"You intend to negotiate with another Master?"
Satsuki's mind worked quickly. Before they even voiced it, she had already grasped their intent.
"Considering your goal is to repair the aberrant history, you aren't direct stakeholders in this Holy Grail War. If you leverage your abilities as bargaining chips, you could reach a certain degree of alliance with other Masters."
El-Melloi nodded. "That is indeed our plan. After all, we arrived here from Chaldea through Rayshift. Our combat strength is limited, and our base of operations cannot intervene since the leyline nearby is warded by other magecraft. In short, we are in a very isolated position."
So openly exposing their disadvantage?
Satsuki gave the long-haired man a thoughtful glance. He hardly seemed the type of fool who would expose himself carelessly. After all, such a man would never have become the acting head of the El-Melloi family. Then where did this sense of trust come from?
This question prompted her to ask: "To my knowledge, this should be our first meeting. Yet you behave as though you know me well. Can you tell me why?"
"Oh? So at this time, you truly do not know." El-Melloi looked faintly surprised. "Since that is the case, the information involved would be vast, requiring considerable explanation. But before that—have you no issues being separated from your Master for such a long period of time?"
This was not a question of doubting her strength.
It was common knowledge in the magecraft world: Servants required mana supply from their Masters to sustain themselves.
Even with Independent Action, a unique Archer-class skill, most could only remain manifested for about two days without supply.
But Satsuki had clearly displayed far more than a low-level Independent Action. The Chaldeans themselves had witnessed her suppress three great demons with something akin to a Reality Marble, and then battle the Caster who had summoned them.
Even from a distance, they had felt the vast magical clashes erupting there—power far surpassing phantasmal species, even dragonkind.
So unless she possessed A or even A+ ranked Independent Action, her existence could not be explained.
Usually, that ability was exclusive to Archer-class Servants. Yet there were ways to sustain oneself—through storing mana in advance, or by means unknown to others.
Satsuki, however, had her own trump card: the colossal Tenseigan.
Thus she always operated separately from her Master, a strategy best suited for their pairing. It was also far safer this way.
So she answered calmly: "You need not worry about that. As for my Master, I will explain things to her."
Through the mana link between them, Satsuki briefly relayed the situation to Angra Mainyu.
After quietly listening, Angra Mainyu's attention turned to the earlier battles.
"I suppose you forgot to buy dinner earlier because you were busy fighting some Servant, weren't you?"
Perhaps because she had once experienced being a Servant herself, Angra Mainyu grasped some of the finer details.
"But still, even if I felt no anomaly in the mana supply, you fought the Grand Magus King Solomon himself and even managed to drive him back. Judging from that, you really are quite the remarkable Heroic Spirit, aren't you?"
Whether her tone was praise or mockery was unclear, but her next words revealed her nature without a doubt.
"Still, no matter how strong you are, don't let yourself be used so easily."
"I know my limits."
"Good, then I have nothing else to say. After all, there's little binding between us. If you can gain important intelligence from them, I won't oppose allying with them."
"Understood." Satsuki answered simply. "If danger comes, call me."
"I am the embodiment of 'All the World's Evils.' Don't think of me as fragile. Also, I don't have this world's currency. Bring back some food when you return."
"No problem. Wait for me to come back."
With that, Satsuki severed her connection with Angra Mainyu.
She turned toward the three Chaldeans waiting nearby. "Alright, I've informed my Master. Now you can explain where your inexplicable trust in me comes from."
As she spoke, the group gradually walked out from the alley. Sunlight spilled upon them once more, giving a sense of dissonance. It was hard to believe that the fierce battle just now had merely pushed time into the afternoon.
"If we are to speak of our connection with you, then we must first clarify a concept—the Lostbelt."
Rustle… rustle…
El-Melloi's crimson coat fluttered in the air. The weight of the subject seemed heavy, and both Mash and Ritsuka Fujimaru's faces grew solemn.
"As you mentioned earlier, different worlds indeed have different trajectories of history." El-Melloi twirled the cigar in his fingers, his expression complicated. "Just as there is competition among living beings, there is victory and defeat between histories."
"Our 'present' is founded upon what we recognize as the 'correct' choices, the 'correct' prosperity, the history of the victors. This is called Proper Human History."
At the notion of "correctness," Satsuki felt a flicker of curiosity mixed with faint aversion. Still, this so-called Lostbelt intrigued her greatly.
El-Melloi continued his explanation: "Histories that stem from mistaken choices, mistaken prosperity, the defeated timelines—these are cut off as 'unnecessary things.' Even parallel world theory abandons them, calling them 'dead ends of human history.' These are what we call Lostbelts. From the shattered remnants of my own perilous time travel, though my memory of your figure is faint, I am certain you stood on the side of Proper Human History. What's more, you were one of the greatest contributors in ensuring its survival against the onslaught of the Lostbelts."
"Is that so?"
Satsuki's verbal reply was as cold as ever, matching her demeanor. But to Ritsuka and Mash, this reaction was unsurprising—after all, this black-haired girl had acted this way from the very beginning.
At this moment, only one word filled Satsuki's mind—"Absurd."
As a reincarnator and traveler between worlds, her sense of belonging had always been entirely independent.
She naturally isolated herself from the outside world, avoided unnecessary contact, and sought no needless bonds.
Of course, this conclusion could not be taken as absolute—for she had not yet reached the point of being truly devoid of emotion.
But she did not belong to any single world. Her current circumstances were simply the result of chance, or perhaps some will that had arranged this "fate."
Though she could not deny the reality of that fate—just as she could not deny her own existence—even if she had convinced herself to accept such an arrangement, that did not mean she would also accept all other ties that came with it.
Since all things arising from fate ultimately returned to nothing, Satsuki held a detached stance toward bonds, emotions, and wealth. Only strength, knowledge, and the pursuit of the unknown truly stirred her interest.
And those pursuits were rarely attached to personified beings, making her all the more cold and unfeeling.
She knew well she had not yet reached complete detachment. Certain connections with certain existences remained, but she kept them carefully balanced, ensuring they never interfered with her core will.
Proper Human History carried a clear monotheistic hue. But within the human-centered discourse system, this caused little resentment among those who considered themselves within the "human" category.
For example, if everyone in the world were murderers, then abolishing the law against murder would be natural—such a law would never exist in the first place.
(There are more extreme examples even in reality, but those need not be discussed here. Likewise, in order to maintain its moral high ground, Proper Human History created its own framework to filter out phenomena of the Lostbelts. That, too, requires no elaboration.)
Because everyone was the same—surviving by taking the lives of others.
From a purely rational perspective, what difference was there between killing an insect and killing a dog? Between killing a dog and killing a person?
Of course, there was a difference—because the race wielding the greatest power in this world was called "human." The beings holding all authority of speech were also "human." With absolute strength and authority, they defined "right and wrong" at will.
But such definitions held no weight for Satsuki.
For she no longer considered herself "human."
At least, not the kind of "human" defined by these Chaldean visitors.
"What does this have to do with the Lostbelts?"
Satsuki pondered for a moment. The possibility could not be dismissed. With her possession of the "Strongest System Across All Worlds," it was possible she would one day be arranged to face the powerful beings of the Lostbelts.
The high-ranking lifeforms of the Lostbelts could distort history itself, even striking back against another parallel world's Proper Human History. Their strength could not be underestimated.
After some discussion, El-Melloi shifted the topic to their next goal.
"I plan to visit Lancer's Master and negotiate cooperation."
Mash appeared uneasy. "Is that really alright? That Master doesn't seem like someone easy to reason with."
Even Ritsuka Fujimaru, usually mild, spoke with anger: "That bald-headed magus is so arrogant, so conceited…"
"Leave it to me." El-Melloi seemed confident. Considering his identity as a time traveler, perhaps he held some unexpected cards to persuade the man.
He turned to both Ritsuka and Satsuki. "But I ask this of you two—leave the negotiations entirely to me. I will set up a telepathic link between you, so you may whisper to one another. But please, under no circumstances, speak aloud. Do you understand?"
Ritsuka nodded. "Alright, let's see the famed tongue of a strategist at work."
Satsuki, of course, had no objections. She nodded once, then dissolved into particle form.
Soon, under El-Melloi's lead, the group arrived at the hotel where Kayneth was staying.
But as soon as they stepped outside, the group found themselves engulfed by an oppressive aura.
It had no effect on Satsuki, but for Mash, Ritsuka, and El-Melloi, it was nearly unbearable.
"The atmosphere is suffocating… El-Melloi, how are we supposed to handle this?"
"Fou~ Fou~"
Even the small white beast called out anxiously.
Unconsciously, Mash had already shifted into battle stance, summoning her massive shield. Though her senses as a Demi-Servant were not as sharp as those of a Heroic Spirit, she could still feel it—there was a Servant in that room with a presence blazing like the sun itself.
A force rivaling the strongest Heroic Spirits she had ever encountered, save only for the Beast-class.
While the group exchanged tense looks, El-Melloi calmly stepped forward and pushed the door open.
"Your courage surprises me." Inside stood a blond, blue-eyed man with short hair. He bore the classic features of a European face, sharply chiseled, his blue eyes stern to the point of severity. His posture was rigid, his bearing harsh, clad in a blue magus' robe, both hands folded behind his back.
The overwhelming Servant did not reveal itself, merely stood beside him as a blurred presence.
Everyone in the group tensed instantly—everyone, that is, except Satsuki.
Standing within the room was Kayneth. His gaze, filled with arrogance and disdain, fell upon the visitors from Chaldea.
"I have already confirmed with the Archisorte family. Your claim of being Lady Reines' proxy is a baseless lie."
Kayneth's face seemed carved from ice, giving the impression that his life consisted only of cold plans and dark ambitions.
"But still, you wanted to see us." El-Melloi's voice remained calm as he faced the 'familiar figure.' The cigar flickered between his fingers. "Instead of sending your allies to attack us with blades, you chose to meet us here."
"That alone proves there is room for cooperation between us. Even if what we say is not entirely true."
"Hmph." Kayneth's tone was harsh. "Aside from interrogating you, there is one thing I wish to confirm—your so-called declaration about my Servant." As he spoke, an immense magical pressure surged from his body.
"Though the details differ, this is indeed something that once happened to me."
By now, Satsuki had already discerned the origin of El-Melloi's soul through her Tenseigan. Hearing this, she could not help but feel a strong sense of déjà vu, like hindsight being laid bare.
"At first, the Servant you intended to summon for this War was not the one before us now. Though he is strong, in truth the catalyst you had prepared was stolen by a student of the Clock Tower—Waver Velvet. Forced by circumstance, you summoned this Lancer instead."
As she observed, El-Melloi's face carried subtle, complex emotions—as if his words held another meaning, perhaps even one tied to her.
Kayneth's expression darkened. "How do you know that?"
"And to design your own contract system into the summoning—that is true genius. The first genius of the Department of Spiritual Evocation."
"Though you appear as Lancer's Master, in truth, the one supplying the mana is not you."
El-Melloi paused, then said slowly, word by word:
"But rather your fiancée—Sola-Ui Nuada-Re Sophia-Ri."
How could the flow of this negotiation turn so abruptly? How could an outsider know such absolute secrets?
Impossible. Inconceivable.
Countless thoughts roared through Kayneth's mind like a swarm of insects, shrieking and swarming. As a 'genius' raised within the Clock Tower since childhood, he was no fool.
The man had said so himself:
"This is something that has already happened to me."
And now, even Kayneth could not deny this impossible possibility.
There was only one explanation for how the other man knew even such insignificant details.