Fate: I Will Eventually Become the Hero of Justice

Every Heroic Spirit present represented some of the most legendary figures from human history, so it was almost a given that they recognized the dangers of infighting, especially when their side had the upper hand and the enemy was on the ropes.

And infighting presented the prime opportunity for the enemy to seize. Now that they have a significant advantage, infighting would undeniably hand their advantage over to the Red Faction on a silver platter.

Being summoned as a Lancer, Vlad was known as a wise king. He was acutely aware of this dynamic, which is why he made a point to emphasize it, sending a clear message to the Heroic Spirits.

Regardless of whether they already had this understanding, as a leader, Vlad knew that certain reminders, even the obvious ones, needed to be said.

And so, he made his point clear.

Avicebron suddenly rose from his seat, turning his gaze to Vlad who reclined on his throne. "Lancer, what is your decision regarding A-11072?"

Astolfo, hearing the mention, quickly got up as well, positioning himself to face off against Avicebron.

Vlad leisurely sipped his wine, responding with calm expression, "Caster, you should understand that it's inappropriate to bring up such matters during a celebratory feast."

"This..."

Avicebron hesitated for a moment, letting his eyes sweep over the other Servants present. He then let out a resigned sigh and settled back into his chair.

Though intellectually brilliant, his emotional intelligence wasn't particularly high. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been deceived in his life, lured under a tree, only to be strangled.

Astolfo, feeling content with how things panned out, settled back down with a grin on his face.

While Astolfo might not always be the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to logical reasoning, his emotional intelligence certainly outshined Avicebron's. He could tell that Vlad's attitude had become somewhat ambiguous compared to how it was before the war.

Shirou leisurely savored his drink, his lips curling up into a subtle smile.

He had once been a king, so he saw through things more clearly than Astolfo.

Vlad's attitude had definitely become ambiguous. It made sense because he had once been a king.

Shirou had proven himself as someone who wasn't to be overlooked by taking out Achilles.

Ambition was a human instinct. Being a king or leader was just like that. Whoever showed more value would gain more favor.

And there was no question, given his recent performance, that Shirou was more valuable than Avicebron.

It wasn't only about kings. It was a common occurrence in daily life, especially in places like schools. Think about how teachers often had a soft spot for the students with good grades.

That's probably the easiest way to picture it.

Shirou saw this very clearly.

However, there was one thing that struck his as odd.

He glanced over at Jeanne sitting beside him, touched his cheek, and asked, "Ruler, is there something on my face?"

"Ah, um... No, not at all," Jeanne quickly said, shaking her head.

Vlad was far from petty; he was a wise and magnanimous king. He even extended an invitation to Jeanne, the Ruler, to the Black faction's celebratory banquet.

Yet, for reasons he couldn't fathom, since the banquet began, Jeanne kept stealing glances at him.

Shirou checked his reflection in his wine glass, but there wasn't anything wrong on his face.

So, why was she looking at him like that?

It was truly baffling!

Deciding not to dwell on it, he rose from his seat.

As he did, every pair of eyes in the room turned to him.

He looked at Vlad and said, "I have some matters to attend to, so I'll take my leave, Lancer."

Vlad simply nodded, "You are not my subject. If you have matters to attend to, then go."

Shirou left the banquet.

And as he walked away, Jeanne's gaze landed on him again.

What kind of gaze was it?

It was profoundly complex...

But when all was said and done, there was a hint of self-conscious embarrassment in it.

...

Shirou left the court and made his way to the kitchen for some grub. From there, he descended to the castle's depths.

Down here, amongst the water tanks for homunculi creation, was Spartacus's prison.

But before he even got close to Spartacus's cage, muffled voices reached his ears.

When he finally got a visual, his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

A group of homunculi, who should've been tending to the tanks, had seemingly abandoned their duties and were now gathered around Spartacus. They sat with rapt attention, looking at him like ancient folk hanging onto every word of a wise old sage.

"What is freedom?" one of them asked, genuinely puzzled.

Spartacus replied, "Freedom is like a bird's wings, flying to the horizon, living how it wants."

"What is the horizon?" another chimed in.

Spartacus responded, "It's the thrill, the essence of being truly alive."

Another spoke up, "Then what's this 'thrill' and 'being truly alive'?"

Spartacus grinned, "Thrill is moments that hit deep. Being truly alive is to feel, to know joy and peace."

"But we're created, manufactured. Aren't those things reserved for real humans?" one of the homunculi questioned, genuinely trying to wrap their head around the idea.

Spartacus countered, "Aren't you human?"

"We're not humans. We're homunculi," another piped up, emphasizing the distinction.

Spartacus growled, "But you are human, no matter how you came to be. You look and feel like us, you know joy, pain, wonder. Those tanks are just your beginning. You carry human blood. It's the oppressors and their words that make you forget. They do you wrong."

Tears started streaming down Spartacus's face.

The homunculi looked at each other, their faces full of confusion and incomprehension.

Watching from the shadows, Shirou let out a soft laugh.

They'd really brought in a true rebel.

A rebel troublesome enough to give any king a headache.

But that wasn't his problem.

If headaches were coming, they'd be for Vlad and the Yggdmillennia Clan to deal with.

He walked out with food tray in hand.

The homunculi turned to him, their once calm faces now painted with anxiety.

Shirou smiled and said, "Don't worry, I'm not here to reprimand anyone."

He walked over to Spartacus and set the food down in front of him.

Spartacus, looking perplexed, asked, "Why feed me when I'm your captive?"

"Aren't you also a human?" Shirou's smile was warm, his eyes glinting with flame.

"Ahh, I understand now. You're not just a king, but a beacon of hope? Ah... Ah... To think such a leader exists!" Spartacus's broad face was once again wet with tears.

"We need to get back to work!" a homunculus called out.

One by one, the homunculi rose to their feet, ready to carry on with the tasks assigned to them by the Yggdmillennia clan.

Just then, one of the homunculi paused, turning to Spartacus. "Spartacus, after hearing your words, there are many things in my heart that I don't understand. After I finish my work, can I come to ask you?"

Spartacus smiled, "Of course."

"Me too!"

"I have questions too!"

"Can I also?"

The homunculi erupted in excitement.

"Any of you are welcome. I'll be here. The chains that bind your souls by the oppressors, I will break them for you," Spartacus said with a gentle smile.

"Thank you, Spartacus."

The homunculi thanked him and began to scatter, heading back to their tasks.

Shirou glanced at Spartacus and couldn't help but laugh.

This kind of behavior would surely be considered an unforgivable crime for any monarch.

No king, no matter how magnanimous, would let this slide.

Even Shirou, back in his kingly days, would feel the same way.

Had Spartacus dared to pull something like this during his reign, Shirou was sure he would've executed Spartacus on the spot.

Because this was the act of enlightening the masses.

The foundation of a feudal monarchy lay in keeping the people ignorant.

The more ignorant the people, the more stable the monarch's foundation.

Enlightening them would shake the foundation of the monarchy and threaten the king's position.

This wasn't unique to his perspective; it was a sentiment shared by monarchs across the world.

Throughout history and across all cultures, there has never been a single monarch who would have tolerated someone like Spartacus.

But now?

Well...

Times have changed, and maybe deep down, he has been itching to do the same thing.

Shirou's lips curved into a smile.