"What? You're saying the rules of the Holy Grail War have changed? Instead of only seven, it's become a massive free-for-all with fourteen Masters and Servants?!"
Auram had vaguely suspected as much, but hearing Ayaka say it outright still made his head ache.
"Um… Saber, I thought you already knew, so I didn't explain it clearly."
As though afraid of angering him, Ayaka's voice over the phone sounded timid.
"But Servants summoned by the Grail should automatically be granted full knowledge of this War… Could something… have gone wrong with the process?"
'I'd like to know that too!'
Auram had long wanted to complain about this. Wasn't that thing called Alaya supposed to handle this? The guidance had been utterly useless! Since arriving in this world, he hadn't felt any hint of guidance—he'd been fumbling entirely on his own.
"Forget it… if it's just an increase in participants, that's still manageable."
"Still, our strategy will need to change accordingly… Ayaka, let's discuss it properly once we're back home."
"Mm!"
—Boom!
Just as Auram hung up, a thunderous explosion shook the ground.
"Who dares touch the King without permission, mongrel?!"
Gilgamesh's furious roar split the air, mana exploding wildly around him and dragging Auram's attention back to the battlefield.
The night sky blazed like day under a flood of golden light.
The Gate of Babylon had opened once more.
However, this time, the countless golden ripples weren't aimed at Ramesses II. Their target was a jet-black knight.
Berserker!
Though his face was hidden by black armor, Auram knew well this maddened knight—Lancelot.
Judging by Gilgamesh's reaction, Berserker must have ambushed him while Auram was on the phone with Ayaka.
"Hmph. Man without light, you've dampened my spirits."
Though Berserker's target was Gilgamesh alone, Ramesses II was no less displeased at his intrusion upon the kings' duel.
With a wave of his hand, one of his sphinxes leapt from the solar ship, charging straight at Berserker.
"Oh? Isn't it a bit much for kings to team up two against one?"
Abruptly, then, to Ramesses II's surprise, the one who stepped before Berserker was the red-caped giant.
"You… King of Conquerors?" Ramesses frowned. "I never expected you to side with this mad dog."
"Well…"
The towering man scratched his cheek awkwardly and chuckled.
"Berserker himself doesn't matter much. Regardless, as a spectator, I've been itching to test myself against you. Since we're both Riders this time, surely you also want to see who's the strongest Rider of this War… don't you, Pharaoh?"
"Hahaha! Interesting—I accept your challenge!"
As the two Riders clashed, Artoria kept careful watch on the shifting battle.
The moment she noticed the black-armored knight, her eyes changed.
His face was hidden, yet the way he swung his sword… it felt all too familiar.
That swordsmanship… could it be him?!
As Artoria, who had chosen the lance in this worldline, her temperament was more mature than her sword-wielding self. She bore less attachment to Britain's fall or its past glories.
Yet, when it came to comrades who had once fought by her side—that was different.
Especially that knight, whose memory she still could not lay to rest.
"The Holy Grail War truly is strange…"
Caressing her lance, Artoria murmured.
This feast that drew heroes across ages together was bound to cause such encounters. Though the past could not be undone, she wished she could speak again with that knight, apart from old positions and obligations.
Of course, that depended on whether he, as Berserker, retained the reason to converse.
"Irisviel, I want to meet that Berserker. There's something I must confirm."
"Hm? Could it be someone Lancer knows?"
When Artoria only nodded, Irisviel smiled gently.
"It really is a miraculous fate~ Go on, then."
"Irisviel, what about you…"
"I'll be fine."
She winked playfully.
"It's not that far, and I'm not that weak~"
"Then be careful. I'll be right back."
Despite saying she was fine, Irisviel's heart stirred as she watched Artoria's back vanish into the fray.
"So this is a battle between Servants…"
The theory she had studied before departure was nothing like the reality before her eyes.
Even with all the Einzbern preparations, even with summoning the legendary King Arthur using the sheath of the Holy Sword, the Grail War brimmed with Heroic Spirits no less famous than Artoria—Iskandar, Ramesses II, Gilgamesh… And with the Church's last-minute announcement that the roster had expanded to fourteen, the competition would be fiercer than ever.
"No doubt… this will be an exceptionally brutal War."
Although outwardly calm, Irisviel was in truth a homunculus, created by the Einzberns for the Grail War.
Her very birth was for the sake of securing the Grail for her family.
Anyhow, artificial though she was, she still had humanity. Since meeting Kiritsugu Emiya, she had developed small personal desires. She had found, for the first time, a family of her own.
Even her newborn daughter, Illya, had already been woven into the elders' calculations. As one of the oldest magus families, the Einzberns always left themselves insurance. Illya was to be their backup, in case this War once again failed.
"If only… Illya didn't have to inherit this sorrowful cycle…"
Thinking of her beloved daughter left behind in the castle, a smile slipped onto Irisviel's lips.
Even if her fate was sealed, she wished only for Illya to live a peaceful, happy life.
'Yes—even a homunculus like me has something I want to protect.'
'For Illya's sake, I must win this War for the Einzberns!'
"Mommy~"
Suddenly, a soft girl's voice reached Irisviel's ears.
"Huh?"
For a moment, Irisviel thought she had imagined it.
Had she missed Illya so much she was hallucinating her voice?
"Mommy~~"
"?!"
No, it wasn't an illusion.
Looking down, Irisviel saw a silver-haired little girl tugging gently at her skirt.
She was tiny, more child than girl—about Illya's age, with short silver hair that even resembled hers.
"Oh dear, where did this child come from? How did she get here?!"
Overcome by motherly longing, Irisviel failed to notice how unnatural the sight was.
Not until she heard the shout—
"Stay away from that child!!!"
"Huh?"
But by the time Irisviel reacted, it was too late.
Mist surged.
In an instant, an abnormal fog rose from every side, closing in around her.
Within the thick haze, the world blurred away. Only the girl's crimson eyes gleamed coldly in the mist.
"This place is Hell. We are flame, rain, strength—slaughter descends here."
"Maria the Ripper!"
...
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