C486

After the sound of the hauntingly sweet yet sinister female voice stopped, the black vup vibrated, emitting a buzzing sound. Then, after a few crackling sounds, it looked as though it was covered in spiderweb cracks. With a crisp snap, it fell apart, disappearing from Shirou's hand as if it had been an illusion.

It felt like the relic had been a figment of their imagination all along. Yet, everyone present was certain it had been real, resting in Shirou's hand just a moment ago. Then there was that voice - eerily sweet and gentle, like a soft stream, yet it chilled their bones.

It felt like facing the epitome of horror. More chilling than any demon. Darker than the very concept of "evil". It seemed like the origin of all wickedness.

"Uh... did anyone else hear that?" Emiya asked, his face glistening with nervous sweat.

Shirou remained silent.

That female voice wasn't just eerie; it gave him pressure and an odd sensation. It reminded him of that overwhelming feeling from nine years ago, like being dropped into the 'Root.' That very same sensation... And this voice, it came from that black cup...

"It seems that Pandora didn't tell us everything," he remarked.

Gurgle, gurgle.

There was an odd, bubbling sound.

All eyes turned toward the sound, and their collective gaze widened as they landed on Shirou's feet.

"My king—run!" Artoria yelled.

"What?" He looked down, startled.

In an instant, a roaring gush of black mud shot up from the ground, pulling him in.

"My king!"

Artoria's eyes brimmed with pain.

The battle was over, yet he had been consumed by that black tide. She couldn't bear the thought. He wasn't just some Heroic Spirit; he was alive, flesh and blood. Did this mean he was... gone? Guilt weighed heavily on her, making the loss even harder to endure.

The king she so deeply admired was swallowed by the mud right in front of her. The sensation of powerlessness consumed her. How could she, a knight, let this happen? It felt like the ultimate failure.

"Artie, what are you doing?" a voice questioned.

She knew that voice too well, how could she not? It belonged to the one she looked up to.

Her head snapped up, and there he was, standing tall and unharmed.

She wanted to run over and hug him, but she caught herself just in time.

Her feelings were genuine, her self-control immense. More than 1,500 years ago, she would never have considered using Morgan's potion if it weren't for the scheme of the Crimson Moon.

Gilgamesh glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "Fujimaru Shirou, did you just..."

"Yeah," he nodded, wiping his mouth and smiling. "I ate it."

While Scathach managed to obliterate the abomination, the monstrosity birthed from the black cup wasn't entirely gone. A residual blob of mud made a last-ditch effort to take over his body, but instead, it ended up being consumed by him.

Shirou moved his hand, seemingly wanting to comfort Artoria by patting her head. But he hesitated and gave a reassuring pat on her shoulder instead.

Gilgamesh let out a laugh. "No victory is complete without a feast."

He brought out a jug of exquisite wine from his Gate of Babylon and set it on the ground. Sitting down cross-legged, he went on, "I have respect for those who walk with pride. Thus, few have gained my approval, and even fewer kings have earned my respect. Whether it's the Eternal King or King Solomon, they both have, in some ways, my acknowledgment."

"It's settled then," announced Gilgamesh. "In the Fourth Holy Grail War, the Conqueror King held a banquet for three kings. Now, I'll do the same, inviting you, Solomon, and the Eternal King. Of course, others are welcome to join as well."

Shirou looked a bit surprised. "Why the sudden generosity?"

Gilgamesh scoffed. "A true victory's shine is best when shared with fellow warriors. That's a king's unwritten rule. I'm not being stingy. I just can't stand thieves who steal my treasures."

With that, he took out a golden cup and poured wine into it.

His gaze swept over the assembled Heroic Spirits as he declared, "Savor it, heroes from all times. I'll pour the wine in honor of our shared victory! Whether you're a child of a god or a faker, you'll taste the same wine!"

Emiya raised an eyebrow. "Me too?"

"Yes, you faker, you've played your part. Drink up, you've earned it!"

Karna, holding a cup of wine, spoke up quietly, "So, we're included too."

Gilgamesh chose to ignore the comment, directing his gaze first to Shirou, who stood next to Artoria, and then to Solomon. With an eyebrow raised, he asked, "I've extended my invitation. Are you going to turn me down?"

"That thing may be gone, but there are still remnants lurking around the Temple of Time."

"You doubt your soldiers, Eternal King?" Gilgamesh asked, an eyebrow raised.

Shirou shook his head, "It's not that. It's just... while they're out there fighting, I'm here, at a feast. It just feels..."

Gilgamesh cut him off, "These are the responsibilities and privileges of kingship. You of all people should know that, Eternal King."

Letting out a sigh, Shirou nodded and settled into a seat.

Solomon watched the exchange, and after a moment, rose from his throne to join the banquet.

Gilgamesh shifted his gaze to Artoria. "King of Knights," he began, "your feats of defeating the Crimson Moon and slaying Attila have already cemented your place among the legendary human kings. But with the Eternal King here, would you still lay claim to the title?"

She met his gaze and replied, "In Camelot, there is but one king we acknowledge, and that is the one we pledge our loyalty to."

Gilgamesh nodded in acknowledgment. He then turned his attention to Shirou. "During the Fourth Holy Grail War, the Conqueror King hosted a banquet on the King of Knights' land. I was rather upset back then, and our conversation was far from friendly. I left that party early. But today, I'd like this banquet to continue until the very end."

Shirou simply responded with a smile, "You're not trying to recreate the debates on kingship from that time, are you?"

"Hmph!" Gilgamesh pulled a face. "Do I look like I enjoy such tedious discussions? Whether it's you, Solomon, or any of us, we all have our own perspectives. Arguing about who's the better king… it would be just petty bickering. Besides, you weren't even there that day. How do you know what went down at that banquet?"

Shirou just kept smiling, not giving anything away.

"Is this the work of your Noble Phantasm?" Gilgamesh asked. "Hmph, forget it. Keep your secrets. It makes things more interesting this way."

Shirou motioned Gilgamesh over with a wiggle of his finger. "Hey, Gil, come closer."

Suspiciously leaning in, Gilgamesh asked. "What are you up to? Something you can't say out in the open?"

But as he leaned closer, Shirou threw a sudden punch right into his gut.

Gilgamesh just looked amused. "What's this about?"

"That didn't hurt?" Shirou raised an eyebrow.

Gilgamesh let out a small laugh. "That little jab? Heh, you'll need to train a few more years before you can make me wince!"

Shirou rolled his eyes, "Wish I had some of that physical strength."

Gilgamesh tilted his head, still smirking, "So, what's the real game here?"

With a smile, Shirou simply pointed at him. "Payback. For the Fourth Holy Grail War."

Gilgamesh looked absolutely baffled. "Wait, wasn't it me who got the short end of the stick during that Holy Grail War? I remember being outplayed and bested by someone..."

Shirou smirked, "This was my true revenge."

Gilgamesh scoffed, "That little tap? You call that revenge?"