Saber dashed through the forest, her heart burning with urgency. That despicable Caster had declared he'd kill one child for every hundred seconds that passed. Saber had no doubt he was serious.
Counting the seconds in her mind, it had been around 100 seconds since the first child was killed when suddenly—
Caster's projection appeared before her.
That smirking face, eyes gleaming with malice.
"My beloved holy maiden. Another hundred seconds have passed. How tragic that you're still not ready to meet me. Alas, with great sorrow, I must now send another lamb to the Lord."
He reached beneath his robes and snatched up a small child trying to escape—the escape attempt futile, as Caster had already sealed the area with magic.
The girl struggled in his grasp, her face twisted in fear.
"Caster! I'm almost there! If you dare—"
"Too bad. I just love watching that helpless, begging expression on your face."
Caster clenched his hand slightly.
But then—a strange thing happened.
His spell should've torn the child apart and summoned a tentacled beast from her ruined body. But no matter how much strength he used, the girl only cried from the pain. The horrific bloodbath he expected never occurred.
"Wha—?! What the—?! Curse that meddling God, are You interfering again?!"
Clutching his head in madness, he screamed.
"Indeed! This is the end for you, foul demon!!"
A crimson-armored knight suddenly appeared behind Caster, sword pointed at him with righteous fury.
That stance, that voice…
Saber found the scene disturbingly familiar.
"Mordred, you—!!"
Saber rushed to the scene, warily eyeing the red knight.
"Tch, and you just got here? If not for me, these hostages would all be corpses by now. Honestly, how useless can you be, Father?"
"Shut up, you insolent child!"
Instinct took over. Saber rebuked Mordred even as she moved to cut off Caster's escape.
"Curse you all!!"
Enraged, Caster raised his twisted tome—Prelati's Spellbook—and summoned dozens of tentacle monsters.
He pointed directly at Saber.
"If the Holy Maiden will not awaken… then allow me to 'educate' her personally. GO!!"
The monsters shrieked as they surged forward, some toward Mordred, most targeting Saber.
"Begone, evil!!"
Bathed in mana, Saber's invisible sword gleamed with power. She slashed through the monsters like slicing through paper.
Mordred needed even less effort. As a full Heroic Spirit forcibly dragged out by Dracula himself, she made short work of the lesser beasts summoned by these divided fragments of other Heroic Spirits.
Still, perhaps driven by sibling rivalry—or spite—Mordred wiped out her attackers with two casual swings, then smugly glanced at Saber.
Saber, fending off her own monsters, caught the look from the corner of her eye. Her anger boiled over. With renewed strength, she cleaved through two more beasts—
Only to be caught off-guard by a tentacle wrapping around her sword arm from behind.
"Damn it—!"
Just as panic surged through her—
A streak of red and gold light flashed by.
The ever-flamboyant Diarmuid, dual-wielding spears, arrived in style. With a swift shot, he severed the tentacle binding Saber.
"That was unsightly, Saber. If your swordsmanship can't instill awe, then the name of the King of Knights will cry in shame."
He said it with a dazzling smile that would've made any ordinary woman blush.
Instead, he earned Mordred's inexplicable hostility.
"Hey! You random disaster of a man—where the hell did you come from? Who asked for your help?"
Mordred glared at him, voice dripping with disdain.
"Silence! Lancer may be my enemy, but he just helped me."
Saber once again rebuked Mordred. "As a knight, no matter what, you should offer him your gratitude."
Seeing this group casually chatting as if he didn't exist—especially that man over there with two spears, who was not only more handsome than him but also standing so intimately close to the Holy Maiden—Caster couldn't hold back his fury any longer.
"Damn you all—aaaargh!!"
But suddenly, a familiar voice echoed in the air.
"Gilles."
"Huh? That voice... Jeanne?"
Caster turned toward the voice, and there, standing proud and valiant, was the goddess who haunted his dreams—Jeanne d'Arc—staring at him with eyes full of disappointment.
A critical hit.
Caster glanced at the disappointed Jeanne, then at the furious Saber. Clutching his head, he shrieked, "Aaaagh! Two Jeannes!? How!? What the hell!? Gyaaaa, my brain's shaking!"
He let out a twisted laugh, then vanished into mist.
Saber raised her sword to give chase, but from Jeanne's direction, a male voice called out:
"There's no need. That wasn't his true body—just a projection. He's gone."
Dracula and Nero had appeared at Jeanne's side.
"Hmm… So that man is Little Mo's 'Father King'?" Nero looked closely at Saber's face. "She does look quite like me… But this personality? Ugh, totally un-cute."
"You! What kind of monster are you!?" Saber pointed her sword at Nero. "And calling me—the Knight King—cute? Are you insulting me!?"
"No no no, in terms of timeline, it's more like you copied her look." Dracula waved dismissively. "And your personality… She's praising you, yet you still manage to pick a fight? Are you mentally damaged?"
"Why, you…!" Saber turned toward Dracula, ready to scold him—but was abruptly cut off by a furious shout.
"Everyone shut up and listen to me!!"
Mordred raised her hand. "Arthur, I'm telling you—those children may have been rescued, but they still carry the cursed seeds that Caster planted in them. They'll die even if you saved them!"
From her armor, the earnest child pulled out an emblem. Dracula took a glance—it was inscribed with an old mark belonging to Nyarlathotep.
"I've got something here that can purge the seeds from their bodies. So—what do you say? Want it?" Mordred's voice rose with barely suppressed glee.
"If you do, then call me your sweet, good son."
"..."
Dracula fell silent, then muttered to Jeanne and Nero,
"In all my centuries, this is the first time I've ever seen someone make a demand like that…"
"Truly eye-opening…" Nero nodded blankly. "It seems the world really is vast and full of wonders."
And then, something even more incomprehensible happened.
This was a life-or-death situation, and the demand wasn't even unreasonable—it was practically a free win. But without even thinking, the little Knight King flat-out rejected it.
"Never, you unfilial child!" Saber declared righteously. "I will never acknowledge you as my offspring!"
"..." Dracula covered his face with a sigh.
"I see now… I still know far too little. I truly do not understand you Britannian knights."