Trigger Warning: Moments, even entire pages of descriptive imagery of extreme violence, injuries, body horror and more in this chapter are spread throughout.

He was somewhere else.

A dark abyss.

Perception was warped and distorted, almost zooming in and zooming out to the point of incoherence. The void seemed to stretch on forever, with no end in sight. The darkness felt oppressive. All that existed was an endless void, a place of despair and hopelessness.

The other sects thought of it as a shell shaped like one. Ancient beyond belief. Shards of crystalized space split where it's been ripped up, revealing imaginary space and cosmic ooze poking through.

He was so small that he could barely see the possible curvature. If it had one. Maybe even bigger. He could feel its immense power, like a force pulling and pushing him.

The space felt like it was made of a smooth material, crystalline in nature as it reflected the fractals of what is perceived as reality.

He couldn't look at himself. Not a mana-shaped facsimile of a body here. Stripped of even a nervous system, strapped in place. Just his spirit core.

Like a diagram of a brain on a pike, it was a winding of magic circuits and ether stretched out across in the shape of a man I'm an exploded view

It was –

It was grotesque.

The most grotesque thing among even in his memories as an Hassan he ever saw.

To some of his personalities, it was horrific.

From the more academic personalities it was fascinating.

Streams of magical power roiled off it, stretching up into a tree that resembled electrical signals. The mystical programming unspools, developing itself, expanding. The signals grow more and more complex, more and more layered that keep buzzing.

Where is it here?

What do you want?

Why did you build this?

What went wrong?

Where is everything?

The memories of loss, of pain, of the desire to be the one that kept him from dwindling down into nothing.

After a heartbeat, he gets the impression of a woman smiling at you. The impression of another apathetically studying him.

Kirei Kotomine was the son of Risei Kotomine, as a gift for a pilgrimage.

Kirei.

A word of prayer, as Risei named him such so that he would grow up to be pure and beautiful.

He made sure to raise Kirei with a strong sense of virtue and purpose, preparing him for a life of greatness.

Risei believed that the power of prayer could grant his son the qualities he sought. He worked hard to teach Kirei the importance of hard work and humility, and to remind him that no matter what comes his way, he should always strive to do what is right.

He grew up according to Risei's expectations, showing morals and good sense from a young age, and was insightful enough to seem precocious to others. He has been actively involved with the Church since his youth, and he often accompanied his father to holy grounds. He worked diligently as an Executor-in-training from an early age, and he was once chosen as an Executor around the age of ten.

So it could be said that he had a head for strategy at least at the most basic level.

He was still reeling from what he had seen, though the confusion was more strategic than just pure bewilderment.

As per the last images that he gained through the eyes of one of the many personalities of his Assassin Servant flashed through his consciousness before he lost it no matter how much he tried to 'reconnect', he meticulously analyzed the events, searching for any possible insights that could shed light on what had occurred.

Daring maneuvers and calculated strikes, what would be considered blatantly superhuman physical prowess and agility, powerful magecraft and pure skill ? Supernatural senses of Proprioception for other bodies ? Or perhaps a combination of all the above? Whatever it is, in any other situation, for any other person, it would have been a sight to behold.

For him and his situation it was dangerous.

But as Kirei delved deeper into what he could of his Servant(s) memories, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him. There were gaps in the information, moments when Assassin's vision of his target had been obscured.

Despite how much the situation should have caused him frustration, Kirei remained calm and composed, piecing together the fragments of information he had gathered. He pondered the implications, considering the possibility that he was either a more reckless Master who had a Servant of his own granting him supernatural abilities and strength, a random spellcaster or (based on what he had just seen) more than just a mere mortal.

As Kirei prepared to report his findings to his father, Risei Kotomine, and his mentor, Tokiomi Tohsaka, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this enigmatic figure than meets the eye.

In the dimly lit study, Kirei stood with a stoic expression. As he recounted the events of the previous night, his words held a measured tone.

"Father, Master," Kirei began, his voice steady. "Last night, one of the many aspects of my Servant, encountered a mysterious individual during his reconnaissance mission in Fuyuki"

Risei listened intently, his face a mask of serene composure as he absorbed Kirei's report. There was a subtle curiosity in his gaze, tempered by the wisdom of years as he explained how some in a Batsuit galavanting on the rooftops somehow detected his Servant despite their supernatural stealth*He fought off and permanently took down numerous shades of them with a single wide ranging attack and disappeared with one.

Kirei's lips twitched imperceptibly, a fleeting moment of satisfaction flickering across his face before he reined in his emotions.

"From what the other aspects of Assassin observed from the shadows, this figure displayed remarkable agility and combat prowess," Kirei continued, his voice tinged ... with a hint of intrigue? "He moved with grace and precision that surpassed that of any ordinary man, evading detection."

Risei nodded thoughtfully, processing the information.

Tokiomi, who had been listening quietly, interjected with a note of skepticism. "It seems you have encountered a formidable adversary, Kirei," he remarked, his voice tinged with a hint of doubt. "But could it not be a Servant with exceptional abilities?"

Kirei considered Tokiomi's words carefully, weighing the possibilities in his mind. "It is possible," he conceded, his expression impassive. "The manner in which this individual conducted himself suggests a level of proficiency beyond that of ordinary magic. His movements were calculated, precise, almost... mechanical. But he did not have the presence of one."

"After a moment of reflection," Risei continued, "We should consider contacting the Order of Saint Dumas. I believe their expertise in dealing with the more... "beign" supernatural threats may prove invaluable in this matter."

The Order of Saint Dumas.

A subdivision of the Knights Templar, for their participation in the Crusades for the Holy Land and their success in comparison to their fellows.

Founded in the 13th century by a French knight named Dumas, who claimed to have received divine visions from God. The Order's core belief revolves around the idea that they are the chosen instruments of God, tasked with carrying out his will on Earth. Their mission is to cleanse the world of sin and corruption through violence and terror.

Holy warriors, justified in their actions due to their divine mission.

The prototype Executors of The Church.

They have been silent for a long while but they may still have some clue.

After that report, he spent time researching. It only got all consuming when he received a response from the Order.

Tokiomi has not yet left the basement workshop. Kirei, being the sole occupant of the otherwise empty living room, began to thoroughly read through the report regarding the man dressed as a nocturnal mammal and the latest opponent that seemed to be making his way here, Kiritsugu Emiya.

His thoughts on this "Batman" and his potential involvement in The Holy Grail War, his mind became a whirlwind of analysis and speculation.

A vigilante shrouded in mystery, a shadowy figure lurking in the darkness. His fifteen-year crusade against crime has left an indelible mark on the American Gotham City, his actions both feared and revered by its citizens.

Batman's methods are unorthodox, his tactics unpredictable, yet there is an undeniable efficiency to his approach. He has faced formidable adversaries and emerged victorious time and time again, a testament to his skill and resourcefulness.

And then there is his association with Jason Blood.

A known entity to the Church, a ... man with great power and knowledge, his presence only adds to the enigma surrounding Batman. What secrets do they share, and how do they factor into why he is involved in The Holy Grail War?

As a devout member of the Church, Kirei was well-versed in the occult and the existence of beings beyond the realm of human understanding. The mere mention of Jason Blood, a man intertwined with the demon Etrigan, sparked a flicker of recognition in Kirei's mind. If Batman had indeed crossed paths with such individuals, it hinted at a deeper, more sinister aspect to his crusade.

But despite the tantalizing -stop- possibilities of such a thing, Kirei remained cautious. He knew better than to take anything at face value

What was his agenda?

A variable that cannot easily be quantified or controlled with so little known.

He didn't understand why he had such an intense interest in this. Perhaps it's because he derives some sort of feeling of pleasure from the loathing and irritation placed on his teacher Tokiomi.

The relationship between teacher and student maintained for three years in this house has always had a sense of satire about it.

Leading a long, pious life in the church, yet ending up with nothing in return; because of that, Kirei bet all his hopes on the new study which has exact opposite values to that of the church, that is all. But the result was a complete disaster. In the world of pursuing magecraft, Kirei did not find any enjoyment, nor did he gain anything.

Tokiomi doesn't seem to have noticed Kirei's disappointment at all. Tokiomi's appraisal of and trust in Kirei is exactly the same as Risei's.

He thought, maybe this Batman or Emiya Kiritsugu exists on 'the other side of the line.'.

Tokiomi's more cautious attitude against Emiya Kiritsugu than the Batman seemed to be purely against his title of 'Magus Killer', so this investigation report created at the request of Tokiomi focused on 'his personal history of battles against magi'. Any other record not on this topic was rather simplistic.

But, looking at this man Kiritsugu's experiences in chronological order, Kirei began to gradually gain a belief.

This man's actions contain a high level of risk.

In the era of freelancing assassination before he was taken in by the Einzberns as their son-in-law, Kiritsugu expertly completed countless missions. But the pause between missions was clearly too short. Considering the time he has for preparing and accepting missions, the only possible conclusion is that he is simultaneously executing several plans. And these plans are all parallel; he appears in the conflicts of various areas, and always when the conflict is the most heated, at the point of destruction.

Similar, yet different, to the earlier person of interest. An all encompassing drive.

As if he was suicidal, as if he had some sort of sickness driving him... the principle behind his actions is clearly self-destruction.

Then what do they seek?

"..."

Unconsciously, Kirei put the report aside, propped his lower jaw on his hand, and sank into deep thought.

For now, until the "Mage Killer" made his way , he would focus on the … "Batman".

"The latest report from the 'Clock Tower.' The 'prodigy' Lord El-Melloi seems to have obtained a lost relic for some time. If that's the case, then it is confirmed that he will be participating. Hmph, this is truly a thorny opponent. So it's clear, there are now five known Masters including myself..."

"It really makes me worry that there's still two positions unknown, even now."

"Why, it simply means that there were no suitable bearers for the Command Seals. When time is running out, the Grail would randomly fill the seven slots regardless of quality. For the sake of having enough people, there should be two small characters. There's no need to be alert."

That's really suited to Tokiomi's optimism. Having been his student for three years, Kirei now understands his master very well. Although he's very thorough in preparation, he has a habit of missing small details once in action, and taking care of these small details in his stead is probably his responsibility; Kirei has long since understood this.

"But speaking of being careful - Kirei, nobody saw you as you entered this house, right? In appearance, we're already enemies."

"No need to worry. Regardless of being able to see or not, there are no familiars or spells surveying this house. I —"

"— I guarantee that."

The voice of the third person cut in and, at the same time, a black shadow appeared beside Kirei.

The Servant "Assassin" who made a contract with Kotomine Kirei — Hassan-i Sabbāh.

And then Kirei said,

"As soon as a Grail-summoned Heroic Spirit appears, no matter which Class it belongs to, it would definitely be reported to father accurately and without error."

Father Risei was the supervisor of Heaven's Feel, appointed as the head priest of and dispatched to the Fuyuki Church. Currently, he is in possession of a magical device known as the "spirit board." It has the function of displaying the attributes of the Heroic Spirits summoned by the Grail.

The identity of Masters can only be confirmed by reports from people, but the quantity and Class of appearing Servants, no matter where they are summoned, will definitely be displayed on the "spirit board," to grant the supervisor better control of the situation.

"According to my father, All Servants have been summoned so far."

Compared to the three imperial families, the advantage of foreign magi is that their place of concealment is unknown to others. Because of this, during the early stages of Heaven's Feel, no matter what family it is, they will use spies for reconnaissance.

It's not like Kirei distrusts Tokiomi's information network, it's just that they have to be on guard for the possibility that the remaining two mystery Masters are using wise measures to conceal themselves. If facing an opponent with this kind of strategy, Kirei's Servant Assassin can utilize his powers to the greatest limit.

"You may leave. Assassin, continue keeping watch outside. Be very cautious."

"Understood."

Receiving Kirei's command, Assassin once again assumed spirit form and left the room before he did as well.

As he stood amidst the organized clutter of his basement workshop, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of his arcane experiments. The flickering light of the archaic lab equipment cast eerie shadows on the walls, adding to the atmosphere of quiet contemplation that permeated the room. He was lost in his own thoughts, his thoughts drifting back to the past and the successes he had achieved. He felt a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction, knowing that his hard work had paid off. He was content to sit in his workshop, content in his work.

First, let Kirei's Assassin go around thoroughly investigating the battle strategy of other Masters and their Servants' weaknesses. After obtaining a method of certain victory against each enemy in this manner, Tokiomi's Servant will then be used to defeat each one accordingly.

Originally of humankind but separated from the mortal plane. Elevated to the level of elementals through powers not of men. The place where the supernatural primates gathered… from the Throne of Heroes that had its power of the Gods suppressed, the Heroic Spirits weaved from the dreams of countless ordinary men descended on the earth at the same time.

He could not help but smirk.

The Servant he summoned would certainly be advantageous against all enemies. If it is a Heroic Spirit, then it will have no chance of victory against him.

Despite his student's report, it was inconsequential, as even if it was a case of powerful magecraft or a Servant, it would be nothing against the might of Gilgamesh.

Even if he was summoned in the Archer Class.

He had more immediate concerns as of now.

Fuyuki, the capital city of Hyogo Prefecture, Japan, has a diverse and thriving business and economic sector. It was known for its significant industries such as shipbuilding, manufacturing, and trading, supported by its excellent harbor, transportation system, and robust infrastructure. The city's strong presence in international trade and its network of highways, railways, and an international airport facilitated the efficient movement of goods and people, contributing to its strong economic ties with other major global trading hubs.

And as of recently, the real estate market was quite active with one name responsible. His attention was drawn to a particular piece of news that had caught his interest - rumors of Bruce Wayne purchasing large tracts of land in Fuyuki. The name struck a chord with Tokiomi within him.

He couldn't help but notice the signs of change that were beginning to take shape in the city.

"A Wayne," Tokiomi mused to himself, his lips curling into a faint frown.

Their minds were filled with frustration and humiliation. They had suffered a loss right at the start in their pursuit of the Grail, and their master's lack of ambition only added to their sense of hopelessness. They were condemned to the fate of mere observation, unable to fulfill their true desires.

As they received new orders to stalk their latest opponent, the elusive "Batman", Hundred Faces felt that they had a chance for redemption and a way to let off some frustration. By rectifying their loss to what shouldn't have been an adversary, they could prove their worth and mayhaps gain some knowledge of his ability to use it to their advantage.

Hundred Faces would first gather intelligence on their patterns and routines, studying his every move from a safe distance. Mapping out his nocturnal activities, and identifying potential weaknesses to exploit. Then, with this information, Hundred Faces aimed to devise a calculated strategy to confront Batman, seeking both revenge and a chance at redemption.

That was the plan.

That plan fell apart quite quickly.

For days on every hour in the night, they would disappear the very second they were in Hassan's sight no matter how far, how many or how little he had gone about galavanting across the rooftops.

When they would observe with no intention of movement , they would still disappear. When they thought that if they moved at counterpoint vantages that would be impractical for most humans, he would still disappear.

He would move away whenever they thought of a pincer movement, he would go on ground or possibly underground, whenever they surrounded the rooftops and avoided whatever shadows they hid despite their Presence Concealment.

It became clear that this "Batman" was not an adversary to be underestimated.

Hundred Faces had realized that they would need to reassess their approach and devise a new strategy if they ever hoped to achieve their goals and escape their fate of mere observation.

Despite their efforts to uncover weaknesses, Batman seemed to anticipate their every move, leaving Hundred Faces feeling more frustrated and humiliated.

The rare encounters between Batman and Hundred Faces that occurred, the rare intercede in physical interaction between, when they used less bodies to push their physical capabilities to catch up and he did not disappear played out like a carefully choreographed dance in the darkness of the night. Gymnastic and acrobatic movements to, over and beside rooftops and buildings.

They could not help but stare as with the dim glow of streetlights and the occasional flicker of neon signs as Batman raced across the rooftops his cape billowed behind him as he pushed his body to its limits, accelerating to speeds that would make even the fastest cars jealous. With each leap, the rush of wind against any that were behind before they made a mighty leap turn gilded as he launched himself into the air, his cape unfurling behind him like a pair of wings.

Even as their supernatural abilities allowed them to match Batman move for move, they couldn't help but admit that it was impressive. As he glided between the towering skyscrapers, the whistle of super-fast dirks whizzed past him, each one an increasing close evasion. But he felt his altitude begin to wane.

Just when it seemed like all was at hand, with a flick of his wrist, he fired the device, the steel cable whistling through the air as it latched onto a nearby rooftop and with a sudden jolt, Batman hurtled upwards and as he reached the apex of his ascent, with lightning-fast reflexes, he twisted his body mid-air, lashing out with a powerful kick that sent one of the Assassins tumbling to the ground below.

And with the mana that infused it it made a connection.

But his moment of respite was short-lived as the Assassins closed in, launching a barrage of deadly projectiles in his direction. Batman dodged and weaved through every little nick and cut. Only ... Batman executed a series of calculated acrobatic maneuvers, seamlessly blending dodges, rolls, and spins that could in no way be reflex. Every movement was purposeful and precise, allowing him to evade deadly projectiles.

Only for a return fire in one direction in between the dodges.

Both adversaries moved, with dirks and ... mana infused bat-shaped shurikens (?) flew through the air, cutting the air through a combination of skill, technique, sheer strength and mystic might.

If they did not deflect off each other based on lower strength and more skill, they would shatter the other and cause a mana explosion that blew the rest away.

Despite Hundred Faces' best efforts to ambush Batman, they found themselves repeatedly thwarted by the vigilante's seemingly preternatural ability to anticipate their moves.

Surveillance did not work.

Outright attacks were avoided, deflected or predicted.

How?

How?

HOW?

Before it could be excused as it was mighty magecraft and large area based attacks that luck reached them.

This is ...

No more.

Reaching deep within, they brought their numbers to bear.

Attrition it was.

A launch of a dozen dirks and as he dodged those and the attempted tackle that followed they continued their pursuit.

They realized that attrition was their best chance at overwhelming the vigilante and forcing him into a vulnerable position. With a coordinated launch of dirks and a relentless pursuit, they hoped to finally gain the upper hand in their relentless pursuit of revenge and redemption.

They would not stop.

They would NOT stop.

And it worked!

He would slow down here and there.

He would nearly slip.

A nick here. A nick there that bled off all momentum due to their strength. Each nick and cut inflicted by Hundred Faces drained him of his energy, causing him to slow down and stumble.

As soon as they made it to the top of a high rise they almost surrounded him.

As night wore on and dawn approached, when it seemed that their relentless pursuit began to wear down their opponent in terms of sheer stamina, the first light of day was breaking over the horizon.

They soon realized how exposed they were.

Even if they could kill him, Hassan must never be seen. An Assassin of the Hassan must never be caught. As a Servant for their Master plan to succeed they could not expose their ability,and as they faded away the Batman disappeared into the shadows, leaving Hundred Faces to ponder their failure.

They have shown physical superiority and they were not the one wounded this time but it was on just.

And what assassin worth his ilk betted on their combat prowess and their target still was not dead?

Gotham City

He almost signed at how the boardroom table was almost encompassed with men heads full of gray hair. Some of these men were decades older than him. He was one of the youngest people in the room. He couldn't help but feel that the hippies might be right about old men in power. He looked down at the paper in front of him and took a deep breath.

It could also just be his (hidden) annoyance at having to deal with them.

As the board members situated themselves at the table, an occasional glance in the direction of where Bruce would normally be as they did so, they kept up their conversation until Lucius Fox headed for the head of the table, taking a seat there.

He cleared his throat and said, "It's a pleasure to have you all here." The board members were silent as they waited for what Lucius had to say. He cleared his throat again and said, "Unfortunately, Bruce won't be joining us today as he is still settling business aboard." He slowly looked at them before he continued, "In his absence, I will handle any issues that may arise," he said. The board nodded in agreement, and they moved on to the meeting.

In front of his seat with him was a stack of folders, one of which lay in front of him wide open. "First thing I would like to discuss today is the current Wayne Aerospace project, WE#52. According to the brief I have, we're about to miss a deadline and we're over-budget. I want to know what's going on."

Immediately, a man sitting a couple of seats ahead spoke up. "We've encountered complications with the cooling system. The propulsion systems and computers are running too hot and require a much larger coolant injection mechanism than we are physically able to use."

Fox looked at the file before him. "So there's a problem with the propulsion. Have you figured out where it is?"

"We're running diagnostics on the circuitry," the board member replied. "The problem doesn't seem to be there nor in the programs. We'll be checking the air vents next."

"So you're not sure," Fox summed up. "Unacceptable." The coldness in it was just as abrupt.

The man shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "Unless we consider increasing the size of the engine so we can just upgrade to the larger coolant pump, we're stuck at this crawl."

"But if we enlarge the engine, we'll have to rebuild it from scratch and go further beyond the budget."

"That's the only choice we have at the moment and while I would rather not have to rebuild the entire thing, it does have to be an option."

Fox grimaced before flipping the folder shut. "Find the problem and fix it quickly. You have until the end of the week; any further and we'll have no more time to further develop it."

Lifting another file from the pile, Fox opened it and scanned it quickly before saying, "Next is Lexcorp. I believe the latest proposal leaves much to be desired. According to my briefing, Luthor is still aggressively pushing this and is willing to sweeten the deal for us."

"We are doing too well with Applied Sciences to consider selling," one of the members said, an old man that looked as if he were on the verge of collapsing.

"They have nothing to offer us," the man continued, "and they've always had a history of shady accounting practices."

"They still hold some prospective accounts we can't look away from," a rather attractive woman interjected. As if to say that the Wayne Enterprises Board of Directors wasn't completely full of old fossils. "It would give us some insight into their finances and a profitable sum."

"Bruce Wayne doesn't want anything to do with us," the old man retorted snidely. "He hasn't since that failed energy project in Metropolis." At this he paused before looking down the table at him. "No offense."

Lucius nonchalantly waved it off. "None taken."

"Need I remind you? We missed a chance at obtaining some lucrative opportunities when Pan Am went down," the woman pressed. "We shouldn't miss this opportunity again."

"I say we at least look at their new proposal," another, much younger man voiced.

"...," Fox stayed silent. "A vote will be held next week, so I strongly encourage all members to look over the proposal closely." Once more, he flipped the file shut and set it away. Reaching for the next folder, he opened it, glanced at it,paused for a noticeable amount of time and then said, "Our next order of business are some interesting projects Mr. Wayne has sent over."

As Kayneth Archibald El-Melloi strode through the opulent halls of the Fuyuki Hyatt Hotel, his finely tailored coat billowing behind him, his expression was one of barely contained annoyance.

His participation in the War was merely to increase his own prominence within the Mage's Association. His base of operations at the Fuyuki Hyatt Hotel is on the hotel's thirty-second floor and protected by twenty-four layers of bounded barriers, a countless amount of summoned monsters, various traps, and mystical spatial alterations in the lobby.

It was bad enough that he had been forced to attend this insipid gathering of mages and nobles, but now he discovered that this hotel's accommodations had been under the control of none other than the upstart Bruce Wayne.

The Lord of the Department of Mineralogy at the Clock Tower, and a lecturer in the Department of Spiritual Evocation. He was the youngest lecturer to grace the podium of the Department of Evocation in its history. He has an ancient magical lineage that goes back over nine generations.

He obtained the rank of Pride in his teens, and was the youngest person to ever reach the rank of Brand. Although the El-Melloi faction has many powerful branch families besides the Archibalds, Kayneth swept aside the competition and inherited the El-Melloi Magic Crest.

The audacity of it all!

Kayneth almost seathed with indignation before he gave a disdainful snort. He considered the more pressing concerns.

Such as the mage located in the dock.

Storming in with his Servant was certainly tempting, but he knew that such a display would only serve to undermine his image. No, he would have to handle this situation with ... finesse.

Turning on his heels, his mind was already racing with ideas for his new venue. He knew that the docks held potential dangers of their own, with rival mages and unknown variables lurking in the shadows.

But Kayneth was not one to shy away from a challenge. If anything, the prospect of facing off against skilled opponents to defeat only fueled his determination.

When the familiars he sent reached the docks, Kayneth had surveyed the scene before him with a sense of grim satisfaction believing that, yes, this would do nicely, it was only to barely notice flutians in the mana in the area.

And the cautious investigation into the source of the mana, Kayneth was confident that whatever was causing the local increase in the area would prove to be of use for another magus' plans.

He'd have to work through his familair's - Lancer's ability to avoid his personal harm.

Certainly, heroic spirits who are called by the Holy Grail as Servants, would form any contract in order to participate in the War.

As heroic spirits or not, they are expected to have a reason for seeking the it. Because they have wishes they have charged to it, they submit to their own Masters, and dash forward together to receive the blessings of the Holy Grail.

Because of that, a Servant's Master would face the summoned heroic spirit and start by asking for his wish. What he wished for to seek , why he had responded to his summon and appeared. As long as those reasons were not cleared up, their relationship would not work out. This is because, by any chance, if their respective wishes are totally contradictory, he may go through a painful betrayal once they acquire the Holy Grail.

Naturally, Kayneth had already asked Diarmuid about his wishes earlier on. Along with whether or not he wanted to do anything in the event that they managed to procure the Holy Grail.

Nevertheless, the heroic spirit did not answer.

No, that is not correct. Diarmuid did not refuse to reply. Just that he denied the question itself.

In other words, "he was not seeking the Holy Grail".

Repayments are not necessary. To merely devote his loyalty to his summoner who is his Master in this life, to fulfill his honor as a knight.

That is his only wish.

He could not understand.

For a person who was renowned enough to be a heroic spirit to abandon his pride and be the familiar of a human being, it doesn't add up if he did not have a great reason as well. It did not turn out to be "free service" or other jokes.

Yet, no matter how skillfully he tried to question him, stubbornly, Lancer did not take back his previous answer.

"If I can fulfill my honor as a knight, that would be good enough. I will cede the wishing machine, the Holy Grail to the Master alone."

All the time, with persistence, Lancer continued to refuse the Holy Grail.

...If he were to reflect on it, it is possible that since that time, he started to feel distrust towards the Servant he contracted with.

It is impossible for a Servant not to seek the Holy Grail.

If that's the case, Lancer's answer was definitely an obvious lie. His true intentions were definitely hidden.

That's fine as well, he thought.

In Kayneth's hands are the Command Spells.

As long as he has this absolute commanding authority, Diarmuid's betrayal is impossible. Servants are after all, just tools, no different from ordinary machines. It is not a problem for something like a tool to have anything bad hidden within its heart. If it can carry out its functions perfectly, then that is good enough. That was Kayneth's decision until yesterday night.

He covers up his doubt with "well I'll just treat him like a tool." But as the situation becomes worse and worse, he considers Diarmuid more and more as a rival for Sola. Kayneth became threatened by Diarmuid as a person until he made this realization.

"If you are dissatisfied, then try using that pride and honor of which you speak to withstand my Command Seals—hm, no match? This then is your true ability. The spirit and fortitude of which you speak are not even worth mentioning in the presence of Command Seals. Those are the real tricks of puppets such as Servants, then."

"... Kayneth... sir..."

Facing Kayneth who was loudly mocking him, Lancer weakly lowered his head, unable to make any sort of rebuttal. The previous majesty of brandishing the twin lances in the presence of warlords had long since vanished without a trace; whether from weakly slumped shoulders, or the unfocused eyes staring at the ground, it was impossible to see any trace of heroism.

Looking at his miserable likeness, Kayneth finally felt that he had vented all the grievances he had been continuously accumulating, and felt slightly relieved.

Perhaps up till now, Kayneth had finally been able to establish his ideal master-servant relationship with this Heroic Spirit. Though it was somewhat late; he should have been able to, at an earlier time—preferably immediately after summoning—completely strike down his pride. If this had been done earlier, this presumptuous Servant would probably not have had other intentions, and served him compliantly.

"Assassin― has been killed?"

Disappointed by how quickly it had ended, Waver Velvet opened his eyes.

Until a moment ago, he was spying over the complete turn of the scene at the Tohsaka mansion, and his vision now returned to the room he has gotten used to ― on the second floor of the house of the old couple he lived with like a parasite. The image that was behind his eyelids until just then was coming from the vision of a rat familiar.

"Hey Rider, here's something new. There has been one loss."

The giant, despite being called, was lying there on the floor, and only responded with an "Hmf" devoid of motivation, not even turning around.

"..."

He had been doing nothing but resting his pained muscles all day in his room ―strictly speaking, that was someone else's room, but let's put that detail aside― but Waver couldn't settle down. Even though he had ordered him to go back to spirit form when he wasn't doing anything, Rider had refused, saying he felt "more comfortable in materialized form", and so he has been showing off his giant body all this time. Just dragging on the materialization means a large prana loss for the Master to supply to his Servant; that isn't too much of a problem for Waver, but in those circumstances, Rider is quite unmindful.

Harder to forgive was what Rider was doing while spending Waver's prana, which was... well, nothing, in fact.

Even with Waver scornful, he was just resting, relaxed, nonchalantly picking around in a dish and watching a rental video. Can you believe that Servant?

"Hey, did you hear me? Assassin has got done. Heaven's Feel is starting!"

"Hmm."

"... Hey!"

As Waver was raising his voice with excitement, Rider finally turned around half of his body.

"Yeah, what about some assassin guy? A rat in hiding is not much of an enemy."

"..."

"Anyway, boy, what's amazing is that, here."

Rider turns back to face the CTR as he speaks more heatedly. The cassette is playing "an authentic account on the flight force of the world, part 4"... With a mania for military affairs, Rider has put his hand on everything related, books, images. Of course, providing all of it is Waver's problem. Otherwise the giant Servant would walk in a library or video store, which isn't fine with the Master.

"There, that big black B2 thingy. It's wonderful. I'm thinking about buying ten of those."

"―Just go and buy a country if you have that money."

Waver spat his answer out of frustration, and Rider made a serious face, moaning "Oh yeah..."

"Of course, funds are an important matter... Maybe I should plunder a city as rich as Persepolis."

Apparently, that guy, Rider, has seriously been considered conquering the world and done research on the wars of the current era. Even the information he has received from the Grail has limits. For one, he doesn't know the price of one stealth bomber.

"For the most urgent matters, this Clinton man is a formidable enemy. He might be a stronger enemy than King Darius."

"..."

Waver has endured stomachaches ever since he has summoned that Servant. He'll have a stomach ulcer by the time they get the Grail.

Shutting the giant in front of him out of his consciousness, Waver tried to think positively.

At any rate, it was a good thing for Waver that Assassin was the first to fall. Waver is aware that his own Servant, Rider, with his battle abilities, is the type to go full frontal in a fight. With that in mind, an enemy who can plan out clever tricks is a bigger threat. And Assassin was pretty much the definition of that. An unknown Caster Servant is also a problem, but an Assassin who creeps up without revealing himself was the most direct menace.

The three main Knight classes, Saber, Lancer, Archer, then Berserker who just riots his way, are nothing to be afraid of. Rider's abilities and Noble Phantasms are enough to push them back and win. All that is left is finding out Caster's true name―

"― So, how was Assassin killed?"

Sitting up cross-legged, Rider threw a surprise attack at Waver with his sudden question.

"... Eh?"

"Yeah, the Servant who beat Assassin. Didn't you see him?"

Waver faltered. He did see him― but, just what did he see?

"Must be that Tohsaka Servant... I guess. Looked strong and aggressive, showing off with a lot of shiny-goldy things. It took only an instant, so I'm not sure..."

"That's what mattered, fool."

Along with his shocked voice, something burst in the middle of Waver's eyebrows. The completely unexpected pain and the surprise made Waver fall off then tumble flat on his face.

That was Rider's middle finger. Holding it bent by the thumb then shot forward: that's a flick on the forehead. Of course, there was no strength in that. However, when it's Rider's finger, hard as the root of a pine tree, Waver's skin swelled red from the force.

Violence again. Corporal abuse again. Waver was confused between fear and frenzy, and was at a loss for words. This is the second time he is hit by his Servant. This is the second time in his whole life. Unable to breathe properly because of anger, Waver opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Ignoring how upset his Master was, Rider drew a deep, grand sigh.

"You know, if I fight, it's to win and survive. What will happen if you can't observe properly?"

"...h"

Waver didn't reply. Rider was right. He doesn't want to hear it from a Servant who does nothing but lie down, eat tea cakes, watch videos, and read, but it's true that there are enemies who can become a problem.

"Oh well, never mind. That shiny-goldy or whatever, what impression did he give you?"

"I, I told you that..."

How could he have understood anything in that instant?

For starters, the attack that sent Assassin into oblivion is probably a Noble Phantasm. Even through the eyes of the familiar, he had perceived a huge burst of prana.

Yet the number of weapons that poured down on Assassin―

"... Hey, Rider, Servants usually have just one Noble Phantasm, right?"

"Generally, yes. Sometimes, there are Heroic Spirits who manage to get two or three. I myself, for example, am one of these cases."

That's right, the night he arrived in the present world, Rider showed Waver a Noble Phantasm and said it wasn't his only trump card.

"Eh, there's no sense in considering the number of Noble Phantasms. As you must know, Noble Phantasms are the crystallization of the historical facts and anecdotes that made the Heroic Spirit famous, but that doesn't have to be a weapon; it can be a specific ability or a unique means of attacking."

"... So, throwing ten or twenty weapons at once could be a "Noble Phantasm" in itself?"

"A sword that splits in an infinite number, eh? That could happen. It has the potential of being one "Noble Phantasm", yes."

"..."

Still, what defeated Assassin is yet again something different. Waver did see through the eyes of his familiar that the weapons thrown weren't all the same. That wasn't a multiplication. Those were all unique weapons.

Could they have all been Noble Phantasms after all? That shouldn't be possible. There weren't just one or two blades flooding down on the crawling Assassin.

"Oh well, that's fine, we'll know when we figure out the true identity of the enemy."

Laughing heartily, Rider slapped Waver, who was thinking deeply, on the back. The impact shook his spine and the small magus started choking. The blow this time wasn't humiliating, but Waver would appreciate some gentler skinship.

"Are you quite done!?"

"Good. My heart is in joy."

Rider remarked carelessly with a daring smile.

"Food and sex, sleep and war― enjoy yourself however you want. That's the secret to a man's life."

"..."

Waver couldn't find the fun in that. Or rather, he had no experience in two of those.

"Alright, let's look for some fun outside."

Cracking the muscles in the back of his neck, the giant Servant stretched largely.

"We're departing for the front. Be ready."

"The front... Where?"

"Over there of course, where else."

"That's nuts!"

Standing up and nearly reaching the ceiling, Rider looked down at Waver's angry face and smiled.

"You're not the only one who was observing the Tohsaka fort. This means Assassin's death is already known. So they'll all grow tired of looking out for an attack from the shadow, and they'll all start moving together at once. We'll find them and hunt them."

"Find and hunt... Like it'll be that simple..."

"I am Rider. I have predominance over the other Servants going by foot, you know?"

With that exaggeration, Rider drew the sword at his waist out of its scabbard. Realizing that he was about to call out that Noble Phantasm, Waver stopped him confusedly.

"Waitwaitwait! You can't do that here. You'll blow up the house!"

Kiritsugu Emiya's arrival was fraught with difficulty. His every move was shadowed. As he stepped off the plane, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Watching airports and harbors, carefully harassing anyone for information, delinquents made their presence known. He knew that he couldn't afford to let his guard down for even a moment. He trusted no one and kept a close eye on everyone. He was determined to stay one step ahead of them. He was ready for anything.

As he made his way through the bustling streets of Fuyuki, Kiritsugu couldn't help but feel the weight of his burden pressing down upon him. Every face he passed seemed to scrutinize him, every passing glance filled with suspicion and mistrust.

But Kiritsugu pressed on. He knew that he had a job to do, and he would do whatever it took to see it through to the end.

Fuyuki city, Shinto

The buildings in the area planned as a business district are only 40% complete, but the maintenance of the park and shopping mall in front of the station is already done; the future plans are already done for the Shinto district to be clean and sterile, pompous and with no individuality. The city hall is also being moved piece by piece to Shinto, revived with modern iron, glass, and mortar, stealing all central municipal functions from Miyama.

It is already crowded even during holidays.

In the middle of the crowd going back and forth, cowering from the northern wind, Emiya Kiritsugu disappeared, colorless and odorless, avoiding attracting any attention that looked for him.

He looked down on the paper cigarette pack he had just bought from a vending machine.

It's been 9 years since he stopped smoking. He hadn't been able to find his favorite brand in the far land of the Einzberns, but that was mainly in regard to the mother and child. Just as he came down to the Fuyuki station, preparing for battle, he had thrown a coin in the vending machine out of sheer annoyance.

Since he had come here he had had to avoid curious delinquents... who brought their friends along when he was not around.

He visited Fuyuki in reconnaissance under cover three years earlier, but the face of Shinto has completely changed since then.

Despite the slight difficulty of the transformation of the area and the worrying amount of the criminal element, Kiritsugu reached the hotel he wanted.

The lobby and the front have been arranged, but the interior is a fairly cheap business hotel. Families or wanderers, this hotel is a good harbor for quite a wide genre of users.

Acting as if he knew the place, Kiritsugu walks through the lobby up to the elevator, up to the seventh floor. This is where his faithful subordinate has been for three days, in room 73.

In the world of magi, his relationship with Hisau Maiya would be that of a pupil and a teacher.

But to Kiritsugu, who saw magecraft as a mere tool he had acquired knowledge in, and not as the object of his quest, there wasn't a single sense of master and pupil. What he has taught Maiya is merely a "way to fight". This too is only for the purpose of counting her as a "tool".

Hence his connection to Maiya is older than the one with Irisviel. Having fought at his side, Maiya knows of the blood-stained side of Kiritsugu that his wife has never seen.

As he knocked at a pre-arranged rhythm on the door of room 73, the door opened immediately as if he had been expecting. Skipping unnecessary greetings with a mere glance at each other, Kiritsugu enters the room and closes the door.

Maiya has already been involved for a while. After Kiritsugu retreated, she has arranged the preparations for the Grail War according to the instructions given by Kiritsugu from overseas, and has been busy returning to the Einzbern castle many times.

She was a beauty who used neither eyeliner nor lipstick. Her jet black, silk-like straight hair would have caught the glance of any man if not for her cold looks.

"At the Tohsaka mansion, there was some movement last night."

Maiya started by jumping straight to the point.

"Please watch the records of it. Also, all the equipment has arrived."

"Understood. First, the situation."

Nodding, Maiya switches on the decoder of the unpacked television.

Among the magecraft Kiritsugu had taught her, Maiya was particularly capable in the management of regular familiars, and Kiritsugu often entrusted her with scouting or reconnaissance missions. This time again, Kiritsugu has assigned her to the surveillance of the Matou and Tohsaka mansions.

The familiars Maiya had pride in were bats, but unlike other magi, her bats have a miniature CCD camera tied on the abdomen. Even if they had been behaving more erratically as of late.

Of course, this is an idea of Kiritsugu.

The illusions and camouflaged bounded fields of magi are often based on using suggestions on an observer, but that sort of thing often forgets about electronic-based countermeasures. Video records are also helpful for re-watching, so even considering it slows down the familiar the joint use of cameras is a viable solution.

The whole scene of the previous night is replayed on the 13 inch CTR. The blurred image is enough to understand the whole event. Without raising an eyebrow, Kiritsugu watches the Servant with a skull mask unable to escape annihilation from the golden Servant.

The white mask of the defeated Servant is without a doubt of the Assassin class.

"What do you make of it?"

"I think it is going too well."

Maiya replied immediately to Kiritsugu's question.

"The time lag between the Assassin's materialization and the attack of Tohsaka's Servant is too short. He was waiting for him. I could accept that he might have detected an intruder in spirit form, but his opponent is an Assassin with the Presence Concealment ability. ... I wonder if Tohsaka wasn't aware of the invasion prior to it."

Kiritsugu nodded.

"The more I think of it, the more it seems like an arrangement. Why did Tohsaka expose his Servant like that if he had such a margin?"

The Tohsaka family has obviously accumulated experience from the second and third Grail fights. There is no way they don't know the other Masters would be observing the Tohsaka mansion.

Last night, Tohsaka left two clues to the other Masters, being what his Servant looks like, as well as showing a method that looks like a Noble Phantasm. Neither were enough to definitely identify the Servant, but that was a risk that should have been easy to avoid. If he was to bring down the Assassin, he could have done so outside of plain view.

"Showing us something he didn't have to show us― that means he wanted to show it to us."

"Possibly. If there is any merit in doing that, then the explanation is obvious. ... Maiya, what happened to the Master of Assassin?"

"He went to the Church last night and requested the supervisor's protection. It is a man called Kotomine Kirei."

Hearing that name, Kiritsugu's eyes lit up.

"Maiya, send a familiar to the Fuyuki Church. One will be fine for now."

"... Is it alright? The Church is an area where aggression between Masters is prohibited."

He thought about ramming a oil tanker truck into the church because it could to eliminate Kirei once and for all

"Unless the priest supervisor doesn't find out. Stay at a reasonable distance. Don't overdo it. He doesn't have to know."

Maiya frowned at Kiritsugu's incomprehensible instructions.

"Must I observe the Church?"

"You can just make it 'regular patrolling'. What you must concentrate on is being absolutely not-discovered."

"... Yes, understood."

Maiya couldn't understand what Kiritsugu had in mind, but didn't question him. She at once picks one of the three bats observing the Tohsaka mansion and sends it the thought of going to the Fuyuki Church at the end of Shinto.

Kiritsugu turned off the TV, then resumed inspecting the equipment Maiya prepared.

In the various tools lined up on the sheet of the bed, awaiting Kiritsugu's check-up, there was not one a magus could find interesting. Not a single ritualistic catalyst like a dagger, cup, talisman, elixir or spiritual container. They were state-of-the-art and highly efficient, but apart from that, they were nothing but conventional weapons. Nothing that could store prana.

He quickly picked up the contender.

That was the heresy that earned the magus Emiya Kiritsugu the nickname of "magus killer."

Pulling the rim of the exposed cartridge with his fingertips from the opened chamber, he slides in a second bullet, and immediately slams the gun barrel close―

It took him two seconds. Bad thoughts dull his manipulations.

"... I've gotten rusty."

"Yes."

To Kiritsugu, murmuring in self-derision, Maiya nodded without consideration. She knew the old skills of her partner. Kiritsugu pulled the bullet he had loaded in the gun, picked up the other one he had dropped on the floor, and placed everything back in the case with the Contender.

"Ilya's body is even lighter than the Walther here. And she's already 8 years old..."

Letting free his shameful memories on his own, Kiritsugu started loosening alone. Maiya's movement, barging in behind his back, stopped his train of thought.

Agile like a snake, her hand rolled around Kiritsugu's neck, seizing the back of his head, blocking his movements, and his mouth― she took his soft, dried lips.

The taste and touch of a different woman were different from the one in his heart. Breaking off the man's homesickness, but that was too quick to be forgiven.

"... Please only focus on what's necessary for now. Don't think of what you don't need."

In a blurred voice that had traces of her usage of her tongue left, Maiya quietly commanded Kiritsugu.

"..."

Without a word, Kiritsugu felt the sensation in his chest calm down. In his heart cooling off, the pain is already vanishing away in a mist.

A supporting tool, a cog in a system, a doll whose actions are dedicated to the self proclaimed machine that is called Emiya Kiritsugu.

This is all that Hisau Maiya is.

From his theoretical, and some small amount of practical knowledge he has had to accept, any mana sensitive individual's attention was stolen as an invitation was delivered.

It was an open invitation for every Servant in the Grail War.

An interesting strategy - whoever did it must be rather confident in themselves.

Or it was a trap.

In his experience. A trap.

Most likely they knew that this territory was under enemy control and basically threw a live grenade to rat out any live mines so to speak.

It was a dock area - shipping containers were lined up in rows. There was the lone figure that was standing in the center of the docks area, flanked by containers. He carried two spears, one long red spear, and a shorter yellow spear, both wrapped in sealing talismans.

A bounded field was up.

Hmm.

Looking at the area and the energy fluctuations with the information that he was being given on their possible effects…

Most likely an alarm system to inform the Master that set it up that someone had entered, that way their Servant wouldn't be picked off.

Smart.

Supposedly, making bounded fields was easy, but dismantling them not so much

So instead, he moved around and above the bounded field.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long before another Servant entered the area.

A young, very young, European woman dressed in armor, girded for battle - steel plates covered the long skirt that reached her ankles, thick heavy gauntlets protected her hands, and a chest piece protected her vitals. In her hands was empty air, yet she clearly held a weapon- a sword of some kind.

He detected magic from the swirling wind that masked what was most likely a sword based on that stance, but it was otherwise completely invisible via mundane means.

Interestingly, she was followed by what looked to be another blond European woman of a much, much paler complexity in hair and skin.

The situation at hand and red eyes ruled out the possibility of her being an albino, if the current association was not a clue.

"You alone have accepted my invitation, everyone else slunk back to the shadows to hide," Lancer said, much to my annoyance. "These cursed rules prevent us from honorably trading names, but based on the pure energy around you, you must be Saber, correct?"

"You must be Lancer," Saber answered without confirmation. She settled into a fighting stance just as Lancer did. "A charm spell?"

Oh?

Based on their discussion, or banter and Saber's response to the spell, most direct magecraft would be a waste of time. Zatanna's work might work if he used her gifts like a hammer but that is a hypothetical that he would not like to test with Caster's life.

A flash of movement caught his eye to which he shifted his attention.

Someone was climbing up one of the loading cranes.

No, two people were. Interesting.

A man and a woman, each wearing a suit similar to the one that Saber had back in the cafe.

I HAVE HIM.

Boundary Field Creation

Magecraft that consists of knitting a network of magical energy and spreading it over a base area, such as a piece of land or a building, to create a mystic boundary line that separates the inside from the outside.

Familiarcraft.

The ability to imbue something with a piece of one's self and through that, control it. It often can be combined with other magecraft for different kinds of familiars.

At her level, she can share his senses with that of his familiars, share telepathic messages, freely move magical energy between himself and the familiars, and align the existence of familiars to sharply reduce the corrective force of the world while outside of combat.

Familiarcraft combined with Bounded Fields was very useful.

Saber and Lancer continued the exchange - Lancer had been born with a curse that attracted women to him.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and men had killed each other for centuries over women.

Saber seemed to have brushed it off, he noted her magic resistance with that. Something that seemed to please Lancer.

"Good. It'd be a stain on my honor to kill a woman that's throwing herself at me," Lancer said with a smirk. One that Saber met with a stoic face.

"Oh? You desire a fair fight? I count myself lucky to find myself face to face with such an honorable hero," Saber said, and as soon as the words left her mouth, the tension swelled between them. Then they moved, and I only saw the clash as the entire docks seemed to tremble from their first bout. I had over a hundred eyes that were spread out across the top of the bounded field, but I could just barely follow the fight.

As he moved he spotted another figure standing on one of the buildings,on the highest loading tower.

Assassin.

She could not forget the bleached white bone mask that covered their face, and a patchwork black cloak that covered their body except for their vibrant purple hair.

All there was left were Rider, Archer, and Berserker.

She made a decision.

"Lancer, kill Saber. I grant you permission to use your Noble Phantasm."

Lancer was pleased with the order and Saber seemed ready as he dropped his shorter spear, and the sealing talisman that wrapped itself around his red spear burned away. Then the two clashed, except this time, when his red spear hit Saber's sword, there was a blinding golden light as the invisible wind vanished.

This didn't stop the severe wound to her abdomen as the red spear passed through her armor like it wasn't there. A spear that bypassed magic. Then Saber made the mistake of getting rid of her armor, leaving her in a royal blue dress, and going in for the attack. She completely forgot about the yellow spear, so focused on the threat in front of her that she didn't realize that she had made a mistake until it was too late. Something that had been her undoing in her legend.

A blood-red spear that bypassed magic. A magical mole that attracted women. Those two clues told me who Lancer was - Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. Meaning that the yellow spear inflicted wounds that would not heal.

Saber darted forward, her sword Excalibur shining brightly as she made her attack, only to be forced to abandon it when Lancer kicked up the yellow spear and thrust it at her unexpectedly. Saber narrowly avoided the thrust that would have killed her, though based on the amount of blood that soaked her sleeve, she hadn't avoided an injury completely.

Only for a lighting bolt slammed into the ground between Saber and Lancer.

Lighting danced around the broken concrete floor and I heard the bellowing of bulls. Blinking away the light spots in my eyes, I saw a chariot pulled by massive bulls flying through the air. In it was the Servant Rider, for it could be no one else - a tall man that was closer to seven feet tall than six, built like a brick shit house and wearing a red cloak that was the same color as the mane of hair and beard he had.

"I am Iskandar, King of Conquerors!"

Heroic spirit Alexander. Also known as Iskandar or Alexandros.

The reason he was known under several names depending on the pronunciation of the land was that he was the heroic "King of Conquerors". Succeeding to the throne of Macedonia at only 20 years old, leading ancient Greece in an invasion of Persia, then through Egypt, up to western India during the great "eastern campaigns", and reaching the success of a great hero in barely 10 years.

His height easily exceeded 2 meters. His unprotected arms and thighs spread out from his bronze armor, and from the size of the muscles all over his body he looked like he could kill a bear with his bare hands. On his sternly chiseled features there were eyes with a dazzling glow and burning red hair and beard. The thick mantle dyed in a similar red, with fringes like his cuffs, was luxuriously decorated, looking just like a curtain wrapping the stage of a theater.

Rider introduced himself loudly, throwing his hands out wide with an even wider smile on his face. Her surprise was mirrored on Saber and Lancer's faces - and, apparently, Rider's Master who rode with him in the chariot. He was either very brave or very stupid to do that.

"Y-you idiot! What are you doing?! Your identity is supposed to be a secret! A secret!" A waif of a young man protested, but Rider ignored him in favor of focusing on me.

A merciless finger flick echoed in the night; the protesting voice died down. Rider asked with a glance to Lancer and Saber that were on either side of him.

"You slaughter each other to obtain the Grail... I want to ask you something before you engage.

I don't know what expectations you have of the Grail. But now, consider for a moment whether your wishes are even greater than the desire to possess all of earth and heaven."

Although Saber still hadn't understood what he meant, her instincts told her that those words were full of danger. Her pupils widened subconsciously.

"You – what do you want to say?"

"Hum? I was quite clear."

By then Rider had maintained his dignity, but his voice was much more gentle and amicable.

"I have descended upon the battlefield, so do you have any intention of passing the Holy Grail to me? If you forfeit your claims to the Grail, I would regard you as friends, and share with you the joy of conquering the world."

"..."

It was the first time that anyone had seen something like this. It was hard to tell whether this was a wise decision or a foolish move.

"I admire your boldness in declaring your identity just then, yet... I found it hard to agree to your proposals."

Lancer shook his head with a bitter smile, but there was no laughter in his eyes. A glare as intimidating as a sharp sword collided head-on with the scornful sideway glance of the King of Conquerors; sparks flew.

"I will lift up the Grail; that is the oath I took with the only new king of this era. The one that will hold the Grail in his hands will not be you, Rider."

"...Did you stop my duel with Lancer just to declare all that nonsense?"

Saber asked, immediately following Lancer's words. Her expression was different from that of the beautiful spearman; there wasn't any laughter to be found. Rider's suggestion was extremely irritating for someone as serious as her.

"Your joke was overdone, King of Conquerors. This is an unbearable humiliation to a knight."

Lancer and Saber both cast hostile glares towards Rider. Rider mumbled as if troubled, massaging his temples with his knuckles subconsciously at the same time. Although Rider appeared to be running out of plans, his majestic pose did not change at all. Therefore, Rider is actually someone rather rare.

"... Are you offering terms to me?"

"Enough!"

Feeling that Rider might make some attempts of flattery, Lancer and Saber simultaneously refused him. Saber continued with disappointment written on her face.

"Besides... I am also that lord that rules the kingdom of Britain. No matter what kind of a king one is, he can never bow before another lord."

"Oh? The king of Britain?"

Rider showed interest in Saber's declarations and raised his eyebrows.

"How surprising. The renowned King of Knights is actually a young girl."

" – And would you like to try the blade of that young girl, King of Conquerors?"

Saber lifted her sword as she lowered her voice. Her left hand was still powerless to hold the sword; its four fingers were just resting on the hilt. The fighting spirit that rose wavering from the blade, however, was more solemn and majestic then when she fought Lancer. Rider furrowed his brows and let out a long sigh.

"Rejected three for three? What a shame," he muttered, sounding genuinely disappointed with our refusal. What a harebrained scheme. His Master agreed, as he began to beat against Rider's side with his fists, doing exactly zero damage to him as he wailed, very unhappy with how things were going for him. It seemed that Rider was someone that only went at his own pace, forcing his Master to keep up.

Who was apparently named Waver Velvet according to Lancer's Master, "Waver Velvet," he spoke, his voice ringing out all around us. "I had wondered what possessed you to steal my catalyst, but I never imagined that you would participate in the Grail War yourself. As your teacher, it falls on me to teach you an important lesson - the consequences of betrayal in the world of Magi." There was a cruel smile on his face that I could hear even if I didn't see it on his face.

Waver trembled like a shaking leaf as I considered the accusation. Rider did so as well, speaking up and voicing his displeasure. "You, my Master? Don't be foolish! You, who hides in the shadows like a snake in the grass, could never be worthy for me to call Master. The least you would need to do for me to acknowledge you is ride with me in battle like a young Waver." Rider made a dismissive gesture, missing the look of awe that Waver sent up at him.

And another Servant materialized. Archer, by the look of it by process of elimination, as he stood on one of the light poles, completely clad in golden armor sporting a pair of oversized shoulder pauldrons. His hair was platinum blonde, and spiked up while heavy golden earrings hung from his ears. His blood red eyes looked down on all.

And after some… dialogue and posturing –

Weapons began to emerge from the ripples.

Not just weapons - Noble Phantasms.

Correction.

Every single one of them, and there were a solid half dozen. Swords, spears, axes - each one the manifestation of a legend. The other Servant's made sounds of awe. The bounded field established just outside the range of the one Lancer's Master was ready.

Naturally, that's when Berserker entered the fray.

He emerged from the ground, rising from inky black smoke like a specter. He was tall, and solidly built, however his form was difficult to perceive because of the oily black smoke that clung to his frame. A blood-red glow emerged from his visor as a tortured and vicious howl escaped his lips as he threw his head back as if to announce his arrival. All eyes turned to him.

All six out of seven Servants were here.

Saber, Lancer, Archer, Rider, Assassin, and now Berserker.

All of them within a bounded field created and amplified by the works of this "Zatanna' and the Universal Genuis of Leonardo's magecraft.

Saber felt the change in the air as a chill ran down her spine. Like her blood had suddenly turned to ice in her veins, and if it wasn't for the same thing happening to Lancer, that brief moment of hesitation would have cost her her life. She heard the maddened howl from Berserker and felt the vibrations under her feet from the explosions coming from Archer's barrage of noble phantasms.

However, that wasn't what stilled her.

Saber looked above to see the sky vanishing, replaced with a pitch-black void that seemed to stretch on for eternity. Black mist began to seep over the ground, masking her feet was the last thing she saw before she was encompassed by an all consuming darkness.

After receiving the signal sent by Irisviel, Emiya Kiritsugu and Hisau Maiya raced towards the factories according to its direction.

However, just by the traces of prana from the surroundings, Kiritsugu was able to accurately judge the situation.

"…It has already begun."

Someone had formed a barrier.

It should be the work of the enemy Servant's Master.

Kiritsugu began to contemplate as he held the sniper rifle. He had already estimated Irisviel's position according to the transmitter. However, questions remain as to how to approach the location, and where to observe once they reach it.

"Up there, that looks like a good place to observe the fight."

Maiya pointed in front of them as she spoke. It was a derrick crane that towers high into the night. Judging by sight, the control cabin hovered about 30 meters above the ground; it would be the best observation point possible if one could silently climb up there.

Kiritsugu had no objections to Maiya's suggestion, but because of that, he shook his head.

"Yes, that is the ideal place to survey the battle. So it can't be only us that came up with the idea."

"…"

Without further explanations on Kiritsugu's part, Maiya had already understood his intentions.

"Maiya, slip in through the eastern bank, I'll go through the west… Find an observation point that can overlook both Saber's battle and the crane."

"I understand."

Maiya disappeared in the shadows of the factories with a jog, holding the assault gun in her hands. Kiristugu checked the input from the transmitter as he cautiously moved in the opposite direction.

Kiritsugu silently set up the Walther on the mountainous shipping containers piled on the container port beside the seaside cliffs. He took in the situation of the fight using the electronic sights that penetrated the cover of night.

Through the thermographic scope, on the screen that displayed cool shades of black and blue, red and orange images emerged, the heat diagram representing the two Servants fused together, as if it was a giant flare with all their movements.

Submerged in darkness, Kiritsugu could only frown. It was only Lancer. Lancer's Master probably relied on illusions or such presence-concealing magecraft to deceive his position and thought it enough; he did not consider that this would be countered with mechanical cameras.

Kiritsugu contacted Maiya, positioned on the other side of the battlefield, with his radio.

Setting up the bipod, Kiritsugu had just started to get into the mood — Suddenly, with a start, he turned the Walther towards the derrick crane.

At that moment he felt that all his plans had been ruined.

Keeping his disapproval inside his heart, he whispered into the radio again.

"Maiya, up on the crane…"

"… Yes, affirmative here as well; it's just like what you thought."

Meanwhile, the third party that was scrutinizing the battle between Saber and Lancer also discovered the silhouette atop the crane.

Kiritsugu, when he arrived first at the battle scene, never thought that this fight would have only one team of observers. He had therefore given up the best position on the crane and chose a place that could pay attention to both it and the battlefield. The newcomer appeared to be oblivious to the fact that his location was already under surveillance, and occupied the ideal spot to observe the fight. Consequently, he was exposed to Kiritsugu's line of sight.

However, one important factor escaped his calculations.

Though hard to believe, it is definitely Assassin, the one who was annihilated last night at the Tohsaka residence.

While he was not entirely surprised by the reappearance of the supposedly-dead Assassin, the problem was that the one currently on top of the derrick crane is a Servant.

The only recourse was to retreat as even if El Melloi was present and Kiritsugu sniped Lancer's Master now, the opponent would be dead instantly, but at the same time it would also expose the shooter's location.

He could not expect Saber to help him also. Saber was not even aware that Kiritsugu was at the scene; he could not hope for her to come to his aid even if she was also devoted to the battle with Lancer. Even though a Servant would lose his prana supply when his Master is killed, the Servant can still remain materialized in this plane with his own strength. Defeating Lancer's Master does not mean that he had defeated Lancer.

Since that was decided, it would not have doubts about anything else.

Only when he felt a slight tingle that left a metaphorical hole in his stomach.

When they had begun to trust each other more in their profession, Kiritsugu and Maiya had a strand of their hair embedded in each other's fingers to alert one of them if either of the two was suddenly on the verge of death or forced unconsciousness.

He then felt himself become enveloped in an all-encompassing supernatural darkness, he was immediately plunged into a world of sensory deprivation unlike anything he had ever experienced before. The absence of light, pressing in from all sides and enveloping him in a suffocating blanket of darkness leaving him with a profound sense of disorientation.

Deprived of the usual cacophony of sound that filled his environment, even what was previously a battlefield, his hearing seemed to sharpen, every subtle noise amplified to an almost unbearable degree. The faintest rustle of fabric or the distant echo of a footstep seemed to reverberate through his skull, sending shivers down his spine as he struggled to make sense of the distorted sounds that assailed his senses.

He soon felt a profound sense of numbness wash over him, as if he were detached from his own body.

Alone in the void, Kiritsugu grappled with the overwhelming sense of isolation and disorientation to try and contact his partner

"Maiya-"

One minute he was dazed, flaying around with his comms, then the next minute he was three meters off the ground perpendicular to his original position.

Out of the corner of his eye, all he could see was white slits that somehow conveyed immense rage that if they held any form of mystery in them he would have had his very soul destroyed. He could feel his heart pounding in chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins in the few seconds he was suspended in the air.

Maybe it was this mental disturbance from the change in environment that left him without his wits and why he did not notice but it took him a moment for him to realize that he was in the air. And another for him to realize that he was flipped onto his face with an immediate slam that shattered all the front teeth in his mouth that he had to spit out or risk choking and the creek as his ribs pressed further into his body.

Even as he began to heal from that trauma thanks to Avalon and he reaches for something with either hand, one of his arms was already stretched behind his back before he could get his prone form up and -

The quick and loud pop and crack of both his one arm's dislocated shoulder and broken wrist that reverberated into his skull, along with the pain that came soon after almost made him lose the combat knife he had gotten. Not that it mattered in the end.

Whether it was due to the angle, the sheer strength difference or misfortune but as he went in to stab his opponent from behind, his hand was casually smacked away with such force he could feel his wrist crumble like a pair of dry crackers.

He was then turned around, through which through his already swollen eyes, he bared witness to a tall dark figure in perfect clarity as the darkness seemed to flow around him.

Despite it being a decade since this figure's relevance to him mattered, he instantly recognized the one responsible for his assault.

The so called 'Most Dangerous Man Alive'.

He quickly let his body go limp, feigned defeat and endured the onslaught of weighted fists and possibly carbon steel knuckles that met his face.

Again. Again. Again. And Again.

The only thing that kept him conscious despite all appearances was self suggestion.

When the unrelenting barrage stopped, it stopped, he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

When he felt two fingers on his neck he waited.

After a minute, an hour, days , it did not matter as he wasn't bothering to count and it would be useless until the concussion went away, he waited.

Only when a golden flash so bright he could see it even with his eyes closed did he strike.

Double Accel.

Author's Note:

When writing this chapter I had to take some time just to rewatch and re-read both the Fate Zero anime, the script and the light novel.

It really puts a context in a lot of things but also padded out the chapter kore than intended so if you you see something wonky, tell me so I can correct it.

This chapter was a bit more than any previously because I needed to both introduce the other participants, show what little changes Batman's actions had led to such Kayneth actually not entering the Docks that will keep growing.

(At least before the big ones.)

This took so much time to write that to prevent a long hiatus, I had to cut it down to pieces instead of one big piece .