"Merlin, what were you thinking earlier? I may not fully understand, but surely you anticipated that saying such things would provoke King Ophis's displeasure?"
As the three Servants stepped out of the temple, Jeanne immediately pressed her question, brows drawn tight.
"Hmm, seems the saint is quite strict, huh?"
Merlin met Jeanne's stern look with his usual carelessness, as though nothing in the world could trouble him.
"Merlin!"
Jeanne could only sigh helplessly at his attitude.
"This concerns humanity's very survival—we can't afford division among ourselves."
"Oh, relax, relax."
Merlin waved a hand as if brushing away her worry.
"When it comes to upholding duty, this king is perhaps even stricter than the one I once tutored. She knows exactly what must and must not be done, and she'll follow those rules to the letter—even if it means forcing herself. In short, Saint, what you fear won't happen."
"Is… that so?"
"However," Merlin went on, "unlike the one I tutored, this king uses those rules only to restrain herself. That's not necessarily a good thing, you know?"
"Is that… really bad?"
Jeanne's expression was puzzled.
In life, as the Saint of France, she'd lived under equally rigid self-discipline. To her, restraint—even if imperfect—was far better than moral carelessness.
"Well, it's true this approach minimizes accidents," Merlin admitted with a faint laugh, "but that's all it does."
He shook his head lightly.
"Bound by the framework called 'king,' she'll remain only an excellent ruler—never a true Hero-King. And so she'll stay forever trapped in her uncertainty."
"Is that… so?" Jeanne murmured, still not fully grasping his meaning.
But Merlin—the magus who had shaped that "perfect king"—was not someone to speak lightly on such matters.
"Well, saying more won't change anything. Saint, you should return to the front lines. The soldiers are surely waiting to see their beacon of hope again."
"Yes… understood."
Though still uneasy, Jeanne knew her duty.
Unlike Altera or Arjuna, who offered strength or strategy, she was the army's spiritual pillar.
She could not remain away for long.
Raising her banner once more, Jeanne dashed toward the northern battlefield.
"Hmm… even I can't escape my occupational habits, it seems. I didn't say too much, but perhaps it'll help her face some truths sooner. Now, I wonder which way the future will turn…"
Merlin looked up at the sky with a faint smile.
"Ah, even though my current vision is already rather convenient, it'd certainly be easier if I could see the future as clearly as those other two. Still—uncertainty has its own charm…"
"What do you think, King Ophis?"
From behind him, Ophis slowly emerged from the temple.
"Perhaps."
Uncertainty could indeed hold some appeal—but under these circumstances, if she could see the future clearly, Ophis would gladly trade all excitement for certainty, no matter how dull.
But speculation was pointless. She saw no need to dwell on it.
"Merlin, I need your help."
"Oh? Hearing such words from King Ophis is quite the surprise."
Merlin's tone was playful, though his face showed no trace of genuine surprise.
Ignoring him, Ophis drew from her Gate of Babylon a large barrel filled with crimson liquid and a stone tablet, handing both to Merlin.
"I need a magic formation drawn to encompass all of Uruk. I'll handle the temple at its core; the rest is up to you."
"Oh?"
Accepting them, Merlin skimmed the formation diagram carved into the stone and chuckled softly.
"I see… so King Ophis already has plans in motion. In that case, as your humble familiar, I suppose I must give it my best."
"I'm counting on you."
"Not a problem at all."
He hefted the barrel slightly, examining it.
"This should be the blood of a Phantasmal Species, right? But there's something odd mixed in… did you add anything?"
"Only a few drops of serpent's blood—to make activation easier to control."
"Serpent's blood, huh? Well, as long as it doesn't interfere with the magic circle, it's none of my concern."
Tucking the stone tablet under his arm, Merlin waved a hand casually and strolled off without looking back.
Watching him go, Ophis's gaze drifted toward the streets of Uruk—where several figures, clearly messengers, were sprinting toward the temple.
Her mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.
By her calculations, she'd been working without rest for over ten straight days.
Even without physical fatigue, the constant pressure was starting to weigh on her mind.
[Honestly, taking a short break wouldn't hurt. You don't have to work nonstop.]
"It's fine."
Ophis shook her head.
[Even for you, too much mental strain can lead to judgment errors, you know?]
"I'll keep that in mind."
With that, she turned back toward the temple, waiting for the messengers' reports.
Rest, to her, wasn't necessary. It might refresh her mind, but it wasn't something she truly needed.
[Hmm… I have no right to meddle, but you really lack practical experience. At this rate, you might overturn the whole situation at a critical moment. What's that human saying again—old horses?]
Lack of experience, too many tasks—
even a dragon's mind could falter under that weight.
"…Fine. Once I finish the current work, I'll shift focus for a while."
Ophis wasn't stubborn for stubbornness's sake. After thinking it over, she decided to compromise.
…Though in truth, she sensed a certain malice in Inori's tone when she'd said "old horse."
Either way, human or dragon—moderation was best.
[Shift your focus instead of resting, huh…? Well, whatever. It might still help. Anyway, rely a bit more on those Servants of yours. Some may think oddly, but as Heroic Spirits of human history, they're absolutely dependable.]
"Mm. I'll remember that."
With those words, Ophis's form vanished once more into the depths of the temple.