Chapter Thirty-Three: Roland's Mentor in Life

In the distant Einsbern Castle, Irisviel was hurriedly forming a new contract with Saber.
The death of the Master meant the dissolution of their bond; fortunately, Saber was nearby. Otherwise, if she had failed to find a suitable Master and withdrawn from the battle before even fighting, it would have been far too ridiculous.
After reestablishing their contract, Irisviel examined the fresh crimson Command Spells that appeared on the back of her hand. She murmured, as if still dazed,
“Kiritsugu?”
“Master?”
Saber looked at Irisviel with concern, feeling sorrow herself. According to the knowledge granted by the Holy Grail, if a Master died and the Command Spells had not been claimed by another, they would be reassigned to a suitable candidate.
Though she did not know why the previous Master had not used the Command Spells to summon her, as a knight, Saber felt deeply troubled for failing to save her Master’s life.
After a few seconds, Irisviel regained her composure and spoke calmly.
“Kiritsugu Emiya has lost his status as Master and officially passed away today. I, Irisviel, will assume the role of Einsbern Master and continue to participate in the Fourth Holy Grail War.”
No matter what, for Illya’s sake, she had to go to Fuyuki City and win this war. Remembering Illya’s earlier, strangely plaintive call for her father, a resolute acceptance of reality flashed in Irisviel’s eyes.
Saber, observing Irisviel’s expression, once again bowed to her.
“Yes, Master.”
——
After a brief farewell to the manager, Roland packed away his wages—noticeably more generous than before—and left the convenience store with some reluctance.
“Who would’ve thought my first emotional connection in Fuyuki City would be at my workplace? What does that say about me?”
Roland laughed at himself, recalling the contract spirit he had just seen.
Though he had already guessed from the changes in the story that this escaped contract spirit would be dangerous, he hadn’t expected it to be the soul of the Lord.
That was the embodiment of dark energy, one of the eight ancient demons. Even as a soul, it was far beyond Roland’s current power to oppose.
But things changed once it became a contract spirit. Even the Lord would lose all self-awareness, reduced to a force driven by instinct alone.
The Key of All Spirits didn’t necessarily require a dead thing to forge a contract spirit; it was simply easier to do so with the deceased.
Even now, Roland did not understand the requirements or standards for the Key of All Spirits to create a contract spirit. Someone as obsessed as Kiritsugu Emiya had not become one?
With Kira Yoshikage as precedent, Roland knew the Key of All Spirits cared little for the presence of a soul—it seemed to absorb the existence of power itself.
So why had Ryunosuke Uryu and Kiritsugu Emiya failed, when compared to Kira Yoshikage? What did they lack?
And did he truly have to pay such a price to contract the Lord?

Roland’s smile faded. He never considered himself remarkable; though he disliked those with clear goals who would sacrifice everything for them, he could understand the resolve required.
What did people think when faced with such choices?
Roland didn’t dwell long; he was always decisive. Since he didn’t know, why not just ask?
“You’re late today—how unusual. Did something happen?”
Zouken Matou stood at the entrance of the old mansion, watching Roland approach, his eyes glinting with an eerie sheen as he spoke with a mocking tone.
Through their recent exchanges of information, he had discovered that Roland was a very punctual person, never late without reason.
“Ah, nothing much. Ran into the Einsbern Master on the way and killed him, wasted a bit of time.”
Roland answered Zouken’s question casually, arms crossed, his face still troubled.
But Zouken could not suppress his shock.
He had always been wary of Roland, not due to any evidence but out of innate suspicion.
Yet, given his pure goal this time, it hardly mattered whether the other plotted anything in secret.
No matter Roland’s sincerity in alliance, once he entered the Holy Grail War, he would inevitably clash with other Masters—only a matter of efficiency.
But to eliminate a Master so quickly—wasn’t this efficiency a bit extreme?
“Einsbern’s? That mercenary they hired?”
“Yes, but the Command Spells were reclaimed by the Grail, likely reassigned to Einsbern.”
“That hardly matters. Even if the contract continues through a homunculus, so what? Not to boast, but the Einsbern’s combat abilities are far from impressive.”
“Hmm,” Roland replied absentmindedly. After a moment’s thought, he voiced his question.
“Zouken Matou, if a shortcut to the top were right before you, but taking it might twist something important within you, would you still walk that path?”
“Of course I would.” Though puzzled by the meaning, having witnessed Roland’s achievements, Zouken’s tone was friendlier than before.
“You’re still too young. When you’ve been through more, you’ll understand—there’s no need to hesitate.”
“Humans live by chasing after something—ideals, obsessions. In the end, their very nature may become shaped by what they pursue. Can you truly call that a distortion?”
Zouken had intended to enlighten Roland, but as he spoke, his own voice grew somber, almost chilling.
He looked at his withered hands, this repulsive, decrepit form, and quietly clenched his fists.
Immortality was his obsession.

No matter the price, no matter how twisted he became, he would continue down this path, never regretting it—for he had already sacrificed too much.
Wait, what was it that drove him to pursue immortality in the first place?
After pondering for a while, Zouken couldn’t find the answer. So he looked up at the contemplative Roland.
“Socrates once said that human virtue is to shape the soul into a better form. Each person’s pursuit springs from their own sense of goodness. Roland, what do you seek?”
“Eternal peace of mind.”
Roland replied without hesitation.
He had always been clear about this. To maintain a tranquil life, he must overcome fear and anxiety, and find peace within.
“Peace of mind, is it? That’s a deep pursuit,” Zouken’s words carried a trace of unpleasant laughter.
“Peace of mind varies by perspective. Ordinary people find it through marriage, children, and friends. Once you have status, you chase wealth and power. With ideals, you seek the Root like magi, or the love and peace society promotes.”
There was regret in Zouken’s tone.
“Such a wish seems small, but in truth is grand beyond measure. Broadly speaking, all humanity seeks these things. Human capabilities are limited; I advise you to set your goals a bit lower. Perhaps then you can numb yourself in fleeting comfort.”
Listening to Zouken’s biting words, Roland’s gaze flickered, his eyes bright as stars, a smile of uncertain meaning on his lips, as if suddenly enlightened.
“Wonderful. I am beginning to understand everything.”
His tone was at once confessional and exultant, carrying a vibrant excitement.
“Human ability truly is limited.”
“I’ve learned from my brief life that the more humans scheme, the more unexpected events disrupt them—unless one becomes something beyond human…”
Scenes from these days flashed through his mind: the priest of spicy cuisine, the deranged killer, the magus assassin, and that damned Black Grail.
Each had unknowingly intruded, shattering his peace and shaping the current situation. What price must he pay to erase all anxiety?
Unable to keep up with Roland’s train of thought, Zouken watched this incomprehensible spectacle, and for once, felt a rare sense of fear toward the young man before him.
“What are you trying to say?”
Roland revealed a smile brighter than ever, so cheerful it unsettled the soul, and spoke softly,
“I’m done being human!”