Chapter Forty-Nine: The True Master

After Roland's figure disappeared, Danik's consciousness could no longer endure. After issuing the command to dispel the workshop's transformation to another realm, he fell unconscious.

Within the workshop, now restored to its ordinary appearance, Lancer sighed softly and addressed the figures within the eleven tanks at the center of the room.

"Master, what should I do next?"

As he spoke, the silent workshop gradually brightened, each tank illuminated to reveal the figures inside. Each of them bore an alien and oppressive magical aura, clearly marking them as homunculi. Faint traces of their modifications remained visible upon their bodies.

Even more astonishing, these eleven homunculi were identical in appearance to Danik, whose body Lancer had set aside. Each one was contractually linked to Lancer.

This was why Enkidu had not shown any alarm upon seeing Danik incapacitated. His true master was not merely Danik, but the collective consciousness known as Thousand Realms Tree, comprising Danik and the eleven homunculi together.

As Lancer finished speaking, the eleven tanks emitted a peculiar buzzing sound. Upon hearing it, Enkidu's mood visibly dimmed.

Even if survival is instinct, must it go so far...

He kept this thought to himself, refraining from interference. Faced with a life desperate to survive, Enkidu would not intervene unnecessarily.

Enkidu walked over to the unconscious, ruined Danik and opened his garments.

—In the center of his chest, a shining disc was embedded deep within flesh and blood, flashing intermittently. In the middle of the disc, a slot was filled.

A rune stone bearing the image of a ram was set into it.

Enkidu grasped the disc, gave it a slight twist, and removed it. He then opened a new tank and placed the disc upon the chest of another homunculus.

The disc seemed alive; as it touched flesh, its runes lit up one after another, converging upon the central rune. Gradually, the disc sank into the homunculus's chest.

Immediately, the homunculus opened his eyes, confusion sharpening quickly into clarity. He grabbed a garment nearby and draped it over himself.

"Lancer, has that man left?"

"He has already departed."

"Good," Danik nodded, turning to look at the remaining ten tanks behind him. "I hadn't expected to waste a body here, but this temporary pact was worthwhile. Hmph, even those fools at the Clock Tower could never imagine that I have already achieved what Grand Magi aspire to."

Gazing at the ten homunculi identical to himself, Danik wore a satisfied smile.

"Transforming my original body into pure flesh, creating homunculi from it, splitting my soul into diluted consciousness to form a collective, then entrusting my main obsession and most of my soul to that powerful rune, using it to control my body—Master, in soul research, you are indeed a true master."

Lancer calmly described Danik's methods, his gaze tinged with pity.

He had been summoned by the collective consciousness known as Thousand Realms Tree. When Danik activated the summoning circle, these homunculi—drained by previous rituals and on the verge of disposal—cried out with the desire to live. This intense consciousness replaced the catalyst and summoned him.

This collective consciousness was his true master, not the remnant soul lingering within the rune, sustained only by obsession. Yet, driven by the primal urge to survive, Thousand Realms Tree judged that under the guidance of Danik—who shared its consciousness and was the more perfected host—it could live better. Thus, it accepted Danik as its representative.

"What is that look, Lancer? I thought you could understand me," Danik sneered. "When I acquired this rune, I realized that flesh is merely an unnecessary cage; the soul is true life."

"Besides, I merely hastened the process. In two hundred years, my persona would become a collective consciousness anyway. So why not extract my obsession ahead of time? Moreover, I and Thousand Realms Tree are fundamentally one and the same."

Danik spoke eloquently, "As long as I achieve my goal, both I and Thousand Realms Tree can exist eternally. Thus, these homunculi versions of myself acknowledge me as the core, since without souls, they are merely tools."

"Tools?" Enkidu murmured. "Yet, even so, I believe the souls and lives of humans are precious and radiant. To degrade them, to inhabit tools, and to fashion oneself into a weapon—is that not tragic?"

"Perhaps it cannot be called living, but to survive better, it is necessary."

Danik had completed such transformation decades ago. At the time, unable to activate the ram rune by any means, he conceived a bold idea with his Grand-level research.

If I cannot use the rune, then let the rune use me.

He offered everything of himself to the rune, transforming excess existence into material and vessel. By harnessing the rune's great power, he barely stabilized his self, preserving the core. This granted him not only the skills of a magus but also the powerful magic circuits of a homunculus. Moreover, such entities appeared as a collective; if one was killed, another could immediately take its place.

Selfhood is a terrifying thing. Even Grand-level puppet masters capable of creating multiple bodies would only awaken a new consciousness in a new vessel after death, to avoid conflict.

To have several selves exist simultaneously was unheard of. If not for the ram rune confirming his main identity and persuading the collective consciousness to slumber as his backup batteries, Danik would have faced grave trouble.

Danik's gaze was icy as he addressed Lancer, "If you have any objections, speak plainly."

"I am merely a weapon. If this is Master's will, I will obey."

Lancer regarded the consciousness conveyed by the ten homunculi behind him, bowed his head gently, and accepted Danik's decision with a presence as embracing as nature itself.

"Good. The previous battle was interrupted by that man. What is the current situation, Lancer? Have any heroic spirits been eliminated?"

Enkidu turned to look into the distance. With his highest-level aura sensing abilities, he could detect others' presence from afar. Even an Assassin with an A-ranked presence concealment would be sensed at close range.

He felt the presences dozens of miles away and began to relay the information.

"Rider and Saber have ceased fighting. A servant exuding ominous aura is attacking another—seems to be Archer..."

As Archer's aura emerged, Enkidu involuntarily paused, so familiar, so nostalgic. Lancer was certain—it was the king he knew so well.

"Could it be you?"

Confusion and anxiety surged in his chest, but soon overwhelming joy eclipsed them.

As if fate itself had arranged it, the Holy Grail War was always full of such ironies.

The outcome would not change: either he would take the other's head, or the other would tear out his heart.

This destiny entwined between them—no matter how many times they clashed, it would never break.

Lancer's smile overflowed naturally, his once indifferent lips now transformed by joy.

To be summoned in this Holy Grail War—how truly fortunate.