With Marisbury Animusphere's trial concluded, Steve now directed his gaze at another key figure on the battlefield—King Solomon.
The ancient King of of Israel stood quietly nearby, watching his former master passed out atop the throne like a mound of clay. His golden eyes, able to see both past and future, bore absolutely no emotion, as if what unfolded before him were a pre-written script unrelated to himself.
Having been at odds, Steve had worked in secret all along, hoping to provide Chaldea's children with a true graduation battle. In truth, this legendary magus and Steve now stood as equals in conversation for the first time.
The overall impression was indeed remarkable.
One was the ancient King of Magecraft, belonged to the age of planets and gods—the source of all magi.
The other, a King of Magecraft from the distant future, represented the era of stars and space—the pioneer of magecraft's new age.
In this imaginary temple, isolated from time, the ending of the inner sea of stars and the beginning of the outer sea of stars briefly converged.
"The battle is over."
Steve approached him unhurriedly, speaking in a calm voice.
"Your master has lost both the ability and the right to fight as Master—forever."
"So, King Solomon, do you still intend to continue the battle?"
Upon hearing this, King Solomon's gaze shifted from Marisbury to Steve. He showed signs of spiritualization, golden motes of light slowly dissipating from his fingertips. Yet his face remained inhumanly indifferent, as if the vanishing presence was but an insignificant mirage.
His reply, devoid of emotion and perfectly fitting the role of a machine servant, sounded like he was simply stating facts.
"The contract has ended. My duty as a Servant is fulfilled."
"I will return to the Throne of Heroes. That is the natural conclusion."
"Natural…?" Steve chuckled softly at these words.
"No, that isn't the ending I wanted."
Ten years ago, Steve intervened in the Holy Grail War at Fuyuki City, all for this moment—to save a tragic hero fated to sacrifice himself for true Human Order, even to the point of erasure from existence, and pull him off his predestined track.
Having come this far, how could Steve let the other simply disappear?
Raising his hand, Steve's fingers radiated a profound magic, as though clasping the entire heavens. With a gentle wave, the light particles dissipating from King Solomon ceased their scattering, as if seized by an invisible gravity, slowly returning into his body.
Steve forcibly stitched together the collapsing core of Solomon's spirit with cosmic magecraft.
"!"
For the first time, surprise flickered in Solomon's golden eyes. He noticed his spirit form's dissolution had been forcibly interrupted by a law of unparalleled higher order.
"You weren't able to grant victory to your Master in this Holy Grail War,"
Steve smiled at him, speaking gently.
"But that doesn't mean you are forbidden from pursuing your own desires."
"A Master's victory and your own desire are not the same thing."
"...Desire?"
Solomon pondered the word deeply, and for the first time, confusion appeared in his golden eyes.
For one born without humanity, existing as a vessel of kingship, the concept of a wish was incredibly distant and alien.
His rare hesitation signaled to Steve that the right moment had come.
Steve reached into the pocket of his everyday clothes, pulling out a small cup from a pocket linked to imagined space. The cup glowed with soft radiance, not gold, but as though compressed from countless stardust shards—with a dazzling galaxy flowing inside, suffused with the mysterious magic of a vast universe.
This was a small Holy Grail, handmade by Steve especially for today.
"This is a gift I prepared for you, Solomon."
"It's also a gift from the Chaldea, who fought by your side all this time. They, too, hope you'll accept it."
As Steve spoke, all attention turned to him.
Ritsuka Fujimaru, Mash, and Olga Marie each recalled the Dr. Roman who silently protected them, smiling as he sacrificed himself in the end.
Now, sincere expectations and prayers filled their eyes.
Goetia gazed solemnly at Solomon, conflicted—partly furious for reasons he didn't quite understand, but also with an inexplicable sense of hope. Suddenly breaking off, he clicked his tongue in contempt, but his slightly trembling shoulders revealed his inner agitation.
Across the battlefield, Gilgamesh leaned against the throne's remnants, arms folded, grinning slyly at his old chatroom acquaintance. His expression said: "Hm, interesting. Show me what you'll choose."
"Even if it means no longer being the King of Magecraft, even if you forsake the wisdom and blessings granted by the gods,"
Steve's final, gentle push:
"Choosing a special life that belongs to you alone is a good thing."
"All of us here sincerely wish for your happiness someday."
Thus, all those expectant gazes and hopes became an invisible, fiery current that flowed toward King Solomon's heart—a heart that had never once in its existence beat of its own accord.
For the first time, turbulent humanity surfaced over his inhumanly handsome face. Countless possible futures flashed within his golden eyes:
Becoming Roman, joking with everyone at Chaldea, celebrating Mash's growth, worrying about Ritsuka's safety, and at the final Singularity, activating his Noble Phantasm and smiling as he became light…
All those fixed images crumbled. In their place, a completely new unknown realm emerged—one filled with infinite possibilities.
His right hand, trembling uncontrollably, reached out as though to grasp a new universe, and at last—under everyone's watchful eyes—he mustered all the strength he'd possessed since birth, extending his hand to gently touch that shining star in Steve's palm.