his head and decided not to dwell on these thoughts.
He knew that Mr.
Gold had his own unique values and it would be crazy to judge his actions based on normal logic or the values of ordinary people.
It was best to leave it at that and not try to understand the motivations of someone who was so far outside the norm.

As long as the outcome was good, that was enough.

Although, he had lost two arms.

No.

It wasn't accurate to say that he had lost them.

His right hand was paralyzed due to an overloaded magic circuit, while his left hand was fractured and suffering from muscle spasms due to blocking Spartacus's attack.

Despite the severe pain in both of his arms, Shirou knew that this meant that he still had sensation and that his arms weren't lost.

However, after this battle, Shirou realized that even though he had merged with his Saint Graph and become a demi-Servant, he still had a chance against magicians, but going up against proper Servants would be suicide.

If it weren't for Mr.
Gold's intervention, even if he had indirectly managed to weaken Spartacus's attack, he still would have been crushed.

“The only way to survive the fourth Holy Grail War is to leave,” Shirou decided.
He knew that once they left Fuyuki City, he would have to use “Suggestion” to make his family go out and play for a year, in order to keep them safe from the troubles of 1994.

Shirou knew that he would have to sacrifice his father's job in order to keep himself and his family safe.
He knew that even in the midst of an economic recession, there would be job opportunities, but there was only one life and it was more important to protect that.
It was a difficult decision, but one that Shirou was willing to make in order to ensure their safety.

Shirou and Sakura were making their way out of the small grove of trees outside the Matou residence when, out of nowhere, a sea of flames appeared in front of them, blocking their way.

“There seems to be a problem at the Matou residence.
Could you please put the young lady down, magus?” a voice asked from within the flames.
It was Tokiomi, who emerged from the inferno like a gentleman.

Tokiomi had already left the Matou residence when he heard the explosion and received a warning from Gilgamesh, who was nearby.
He immediately turned around and drove back, arriving just in time to meet Shirou and Sakura as they were trying to escape.


Aoi stood next to the car, looking at Sakura with concern written all over her face.

“This won't do,” Shirou said as he stepped in front of Sakura, trying to protect her.
He deliberately lowered his voice, knowing that it was the only part of him that wasn't disguised.
He had done his best to change his appearance, but there were no voice changers available at the department store.

“It's not befitting of a magus to kidnap a young lady while hiding in the shadows,” Tohsaka said, feeling strange about the situation.
He knew that he wasn't dead yet, Sakura was still young and should be under the protection of the Tohsaka family, so the Clock Tower shouldn't have placed a “Sealing Designation” on her.
This led him to the conclusion that the person in front of him was a stray who had come out of nowhere.

“That's better than a father who abandons his children,” Shirou replied, intentionally leading Tohsaka to misunderstand his true identity.

“That is not up to you to say,” Tohsaka Tokiomi replied, carrying the elegance of a noble to the end.
“If you don't want to make an enemy of the Tohsaka family, please return my daughter to me,”

“Liar.”

Before Shirou could speak, Sakura muttered under her breath.

“Sakura?” Tokiomi was momentarily startled.

“You're all liars!” Sakura exclaimed, mustering up the courage to speak out.
She raised her head and looked at Tohsaka and Aoi, tears streaming down her face.
“You're not my dad, and she's not my mom.
You're all liars! My dad and mom…
my dad and mom are already gone!”

Tohsaka was momentarily stunned by Sakura's words, but he quickly recovered his neutral, elegant demeanor.
“Sakura.
It is normal for you not to understand now, but all of this is love from your parents.
You will be happy in the future because of our choices.”

Happy? Love?

Sakura couldn't comprehend how Tohsaka could speak of happiness and love in the face of the fear, terror, and despair that she had experienced in the basement.
The man and woman who had willingly sent her to that hell were no longer the loving parents of her memories.
Tears flowed freely from her eyes as she struggled to come to terms with the betrayal.

“I don't have a father.
I don't have a mother.
I am not a child of the Tohsaka family.”

Tokiomi and Aoi stood frozen in shock, as if they had been struck by lightning.

The once weak and clever, obedient and sensible child eventually returned these words to her parents who had abandoned her.
In the end, it was the parents who were abandoned by their children.

Betrayers will eventually be betrayed, mutually inflicting suffering and torment upon each other.

“It's truly a delightful play.”

Perched atop a distant tree, the king surveyed the land with a satisfied gaze, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth as his eyes sparkled with pleasure.


“It's a shame, Tokiomi of the Tohsaka family.
There's no sign of your daughter here.
You can either leave or let me send you on your way.” Shirou projected a long sword using his still-functional left arm and pointed it at Tokiomi.

Tokiomi, whose noble manners were deeply ingrained, quickly regained his composure.
He looked calmly at Shirou and said, “The child is still young and doesn't understand, but if you dare to kidnap my daughter, then you are an enemy of the Tohsaka!”

Tokiomi swung his staff and summoned a tidal wave of flames with his surging magical energy.
However, before he could unleash them, Shirou had already launched his attack.

He hurled the long sword in his hand and activated “Broken Phantasm,” causing the blade to explode with a blinding burst of light that was too intense for the human eye to withstand.

Tokiomi reflexively closed his eyes in response.
When he opened them again, the only thing he could see were the shoes growing larger and larger in his field of vision.

“Thud!” The sound of the impact echoed through the air.

Shirou stepped on Tokiomi's face and used the momentum to escape the sea of flames.

Tokiomi was filled with shame and anger.
“Damn it!” he cursed.
Even the manners of a noble were difficult to maintain in the face of such an embarrassing action.

No.

Perhaps it was because he was a noble, but the dignity within him couldn't bear such shame.

But Shirou and Sakura had already run far away, and Tokiomi didn't have the courage to use heavy force against them.
Instead, he stirred up a wave of heat and used the wind to reveal Shirou's true appearance, planning to settle the score at a later time.

“Rattle rattle”

As the cloak was thrown off, Shirou's true appearance was revealed as it should have been.

However–

What Tokiomi saw was the legendary giant from the Land of Light, the leather suit of Ultraman Seven!

Tokiomi was confused.

Shirou's all-around concealment had an effect.
He ignored Tokiomi's confusion and ran away with Sakura.

Passing by Aoi, Shirou didn't even look at her.
Only Sakura looked at her, at that woman, at the woman called mother, tears blinding her eyes.

Aoi froze, completely frozen.
The already painful heart of a mother became even more painful at that moment.

Of particular importance was the fact that Aoi saw the blood and wounds on Sakura's body.
Those wounds were not inflicted by a blade.

What happened?

What exactly happened in such a short moment?

Aoi doesn't know.
She can only wonder what happened to her daughter.
Her heart breaks even more at the thought.

Tokiomi wanted to chase after Shirou and Sakura, but at that moment, the distant voice of Matou Byakuya, filled with anger and shame, called out to him.

“Dammit! Tohsaka Tokiomi, even if you don't want to continue the family succession, what do you mean by letting your servant sneak attack us, the Matou family?” Byakuya questioned, his voice filled with anger.
The swarm of insects driven by Zouken followed behind him.

However, upon seeing Tokiomi, Byakuya realized something and his heart skipped a beat.
He quickly ordered the insects to burrow underground and hide.

But it was too late, Tokiomi had already seen everything.

As a magus, he understood.
He understood.
He was more aware of why Sakura would be so angry.

“The Matou family's magic has actually degenerated into insect magic!” Tokiomi exclaimed, filled with shame and anger.
The shoe print on his face had not yet disappeared, and his eyes were full of rage.

“Give me an explanation, Tohsaka Tokiomi!” Matou Byakuya angrily questioned.

“You are the ones who need to give me an explanation!” Tokiomi said, his anger palpable.
“If I had known that your Matou family's crest had become such an ugly, inferior, stinking form of insect magic, I would have sent Sakura to Finland long ago!”

“You–!” Byakuya was extremely angry.
He acted as the puppet head of the Matou family because he could recklessly enjoy the family's wealth, but Gilgamesh's attack had nearly killed him, and he couldn't bear it.
The deal had been mutually beneficial, but now he was filled with anger.

“Spartacus, kill him!” Byakuya shouted.

“Oh oh oh oh oh–, it's the oppressor!”

Even though he was still under the strong effect of the command seal, Spartacus was much happier this time.
He charged toward Tokiomi with cheerful laughter, a blooming smile on his face.

However, before he even reached halfway, four large shields descended from the sky, trapping him like a cage and halting his progress.

“Mongrel, this is how a mongrel should look,” said an arrogant voice.
Everyone looked up to see Gilgamesh standing atop a tree, looking down on all beings with arrogant eyes.

“Your Majesty, allow them to experience the punishment of the King of Heroes,” Tokiomi shouted, his voice filled with guilt for his deceived daughter and anger at being deceived.
Despite his emotional state, he still maintained the etiquette of a noble.
This noble demeanor had become so deeply ingrained in him that it had penetrated his bones and entered his soul.

However, in response to Tokiomi's request, Gilgamesh merely chuckled haughtily and turned away, completely ignoring him.

Tokiomi's hands shook with anger as he thought about using all of his seals to kill the Matou family and then letting the haughty king commit suicide.
But he suppressed these thoughts, knowing that he needed to fulfill the long-held wish of the Tohsaka family and his own desire to reach Akasha.

With the king having already left, Tokiomi knew he couldn't face Berserker Spartacus alone.
He grabbed Aoi and fled in the car, leaving behind only Matou Byakuya, filled with anger and frustration, and Spartacus, still trapped within the shield.

“Find it! We must find it! That is this old man's, this old man's – my eternal life!” Matou Zouken erupted in anger.

Gilgamesh stands atop the tallest tower in Fuyuki City, gazing out at the land below.
The cold moonlight bathes his angelic face.

Fervor, contemplation…
emotions that should not be present in the all-powerful King of Heroes, yet they burn brightly in his blood-red eyes.

That soul.

That mottled soul filled with debris emanating such a revolting stench.
There is no doubt that it is nothing but a mongrel soul.

But the fire that burns within it is fierce.

The fire of a mongrel, burning fiercely.

Burning with a light that has never been seen before.

And behind that light, there is a possibility, however small, that it is something he once strived for.

From wise king to tyrant.

From happily sharing everything with the people to selfishly hoarding everything for himself.

There, lies the thing he initially sought.

Just a possibility, a minuscule probability smaller than grains of sand, but it is enough.
As long as there is a possibility, it is enough.

“The entertainment of punishing thieving scum has come to an end.
However, that mottled soul, in its small and fragile body, is too weak to withstand my glory.”

Eyes slightly narrowed, Gilgamesh wears a pleased smile.

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