Become my Servant?
Since you're the Witch of Betrayal, betraying once more shouldn't matter, right?
To Zouken Matou's sudden recruitment, Miss Illya just smiled and politely declined. After producing a new self-enforcing contract and carefully discussing contract details, she exchanged pleasantries before leaving the Matou family's manor villa, not accepting the old man's invitation to stay for a meal.
Changing Masters—this matter wouldn't particularly disgust Miss Illya.
After all, when the unenlightened Kirei Kotomine dared threaten her with Command Seals and magical supply before, she truly had murderous intent toward him internally. If not for Kirei Kotomine subsequently offering the Church's excessively rich intelligence network, she estimated she'd either have dissipated from contract failure due to lacking "Independent Action" skills, or already casually found some magus household to defect to.
Kirei Kotomine didn't trust her. She didn't trust Kirei Kotomine either. Because between villains, no trust existed—only mutually exploitative benefit relationships.
She could give Kirei Kotomine malicious pleasure schemes, let him gradually find his true self in this Holy Grail War.
Kirei Kotomine could give her the Church's intelligence network plus many privileges only officials had.
This was the foundation of her master-servant relationship with Kirei Kotomine. Truly zero emotional connection.
Of course, no feelings aside, even if a new Master with equal resources to Kirei Kotomine wanted to contract her, she basically wouldn't agree.
Because internally she actually quite resisted "betrayal." Kariya Matou was an accident—she'd never considered Kariya Matou one of her own, so it didn't count as betrayal. But Kirei Kotomine was different. They were villainous master-servant who knew each other thoroughly. Unless absolutely necessary—unless Kirei Kotomine was truly excessive—she felt they could muddle through together anyway.
Unless one day Kirei Kotomine didn't buy her cream cakes!
For Miss Illya's tactful refusal, Zouken Matou just shook his head expressing regret.
Said it was a pity. If she planned to change masters, he believed their compatibility would definitely be excellent. They could jointly explore magic and Root mysteries...
"Research magic mysteries? I'm still barely half-understanding the Einzbern family magic in my skills. What could I discuss with a Grand Magus about Root mysteries?"
"Discuss making Crest Worms prettier? Say magic and miracles all have prices, change the modified Crest Worms' marketing method and promote them. Tell Crest Worm users that using miracles too much pollutes the user's heart. Then have the deceived people hunt Dead Apostles or other fallen magi, using those enemies' lives to purify their own souls?"
Wait... that actually might work? This marketing pitch sounds so positive!
Modified prettier Crest Worms would be like transformation devices or magic wands in tokusatsu shows.
Need to devour flesh and magical energy to survive? Have them defeat Dead Apostles and other improper magi. Say those are villains wanting to destroy the world, or already-fallen seniors.
Crest Worms' negative effects? Say it's you being unable to maintain this power, being tempted by power. The world needs you to save it—don't let inner desires pollute you.
After being driven mad and crazy by Crest Worm torture, directly say they've fallen. "As expected, you weren't a qualified savior." Then have other Crest Worm holders resolve this already-fallen senior to give them peace.
"Wait... that way there's even 'self-circulation.' Plus fighting Dead Apostles, the Church and Clock Tower couldn't pick faults. If limiting numbers and candidates each season, even magic's mysterious concealment is guaranteed."
And those people would probably be highly motivated, possibly never discovering the Crest Worms were the problem until death!
Walking out of the Matou family villa, Miss Illya was surprised by her own wild imagination. Though details weren't quite complete, this framework seemingly really could work.
Self-circulation between Crest Worm hosts. Let ordinary people gain magical transcendence. Solve Dead Apostles in selected regions. One phrase "miracles and magic exist"—go to high schools or even middle schools, and couldn't you find loads of hot-blooded chuunibyou teens?
What if someone discovered something wrong? No problem—they'd die themselves.
Once this model started, others couldn't stop it even if they wanted.
Stopping meant death without flesh and magical energy supply. The magus distributing Crest Worms could even act as guide—like those all-knowing senior predecessors in magical girl anime. Occasionally harvest magus and Dead Apostle corpses from this behavior pattern for personal research. If encountering particularly disobedient people, that guide could command other obedient hot-blooded youths to eliminate that "fallen" junior predecessor with one sentence.
"Plus expanding—some adults burdened by mortgages and debts with no way out could also contract. The Matou family's industries are extensive, not lacking wealth. Occasionally distribute some bonuses based on targets..."
The more Miss Illya thought, the more excited she felt. Suddenly felt Zouken Matou's pattern was still too small.
Clearly having such legitimate reasons and actions available, yet playing around with Sakura Matou. Just change the rhetoric and formulate plans properly—just in Fuyuki City alone, couldn't you find hundreds of idiots wanting to become Kamen Riders or magical girls as material?
Research magic. So much material delivering itself to your door. Just catching that single Sakura Matou was truly picking up sesame seeds while losing watermelons.
"Hiss, could I actually really be a genius?"
Imagining herself holding Crest Worms disguised as magic wands or transformation devices, approaching some innocent girl and asking:
"Hello, are you willing to contract with me and become a magical girl protecting the world?"
No matter how you looked at it, it had fraud flavor. Miss Illya walked along the dark street, face slightly red as she held her small head. If encountering someone with genuinely good aptitude but very clearheaded, could even say before becoming a magical girl, they could make one not-excessive wish.
This, this, this—too interesting, right? Miss Illya suddenly felt she might never again view magical girls in anime the same way.
After all, the magus world really could create magical girls following her thought process.
Just no matter how you looked at it, these magical girls seemed very high-risk.
"Ptooey ptooey ptooey! What am I even thinking? This idea is way too inhumane." Miss Illya hastily shook her small head, tossing these strange thoughts out of her brain. She just wanted to survive, not intentionally harm people.
Her malice was built on anyone who'd hurt her or block her path. Her worldview was simple: whoever wanted her dead, she'd make die.
She trusted no one—neither Kariya Matou nor her Master Kirei Kotomine.
She believed betrayal was people's normal state. Even blood-related parents would betray their own children for various strange reasons. Others thought about how others wouldn't betray them. She thought about why others wouldn't betray her.
"Need to quickly leave here. The conflict's been stirred up, the chain of suspicion between Tokiomi Tohsaka and Zouken Matou is formed. I also need to go to Fuyuki City Self-Defense Force's armory..."
"Ah, see, Bluebeard? I said it was around here. Now we found her~"
"?"
Unhurriedly leaving the Matou family's range, pondering whether to steal sniper rifles or high-intensity explosives tonight—or take both—Miss Illya heard a voice from a nearby alley and paused slightly.
Somewhat puzzled, she turned her head. From the dark alley's depths emerged a sunny man with orange hair wearing Fuyuki City's common casual clothes, hands adorned with numerous magical energy-emitting accessories, smiling as he led a large group of children out. Those children's eyes were all vacant, like puppets who'd lost self-awareness, only knowing to follow him.
This was precisely Ryuunosuke Uryuu, the death artist who'd regrettably slipped away from Miss Illya yesterday afternoon!
But wait—wasn't this guy's family fallen? Basic magic probably no one taught him to practice. Where'd he get so many magical tools?
Plus catching so many people at once—wasn't he afraid of being caught by Church people for summary execution?
The children surrounding Ryuunosuke Uryuu had clearly been hit by hypnosis magic. Actually Miss Illya had anticipated he'd come find her. After all, she'd never removed the tracking magic mark he'd left on her. Just slightly surprised how quickly he found her—she hadn't even gotten to the Self-Defense Force armory for major shopping yet.
"You—you're that big brother Ryuunosuke who took me to the police station yesterday afternoon?"
Miss Illya first showed pleased surprise recognizing him, then timidly shrank her neck as if somewhat afraid.
After all, Ryuunosuke Uryuu's current situation was too bizarre—all those children following behind, just like specialized child traffickers. Normal children seeing this scene would basically feel afraid.
"Well well, looks like you still remember me, little sister? Are you lost again now?"
The sunny, innocent Ryuunosuke Uryuu tilted his head. Very excited by the fear Miss Illya displayed, though still seeming like a warm neighborhood big brother on the surface.
"No, no. My home is around here. Big brother, it's getting dark. I need to go home for dinner. Do you want to come home with me too? My mom and dad heard about you and also really want to thank you in person..." Miss Illya made herself seem as calm yet not particularly calm as possible, barely supporting a kind smile while subtly moving her feet backward.
Seeing this, Ryuunosuke Uryuu didn't get angry—just held his forehead and sighed:
"If it were normal times, I'd be happy to visit your home. But right now big brother is also very busy, so I have to advance things a bit. After all, can't keep Bluebeard waiting too long~"
"Wha—?"
Before his words finished, Ryuunosuke Uryuu raised the magical tool on his hand.
The pretty accessory trembled a few times. Then a slight magical energy wave rapidly attacked Miss Illya. Hypnotic confusion magic successfully activated.
The next moment, Miss Illya's expression gradually became dull, turning into a soulless puppet like the other children.
This item like a hypnosis app in games made ordinary people observing it become the holder's toys.
"Distance approximately twenty-five meters. Can't rule out he still has some life-saving trump cards. With current C+ rank agility, somewhat difficult to one-shot kill. Plus behind him there's considerable magical energy waves. Assassin came along too..."
Ah ptooey! Should be Caster. Pretending to be hypnotized, Miss Illya wasn't hurried either. Hypnosis magic was useless against Heroic Spirit Servants.
Higher Mystery suppressed lower Mystery. Unless it was higher-level charm skills even more advanced than Heroic Spirit Servants, most situations were wasted effort.
Just without activating Noble Phantasms or summoning familiar legions, her killing power was too humorous. Plus Ryuunosuke Uryuu clearly didn't come alone. Waiting for him to get closer before acting was fine.
"Oh, this is the saint who made your heart flutter, Ryuunosuke? Looks indeed somewhat extraordinary."
The bizarre black sorcerer holding a magic tome, sharp nails stroking his chin, walked out from behind Ryuunosuke Uryuu. Simultaneously felt an inexplicable attraction from Miss Illya—an instinctive favorable first impression.
He and Ryuunosuke's values differed from ordinary people. Someone who could make him feel a good first impression was truly rarer than one in ten thousand.
Of course, compared to that saint in his heart, she was just so-so.
Not even half a magical energy wave on her body—just an ordinary-looking little girl who seemed quite pleasant.
"I prayed wholeheartedly for Saint's revival, waited for the miracle of meeting Saint again. Even came to time's end like this... Jeanne."
Thinking of that exhausted saint after battle he'd personally gone to greet last night, the black sorcerer couldn't help his veins bulging.
Because his saint had amnesia, was mentally confused claiming to be some Knight King of Britain's kingdom.
Moreover she insulted him. Though he'd gladly accept the saint's insults—could even call it a reward—the saint's mental confusion still made him very uncomfortable.
"Damn! Damn! Damn! That damned impostor! The bastard impersonating my class!"
"The saint actually said I wasn't qualified to call myself Caster at all. The real Caster isn't me, this disgusting mentally confused person who can't even recognize familiar people from life. If I dare walk as Caster again, she'll wager her honor to eliminate me!"
The swordwoman at that time, even in poor condition, drew her sword on the spot. Got him all confused.
What the hell—even classes had impostors these days? Clearly that unmemorable bastard was the impostor. He was the proper, genuine, real Caster.
The saint actually drew her sword on him because of an impostor. Angered him so much that even now he gnashed his teeth at that impostor of unknown class who'd completely bamboozled his saint. Wished he could have a fair knightly duel on the spot to determine who truly qualified to follow the saint as her pursuer.
"Bluebeard, calm down first. That Caster with your abilities, I believe..."
"I'm Caster! I'm Caster! I am! Ahh I am!"
"Uh, okay okay, you are."
Seeing the black sorcerer going mad again, Ryuunosuke Uryuu could only helplessly spread his hands.
Since yesterday night visiting that blonde knight woman, his Bluebeard had become like this. Mentioning "Caster" triggered him like stress reaction—wished he could devour flesh and drink blood. Like a goddess got a new love then dumped him.
"Just wait! Damned impostor! Once I complete treatment for Saint tonight, I'll definitely find you for a decisive battle to see who's the real Caster recognized by Saint!"
Sharp nails scratched his head. He looked at the children surrounding him, then at Miss Illya still pretending to be hypnotized.
He walked viciously from the alley to the roadside, opening the large truck's rear cargo hold parked by the road.
Then the children by Ryuunosuke Uryuu's side all seemed to receive new instructions, successively walking into the cargo hold like goods being delivered somewhere.
"...Why do I feel like he really has issues with me?" Miss Illya inwardly complained. But seeing this scene, she obediently followed behind the other children.
Together entering the cargo hold where she sensed no magical energy waves.
Watching Miss Illya also walk in, Ryuunosuke Uryuu scratched his head quite troubled, seemingly somewhat reluctant.
"Bluebeard, how about leaving that child to me? I feel she's nature's gift to me. Needs a grand theatrical program to magnificently taste and appreciate..."
"Hehe, don't worry, Ryuunosuke. I absolutely won't waste such excellent material. I can sense my Noble Phantasm hungers for her flesh."
Weirdly laughing while patting the reluctant Ryuunosuke Uryuu's shoulder, the black sorcerer handed him a purple crystal ball.
"Watch carefully."
The black sorcerer infused magical energy into the crystal ball, making it follow his perspective.
Treating his Master Ryuunosuke Uryuu, he was surprisingly gentle and patient.
"I'm treating the saint. I absolutely won't disappoint you."
"Tonight, her death will be incomparably grand. Will be medicine healing Saint's sanity for me. Will also be... my declaration of war against that damned impostor Caster!"
In Fuyuki City's Einzbern castle, a vacant-eyed man gazed at the light snow outside the window while lighting a cigarette.
Current circumstances troubled this man. Originally he'd located the Lancer Master's hotel. According to original plans, last night he should have used explosives to blow up that entire hotel converted into a magic workshop, making that spearman who'd injured his Servant exit.
The spearman's True Name was Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. When he released his magic spear Noble Phantasm before, any Master with historical knowledge had basically looked up his identity.
But obviously, plans couldn't keep up with changes. Miss Illya's sudden assassination plus driving the entire rhythm to subjugate King Gilgamesh directly made him, due to using Innate Time Control magic overloading internally, forced to play dead all night. By the time he fully recovered mobility, dawn had broken. Plus the first night had already kicked this Holy Grail War's strongest Servant out of the game.
Honestly, hearing this news, he was completely dazed. Someone exited the Holy Grail War's first night? And the strongest Servant exited? Was he not awake or hearing wrong? Was this explosive yet wonderful opening really the Holy Grail War?
"The irregular eighth Servant summoned—Gilles de Rais. The Church even offered one Command Seal as reward for whoever could subjugate him."
"This is undoubtedly crucial for current circumstances. After last night's port dock subjugation war against Archer, other Masters and Servants basically only have two Command Seals left. If we can first expel the violator, holding four Command Seals gives us huge advantages, becoming this Holy Grail War's most likely victorious camp."
Kiritsugu Emiya took a drag on his cigarette, speaking flatly to the black-suited blonde girl in the strategy meeting room. Her obviously dissatisfied gaze—even without looking, he could sense it.
Gáe Dearg that broke magic. Gáe Buidhe that inflicted wounds that wouldn't heal.
These were the two powerful magic spears Diarmuid possessed, the fundamental reason the unprepared swordwomen was injured.
During the port dock battle, the spearman's Gáe Dearg penetrated the swordwomen's magical armor. Gáe Buidhe pierced the swordwomen's right wrist. The waist wound from Gáe Dearg was manageable, but the wrist wound—due to its Noble Phantasm's special property—couldn't heal as long as the spearman lived.
Most critically, the swordwomen's Noble Phantasm required both hands intact, ten fingers gripping the holy sword tightly to release. This was their side's greatest disadvantage.
"Saber, you should understand the current situation. Gilles de Rais is mentally deranged, mistook you for Jeanne and fixated on you. This is both good and bad for us. Next we just need to wait for that violator Servant to come to us..."
"You were awake very early, right? During Archer's subjugation war, you were only half-unconscious, not without consciousness. Meaning you could have used Command Seals then."
The swordwomen's emerald eyes stared intently at Kiritsugu Emiya. She'd felt suspicious after the port dock battle ended. After all, her output and contribution in that battle infinitely approached zero. Truly smashed her pride and dignity to nothing.
Thinking carefully now, where was the problem with her? Clearly while everyone desperately fought, betting all and gambling with lives, only his Master played dead without giving her support.
"Your hand was wounded by Gáe Buidhe. You couldn't release your Noble Phantasm. What use would Command Seal support be?" Kiritsugu Emiya's expression didn't change, tone flat.
He truly could have used Command Seals then. But in his rational judgment, completely unnecessary. After all, everyone supported—one more of him wasn't much, one less wasn't little either. Why must he gamble his life like others? Even if others lost in the end, at worst he'd use Command Seals to summon the swordwomen back.
As for Archer King Gilgamesh's strength being excessive? One Servant couldn't handle it?
That wasn't within his consideration scope. Because Heroic Spirit Servants being excessive didn't mean Masters were excessive.
As a Magus Killer, if he couldn't beat King Gilgamesh, couldn't he beat Tokiomi Tohsaka the Master?
Other groups—especially Lancer Diarmuid dying in the port dock battle—also suited his intentions. Once the swordwomen's wounds healed and she could release her Noble Phantasm, she could potentially stall King Gilgamesh. During that brief stalling time, he'd have decent confidence along with his assistant Maiya Hisau to successfully assassinate that arrogantly complacent Tohsaka family current head and make him exit.
"As expected—you were conscious then!" The swordwomen couldn't help clenching her fist.
Clearly if she'd received Command Seal support then, she could have produced decent output, at least not worse than others. The final moment needn't have been so dangerous. Could even have ended the battle earlier.
"Now is the Holy Grail War, not some playing-house knightly duel scene."
For the swordwomen's dissatisfaction, Kiritsugu Emiya just slowly exhaled cigarette smoke. He couldn't understand the significance of the swordwomen adhering to rigid chivalry.
He only knew such rigid thinking was foolish. On battlefields, who'd discuss knightly spirit with you?
"I have no obligation or necessity to fight a battle with slim victory probability for your so-called honor. You in perfect condition could still be wounded by Lancer. How much more you who can't even successfully use your Noble Phantasm—how could you make me believe you could defeat Archer, stronger than the Lancer who wounded you?"
"But there was a chance then! Everyone was desperately fighting! Everyone wagered everything! Whether Caster or other Heroic Spirit Servants, all knew they couldn't beat that rude king. But we all gave our all creating hope!"
"That's because they didn't face Archer's trump cards. But we have trump cards. They didn't fight desperately, then they'd exit. We don't fight desperately, rest and recuperate—we can gain victory from other aspects."
"You...!"
The swordwomen was nearly laughing from anger. Of course she understood what Kiritsugu Emiya meant.
But she completely couldn't comprehend—after witnessing that Golden King's strength, where he got the confidence to successfully assassinate his Master. Kiritsugu Emiya could mock her for not understanding magus arrogance. She more wanted to mock Kiritsugu Emiya for not understanding Heroic Spirit Servants' terror. That Golden King if slightly on guard—even flying a fighter jet, you absolutely couldn't touch his Master's hair.
"What about Illyasviel? Even Illyasviel bet her life fighting."
"Do you think my alliance with her, our covenant—was also false? Or do you fundamentally refuse to acknowledge that was actually Illyasviel?"
The swordwomen, laughing from anger, took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the impulse to curse rudely.
She discovered her emotions growing increasingly volatile. She knew her compatibility with this man before her was terrible to the extreme. In this man's eyes, no matter what she did was wrong. Similarly in her eyes, the man's actions disgusted her.
Heroic Spirits and Masters lived in different eras. Kiritsugu Emiya thought the swordwomen adhering to chivalry was stupid. But in the swordwomen's thinking, in that era's environment she was in, she had nothing. Only people's smiles could warm her. She followed chivalry, treated people well—all to give people more such smiles.
Kiritsugu Emiya differed greatly from the swordwomen. His era had no noble idiot knights like the swordwomen. What he'd experienced destined him unable to recognize such inconvenient, inefficient righteousness as the swordwomen's. Modern enemies wouldn't discuss chivalry with you. Only competed who killed the other first.
Honestly, Kiritsugu Emiya originally wanted to summon Assassin to hide in shadows together hunting other Masters. That suited his combat style.
Unfortunately, because the first three Holy Grail Wars' Assassin performances were too poor, plus Einzbern had prepared holy relics for Kiritsugu Emiya to summon powerful Knight-class Servants, he had no choice but to summon this swordwomen.
"Alliance? Holy Grail War alliances—how laughable! The omnipotent wish-granting machine can only be held by one person. So-called allies are just time bombs that can betray you anytime for profit."
Miss Illya didn't believe in any alliances. Kiritsugu Emiya likewise didn't believe in alliances.
They were both types who fundamentally didn't trust anyone, only viewing others from their own perspective—scoundrels.
Hearing this, the swordwomen didn't get annoyed—just coldly laughed as if "as expected":
"Kiritsugu Emiya, you should understand—if Illyasviel had wanted to ambush and kill you then, you'd already be dead."
"When encountering powerful enemies, she..."
"Not when that Golden King arrived. The very beginning when Diarmuid and I fought. At that time if Illyasviel assassinated you, with her stealth assassination of that Golden King's agility and decisiveness—do you really think you could dodge? Her agility attribute is undoubtedly A+ rank. Just casually over a dozen familiar legions aren't terrifying enemies you could handle. Yet you successfully survived. Survived under a Heroic Spirit Servant magus possessing superb stealth abilities. Don't tell me you think your own strength exceeds hers?"
"..."
Miss Illya's assassinations were twice. The first wave could be understood as Innate Time Control and flash grenades catching her off-guard, dodging the first assault.
But the second time, even Kiritsugu Emiya couldn't explain clearly. He just simply called out her name. She made the blade that should have taken his life deviate.
Based on the port dock battle's late-stage situation, Illyasviel's speed was far more than initially shown.
Even the Golden King in full golden armor couldn't dodge Illyasviel's stealth assassination.
What virtue or ability did he, a Magus Killer, have to evade it? Couldn't be that calling out Illyasviel's True Name made her mental state problematic then, right? Or Illyasviel's early-stage strength and late-stage strength weren't on the same level?
These excuses obviously were all impossible. So could only be explained as Illyasviel showing mercy then, not truly wanting to kill him.
"Maybe that was her disguise? She's not Illya, just knew beforehand Archer would arrive, so roamed the entire field driving the war's rhythm gathering strength..."
"No, she is Illya. Kiritsugu, that's our daughter. Believe me!"
The long-silent Irisviel suddenly spoke. She could understand her husband's caution and care.
After all, to obtain Holy Grail War victory, he'd prepared and invested too much effort. But that night honestly speaking, without Miss Illya's help, she'd probably have died. Her husband and the swordwomen couldn't have been spared either.
"If Illya truly had malice, she could have directly killed us and left, right? With her speed and agility—unless that golden gentleman specially focused attacks on her—how could she be unable to leave?"
"Moreover, Illya brought us away from the battlefield. Illya also gave Saber magical energy replenishment!"
"Afterward we encountered Berserker's pursuit and blockade. Also Illya who stayed behind alone to hold the line, letting me take you away from that dangerous warehouse first. Illya from start to finish was just a Caster with not excellent attributes. Kiritsugu, can you understand what it means for a Caster to face a Berserker with excellent attributes alone at close range? If that Matou family Master had any ideas then, she might never have been able to leave!"
Irisviel rarely spoke so many words at once. Her tone rarely trembled with such emotion.
Because even Miss Illya herself didn't know—in others' eyes, how noble her actions and behavior as a chaotic evil Servant appeared.
Her assassination became multiple rescues. Her failure became her simply unwilling to harm Kiritsugu Emiya, intentionally holding back. Her wanting to poison Kiritsugu Emiya and Irisviel became her staying behind alone to hold the line, buying escape time for those she wanted to protect.
She was very unfortunate.
But also had a certain inexplicably following subtle fortune.
The bad things she did became good things in others' eyes, wildly pulling other groups' favorable impressions.
The result was forcibly pushing King Gilgamesh out on the first night.
"Iri, becoming a Heroic Spirit Servant requires achievements and legends. Illya couldn't possibly have these in the modern era. The future even less possible to have them. The Age of Gods has receded. How could she become a Heroic Spirit Servant? This fundamentally doesn't make sense, does it?"
Burying his head again to light another cigarette, Kiritsugu Emiya didn't look at Irisviel whose eyes reddened again, calmly explaining.
The Age of Gods had already ended. Modern magical world—even Clock Tower's Crown magi had slim chances of becoming Heroic Spirit Servants. How could Illya possibly become a Heroic Spirit Servant?
Can't be deceived by surface phenomena. Illya showing mercy was correct.
But couldn't unconsciously ignore certain most basic problems because of that.
He understood his own daughter. Moreover, before participating in this Holy Grail War, they'd reached an agreement with the Einzbern family—even if they unfortunately failed or suffered disaster in this Holy Grail War, Einzbern family members would still treat Illyasviel well.
Where would the hostility toward him and Iri like last night come from?
Even calling out her name showed extreme agitation, like a lunatic who hated them to the bone.
Illyasviel von Einzbern shouldn't have hatred. Or rather, shouldn't have such hatred. After all, in his impression, her childhood was fairly happy.
"We can tacitly accept the alliance matter but can't take it seriously. Whether that Caster is Illya still requires discussion. Our current urgent priority is first taking care of the one the Church issued wanted order for..."
"What if Illyasviel gained Fifth Holy Grail War victory?"
"You think a normally thinking person would wish to become a Heroic Spirit Servant..."
"No, but if Illyasviel contacted Root in the future, was praised by the world and established great deeds afterward—then the possibility of becoming a Heroic Spirit Servant isn't impossible, right?"
The swordwomen looked coldly at Kiritsugu Emiya trying to change the subject, avoid discussing.
Normal people or magi wouldn't wish to become part of the Throne of Heroes after gaining Holy Grail War victory. But wishing to contact Root, glimpse part of Root—very normal. If Illyasviel made such a wish in the future, even became a Magician, then gaining renown, establishing great achievements in modern times—not really difficult either.
"Also Illya's assassination and stealth abilities. Kiritsugu Emiya, don't you find them familiar? Precisely finding Masters, hiding in shadows using bait to fish. I even have reason to suspect Illyasviel possesses firearms and other weapons."
"But these are all just one possibility, one speculation—small probability events!"
BANG! A table-slapping sound rang in the meeting room!
Kiritsugu Emiya coldly spoke, expressionless, interrupting the swordwomen's baseless speculation.
He didn't know if Magicians or Root contactors could qualify to ascend as Heroic Spirit Servants after death. But he knew he didn't want to hear these words.
A magus possessing decent assassination fishing methods—he understood this matter all too clearly. But so what? These proved no facts.
"Hmph! Actually you understand everything, Kiritsugu Emiya. You understand better than me and Iri!"
TAP—ding ding ding.
The magical technique triggered, emitting light ringing sounds echoing in this hall.
Though incomparable to Germany's Einzbern main castle's protective measures, Fuyuki City's Einzbern castle also established many magics obstructing invaders.
Now triggered only meant one thing—enemy attack.
The discussion meeting was forcibly interrupted.
The swordwomen could only finally look coldly at the still-stubborn Kiritsugu Emiya:
"You don't want to acknowledge it because you don't dare acknowledge it. Illyasviel hates you!"
"You know very clearly—because neither you nor Iri went home. The ultimate Grail victory holder... fundamentally wasn't you!"
You know it clearly—better than anyone!
That IS Illyasviel von Einzbern, your daughter, your little princess!
But you also want to deny this fact more than anyone, because her appearance in this Holy Grail War has already proven from the side that your future will fail!
Kiritsugu Emiya, are you denying Illya? No, you're only denying the ending where you can't win the Holy Grail War—you can't accept that after wagering everything you still fail, that your daughter in the future will hate you so much. You're far more clearheaded than us. Irisviel is emotional, but you possess only rationality!
Do you know why our compatibility is terrible? Because we both refuse to believe certain facts laid before us. We both like deceiving ourselves with fantasies we imagine. We're both stubborn fools advancing toward dead ends we think hold hope and possibility—until we bash our heads bloody!
The swordwomen had already left for outside the castle to meet the enemy, but her pointed, clearheaded words lingered long in this strategy meeting room.
Making Kiritsugu Emiya smoke cigarette after cigarette, using nicotine to constantly calm his heart.
"Kiritsugu... Saber's tone may have been problematic. I hope you won't mind."
"She's changed considerably. At least from a naive Knight King to a king who knows her own naivety yet still willingly persists stubbornly toward that naive direction."
For the uneasy Irisviel's consolation as she approached his side, Kiritsugu Emiya just shook his head lightly without minding much. He even thought the swordwomen's transformation was a good thing. At least she was no longer that foolishly simple knight from before.
Using magic to activate the crystal ball on the table—the central control for surveillance magic spread around Einzbern, allowing observation of intruders near the castle.
Soon, an ugly-looking black sorcerer appeared in the crystal ball.
The image of him leading a group of hypnotized children through the forest.
"Do you also think I should give up the Holy Grail War and return to Einzbern to take Illya away after seeing her?" Kiritsugu Emiya signaled Maiya Hisau to leave temporarily.
Staring intently at the crystal ball's image, he spoke flatly to Irisviel.
Just as the swordwomen said, he understood everything—just unwilling to face reality, afraid to acknowledge Caster was Illyasviel.
"I think... that's also unrealistic. Directly abandoning the Holy Grail War violates the contract with the Einzbern family—that's betraying them. Plus Saber wouldn't agree to giving up either. She told me she also has a wish she must fulfill..."
Irisviel hesitated a few seconds before giving a fairly neutral, rational answer.
Though she too wanted to abandon the Holy Grail War and reunite with her daughter, this was simply pure fantasy. She was destined to die in the Holy Grail War—this was the fate of being the Lesser Grail. If she directly left, never mind how the Einzbern family would treat her, Kiritsugu, and Illya—just the Tohsaka and Matou families would pursue them endlessly after the Einzbern family's Lesser Grail suddenly went missing.
"Saber wants to win. I also want to win. Just that Saber will take the gamble even knowing she'll probably lose, hoping to fight for possibility—while I don't want to acknowledge future failure. We're completely opposite."
Extinguishing the still-burning cigarette in his hand, Kiritsugu Emiya sighed deeply:
"But on one point Saber and I are consistent—we're both willing to wager everything to win this Holy Grail War. Even if we fail, we absolutely won't regret it."
Kid, your father really gave you quite a fitting name.
Kid, your Origin is "Severing" and "Binding." This differs somewhat from "Destruction" and "Rebirth."
A severed then reconnected thread—that knotted part will differ in thickness from the original, right? Your Origin is similar—contains irreversible qualitative change. Severing and binding, written as Kiritsugu. This Mystic Code and you, kid, are a match made in heaven.
Those were words his mentor Natalia Kaminski once told him while alive. She didn't belong to any organizational power—a freelancer who only moved for bounty rewards. She'd shown him many tragic births and final loneliness, also saved many humans. Made him see this world actually wasn't beautiful. He'd thought living like that wasn't bad, until finally she executed a mission entering a plane full of Dead Apostles.
To prevent that plane from landing, to prevent those Dead Apostles inside from spreading and causing countless casualties, she had him shoot down that plane.
He personally killed her—this mentor who'd raised him traveling the world, no blood relation but closer than blood kin.
His worldview was reset at that moment. Something inside him started breaking.
"Long ago, when I was small, I had a friend. She begged me to kill her."
"While she could still stay conscious, kill her with my own hands. She was my childhood friend, once my best companion. I even once considered her my closest family. If it were you, Iri, would you choose to kill this closest family member?"
Seeing Kiritsugu Emiya barely manage to pull up a faint smile, Irisviel fell silent several seconds. This question was like asking if she'd harm him or Illya. Her answer was definitely no—because that was family. No matter what happened, that was her most beloved family.
"I..."
"You wouldn't. Neither would the indecisive me back then."
"What was the result? How did it turn out?"
"I couldn't bring myself to kill her. Then after becoming a Dead Apostle, she completely slaughtered everyone in my childhood village. Hundreds or even thousands died in that one night because of my indecisiveness."
Her name was Shirley.
A sinner, but aside from Natalia, the first to make him feel justice's importance.
Kiritsugu Emiya looked at the stunned Irisviel, opening his heart:
"Every time, choices are placed before me. Like the trolley problem in moral ethics."
"I never thought anyone was qualified to become that trolley track switcher choosing to save many people or save few people. But reality keeps making me choose. Even though I fundamentally don't want to choose, it still makes me choose... whether to save the few or save the many."
He knew this made him a bastard. But whether Shirley or Natalia's incidents—both forced him to choose. And he had to choose.
Was this justice? He couldn't say clearly. This was just what he personally considered justice.
From start to finish he'd been very conscious—he didn't deserve to choose. No one in the world deserved to make the trolley problem choice. But reality makes you must choose, must choose one side. And indecisiveness means both sides die. So what should be done? Kiritsugu Emiya couldn't distinguish. Maybe even he himself had no answer. Could only try avoiding becoming the person making choices, saving the majority of people he could save in his own way.
"Kiritsugu, I don't understand. Your participating in the Holy Grail War..." Irisviel hesitated several seconds.
"I want to use the Grail to eliminate the world's evil. Or rather, I want to seek an answer—have the Grail give me the answer of what kind of justice truly makes evil recede. This is my reason for participating in the Holy Grail War."
In this Holy Grail War, everyone had obsessions—wishes they wanted to fulfill by giving their all.
Tokiomi Tohsaka pursued glimpsing Root's mysteries.
Waver Velvet sought his mentor's recognition.
Kariya Matou wanted the resented Tokiomi Tohsaka to pay the price, didn't want to be outdone by him.
Ryuunosuke Uryuu explored death's true artistic heaven.
Kirei Kotomine tried finding his heart's true desire.
And Kiritsugu Emiya wanted an answer for executing justice most of his life—wanted to know the world's true salvation, so-called ally of justice.
"Do you know what my first thought was after seeing Illya? I wondered whether I'd obtained the answer, whether that answer was what I wanted. Did I lose? Or did I win then receive the answer and commit suicide with a broken heart?" Kiritsugu Emiya's expression didn't change, eyes holding a trace of determination:
"You saw hatred toward us on Illya. But I saw certain firm persistence on her. Like me, she has her own persistent obsession."
"She's my daughter. I know very clearly. But that doesn't mean I'll concede defeat."
"I'm not a qualified father. I'm a bastard, scoundrel, villain. I don't know how I wronged Illya in the future, why in a Holy Grail War held once every sixty years, Illya at what looks like barely in her teens or even younger became a Heroic Spirit Servant. Could the next Holy Grail War violate rules and start early? But future is future, present is present. If I intentionally fail now and abandon the Holy Grail War, what guarantees the tragedy won't repeat? Maybe in Illya's past, I gave up the Holy Grail War—who knows?"
"I can't see clearly, don't plan to think carefully about past-future paradoxes. I only know Illya wants to win, Saber also wants to win, I likewise want victory. That's already enough."
Moreover, if he dared back down, the swordwomen wouldn't let him off easy.
They all wanted to win. Regardless whether the road ahead was clear, just keep walking forward.
A person lives a lifetime finally having the possibility of fulfilling their lifelong wish.
If having to consider this and that—how could it possibly be realized? Everyone in this Holy Grail War was obsessive. He also knew very clearly he'd probably die and lose. But so what? If not fighting and striving now, what future opportunity could realize his dream?
Failure or death—he wanted to fight and gamble for his wish. Even if the ending was tragic, at least he could obtain an answer.
Obtain an ending others couldn't understand—a life pursuing justice wanting to become an ally of justice.
Illya's appearance also gave him a choice problem. And this time he just as always... made a choice.
Wrong.
Death.
All fine.
This was his obsession—like all participants, the resolve to persist through.
He wasn't a good person. Because people who could become magi were basically never good people. But he wanted to win, wanted the Grail, wanted to win to the very end.
"According to last night's agreement, Caster Gilles de Rais has come to visit the Saint's dwelling."
"I hope to see my beautiful Saint Jeanne once more. You may inform her at leisure. I originally planned to wait patiently, so I made appropriate preparations to treat the Saint."
In the dark, mist-filled black forest, the black sorcerer politely introduced himself. His frog-like large eyes seemed to see through the crystal ball surveillance, see through the clairvoyance magic arranged in the surroundings.
Miss Illya following at the back of the children tried hard to lower her presence.
Simultaneously feeling somewhat puzzled by the black sorcerer's actions. What was he doing here?
Was this still within Fuyuki City? Also what was this Saint Jeanne thing?
Was that French village girl saint also summoned?
"Can there really be an eighth-class Servant? My random words became reality again?"
Searching mentally for similar terrain, in the distance stood a gorgeous, tall castle standing in the forest. If no mistake, this should be the Einzbern family's Fuyuki City base. Every Holy Grail War's main family participants would station here.
Miss Illya deduced this far, involuntarily blinking in some puzzlement. Because she remembered the Einzbern family's summoned Servant was Britain's Knight King. What did that have to do with France's Saint Jeanne?
"Could that Saber big sister also fake her name like me? But Britain seems to belong to the English Empire, while being France Empire's Saint Jeanne?"
"Faking a name to deceive people wouldn't use Britain's Knight King, right? Plus England and France have been mortal enemies since ancient times. Saint Jeanne was also active when English King Edward III led armies attacking France, opening the curtain on the Hundred Years' War. A French spiritual leader claiming to be Britain's Knight King, this this this..."
Feeling quite awkward and strange internally, Miss Illya didn't quite understand this behavior's specific significance. Just could sense that if Saint Jeanne's followers were still alive, hearing their saint claim to be Britain's Knight King would make their mentality somewhat explosive.
After all, in a sense, Saint Jeanne was captured by English armies and ultimately executed by burning at the stake publicly.
Actually Miss Illya's thinking wasn't wrong. The black sorcerer, hearing the swordwomen say she was the Knight King, nearly went mad to collapse.
"Damned gods! Hateful gods! Actually making my followed saint think she's king of that backwater Britain!" The black sorcerer also thought furiously internally. Actually he didn't plan being too extreme—just that his saint was already so sick, without some stimulating treatment the effects would probably be minimal.
But on the surface, still a polite, courteous posture, looking fairly normal.
"I know the Saint is watching... All right, children, it's time to play hide and seek~"
Snap. The black sorcerer lightly snapped his fingers.
Nearly half of the dozens of hypnotized children beside him woke at this moment.
They looked around in confusion. Whether little boys or girls, all showed fearful, timid postures, instinctively curling up.
"Wh-where is this? Daddy? Mommy?"
"I want to go home, I want to go home. Daddy, Mommy, where are you?"
"How am I here? Where's that big brother? Didn't that big brother say he'd take me home..."
Aside from a few still following behind the black sorcerer serving as reserve materials, the other children were quickly making noise crying and fussing. Some even sat directly on the ground shouting loudly, tears unstoppably flowing from their eyes.
"Children, hide and seek's rules are very simple. Just don't get caught by me."
The black sorcerer clapped his hands, attracting the children's attention. Then kindly placed his hand on a small child's head, using a bit of force to lift them up:
"If you're unfortunately caught by me... you'll receive punishment like this."
CRUSH! CRACK! The child's head in his hand was directly crushed by the black sorcerer's disgusting claws!
Brains and blood immediately splattered out, making the other children around who saw this scene instantly fall silent!
Then...
"AHHHH!"
Scream after scream broke the forest's silence. The awakened children all scattered desperately fleeing, like seeing some terrifying man-eating monster!
Miss Illya's expression remained unchanged—just obediently staying with the few still-hypnotized children within ten meters of the black sorcerer.
Without Noble Phantasm transformation, her stats were too humorous. Strength probably even a grade lower than the black sorcerer's. Still had to wait for some timing to conceal using the Noble Phantasm's magical energy wave for one-hit kill.
"All right, run quickly. I'll start chasing after counting to 100." The black sorcerer smiled humbly and politely, letting those out-of-control children scatter fleeing.
Unhurriedly used his robe to wipe the brains and blood staining his hands.
"Tell me, Jeanne, how long do you think I'll need to catch these children?"
"I'm the true legitimate Caster, the magus who can treat your sanity."
"If you still think I'm fake, why not see if that so-called Caster dares face me? She doesn't dare! That cowardly impostor doesn't even have courage to directly face me! I'm the one who should receive Saint's recognition as Caster!"
Outside the Einzbern family castle, mist rose in the forest. Bloody dampness filled this magical family's territory. As one of the Holy Grail War's Big Three families, the Einzbern family's financial resources and influence naturally couldn't compare with the other two great families. Even though the main house wasn't in Fuyuki City, their territory headquarters was completely no worse than the Matou and Tohsaka families. Plus due to being homunculi, the Einzbern family basically had no lies and greatly valued contracts.
Whether the contract inviting Kiritsugu Emiya to participate in the war, or the promise that even if defeated they'd still care for Illyasviel von Einzbern—the Einzbern family seriously fulfilled all of it. This was also one of the reasons Kiritsugu Emiya most couldn't understand why Heroic Spirit Servant Miss Illya would hate them.
Because theoretically speaking, as long as he and Irisviel's side didn't violate the agreement, the Einzbern family shouldn't not treat Illyasviel well. Moreover, the Holy Grail War was once every sixty years. Even if needing the Lesser Grail, it wouldn't be Illya's turn. Why would Illya at what looked like such a young age already become a Heroic Spirit Servant?
He didn't understand, also couldn't comprehend. Everything was shrouded in mist. Assuming he lost, the Einzbern family would treat Illya well.
Assuming he won—even if the wish was his own—the Einzbern family would still treat Illya well.
Emotionally and rationally, regardless whether he ultimately lost or won, Illyasviel's life would be happy.
Unless he betrayed the Einzbern family—the kind of intolerable betrayal like flipping the table, making the Einzbern family furious.
But what could such betrayal be?
What could anger the Einzbern family, who for thousands of years had always devoted themselves to achieving the Third Magic to save the world? Kiritsugu Emiya couldn't quite figure it out.
He said he didn't want to think about it, but actually he thought deeper than Irisviel and the swordwomen. Because the problems on Illyasviel were truly too many. He could even deduce why Illyasviel could become Caster with terrifying magical energy—that was the suspected "Lesser Grail" legend upgrade of things possessed in life.
Only possessing such skills or Noble Phantasms could explain Illyasviel's exceptional magical energy.
But this raised another question: how would Illyasviel become the Lesser Grail?
Very strange. Contradictions everywhere. But the only thing Kiritsugu Emiya could confirm was that Illyasviel was definitely a terrifying great enemy. The Lesser Grail entering the Holy Grail War, backed by Fuyuki City's ley lines. If Illyasviel's stats were even slightly higher, she'd probably be the strongest beneath that Golden King.
"You irregularly-summoned eighth-class bastard, so wantonly massacring innocents without even sparing children—you also dare call yourself Caster-class, slandering that snow-white spirit? Clearly you're the impostor!"
Charging into the misty forest, the swordwomen holding her Invisible Sword coldly roared.
The black sorcerer's magical energy filled the surroundings. She looked left and right but didn't find his whereabouts. But she knew he was within her fifty-meter range. Her ahoge swayed left and right seeking enemies. Her Instinct skill's warning activation proved this from the side.
"Welcome, Jeanne."
"How do you find this tragedy? Very heartbreaking, right?"
A somewhat mad voice came from behind. The swordwomen immediately turned, preparing to attack, making the enemy taste what Knight-class stats meant.
However, seeing the black sorcerer's figure behind, hand gently stroking a trembling child's head, immediately made the swordwomen stop her desire to attack.
"Do you hate me? Of course you'd hate me. You absolutely won't forgive me for betraying God's love."
The black sorcerer talked to himself. Behind him, several hypnotized vacant-eyed children seemed like hostages restricting the swordwomen.
"But there's no helping it, my Saint Jeanne. You, France's pride, the French free people's will leader, actually claim to be the Knight King of that tiny Britain. Claiming to be the English region's king who fought France for a hundred years. Your sanity is so obscured and fallen, I have no choice but to use extreme methods to make you remember your glory in life."
"...Let those children go! Plus your sanity and brain have problems. I'm Celt, not English!"
What's your problem, randomly assigning me nationalities? Her birthplace was Britain.
Nationality was Rome. Race was Celt. What the hell does that have to do with English people?
The eras are completely different, okay? Her kingdom and England's establishment—how many years apart? How can they be connected? Saint Jeanne my ass. Truly calculating historical age, her age could be that French saint's ancestor.
"Hehehe, it's all the same, my Saint. You've even completely forgotten my French Empire's glory. Whether you claim to be English or Celt, both prove you're gravely ill." The black sorcerer covered his face laughing.
Then released his claws stroking the little boy below, letting him go.
"Since you so want to save these children, I naturally can't refuse Saint's command... All right children, be happier~"
"The devout messenger of God has come to save you. You can all freely leave now~"
Snap! The black sorcerer snapped his fingers. Behind him, most of the children immediately woke!
Aside from Miss Illya whom he'd promised Ryuunosuke to specially care for, seeming to remember something terrible, one after another they panicked fearfully, as if wanting to find some support, all running toward the distant swordwomen.
"Wuu wuu!"
"Sister, big sister, save me!"
The swordwomen with tense attention, seeing the very fearful children gathering around, momentarily put away her sharpness and fighting spirit, afraid of scaring these children.
"It's dangerous here. All right, you should leave first." The swordwomen touched the head of the child crying most fiercely among them. Her eyes held some gentleness, tone soft like a big sister. Completely different from the majestic knight who wanted to cut Miss Illya down on the spot when her Master was assassinated at the battlefield's start last night.
Watching this, Miss Illya still secretly observing was completely confused. No, you weren't like this when cutting me. Plus you really dare let these children approach? Your Instinct skill when hitting me was like turning on radar—why's it suddenly malfunctioning now?
Can't you see this guy's robes? Obviously someone who knows magic quite well!
"Keep walking forward and there'll be a huge castle. Inside will be a white big sister who'll open the door for you. After that she'll take you to safe places to hide..."
"RIP!"
As if confirming Miss Illya's thoughts, the next moment the swordwomen's pupils couldn't help dilating. Because the little boy before her suddenly exploded, his entire body's flesh becoming disgusting tentacles instantly entangling her!
Wha-what? Before her daze ended, the surrounding children and those who'd already escaped earlier now exploded one after another. In just seconds, the entire misty forest became a surging ocean of disgusting tentacle monsters!
But what shocked the swordwomen most wasn't these monsters, but all the children!
Dozens of fresh lives actually died completely in this instant!
"I should have already said—I'm Caster. Can that impostor perform summoning magic on this scale? Can they? HAHAHAHA!"
"Harming innocent children's lives, you also dare call yourself Caster!"
Wind King's magical energy surged explosively. The swordwomen raged, the instantly rising magical energy immediately tore apart the monsters entangling her body. Those were pitch-black snakes, like countless snakes coiled together, covered all over with octopus-like suckers. If weak-willed ordinary people saw such monsters, just gazing would drive that person directly mentally insane into madness!
But for Heroic Spirit Servants, the strongest of Knight-class, these monsters were just trash-like familiars. One magical energy burst could crush all surrounding ones. The swordwomen gripped her Invisible Sword and slashed forcefully!
The remaining children's corpses beneath the blood made her even angrier than being publicly insulted by King Gilgamesh!
"Someone like you, in my kingdom, would all be dragged to the execution ground for public beheading!"
Terrifying stat power displayed here. The monsters attempting omnidirectional attacks on the swordwomen were cut down in the blink of an eye. She didn't need fancy abilities, didn't need to specially guard against monster attacks. Because her magical energy had recovered.
Though incomparable to the blood-supplied magical energy period from Illyasviel, absolutely not something this low-level human wave tactics could resist. Whether speed or strength, she undoubtedly exceeded these monsters. Could even say these monsters couldn't see her movements before already becoming powerless corpses. In a sense, possibly easier than the flying White Stork Knights. Flexibility and Miss Illya's familiar legions weren't even on the same level.
One, two, three, four, five... But when slaying the thirtieth aberrant monster, the swordwomen finally discovered something wrong.
Why were there still so many? Calculating one monster per child, where did he get so many summons?
"Division, rebirth, suppression by quantity level. But why only one type?"
"This summoning magic is even more monotonous than my thread magic?"
Behind the black sorcerer, Miss Illya easily saw those monsters' situation. After being killed, corpses would perform secondary summoning rebirth. Similar to her White Stork Knights—as long as magical energy supply was sufficient, could play human wave suppression.
But differently, these monsters had higher lethality plus built-in mental pollution.
While her White Stork Knights had higher agility. Plus due to essentially being thread magic, could switch external forms. Summoning division was just one branch attack method.
Roughly like stats couldn't match, mechanisms comprehensively crushed.
Somewhat strange. Logically as legitimate Caster-class, the black sorcerer should have more methods. Not mentioning more—giving his own summons strengthening magic should be possible, right? Why did he look even more pathetic than her, this half-baked Assassin? Really not even a magic circle. Completely relying on summons attacking. Not as versatile as her thread magic.
But whatever. Miss Illya saw monsters rampaging, various magical energies interwoven in this misty forest. Plus the black sorcerer's attention completely shifted from herself.
She also quietly produced from behind... a golden card covered in spiderweb cracks...
"Jeanne, ah! How sublime, how brave!"
"My Saint, before you, even the gods must pale!"
The misty forest had already become another world. Aberrant monsters multiplying to over a hundred danced boiling. Under moonlight's illumination filling every forest corner, the swordwomen's magical energy was rapidly being consumed and ground down.
As if accustomed last night to Miss Illya's blood supply magical energy, she now unexpectedly consecutively three or four times opened magical energy impacts. With extremely high magical energy consumption, she exchanged closing distance with the black sorcerer. Forcibly advancing in dozens of seconds, slaying over sixty monsters.
But unfortunately, the black sorcerer was crazy but not stupid. Her magical energy wasn't sufficient to break through here completely. After all, this time she didn't have Illyasviel to feed from.
The black sorcerer just leisurely retreated several steps. The distance the swordwomen closed was filled by monsters.
"Shut up! France's Bluebeard! If your Saint were still alive seeing your disgusting appearance, surely she'd be so angry she'd commit suicide on the spot! So cruelly harming a group of innocent children—did you eat all of Saint Jeanne's mercy and kindness from life? As Saint Jeanne's former subordinate being so fallen, in my view you shouldn't call yourself Gilles de Rais anymore. Because Saint Jeanne absolutely wouldn't acknowledge scum like you as that marshal who fought alongside her!"
"...You truly are mentally confused, not being so special as you were in life."
Somewhat stunned by this sudden heart-attacking insult, the black sorcerer couldn't help puzzling over his Saint Jeanne—when did she become so aggressive?
Cursing people without a single dirty word, directly attacking others' pain points and soft spots from life.
After all, in his impression, his saint was the French hero who liberated Orléans from the Hundred Years' War, a Church-recognized saint. Reticent, calm, gentle. Even during wartime, wouldn't be so aggressive—so unbearable. Opening and closing with words comparable to directly cursing someone's parents.
"Irregularly-summoned eighth Servant, even with Command Seal support, your magical energy isn't infinite, right? Just some summons—are you imitating the real Caster's tactics?"
"Ridiculous, truly ridiculous. You want me to acknowledge you're the real Caster?"
"But your imitation is so clumsy and inferior. Just her noble character and beautifully versatile thread magic that flows and changes—you'd need a hundred years to learn, you violator!"
The swordwomen coldly snorted while charging through the monster ocean. Her armor also stained with bloody sticky smell. Treating this kind of violating Heroic Spirit Servant with even less heroic bearing than that rude Golden King, she never gave good looks. Should curse then curse. Really think she was easygoing and good-tempered!
She was Britain's Knight King, not some pure saint who'd just take being insulted! She was a naive king, not an idiot king!
She could give respect to Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, Illyasviel, even the Conqueror King Iskandar. Because others were also heroic warriors—cultured and polite.
But for creatures like Gilles de Rais, inhuman without even sparing children—if she could speak nicely with him, she'd want to slap herself. Courtesy and politeness, like respect, were relative. When others were already so unprincipled, what respect—using words to poke pain points and mess with enemy mentality was perfectly normal.
"I'm Caster! I'm Caster! I'm not imitating that damned cowardly impostor! Saint, please don't be deceived anymore!"
The black sorcerer, somewhat maddened by insults, looked like his eyes would pop from their sockets.
He was the Saint's follower, the magus who should be recognized by the Saint.
"Hmph! Then besides this summoning magic, what else can you do? Show whatever abilities you have. From start to finish, you only had these monsters for offense. Could it be as Caster, you only know this single monotonous summoning magic?"
"I..."
"Can't means can't. Stop pretending to be Caster. No matter how much you imitate, your magical attainments won't lie."
"AHHHHH!"
The forest monsters fell into frenzied chaos. Both offense and madness rose more than one level from before!
The swordwomen's eyes sharpened, stepping forward swinging her Invisible Sword slaying monsters. She just wanted to use words stimulating the black sorcerer to use other magic attacks. Because possessing Magic Resistance skills, energy-type attacks were what she feared least.
But now it seemed her aggression was still too low. Didn't make the black sorcerer use full power launching magic offensives. Instead stimulated him to intensify the surging monster ocean speed, using damned physical attacks for decisive battle.
Monster numbers increased. Her magical energy decreased. She even somewhat doubted whether she was the only problem in this Holy Grail War.
Why didn't the Golden King lack magical energy? Illyasviel also didn't lack magical energy. The black sorcerer before her similarly didn't lack magical energy. Just her alone—magical energy consumption speed like death.
"Though you're already mentally confused, how nostalgic. Everything seems the same as before, Jeanne."
"Your sublime fighting spirit, most holy soul—undoubtedly ironclad proof you're Saint Jeanne."
Slain monsters already exceeded a hundred, yet the surging ocean showed no signs of calming.
Several tentacles crawled from monster corpses, climbing the blood-soaked swordwomen's ankles, grabbing her arm gripping the Invisible Sword. From all directions, hundreds of tentacles attacked without blind spots, like rising tsunamis attempting to devour her.
"Yet why, why won't you awaken! Do you still believe in divine protection even now? Do you think even in this predicament, miracles will appear to save you? Too pitiful. Have you forgotten the Battle of Compiègne? You suffered such humiliation yet willingly remain God's puppet!"
Damn it!
Can only use magical energy release to clear again!
Suffocating sensation came from her neck. Even her armor was covered by over a dozen tentacles. The swordwomen felt somewhat annoyed. Hand injury plus magical supply limitations made her quite powerless against this human wave tactic. After all, magical energy release consumption was too terrifying. If only the black sorcerer had arrived when Illyasviel provided magical energy last night—she'd definitely make him die without burial in minutes.
"Admit it, my Saint Jeanne! Only I can treat your sanity! Only I'm worthy of your recognition as Caster! Only I can save your everything!"
The black sorcerer spread his arms laughing madly, feeling victory was assured.
His monsters were endless. Because this was his Noble Phantasm—A+ rank Noble Phantasm. The magic tome left by his life ally Prelati.
Honestly speaking, he truly wasn't very proficient in magic. But as long as this magic book was in hand, he could ignore his own magical energy launching Grand Ritual-level magic. Because this book itself was equivalent to a magical energy core. Similar to the three magical energy furnaces that Clock Tower Lord brought—self-storing magical energy generation devices.
"That impostor Caster doesn't deserve your heart. She's just a coward, trash without even courage to face me. My Saint Jeanne, don't let her deceive your heart anymore. Believe me, believe Gilles de Rais, believe your true follower..."
RIP!
However, before the black sorcerer's words finished, a throat-slitting sound rang out. Unstoppable blood spurted from his neck!
"Discussing and insulting others behind their backs is very impolite behavior, face-blind magus big brother."
But she wasn't some petty idiot. She'd be happy to help treat him.
What?
Thing?
Feeling severe pain, the black sorcerer's vision suddenly went black. A cold, white small hand flashed before his eyes covering them. Before he could react to the sudden neck pain, the next moment...
An even more heart-wrenching surge violently came...
"AHHHHHHH! My Saint, my eyes! My eyes!"
His vision completely fell into darkness.
Because his two eyes were forcibly... gouged out by that cold, docile small hand!
Pff—Blood spurted from his mouth!
"Ahhh! Bastard, bastard, bastard, bastard, bastard! You bastard who interrupted my rendezvous with Saint Jeanne d'Arc!"
The agonizing screams echoed through the Mirror Forest, but compared to the pain of the dozens of children previously murdered, this was merely a drop in the bucket.
The Black Magician, his throat slashed by a blade and both eyes destroyed, finally realized that a little girl had climbed onto his body. Blood tears flowed from his hollow eye sockets as he screamed madly in pain.
But he hadn't lost his reason. His combat experience from life made him quickly extend his demonic claws to try and grab the arm of the little girl climbing on him. His opponent was skilled in agile quick attacks rather than one-hit kills, and the surrounding monsters were already closing in. If he could just catch her, he could surround and kill her. But would Miss Illya give him such an opportunity? Obviously not.
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
Three consecutive black blades thrust out, stabbing into the Black Magician's neck, chest, and abdomen respectively, piercing completely through his internal organs and flesh!
Even when the Black Magician was in perfect condition, he couldn't have dodged those attacks that left almost no afterimage visible, let alone now that he'd lost his sight.
At the same time, the aberrant monsters' attacks also arrived. In excruciating pain, the Black Magician didn't hesitate to order the monsters to attack along with his back.
Boom! Dozens of tentacles struck from all directions, but just before their attacks landed—
After delivering three stabs with no time for a fourth, Miss Illya, having also retrieved her humorous surgical knife, gave a powerful forward kick with a bang, her C-rank Strength and Agility allowing her to viciously stomp on the already profusely bleeding Black Magician's back, using the recoil to fly into the air.
"What's the principle here? Three stabs, throat slashed, and he's still not dead? Don't his summons draw magical energy from him?"
In midair under the moonlight, Miss Illya watched the still-surging tide of aberrant monsters below and furrowed her delicate brows slightly. She could understand the Black Magician not dying immediately.
After all, even if a Servant receives a fatal wound, it still takes time before they completely disappear, similar to how an angler might bring home a freshly caught live fish and immediately cut it open to kill it, but the fish will still move even though it's dying... Oh wait, how could an angler actually catch a fish? That's like expecting wife cakes to actually contain wives.
But temporary death throes made sense—so why could the summons still be maintained? Heroic Spirit Servants repairing their own injuries consumes massive amounts of magical energy.
By all rights, the Black Magician with such severe injuries shouldn't be able to maintain this quantity of summons anymore.
"Shapeist Leben (Remnants, I grant you life)."
A bloodied small hand raised.
Several strands of hair pulled free.
Silver threads wove rapidly in the hands of the snow elf under the moonlight, magical incantations chanted softly, the silver threads crisscrossing and depicting complex outlines, interweaving and combining like woven craft items forming complex three-dimensional objects with fierce wings and beaks, and sharp talons—modeled after an eagle, an exquisite silver thread craft. But this wasn't merely a replica model; it was a magical creature given life by Illya.
In an instant, the White Stork Knights soared through the sky, diving down to meet the ocean of monsters waiting for their prey to fall, engaging in violent combat.
"Hmm?"
Several bursts of magical energy exploded against the monster tentacles entangling the swordsman girl!
Those were Teardrop Bullets (Zähre) fired by the White Stork Knights—concentrated long-range magical attacks. The bullets collided with the monsters' tentacles at extreme speed, and blood and flesh rotted like mud under the white light's assault!
"Greetings. It seems you need a bit of help, unlucky Knight King big sister."
The freed swordsman girl heard the voice and looked over, seeing the familiar silver-white hooded figure using the White Stork Knights as an aerial platform, landing on the branch of a tall tree beside her and pulling back the ragged cloth hood as a greeting.
"My luck is actually quite good—after all, when I fell into danger, you arrived, didn't you? Illyasviel."
Upon seeing Miss Illya and those familiar exquisite familiar legions, the swordsman girl relaxed with a smile and casually bantered back.
"How many times can big sister still use Mana Burst? Whether I help or not, the result will be the same, won't it?"
Miss Illya looked down as dozens of White Stork Knights were quickly entangled by the monsters' tentacles, tightened, and finally destroyed with pitiful shrieks.
She grew increasingly puzzled by the Black Magician's condition, then the several White Stork Knights in her hand, after being infused with enough magical energy, flew out again to serve as splitting and spawning barracks.
The Mirror Forest became a battlefield of slaughter, two types of magical creatures made of mana constantly fighting and competing, splitting and reviving as if it were simple, as long as their master existed and the magical energy supplier existed. Unless they were reduced to ash particles that could no longer reform, they were immortal and undying perfect creatures.
But how strange.
How was Gilles de Rais supplying mana? The blade she thrust into his chest undoubtedly pierced his heart, and a Heroic Spirit Servant's heart is their Spirit Origin.
Though not enough to completely destroy his Spirit Origin, it should have been enough to make him lose combat ability and fall into a near-death state similar to that brain-damaged Gilgamesh.
Why could he still maintain the splitting of so many monsters without dropping any loot for her?
"Can you deal with that rule-breaking Servant? Caster."
"Theoretically speaking, I already dealt with him. Even with Command Seals, his injuries shouldn't be recoverable. This is fatal damage to a Servant's Spirit Origin."
"Heh, then it seems this rule-breaker is somewhat special. How about I clear a path for you... ally? If I'm not mistaken, that grimoire in his hand is his Noble Phantasm. Even in his severely wounded, near-death state, he can still summon monsters."
"Well, well, well~ I really can't help you. Remember to treat me to cake afterward."
The sweetest, sweetest cake!
Drawing the last blade from the sheath on her thigh, Miss Illya activated Presence Concealment and a Mist Barrier, and gradually the thin fog throughout the forest began to thicken, carrying toxicity fatal to ordinary people.
Gilles de Rais was doomed. She only needed to leave and wait, and he would die from his excessive injuries. But her main purpose in wanting to personally kill him was to make him drop loot for her. If she left the scene, who knew if she could pick up the dropped equipment? Plus, her current condition was excellent, and teaming up with the swordsman girl, who could barely be called an ally, to kill the Black Magician on the spot was the optimal choice for her.
Of course, she'd also considered ignoring this and running straight to the Einzbern castle to cause havoc, since she didn't really believe in ally contracts and such. But considering that the Einzbern family wasn't easy to provoke either.
Reportedly, their homunculus battle maids possessed strength infinitely close to that of Servants.
Who knew if that castle had any, and Emiya Kiritsugu still had three Command Seals in contract, able to summon back the swordsman girl at any time, so this idea was shelved for now.
"Hahaha! Hahahaha! Jeanne! Jeanne! My Saint Jeanne d'Arc!"
"Is this God's obstruction? Is this the difficulty God sent down to prevent me from helping you restore your confused mind? Good! Good! If this is the trial given by God, I, Gilles de Rais, will stake everything I have to overcome it right here!"
The Black Magician spat mouthfuls of blood, the pain from his pierced eyes and body making him stumble, but he still didn't give up struggling.
Even knowing he was going to die, even knowing he could never again see the Saint's face.
He still resolutely forced himself to stand, supporting himself on the nearby monster tentacles to rise, just as he had stood up countless times after falling while following Saint Jeanne d'Arc in the past, dedicating everything toward his Saint, toward the pride of the French Empire!
"France will never kneel before God, will never bow its head to difficulties or enemies!"
Monster tentacles coiled around his broken body. At this moment, the Black Magician no longer seemed like a madman, but like a devout holy follower infinitely loyal to the French Empire, who under Saint Jeanne d'Arc's leadership fought against hateful invaders and never betrayed the will of resistance!
"Your persistence is respectable, but big brother, the Saint you followed is no longer here. Can't you rest in peace now?" Miss Illya gripped the black cold blade in her backhand, while behind her, the swordsman girl's invisible sword shrouded in wind faintly revealed the form of a holy sword!
The gale that could easily blow ordinary people into the sky was released once more. The atmosphere rotated, compressed, and spiraled as brilliant golden magical energy burst forth violently!
Strike Air—Invisible Air Hammer, that was the technique's name. The erupting magical torrent surged forward like a giant dragon, massive amounts of mana consumed and poured in at this moment. The terrifying magical hurricane pulverized the aberrant monsters in its direct path for ten meters, earth and shattered wood swept up with flesh and blood, forcibly opening a safe path to the Black Magician through this seemingly endless ocean!
The swordsman girl's mana had been consumed by more than half. Normally she wouldn't fight so aggressively, but her ally had arrived, she could trust her back to them, so there was no need to worry so much—she would simply give it her all alongside her ally in an upright battle!
"You know very well that this Knight King big sister is not the Saint you seek. You merely see in her the shadow of the glory you pursued in life."
"Hehehe, hahahaha... Yes! Yes! But as long as that spirit of the Saint, that will of France still exists, then she is the reincarnation of Saint Jeanne d'Arc, she is the Saint worth following, she is the Saint's soul after being deceived by God!"
Come!
God!
Come!
All of you, come!
The will of France shall never perish in this world!
"At this moment, we shall once again raise high the liberating banner of salvation!"
"Commanded by me, led by me, we who have been mercilessly abandoned by God—our voices of resentment and defiance shall reach the ears of God! O Lord in heaven, I shall praise thy name with words of reproach!"
"O God seated in arrogance, O God coldly silent, O God high above who knows not human suffering—we shall pull you down from your throne! Long live the French Empire! Long live Saint Jeanne d'Arc!"
Rip, rip, rip! The White Stork Knights fought bloodily as the Ripper of the Misty Night gripped blades in reverse and charged through like a phantom. Over ten obstructing monsters were slain in mere seconds. By all rights, Miss Illya should have been very close to the Black Magician.
The distance of the voice was clearly within ten meters, but Miss Illya, having fought her way here, couldn't find anything. It was as if the Black Magician had already fled and no longer existed, leaving only this ocean from another world that continuously regenerated and split.
No! He wasn't gone! He was here! He was definitely in this Mirror Forest!
So where had he gone? Miss Illya noticed the foul-smelling mud beneath her feet could even squirm eerily, and understood where the Black Magician had gone.
He had been devoured by his own summons. Knowing death was inevitable, he became nourishment for the monsters, fusing with them.
What kind of Noble Phantasm was this that could sustain life even after fatal injury? And had that guy really gone mad?
"A mere fatal wound—I who fought alongside Saint Jeanne d'Arc through most of my life, when have I ever feared ambush, when have I ever feared death? Impostor, I don't know why you're taking my place in this class, nor why I carelessly failed to notice your exquisite disguise... but as I said from the beginning, you are the challenger to the Marshal of France!"
At this distance, only Miss Illya could hear his voice.
The monsters ravaged and buried the Black Magician, leaving only his head and arms exposed. He was unfolding, his life force draining, his life approaching its end.
But so what? What of it? Just like this, he had seen Saint Jeanne d'Arc's hatred of evil, seen that sacred and sublime radiance!
He had also succeeded in challenging that Ripper of the Misty Night, competing over who truly had the qualifications to follow Saint Jeanne d'Arc as Caster. His wishes had all been realized and fulfilled. Mere death—paying such a shallow price, what could he possibly be dissatisfied with?
"I'm not some challenger. I just want to survive, want to send you off the stage, that's all."
Grabbing dozens of silver strands of hair, the exquisite threads surged as nearly a hundred sharp longswords wrapped in magical energy burst forth around her!
They charged and thrust like a barrage-type Noble Phantasm, piercing through the demon creatures, once again clearing for Miss Illya the surrounding engulfing ocean, also revealing the Black Magician who had been devoured and buried by monsters, his bloated monstrous form now five or six meters tall!
"As it should be, as it must be—a follower of Saint Jeanne d'Arc should be this resolute!"
"Whether seeking survival or nobility, fighting alongside Saint Jeanne d'Arc with such fervor, resisting unjust fate—this makes one qualified!"
The remaining dozen or so thread-swords shot forth in rapid volleys. The Black Magician's empty eye sockets shed blood-red tears. Even though his eyes could no longer see, he sensed malice from this killer, sensed resistance against dissatisfaction with fate. If only he could have met them earlier, perhaps he and they would have had much to discuss, because that peculiar aura was truly too similar—like a fallen Saint from another world!
But now, they had only one path to choose: to fight to the bitter end. Who was the real Caster and who was the fake no longer mattered at this moment.
Only the victor, only the victor who killed the other, had the qualifications to become a follower by Saint Jeanne d'Arc's side.
"Caster, watch out—underground!"
Her Instinct skill activated. Sensing danger, the swordsman girl shouted while entangled with the monster ocean.
And naturally, Miss Illya's movements weren't slow either—she'd detected the disturbance beneath her feet early on.
BOOM! A massive octopus-like mouth filled with disgusting teeth suddenly erupted from underground, swallowing her surroundings and the White Stork Knights, like a terrifying mysterious creature hunting in the deep sea. The entire earth shook and trembled, even the monster tentacle corpses were devoured and ground up!
"Squelch!"
At the same time, the bursting silver-white magical energy longsword also slayed dozens of monster tentacles wrapping the Black Magician.
His hidden grimoire and body, already connected to the monsters, were briefly exposed.
That was Prelati's Spellbook, a powerful Anti-Army Noble Phantasm of A+ rank—an evil magical tome wrapped in human skin.
Taking advantage of her high Agility to dodge the underground assault, Miss Illya once again stepped on a freely soaring White Stork Knight to fly through the air. Seizing this brief opportunity, she imbued magical energy into her hand and hurled her last dagger violently forth, transforming it into a black meteor heading straight for the Black Magician's exposed Prelati's Spellbook!
"Tss!"
"It's useless! O one who resists unjust fate, your murderous dagger couldn't even instantly sever my neck—how could it possibly damage or destroy my magical tome?"
The meteor dagger embedded itself in the grimoire's cover, unable to penetrate further. The Black Magician's hand gripping the grimoire had already been pierced by the dagger, but he still laughed madly!
His combat experience had shown him that while his opponent excelled in Agility and magic, the weapons they wielded dragged their strength down by at least a full tier!
Those daggers were at most D-rank Noble Phantasms, possibly even weaker than average D-rank Noble Phantasms.
How could such blunted blades possibly destroy his grimoire and stop him from continuing to summon creatures from another world with his Noble Phantasm? While Noble Phantasms aren't so extreme that a one or two rank difference means total defeat, using a D-rank Noble Phantasm to destroy an A+ Noble Phantasm was pure fantasy!
However...
The Black Magician's words had barely fallen.
A cheerful, hearty laugh suddenly rang out from the forest.
"Caster, I'll help you!"
The next instant, a yellow rose-colored light streaked past Miss Illya's side!