Hearing Zelretch praise him as the "embodint of possibility," Steve didn't beco smug; instead, he scratched his head again in embarrassnt, as if "overpraised by an elder."
"Just kidding. It's just my selfish instincts."
His tone was sincere, with no trace of falsehood.
This wasn't humility, but a deeper self-analysis of the soul.
He decided to treat this living legend as a trustworthy senior and slowly recount the heavy burden that had been buried under the halo of "civilization's founder," which he had never spoken of in his lifeti.
"I've spent almost my entire life carrying the prayers of others on my back."
Steve's gaze drifted far away, as if piercing through the cafe's glass window to stare at a world woven of blood and fire.
"Though, at first, it was just a... very simple emotion."
"In the world I lived in, the Dead Apostles' forces were far more rampant than here."
"They could easily create 'disasters that massacre entire towns' without paying any price."
"In that world, humanity's position was like a tower made of glass—bright and beautiful on the surface, but actually transparent and fragile."
"I feel deep regret about such situations. And I feel the most fundantal anger toward the evil that tramples life so recklessly."
He paused for a mont, as if organizing his thoughts, trying to convert those heavy emotions into a calm narrative.
"So, I chose the path of protecting the Earth while revitalizing humanity."
"I'm not a born leader or hero. I just felt that 'soone has to do sothing.'"
"In the end, I realized that becoming a leader was the most efficient way to protect both humanity and the Earth, so I followed the expectations around and beca the 'king' of human power in that world."
At this point, Steve laughed self-deprecatingly.
"In a way... I could be said to be the most unsuitable person for a king."
The Old Man of the Jewels listened quietly, the playful expression gone from his face.
Instead, there was a profound focus that transcended ti.
He didn't interrupt, simply gesturing for the other to continue.
"Because I actually lack the 'desire for power' that's essential for a leader."
"My own desire for power is actually quite weak."
Steve's voice was soft but carried an undeniable truth. "I'm the kind of person who would imdiately abdicate if soone more capable than appeared. But since no suitable successor has been found, I have no choice but to endure alone."
He leaned back deeply in his chair, looking up at the ceiling as if seeing the deep starry sky he had sought throughout his life.
"To unite the power of all humanity, revitalize the already declining human order in that world, and shift the balance of inhibition—which had greatly tilted toward the 'mysterious' side—back to a side more favorable to humanity... I exhausted nearly every sche and plan."
"In the end, I gained the support of the Human Federation, which accounted for over 90% of all humanity."
"Perhaps... during my lifeti, I was truly an unprecedented leader of humanity..."
His tone suddenly changed, revealing the fatigue and loneliness hidden beneath his great achievents.
"But... because of this, I've lost a certain kind of 'freedom.'"
"All the cosmic inhabitants I personally sent out to the universe, stars, and seas regard as the supre commander. They all long for to lead the way to the future and beco the undying fla of hope in their hearts..."
Steve's voice trembled almost imperceptibly.
"But who can I, the supre commander, rely on?"
This casual self-question seed to carry trendous weight, freezing the air in Gakumazawa Ccafe.
Complex emotions appeared in the old man's eyes.
It was understanding, empathy, and even sympathy.
After all, the other party, who also lacked a desire for power, had forcibly assembled magus—who preferred solitary action and had no military power or collective consciousness—into an army during the early Middle Ages to counter Crimson Moon's invasion, raising the banner of savior as the "Wizard Marshall."
He deeply understood the loneliness of having no one else to rely on and having to stand up alone to save the world.
Then, Steve turned his gaze back to the old man in front of him, a relieved smile on his face.
"So, Zelretch, do you understand now?"
"I... deep down, probably want to live in a world where human order is stable and strong enough that soone like doesn't need to interfere."
"What I want now is probably just... to live an ordinary life as an ordinary person."
"And this world..."
He gazed at the cafe's warm lights and listened to the distant hustle of the quiet city. "Maybe this is what I've been searching for."
After he finished speaking, a long silence spread around the small tea table.
Zelretch said nothing, simply picking up his long-cooled teacup and downing it in one gulp.
He set down the teacup and let out a long sigh, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
"...I see."
He said gently, with a voice filled only with pure emotion, devoid of mockery. "So that's how it is..."
He looked up again, but the way he gazed at Steve had completely changed.
It was no longer a strong one probing another strong one but rather a deep understanding and respect between comrades who transcended countless eras and worlds.
"Steve Weis, you said you are 'unfit to be a king'... but I have co to tell you that this 'unfitness' is precisely your most precious and true 'quality as a king.'"
The magician's voice beca gentle yet powerful. "Those who hunger for power are ultimately consud by it. Those intoxicated by domination inevitably descend into madness through domination."
"Only soone like you... who sees the throne as 'shackles,' power as 'tools,' and protection as 'instinct,' can preserve their 'human' heart eternally, untainted by a great cause that could shatter even gods."
He paused for a mont, then showed a heartfelt, gentle smile.
"You are not selfish. On the contrary, you are more 'selfless' than anyone else."
"What you desire is not to escape responsibility, but a world where 'responsibility has been fulfilled.'"
"Welco, weary hero from the future."
The ancient magician Old Man of the Jewels addressed him with unprecedented solemnity.
"If this world can fulfill your wish, then both I and this world will wholeheartedly welco your 'retirent.'"
"Live the life you desire and enjoy peaceful days."
"As for the blind flies that might disturb your peace..."
A cold dignity befitting the Second Magician settled in his eyes. "This ddleso old man will handle them for you."
...
The casual chat with the Old Man of the Jewels continued for a while, shifting from topics like the survival of the world and the mysteries of magic to lighthearted, amusing anecdotes like "which parallel world's tea is the most delicious" or "elegant ways to tease the lords of the Clock Tower," filled with the atmosphere of "retired old cadres."
Finally, as Steve finished his last sip of coffee, this important eting ca to an end.
He politely declined the old man's strong insistence on treating him, paid the bill himself instead, and pushed open the door of Gakumazawa cafe, which seed to connect two worlds.
The warm afternoon sunlight and the bustle of Fuyuki City flowed in, completely washing away the otherworldly mysterious atmosphere that the magicians had been drifting in.
Steve took a deep breath of the slightly cool air of this peaceful era, feeling an unprecedented sense of peace.
Honestly, he wasn't too concerned about the troublemakers the Old Man of the Jewels ntioned might cause in his "post-retirent life."
This wasn't arrogance, but quiet confidence based on an absolute difference in power.
He knew well that the [Caster] Spirit Origin he was currently manifesting was rely the most peaceful and restrained aspect of his vast, star-like essence.
Among the vast possibilities recorded in the Throne of Heroes, there were actually quite a few classes suitable for him.
His essence was similar to that of the King of Hero, who was currently lounging in so mansion in Fuyuki City, indulging in video gas all day.
They were both existences outside the norm, their Spirit Origins not static but actively adjustable by their own will.
Just like the old wise king in the Seventh Singularity, who effortlessly returned to his Archer form at the mont of the final battle.
Steve could unleash his true power as needed.
His strongest class was [Saver].
It was truly a savior-like existence worthy of being called "Grand."
How could this man care about the modern magus or the Burial Agency of the Holy Church, collectives far inferior to the civilization he built in his era?
They were like a group of primitives trying to rub sticks to make fire while attempting to understand the principles of a nuclear fusion reactor. The gap between them was no longer sothing that could be bridged by re nurical strength.
If they truly thought he was easy to bully just because he ended this Holy Grail War without fighting any Servants and resolved everything through peaceful talks... that would be a huge mistake.
Their ignorance would beco the greatest misfortune of their lives.
However, despite that, Steve had no bad habit of carelessly showing his power and inviting disaster upon himself.
The most important thing in post-retirent life is "peace and tranquility."
He didn't want his daily routine to beco a boring repetition of dealing with various challengers and researchers.
As he walked through the streets of Fuyuki City, an irreparable regret for this era and this land surfaced in his mind.
His thoughts raced through countless possibilities, finally settling on a solitary figure with silver hair and golden eyes.
A girl who originally shouldn't have borne such a fate.
—Caren Ortensia.
In the original work, her saintly compassion, combined with her setting as a girl of this era, made her appear in Steve's eyes as soone who could respond to his desires.
Once the target was identified, he acted with lightning speed.
He called the secret number left by Emiya Kiritsugu. Upon hearing his request for "a full set of legal docunts to travel to Italy imdiately," the man on the other end was filled with surprise and confusion but agreed without hesitation.
Kiritsugu harbored a complex mix of gratitude, reverence, and wariness toward the "Caster" who had single-handedly ended the Holy Grail War and saved his family.
Naturally, he wouldn't refuse a small favor for Steve.
Just a few hours later, a perfect set of docunts was delivered to him.
He declined the offer to send a private jet for escort and instead boarded a night flight to Ro like any other regular passenger.
Sitting in the slightly cramped economy-class seat, feeling the plane's minor turbulence, Steve still had the leisure to gaze out the window and admire the land below, adorned with countless lights like a dazzling sea of stars.
This was the peaceful scenery he wanted to protect.
The plane landed in Italy.
Without stopping for a mont, he rented a car, left the bustling city, and plunged into the quiet, ancient countryside of Tuscany, illuminated by moonlight.
Here, he closed his eyes and heightened his senses to the limit.
The Astonishing Wisdom he had already quietly activated.
In his perception, the material world lost its color, replaced by countless sparkling "lines" woven of cause and effect.
He ignored the dim lights of ordinary people's lives and filtered the chaotic magical traces of magics like neon lights.
His sole purpose was to find that contradictory thread of fate—faint, yet pure like holy light, carrying an ominous aura as if it could absorb all surrounding suffering.
He found it imdiately.
It pointed deep into a hill where an ancient monastery stood alone under the moonlight.
In the dead of night, everything was silent.
Steve parked the car in a distant forest and quietly approached St. Mark's Monastery.
The weathered stone walls glead coolly under the moonlight, and the air was filled with the scent of cypress and earth.
Instead of using the front entrance, he directly activated magic, passing through the wall like a ghost lting into the night, without attracting anyone's attention.
The monastery was completely silent, except for his footsteps, which were utterly muted by invisible magic.
Steve walked through the cold corridors adorned with statues of Jesus on the cross, past the priest's bedrooms, and finally stopped in front of a simple room at the very end, guided by the thread of fate.
He didn't push open the door; instead, he passed through the wall again, without stirring a single breeze, his form shifting from invisible to solid inside the room.
The room was narrow, with extrely simple furniture.
A wooden bed, a desk, a chair, and a plain cross hanging on the wall—that was all.
And on that small bed sat a girl.
She looked about 5 or 6 years old, wearing a faded gray nun's habit.
Her long, smooth silver hair sparkled like moonlight under the cool rays streaming from the window.
She wasn't asleep. She just sat quietly, holding a thick Bible in her arms, as if offering evening prayers.
When she slowly raised her head at the sound, he saw her pure golden eyes.
Those eyes held no childlike innocence or curiosity, only a calmness and indifference utterly unsuited to her age, as if she had seen through all the suffering in the world.
She saw the uninvited guest, Steve, who had suddenly appeared in her secret room.
But she didn't scream or call for help, showing not the slightest sign of panic.
She simply looked at him quietly. Her golden eyes seed to scrutinize the unknown soul that had invaded her domain.
Steve looked at her delicate, doll-like face, which was completely expressionless, and a feeling of pity welled up in his heart.
He knew Caren's future fate—the suffering she would endure, how she would use her body to bear others' sins, and ultimately beco the Holy Church's most useful yet saddest pillar.
So, he decided to start this fateful encounter in the least "savior-like" way possible.
Thus, Steve first gave Caren a gentle smile, assuming as harmless an attitude as possible, then, in a sowhat mysterious and slightly frivolous tone, extended a bizarre invitation that would overturn her previous understanding.
"Nice to et you, little lost lamb from afar."
"Would you like to make a contract with and beco a magical girl?"
…
Next bonus chapter at 500 PS
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