Chapter 340: The Sword That Slays the God of War!
The relationship between Waver and Kayneth had always been… peculiar, to say the least.
From the outside, people saw a brilliant master and his promising young apprentice. But anyone who'd actually witnessed them together would probably say it looked more like a never-ending cold war.
Kayneth may have accepted Waver as his disciple because of his rare talent, but he never once showed the boy any sign of favoritism.
If Waver's thesis had even the slightest flaw, Kayneth would tear it apart word by word, until there was nothing left but ashes and humiliation.
It wasn't rare for Waver to end up in tears after one of these "academic critiques." All-nighters became his daily routine—revising, rewriting, and rewriting again, until dawn broke.
And yet, Kayneth seemed to enjoy it. While other professors were satisfied with their students' progress, Kayneth would still be found standing over Waver, forcing him to rewrite paragraph after paragraph.
Whenever Waver finally snapped and wanted to curse his teacher out, Kayneth would simply say in that icy, arrogant tone of his:
"If this is your idea of acceptable work, then you can forget about inheriting my research."
Kayneth El-Melloi—the man who had mastered the art of psychological warfare—could make Waver pull three consecutive all-nighters with a single sentence.
Shinji, who was watching this circus from the sidelines, secretly suspected that it's Kayneth fault that even though he never took part in the Holy Grail War and was still alive and well in this world, Waver still looked as worn-out and prematurely aged as he did in Case Files of Lord El-Melloi II.
Though maybe it was just Waver's fate to die of overwork in every universe. The kind of man the Counter Force itself would assign to keep the Clock Tower running.
All in all, Waver's student years under Kayneth were not what you'd call pleasant.
Waver was a submissive little guy, sure—but not without pride. Otherwise, in Fate/Zero, he wouldn't have stolen the relic and joined the Holy Grail War just to prove himself to Kayneth.
But in this world, there was no Holy Grail War, and Waver was officially Kayneth's personal disciple.
So whenever Kayneth scolded or mocked him, all Waver could do was hide behind his back and make faces—sticking out his tongue, puffing his cheeks, pulling childish grimaces.
After a while, that little ritual made them famous around the Clock Tower.
At first, people thought the prestigious El-Melloi was simply "disciplining" his upstart student from the new generation.
Someone even tried to curry favor by tattling to Kayneth—telling him that Waver mocked him behind his back.
That person… was never seen in the Clock Tower again.
Only then did people realize that Kayneth wasn't just tormenting his disciple—he was protective of him too. Extremely so.
Still, their "dynamic" was so strange that no one could really describe it as teacherly affection.
In the end, everyone decided that what bound these two together wasn't emotion, but sheer academic obsession.
Their relationship began to shift only after Waver officially graduated and became a lecturer himself.
Perhaps out of respect for Waver's new position, Kayneth stopped tearing into him in public. Instead, he switched to a new tactic—sarcastic remarks delivered with a refined smile.
Waver, for his part, had finally grown confident enough to talk back. Instead of pouting behind his teacher's back, he'd now argue right to his face.
Their back-and-forth bickering became so famous that people jokingly called it "The El-Melloi Double Act."
A rare comedic performance amid the dreary halls of the Clock Tower.
Compared to that, Kayneth's treatment of Shinji was practically indulgent. As long as Shinji didn't make any catastrophic mistakes, Kayneth let him pass without complaint.
"Unbelievable," Waver muttered once, sulking. "I wrote half of his papers, and he's the one getting praised."
It wasn't hard to see why Waver didn't like Shinji very much.
Shinji himself, however, had a theory. He suspected that Kayneth had already seen through his "chaos fairy" nature. If Kayneth ever pushed him too hard, Shinji would probably flip the entire department upside down.
"Honestly, Waver's just too obedient," Shinji said with a grin. "Anyone can push him around a little."
Luvia, who was listening nearby, crossed her arms, unimpressed.
"I disagree. Professor Velvet isn't nearly as mild as you think. Back at the Tower, he was the strictest with us—even though he couldn't beat us in a fight."
By "us," of course, she meant herself and Rin Tohsaka.
Shinji shot her a withering glance without a word.
"Yeah, right. Try hitting back and see what happens. Kayneth would probably fill you with mercury and sink you straight into the Thames."
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆
"—Achoo!"
Far away at the Clock Tower, Waver sneezed hard enough to smack the remote in his hand, switching the TV channel by accident.
"How old are you again?" Kayneth asked with a smirk, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Hands already trembling like an old man?"
"Better make sure Reines doesn't have to spoon-feed you water someday."
Waver sighed, changed the channel back, and deadpanned, "You should talk less, Professor. I just hope you won't be living the rest of your life in a wheelchair."
Kayneth chuckled softly. "If I do end up in one, you'll be the one pushing me."
"…"
Waver opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Because deep down, he knew—if his teacher really did lose the ability to walk, there was no way he wouldn't be the one pushing that wheelchair.
Maybe he'd just make sure to "accidentally" bump a few pebbles along the way, so the great Professor Kayneth El-Melloi could experience the thrill of off-road wheelchair racing.
"…So, who do you think's going to win?" Waver asked at last, hiding that wicked little thought deep inside. He pointed at the TV screen.
Although both he and Kayneth had made cameos in Fate/Kaleid Liner Magical Illya, they'd only received the parts of the script that involved them.
Neither of them had any idea how the current battle—Bazett vs. Miyu—was going to end.
So, Waver figured they might as well make a game out of guessing.
He'd timed his question perfectly, right as Bazett was blown backward by a flash of dazzling, meteor-like light—the charge of Miyu's Pegasus.
From the looks of it, Miyu had completely seized the initiative at the start of this new episode.
"She's strong, that little Rider," Kayneth said, tone dripping with disinterest even as he voiced the compliment.
"So you're betting she'll lose then, huh, Professor?"
Waver frowned slightly. He didn't agree.
Miyu was, after all, Shinji's avatar in this show—the savior of Illya and Chloe.
Knowing Shinji's narcissistic tendencies, there was no way he'd let his own stand-in lose here.
Sure, Waver had spent plenty of effort quashing conspiracy theories about Shinji's ego—but that didn't mean he wasn't influenced by them himself.
Kayneth, though, thought his student was being far too naive.
"This fight's barely begun," he said calmly. "You've only seen Bazett McRemitz's baseline combat strength. She hasn't even drawn her trump card yet."
"Trump card?"
Waver tilted his head. He didn't know much about Bazett personally.
She worked for the Sealing Designation Bureau—not exactly the kind of people you studied unless you had a death wish. Those maniacs tended to get… suspicious.
Still, with his analytical eye, Waver could probably dissect her entire technique just by seeing it once.
"Of course," Kayneth went on. "McRemitz's trump card is devastating—and it's a counter-type ability. That's exactly why Shinji had the girl use a Rider Card instead of a Saber. Her Noble Phantasm complements that counter perfectly."
Waver still looked doubtful. "You think Shinji would really do that? Let himself lose to someone from the Aristocrat faction? The guy's too petty for that."
"Hmph. It's because he's petty that he wouldn't stoop to underhanded tricks," Kayneth said loftily. "A man that prideful wouldn't project himself as some random little girl. No, he'd jump right into the story himself."
"And then die miserably in his own show?" Waver shot back. "Not exactly a flattering legacy."
Kayneth chuckled. "Ha! Waver, you really are still too young."
A low, amused chuckle slipped from Kayneth's lips.
"Shinji Matou might make fun of himself, but that doesn't mean he'd let anyone else steal his glory. If he's meant to be the savior of these little girls, then rest assured—he'll make his own grand entrance before the story ends."
He swirled the wine in his glass, eyes glinting under the lamplight.
"As for that black-haired girl…"
Kayneth took a slow sip.
"A pity."
"Oh, really?" Waver said, voice edged with disbelief.
Kayneth caught the tone easily, but didn't bother responding. He didn't need to argue—he was confident the next episode would prove him right.
In truth, all this fuss came from a handful of bored conspiracy theorists who mistook speculation for revelation and spread it like gospel—enough to poison even his own pupil's mind.
People loved to pretend they'd "seen through it all," turning every coincidence into some grand hidden plot.
But the world wasn't a stage for constant intrigue. Most "mysteries" were just the result of people overthinking things.
Sure, when Shinji Matou wrote Fate/Kaleid Liner Magical Illya, he might've borrowed inspiration from the Clock Tower's political chessboard—but saying every character was some kind of metaphor for real mages? That was just ridiculous.
Kayneth's stance on such nonsense was clear: conspiracy theories were fine for a laugh—but take them seriously, and they'd rot your brain.
Believe them wholeheartedly? Then you were, quite simply, an idiot.
Too bad Kayneth didn't know that in a few short years, the world would drown in conspiracies far worse than Clock Tower gossip.
Forget political games, people would start believing the U.S. president was a lizard person.
And the wildest part? The officials never denied it.
"Waver," Kayneth said suddenly, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. "How about a little wager?"
"Huh?"
"Let's bet on who wins—McRemitz or the little girl."
"What's the stake?" Waver asked, narrowing his eyes.
Kayneth glanced at the clock.
"Loser fetches the midnight snack."
"Deal!"
They clapped hands, sealing the bet like a pair of schoolboys.
Both were utterly confident they'd win.
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Boom!
On the TV screen, Miyu was clearly gaining the upper hand. Her Pegasus dive-bombed with overwhelming force, dominating Bazett completely.
Even though Miyu's Pegasus was a degraded copy—a knockoff of the mythic steed that once bore Perseus—its sheer power was absurd.
The original Rider herself was already a watered-down version of her mythic self, and a Class Card was yet another step down.
Even so, Miyu's control of Pegasus left Bazett with no room to breathe.
It was simple math: raw power.
When Pegasus dove, it was like a semi-truck slamming into you at Ferrari speed.
Bazett's physical prowess might've been monstrous, but even she could only dodge that kind of strike.
And with Pegasus's ability to fly, Miyu could attack from above and retreat before Bazett could even counter.
"So this is the true strength of a Class Card…"
Bazett muttered, staring up at the gleaming white streak cutting through the night sky.
Then she straightened, loosening her tie and shrugging off her suit jacket, her movements calm and precise despite the chaos.
"There was once a theory," she said, almost like a lecturer mid-battle. "When we learned it was possible to channel fragments of Heroic Spirits through Mystic Codes, some speculated that perhaps a human could serve as the vessel instead."
With that, she unbuttoned her cuffs and collar, freeing her upper body for greater movement.
"But the magical structure embedded within these cards is so complex, even the Association has never fully analyzed it."
She lifted her gaze toward Miyu, and for the first time, her expression shifted—eyes widening slightly in genuine astonishment.
"Yet you… can wield that power so effortlessly."
Unlike Chloe, who had been knocked out earlier, Miyu was someone Bazett had actually seen use a Class Card with her own eyes.
To highlight Bazett's rising vigilance, the camera lingered on her—her entire body framed in the wind, eyes sharp, stance taut.
And, coincidentally, tonight's Type-Moon screening event just so happened to feature this very new episode of Fate/Kaleid Liner Magical Illya.
Of course, Bazett's scene gave certain people some… interesting ideas.
"Hey! Shinji!"
Rin Tohsaka reached over and tugged sharply at the corner of Shinji's mouth.
"Why are you making the girls strip again in a kids' show? You're corrupting young minds!"
"That's not fanservice!" Shinji caught her wrist before she could keep pulling. "That's a serious battle expression shot! Do you see her showing anything inappropriate in that frame?"
Rin scoffed. "Please. I know you too well. Even if it's just a glimpse of her collarbone, you could probably write thirty thousand words of filth from it."
"The kids need imagination!" Shinji snapped back, slapping the armrest. "They're too young to think like I do anyway!"
"—You're not even denying it!?"
Sitting behind them, Ryougi Shiki couldn't help but let out a breathless laugh.
Was this really something to be proud of?
If she asked him directly, Shinji would probably answer, "Yeah, I'm just being honest."
That was the kind of man he was—blunt to the point of absurdity.
Rin often said that Shinji's brain had been completely taken over by his "lower impulses," leaving no room for other thoughts.
But even she had to admit—when it came to choreographing fight scenes, Shinji Matou was a genius.
Even though he hadn't personally directed this particular episode, his script notes had given the animation team all sorts of ideas.
Like having both combatants pause before the final clash—sharing a few tense words, letting the atmosphere coil tighter and tighter until it was ready to snap.
It was classic western gunslinger logic.
The most exciting moment in a duel isn't when the trigger's pulled, but the heartbeat before—when both sides are reading each other's resolve.
The steadier your mind, the surer your victory.
And this time, Bazett clearly held that advantage.
Because Miyu's heart… was wavering.
"I want you to answer me!"
Miyu shouted from atop Pegasus, eyes fierce.
"Luvia—where are Luvia and the others!? I don't see them anywhere!"
"…"
Bazett only looked up at her, expression unreadable.
"Answer me!!"
Finally, Bazett's voice came—cold, almost indifferent.
"Under those piles of rubble over there."
"…I see."
Miyu's hand rose to her face. She tore off the blindfold covering her eyes—revealing the Mystic Eyes bestowed by the Rider Card.
"Then I won't hold back anymore!"
Her pupils contracted into sharp, rectangular shapes—and a torrent of magical energy crashed downward toward Bazett.
"What—!?"
Bazett's body suddenly felt heavy, her limbs sluggish. She immediately shifted into a defensive stance.
"A Mystic Eye—!? No, this power—it's gem-class! No, beyond that—treasure-class!?"
In the hierarchy of Mystic Eyes, gem-class artifacts were rare enough to be hidden away by the Lords themselves.
Such eyes possessed mysteries that no modern magecraft could ever reproduce—the authority of gods.
Bazett's analysis was right on point.
The Petrifying Eyes of Medusa were indeed a manifestation of divine power—the eyes of a goddess.
And being a seasoned fighter, Bazett quickly pieced together the rest.
This girl wasn't using her Mystic Eyes to kill—but to bind her prey.
Her true strike was yet to come.
In Miyu's hand appeared something she hadn't held while riding Pegasus earlier—a short, gleaming golden rein.
"Nnnghh!"
Pegasus reared, lowering its head. Its once-gentle eyes now burned with savage fury, muscles coiling like thunderclouds ready to burst.
The sight of her fallen friends had ignited every spark of anger in Miyu's heart.
All that remained was the will to annihilate.
And Rider's Noble Phantasm was more than capable of wiping the entire battlefield from existence.
If she'd moved fast enough, Bazett could have escaped the Einzbern manor courtyard and avoided Miyu's attack entirely.
But Miyu had already anticipated that.
The instant Bazett even thought of retreating, Miyu's Mystic Eyes flared—binding her in place.
It wasn't enough to turn her fully to stone, but it drastically weakened her mobility.
Now, Bazett was nothing more than a fixed target.
"Pegasus's power is increasing—again!?"
From the ground, Illya and Ruby stared wide-eyed, astonished at the magnitude of Miyu's control over the Class Card.
The Pegasus climbed higher and higher, until it vanished completely from view.
To Bazett, who stood amid the wrecked garden, the creature had become a mere white dot against the sky.
Then, like a falling star, it arced across the heavens and began its devastating descent.
Miyu urged it on, transforming Pegasus into a streaking arrow of light, picking up even more speed.
Her goal was singular.
Her target absolute.
—To erase her enemy, along with the entire Ainsworth manor beneath her.
"No, Lady Miyu! Don't—don't use a Noble Phantasm on her!"
The sapphire wand, Sapphire, cried out in warning.
But it was too late.
Miyu could no longer stop herself.
"Riding Noble Phantasm—!"
Her voice rang clear through the burning air. She poured her will into the words that would unseal a miracle.
"—Reins of the Chariot!!"
The sky itself seemed to tear open.
No thunder rolled—yet it was as if divine lightning had struck the earth.
An attack that carried not the property of lightning, yet possessed its judgment.
A blow of divine punishment, descending from the heavens.
And yet, in Bazett's eyes, there was no fear.
No hesitation.
Only clarity.
"I've been waiting…"
Her right hand—heavy, restrained by the petrification—moved at last, trembling but determined.
From the discarded backpack beside her, something clicked—a silver sphere shot out and floated above her palm.
"For this exact moment."
The air exploded. Magic flared outward from Bazett in a violent shockwave, twisting the wind into a storm of mana.
"Now!"
The seal broke.
The true form of her weapon awakened.
A white flash lanced downward—the light of Miyu's Pegasus—and yet Bazett did not move an inch.
"That's… a sword? A silver sword!?"
Chloe, her eyesight sharper than anyone's, was the first to notice it.
A gleam of silver had formed above Bazett's right fist.
But Miyu, engulfed in the radiance of her own Noble Phantasm, couldn't hear her.
Runes etched themselves into the blade—Celtic sigils glowing red-hot.
Bazett gripped it tightly, her stance unyielding, the sword aimed straight at the descending meteor.
The Pegasus's light bore down like a river of radiance, ready to obliterate all in its path.
Facing the blow that could shatter the entire courtyard to dust, Bazett did not flinch.
The wind whipped her hair upward.
Behind her, Illya caught a glimpse of something dark staining Bazett's neck—blood.
"Blood…?"
Illya struggled to rise, but Miyu was already diving—too fast to stop.
Bazett's voice rang out, calm and steady amid the chaos.
"These runic gauntlets,"
"This perfected martial art,"
"This body, hardened to endure any strike…"
"None of them exist to defeat an enemy."
"They exist—"
Her body coiled like a bow at full draw. Every muscle, every breath focused into a single point.
"—to deliver this one blow!"
The bullet was loaded.
The trigger was pulled.
Time itself stopped.
Every thought, every movement in the world froze—not because of Miyu's light, but because of Bazett's counterattack.
Her sword didn't shine as brilliantly as Pegasus, but Noble Phantasms were never about who shone brighter.
They were about the mystery they embodied.
And the weapon in Bazett's hand was none other than the sword of the Celtic war god himself.
"The Sword that Slays the God of War—!!!"
Fragarach.
The Sword of Reversal. The Blade that Slays Before the Strike.
According to legend, the sword would leap from its sheath on its own—striking down the foe before their attack could even begin.
Its name meant "Retaliator."
A weapon that rewrote causality itself, ensuring the counter would always strike first.
The perfect anti-supremacy armament.
The ultimate counterattack.
And the moment Bazett unleashed Fragarach, the battle was already decided.
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