Note: This Chapter is Re-Translated on 6 / 15 / 2025
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Chapter 23: Tonight, We Are All Knights of the Round Table
Fortunately for Aoko, her earlier frustration didn't last long.
The moment the school battle arc kicked off, a series of deafening explosions blasted her focus straight back to the screen.
Saber and Rider weaved through the narrow school corridors at blinding speed, their weapons clashing in explosive bursts of flame and force.
Blasts of color surged through the school hallways, leaping from the screen as if threatening to escape into the theater itself. Aoko's heart skipped a beat.
She could almost feel the heat from those explosions, the glinting shards of shattered glass flying toward her like a deadly rain.
And then came the final blow—the release of Noble Phantasms.
Rider and Saber unleashed their true power in a spectacular climax. The screen was nearly consumed by a curtain of dazzling light. The sheer force of their clash ripped apart the sky itself.
Glass windows burst into fragments, falling in a glittering cascade like stardust from heaven.
By the time the fight ended and the camera cut back to a visibly exhausted Saber, gasping for breath from magical overexertion, Aoko finally allowed herself to breathe again.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, heart thundering in her ears. She swore her blood was close to boiling.
"…That was incredible."
Aoko licked the corner of her mouth, eyes still fixed on the screen. Her voice trembled with adrenaline.
"I wanna fight one of those Servants myself. How about you, Alice?"
"Shut up."
That was all she got from her companion—Alice's cold, disinterested voice cutting through her fantasy like a blade.
—Meanwhile, back at the preview screening in Fuyuki City…
Medusa sat quietly, offering a small, solemn prayer—for her own onscreen demise.
"So that's it, huh? My screen time's… already over."
She bowed her head slightly, a wistful sigh slipping from her lips.
In order to keep the film's length and pacing tight, Shinji had trimmed down the Rider arc significantly.
Several transitional scenes had been cut completely or boiled down to mere glimpses.
Where once there were two separate battles between Saber and Rider, they'd now been condensed into one.
And with that single, fiery clash on campus, Rider was out of the story.
It made sense. Movies weren't like games or anime—they didn't have the time, or the need, to flesh out every branch and subplot. Padding things out would only weaken the entire structure.
For viewers, Shinji's edits meant a smoother, more intense experience.
But for Rider, it was another story.
Not only had her role been slashed, but the limelight she might've had to showcase her Noble Phantasm had been hijacked by Artoria.
"…So I'm really done, huh."
Rider absently stroked the cover of her book, her eyes clouded with lingering regret.
"Could be worse."
A voice grumbled from the seat beside her—Yan Qing, arms crossed with a bitter frown.
"At least you got a scene. All my parts got cut. I spent weeks brushing up on Japanese swordsmanship for nothing!"
It was true. The Caster faction barely played a role in the Fate route.
In terms of plot relevance, they might as well have been decorations.
So, when the time came to edit the film, Shinji had compressed their involvement to the bare minimum—leaving only a brief appearance by Caster later in the movie, mostly to set up Gilgamesh's entrance.
Understandably, Yan Qing wasn't thrilled.
His face didn't even show up. And now, nearly two-thirds of his scenes were gone.
"Come on now, Yan-bro, take it easy, yeah?"
Hearing the complaint, Shinji quickly turned around from his seat to offer some damage control.
Yan Qing might be a multi-role utility actor now, but in the future, Shinji was counting on him to become a major cash cow. Gotta keep that relationship sweet.
"We had to cut a lot due to time limits, not just your scenes." Shinji explained with an apologetic tone. "Archer's final battle got cut too."
"Wait, what did you say?!"
Archer, seated nearby, jolted upright in disbelief.
He only had two fight scenes in the entire movie. And now he was hearing one of them had been scrapped?!
"Sorry, sorry," Shinji said, wincing. "There just wasn't enough time. But don't worry—I'm saving all your scenes for the extended DVD release."
'Director's Cut, baby.'
'Typical extended editions only toss in a few extra dialogue scenes—mine? Mine's packing two full fights. That's a huge selling point! Guaranteed pre-orders, here I come. Fuhuhuhu~'
As the gears of commercial strategy turned in his head, Shinji's face stayed sheepishly apologetic on the outside.
"…"
"…"
Archer and Yan Qing exchanged glances.
Shinji's reasoning… sounded logical enough. But something about it still felt off.
Rider gave a cold snort.
She didn't remember filming any extra scenes.
"C'mon now…"
Shinji awkwardly rubbed his nose, a sheepish look on his face.
Unlike with Archer or Yan Qing, Rider's reduced screen time wasn't a result of post-production cuts.
It had been decided before filming even began.
"Well then, truly a heartless Master you are," Medusa said with a sharp sneer. "Perhaps I should've taken Sakura as my Master instead."
"I wouldn't mind."
Shinji shrugged, utterly unfazed.
After all, Rider being a Sakura-fanatic was practically a fundamental law of the Nasuverse, as ingrained as Saber's obsession with food.
Besides, his sister wasn't exactly an outsider. Even if Medusa did switch allegiances, that "meat" would still stay in the family pot.
While the cast bantered in hushed voices in the back, their conversations went largely unnoticed. The audience was too thoroughly gripped by the film itself to care.
From the moment Shirou's duel with Shinji began—rescuing others, clashing ideologies, Saber's dramatic entrance, the Servant showdown—scene after scene unfolded like a never-ending thrill ride.
The crowd could hardly keep up.
It was overwhelming.
In truth, nothing about Shinji's directing in this segment was especially groundbreaking.
He had simply followed the blueprint of the big-budget action flicks from his previous life—classic Hollywood-style spectacle.
But that was exactly why it worked.
Because in this world, no one had ever seen anything like it before.
The dazzling effects, high-tension pacing, the sheer visual impact—for these audiences, it was an entirely new experience.
A new kind of pressure. A new kind of awe.
"Phew…"
Alice took out a handkerchief and gently dabbed the sweat from her brow.
Even someone like her, a viewer far more focused on the magical theory than the action sequences, couldn't help but feel the tension.
Her breathing had grown shallow.
"It's… hard to breathe. Is this really a movie?"
She murmured, her words plain but honest.
Until today, Alice had never imagined a film could be this immersive.
Never thought it could rival the vividness of a good book.
And she was far from alone in that sentiment.
As the screen showed the school building—utterly demolished from the Servants' clash—many viewers were struck by the sheer wildness of it all.
The destruction itself felt like a metaphor for the whole experience:
Over-the-top. Unrelenting. And unforgettable.
"Haah… haah…"
Risei, seated several rows ahead, was panting like a bull.
Sweat beaded on his temples. Feeling uncomfortably warm, he unbuttoned his jacket and shrugged it off.
He didn't suffer from high blood pressure or heart conditions.
Even so, the roaring sound system, the relentless visuals, the sheer tension of it all… It was a bit much for someone his age.
"This movie… is a little too intense for an old man like me," he admitted, taking a few deep breaths to calm his heart.
Risei had never considered himself a film connoisseur, but with his decades of life experience, he'd seen his fair share of movies.
Not one of them had ever hit like this.
"…Reminds me of my days as a field executor," Risei muttered to Tokiomi, who sat beside him.
"It makes me want to leap out of my seat and go three hundred rounds with a nest of vampires!"
As if to emphasize his point, he gave the air a playful punch with his fist the size of a sandbag.
But Tokiomi didn't respond.
He seemed lost in thought, stroking the short beard on his chin, eyes narrowed in contemplation.
Onscreen, the action had finally given way to a slower, transitional sequence.
Saber was shown weakened, the cost of releasing her Noble Phantasm clearly visible.
Shirou, both worried and awed, began to question the true identity of his Servant.
This scene was no accident.
It was a planned breather, a built-in pause crafted by Shinji to let viewers recover from the school battle's intensity.
A moment of calm before the storm of Berserker's arrival. A chance to reset the emotional tension.
The audience responded as expected.
Popcorn bags crinkled. Cola straws slurped.
Quiet murmurs filled the room as people took the opportunity to share quick thoughts and impressions.
And dominating those whispered discussions was one thing above all:
"Saber's real name is King Arthur?!"
That timeless bombshell continued to send ripples through the crowd.
Well… there was no helping it.
This world had never experienced blockbuster-level special effects before, let alone the concept of gender-bending historical figures.
Though, to be fair, in the Type-Moon universe, calling it "gender-bending" was technically incorrect.
It was more like "uncovering the truth history forgot."
Still, for the vast majority of people, the mental image of King Arthur was unshakable: a noble, valiant man.
A female Arthur?
From the moment Saber's true identity was revealed, it was inevitable that it would ignite discussion.
Even for those who didn't catch on when she unleashed Excalibur, the moment Shirou dreamed of her drawing the sword from the stone? That iconic scene cleared up all confusion.
The tale of the Sword in the Stone was, after all, one of the most well-known British legends.
Even Disney had once made a full-length animated film about it.
"Wait, what the hell? Saber's Arthur?! I thought she was Joan of Arc!"
A voice rang out from somewhere in the theater, surprised and just a little annoyed.
His outburst was met with a flurry of agreement.
Clearly, he wasn't the only one who had been caught off guard.
"Yeah, seriously! I thought she was Jeanne too—there aren't that many female knights in history, right?"
"Maybe the director knew we'd assume that and deliberately went the other way?" someone offered.
"Then isn't that just being contrarian for its own sake?"
"…But don't you think the idea of King Arthur being a girl is kinda awesome?"
"Seriously, that scene where she used Excalibur just now? That wasn't just cool—it was divine! She looked like the goddess Athena herself!"
"Totally!!"
"If I were a Briton back in those days, I'd totally enlist as a knight of the Round Table! For King Arthur!!"
"Me too!!"
"Saber is the best! Long live King Arthur! Long live Our King!!"
The theater quickly devolved into joyful chaos.
Voices full of passion, fists raised high.
The entire audience seemed to become Round Table knights, united in newfound loyalty to their king.
"…You sure are popular," Medusa muttered sourly, glancing sidelong at the gluttonous king beside her.
Arturia shivered as if a cold breeze had passed over her.
"If these were my knights back then, I fear my kingdom would've fallen even faster."
"You never know~"
Medusa smirked. "Fanatics like these? They'd probably keep the kingdom alive just by shouting their loyalty."
Arturia gave a firm shake of her head.
"No. They'd have nothing in common with Sir Lancelot or Sir Gawain. No shared values. No shared language. They would drive each other insane."
"Are you sure about that?"
Shinji chimed in from the side, his smile wicked and sharp.
In his mind, he was already picturing it:
—Future summoned Knights of the Round Table, seated among rows of modern-day fans,
—All of them waving glow sticks, collectively cheering for their king in the cinema.
Now that would be a promotional event worth filming.