Several days had passed since the summoning ritual. The Millennium Castle Fortress, where the "Black" faction was holed up, stood quietly under the tranquil Romanian sunlight.
They knew the enemy faction had also summoned seven Servants.
No conflict had broken out yet; the current situation was one of mutual, tense vigilance and a thorough wait-and-see approach.
A peaceful time flowed by. But everyone understood. This calm atmosphere was merely a façade, and beneath the surface, a fierce information war was being waged. It was only a stage prior to the exchange of brute force, and one handled almost exclusively by Caster and Darnic—a task unrelated to the other Masters and Servants under their command.
Thus, during these past few days, the Masters and Servants had each been spending their time freely.
This brief period before full-scale conflict began was an important time for Masters and Servants to get to know one another.
Darnic welcomed Lancer as a king and performed the rites of a vassal. Roche revered Caster as his teacher, striving diligently to absorb his techniques and philosophies without omission. Celenike, while exasperated by Rider's excessively strong curiosity, contemplated how to defile his lovely appearance. Gordes forbade Saber from opening his mouth. Saber accepted this. They had chosen to maintain a relationship of master and servant from start to finish, without exchanging words. Fiore's younger brother, Caules, was valiantly trying to communicate with Berserker somehow. Given Berserker's low Mad Enhancement rank, communication might be possible.
And Fiore was—
"You really are a puzzling person, aren't you?"
She still couldn't understand Archer.
Their relationship was good. Archer was sarcastic, and occasionally she caught glimpses of a childish side, but that very humanity was pleasing to Fiore. If he were a king like Lancer, merely being in the same room would have been suffocating, and she'd have been groggy before the fighting even started.
In that regard, Archer was excellent.
He understood the handicap of Fiore's immobile legs and provided appropriate support accordingly. To the extent that she could trust him not just as a Servant, but as an individual, they had exchanged words and striven to understand each other.
Fiore placed her teacup back on the saucer.
A faint aroma of black tea filled the room.
"This tea you brewed is very delicious. The aroma is wonderful too. Where on earth did you learn such skill?"
Fiore was a talented woman of Yggdmillennia and had studied at the Clock Tower in London, which could be called the headquarters of magecraft. Originally, Yggdmillennia was an object of scorn among mages, but until their secession from the Mage's Association—thanks to Darnic having entrenched himself in its upper echelons—their status itself wasn't low.
Because of such circumstances, Fiore knew what truly good tea tasted like.
She had, after all, lived in London, the home of tea. She was confident she had a discerning palate when it came to tea. The level of perfection that even Fiore had to honestly admit was delicious. The procedure was also perfect, a skill only possible from someone who thoroughly understood the quality of the tea leaves.
When Fiore asked with admiration, Archer shrugged and answered.
"Who knows? Unfortunately, I can't recall that either. It's strange, isn't it? Despite having no memory, my body remembers the technique."
"Servants are completed existences. It's only natural you can use all the skills from your lifetime without exception."
Being good at brewing tea wasn't a necessary skill for a Servant, but it was certainly impeccable for having by one's side.
Moreover, this single skill should allow her to narrow down the era Archer lived in.
Tea was introduced to Europe when the trade-prosperous Dutch brought it from China. It entered Britain around the mid-1600s. At first, it spread among royalty and nobility as a medicine, and later, as it became popular among the working class, Britain attained its current status as a tea powerhouse.
In other words, Archer's true identity was narrowed down to a hero from the 17th century or later, after tea was accepted in Europe. I see, that would explain his low parameters. Mystery becomes heavier and stronger with the weight of accumulated history. It made perfect sense by the standards of magecraft that an Archer with shallow history would have low stats.
However, the 17th century was a transitional period where the longbow fell into disuse and muskets began to develop. Certainly, the longbow was superior in power to early muskets, but in an era where firearms were rising to prominence, could one really ascend to the level of a Heroic Spirit through archery alone?
Thinking that far, Fiore suddenly realized.
Perhaps Archer did not become a Heroic Spirit by earning martial fame and gaining people's faith.
Heroic Spirits are basically human souls sublimated to the level of spirits through gaining people's faith.
However, among them are some who became objects of faith not through reverence, but through negative emotions like terror and hatred coming full circle. Great villains who left their names in history, monsters slain by heroes, evil demons, and such fall into this category. Such beings are not proper heroes but fall into the category of "Anti-Heroes."
Perhaps Archer was one. This Holy Grail War, modified by Darnic, made it possible to summon beings who merely possessed the aspect of a hero. The Berserker her younger brother summoned was a typical example. If so, then this Archer might also not be a proper Heroic Spirit.
From the late Middle Ages to the modern era, opportunities for an individual to gain martial fame greatly decreased alongside the development of weapons. However, with the rise of media, opportunities for an individual to achieve infamy increased dramatically. In modern times, it has become an era where villains are closer to the "Throne."
But Fiore watched Archer's back as he put away the tea sweets.
Would this Archer commit evil deeds based on selfish desire?
The answer was no.
Although they had only been together for a few days, she could somewhat sense the kind of person Archer was.
This Archer was not the type to act on self-interest.
While this thought contained a significant amount of wishful thinking—the desire for her Servant not to be such a being—Fiore felt something close to certainty.
Unknowingly, trust for Archer had begun to sprout within Fiore.
Sinking into her sea of thoughts, she brought the tea Archer had brewed to her lips.
Instantly, the rich aroma spreading in her mouth made her head spin slightly. It felt as if she were warming up from the inside, vitality welling forth.
To think one could feel such euphoria from tea.
For Fiore, it was a first experience.
"The term 'Servant' is quite apt. Is your class not actually Butler, instead of Archer?" Fiore said jokingly.
"Hm, perhaps. Vaguely, I feel like I might have played the part of a butler. It's possible that was my position in life."
"Oh? Is that so?"
Fiore was about to say "That's surprising," but it suited him unexpectedly well, so she couldn't get the words out.
"Yeah," Archer acknowledged, while slightly lowering his gaze. "However, when I try to remember that, I feel somewhat unpleasant… It must be the kind of thing I want to keep sealed away, at least within myself."
"Is that so? I'm sorry."
"No, it's not for you to apologize for. By the way, what are you doing there?"
Archer looked towards where Fiore was holding some cloth and polishing something.
"This? I'm taking care of my pendant."
The pendant Fiore wore around her neck was usually hidden inside her clothes. Hence, Archer hadn't noticed its existence until this very moment.
The pendant Fiore held up to show him had a vivid, large, burning red gem at the end of a silver chain. The palm-sized ruby was in the shape of an inverted triangle with a gentle curve.
"That gem is…"
Archer's eyes widened slightly, a rare occurrence. It was only for a very brief moment before his stern, stoic expression returned.
"Is something about this gem?"
"No, I'd just heard that Caster desired many gems. I simply thought such things had been requisitioned."
Archer said this somewhat quickly, as if covering up. Fiore, not noticing this change in Archer, nodded.
"I see. This was among the gems my uncle procured for Caster. I liked it, so I insisted and had him give it to me."
She must have liked it a great deal. Fiore stroked the surface of the pendant affectionately before hanging it around her neck and tucking it inside her clothes. She had cast a spell on it, imbuing it with protective power. It was clearly a means to satisfy both her rationality as a mage—the thought that it might be somewhat useful in future battles against mages—and her girlish longing for precious jewelry.
Meanwhile, Archer wore a solemn expression upon hearing Fiore's answer.
"…I see. So that's how it is."
Perhaps he had his own thoughts on the matter, but he didn't pry any further.
Fiore found this puzzling.
"Could it be you don't care for gems?"
"No. I don't particularly like or dislike them. I have no interest in shiny things."
"I see."
To cling to precious metals even after becoming a Heroic Spirit would seem rather greedy. Since this Archer didn't seem attached to money, he was probably like that in life too, she mused, letting her thoughts wander to his past.
Whether it was lack of desire or simply being plain and honest...
She still couldn't quite grasp what this Archer wanted.
"Ah…"
Fiore let out a small sound.
"Hm? What is it?"
Archer addressed Fiore, who was looking embarrassed as if she'd done something foolish, her face turning red.
"No, it's nothing," Fiore shook her head as if to brush it off. "It's just, I hadn't asked about your wish for this Holy Grail War."
Just as Fiore had a wish for the Grail, Archer must have one too. The Servants summoned in a Holy Grail War were basically composed of such individuals.
"A wish upon the Holy Grail, you mean?"
"Yes."
Fiore nodded and waited for Archer's next words.
"My memory is hazy, so I have no wish or anything…"
Archer muttered troubledly and gave a wry smile.
"However, as long as you are here, you have the right to have your wish granted by the Grail. Of course, that's only after we successfully obtain the Grail, but if you have no wish at that time, wouldn't that be a problem?"
She was fully aware that Archer had no memory. But that was problematic. As partners, they needed to have firm goals. Fiore wanted the Holy Grail at all costs. She wanted to heal her immobile legs and stand firmly upon the earth. But if Archer's motivation was low, that wish couldn't be fulfilled.
"Even so. I truly have no wish to entrust to the Grail. Regardless of my memory, I believe I would have answered that I have no wish."
"A Servant with no wish? Surely everyone answers the summoning because they have a wish they want the Grail to fulfill?"
"Not necessarily," Archer denied. "Even those with no particular interest in the Grail may answer the summons. For example, some might respond to fight more powerful enemies, while others might simply want to enjoy a second life. In the end, it depends on the individual."
"I see," Fiore was convinced by Archer's explanation. Most Servants summoned in a Holy Grail War are world-famous martial figures. Such individuals probably answer the summons purely wishing to compete in martial prowess. That was certainly a convincing story.
"Now I'm suddenly very interested in your wish. You have no prayer for the Grail, yet you don't seem to have lived as a martial figure either. Just what wish would you entrust to the Grail? …Even if you have no memory, it's fine. What you wish for now is more important. Could you tell me?"
"That's a rather difficult request."
"But I told you my wish. It's unbalanced if I don't know yours."
Seeing Fiore speak with a slight pout, Archer sighed. Her words seemed reasonable, and there was no point in staying silent after being pressed this far. Even though he truly had no great wish.
"Well then. If I must say…"
As if resigning himself, Archer sighed. Then, with a somewhat triumphant face, he voiced his wish.
"How about… world peace?"
"Ugh, that Uncle Gordes, really!"
This happened the day after Archer stated his tentative wish. Snorting with anger, Fiore returned to her room. Pushing the wheelchair was, of course, the role of Archer, who was closest to her.
The uncharacteristic look of pent-up frustration on Fiore's face stemmed from an encounter a few minutes earlier in the hallway with Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia, Saber's Master.
"Just because he managed to summon an excellent Saber, he's acting so high and mighty. Yes, that must be it!"
Simply put, her Servant had been looked down upon. It wasn't said directly, of course, but factoring in Archer's characteristics, he implied things like "Leave the Holy Grail War to us," and "Just have Archer stay in the rear; victory is assured."
"Now, now, no need to get so worked up. He was always that type of person."
"Doesn't it bother you at all?"
"What can be done? What he said is true."
Fiore grew even more displeased that Archer so readily acknowledged Gordes's words.
"Saber is the vanguard. I am the rearguard. There's nothing strange about that. If I take down the enemies he fails to finish off, the Holy Grail War will be settled sooner."
Unable to grasp Archer's meaning, Fiore's mind went blank for a second. Then, with a look of disbelief, she spoke.
"You mean… you'll defeat the enemies that Saber cannot?"
"If I don't do at least that much, I won't be able to wipe that smug look off his face."
Fiore looked at Archer with a surprised expression.
"Could it be… you're actually quite angry?"
"I'm not so petty as to be offended by something of that level."
Even as he said this, the atmosphere emanating from Archer clearly indicated he was displeased.
Fiore found this Archer amusing and burst out laughing.
"What is it?"
"Sorry, it's nothing."
In the past few days, the relationship between Fiore and Archer had become very good.
The awe she felt towards great heroes before the summoning, and the disappointment she felt immediately after, were both gone from Fiore now. Enough time had passed to accept the fact that she had summoned this Archer, and she had interacted with his character enough to treat him more as an individual than a familiar. Thus, exchanging smiles and light banter had become commonplace.
"Still, to be employed by a Master of that caliber… that great hero is rather pitiable."
"Archer. Don't tell me you know Saber's True Name?"
Only Darnic and Lancer should know Saber's True Name. Although they were in the same faction, Gordes refused to reveal the name, stating that disclosure would be fatal.
As a result, there were two Servants within the "Black" faction whose True Names were unknown: Saber and Archer.
"I don't know his True Name, but I can make an educated guess. My specialty is analyzing bladed weapons. I analyzed the great sword he carried during the summoning."
"Wha…"
Fiore was speechless.
Analysis magecraft is relatively basic. Fiore, who specialized in a specific field, was not proficient in many magecrafts, but even she could use analysis. However, she would never think to analyze something on the level of a Noble Phantasm. The level of mystery was too different. Her brain might get fried the moment she tried.
Yet, Archer had made it possible. Moreover, from his tone, it seemed he had even deduced the True Name.
"Why didn't you say so sooner?"
"I judged it should be kept secret until we reached a stage where we could communicate properly. I couldn't just toss a spark into a relationship where we couldn't even have a proper discussion."
The "spark" probably referred to relations with Gordes.
If Fiore knew Saber's True Name, Gordes wouldn't be happy. It seemed he couldn't speak carelessly until that information was gathered and he came to know Fiore's character.
Interpersonal relationships between Masters were also a factor to consider in this Holy Grail War.
"So we needed to ensure Uncle Gordes doesn't find out."
"Indeed."
"Then, just who is the True Name of that Saber Uncle Gordes summoned?"
Fiore asked Archer again.
She was interested in Saber's identity. A swordsman with parameters not inferior to Lancer—Vlad III—who had the highest fame bonus. A legend so potent that revealing his True Name was said to be fatal. And this was the moment her own Servant had shown his ability for the first time. Hence, she wanted to hear Saber's true identity.
"It's merely an inference from the sword, is that acceptable?"
"Perfectly acceptable."
Seeing Fiore nod her head, Archer answered.
"That sword is the holy sword passed down by the Nibelungs, the Demonic Sword of Salvation, Balmung. Given its wielder has a clear weakness recorded in legend, there's only one person it could be."
"The Dragon Slayer of the Netherlands—Siegfried."
Following Archer's words, Fiore spoke Saber's True Name aloud. Then, the great awe welling up from within her chest made her feel like she couldn't breathe.
Siegfried.
The dragon-slaying swordsman, said to share origins with Sigurd from Norse mythology.
It is said that when he slew the evil dragon Fafnir, he bathed in its blood, gaining an invulnerable body.
If that were the case, it was understandable why Gordes was reluctant to reveal the True Name. Siegfried possessed a body like steel that repelled any attack, but this defense did not extend to his back. This was because a linden leaf stuck to his back while he was bathing in the dragon's blood, preventing the blood from reaching that spot. The hero Siegfried's end came from a treacherous blade striking him in the back.
He had summoned such a great hero in the Saber class. Gordes's confidence was not mere vanity, but based on the fact that he had summoned the strongest Servant.
"Well then, the fact that I have discerned Saber's True Name should probably be reported to Lancer."
"Why is that?"
"Is he not our king? For someone of unknown identity like me to win his trust, I must make the effort to disclose information proactively."
"I see. Yes, you're right. Let's do that then."
Convinced, Fiore pictured their upcoming schedule in her head.
She would have to be careful not to run into Gordes and try to gauge when Lancer was in a good mood. If necessary, she could always have Archer brew some tea.
Thinking such thoughts, Fiore reached for the wheels of her wheelchair.