Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald.
Lancer's Master.
One of the twelve highest-ranking members (well, "not quite") of the Clock Tower and the ruling authority of the Department of Mineralogy.
As head of the Archibald family and a renowned magus once hailed as a prodigy, Kayneth possessed considerable wealth. He also regarded the Holy Grail War as a matter of great importance—after all, it had been quite some time since the ritual was first conceived.
Even for someone in his position, victory in the Holy Grail War would stand as a crowning achievement.
However, when you boil it down, the event is merely a ritual created by three magician families in a small, remote island nation.
Did anyone really believe the Holy Grail was some irreplaceable, one-of-a-kind artifact?
With the great monarch of the Mineralogy Department himself taking action, the Grail should have been easy to claim.
That was Kayneth's thought before arriving in Fuyuki City.
And now—
The Holy Grail War is far too dangerous. I want to go back to the Clock Tower!
Of course, that was only a joke.
The greater the danger, the more credible the proof of one's accomplishment.
On the very first night, Kayneth had witnessed Arthur's bizarre methods and, upon returning, learned the true names of four other Servants—all legends who had left deep imprints on history. They were mysteries any magus would be fascinated to explore.
Even setting aside his own Servant… no, especially considering Lancer, who had been instantly defeated by King Arthur, the treasures in Lancer's possession still held great value for magical research.
The two spears bore runes of Holy Tree, Binding, Gift, Richness, Victory, Hail, and Success.
Now, of course, there were two fewer.
Even as mere projections of mythic weapons, they still possessed notable power.
If not for the Grail War, Kayneth might have sought another way to preserve the rune rubbings. Even without immediate research use, they could serve as family heirlooms or valuable trade items.
As for Lancer?
What else was this man good for besides fighting?
Kayneth shot his Servant a look of open disdain.
Feeling his Master's eyes on him, Diarmuid immediately dropped to one knee. "I'm sorry, my lord. I lost the first battle. My carelessness is to blame."
"Hmph! As though you could have beaten Caster even if you hadn't been careless."
"Sorry," Diarmuid replied, his voice heavy with shame.
Had he not unleashed the Red Rose of Exorcism in time to buy a fleeting instant—and had his Master not used a precious Command Seal to withdraw him—he might have become the first Servant eliminated from the war.
It was a bitter thought.
"Kayneth, don't blame Lancer," came a suddenly resentful voice from across the room. "It's your fault for misjudging the situation. If you had thought through your tactics more carefully, he wouldn't have lost a Noble Phantasm."
It was his fiancée, Sola.
Kayneth grimaced. In hindsight, perhaps his tactics had been a bit reckless. But he hadn't said a single cruel word to Lancer, and his quick decisions had ensured they both escaped unscathed. Why was he the one being scolded?
He gave Sola a wounded look.
It was ignored entirely.
Her sharp gaze rested only on Diarmuid. Even while berating Kayneth, she never spared her fiancé a glance.
Feeling the sting of humiliation, Kayneth stared at the mole beneath Diarmuid's eye for a long, tense moment before grinding out a single word:
"Forget it."
I can endure this.
A mere Servant would vanish in time. Once this Holy Grail War ended, Sola would be his.
He believed it so firmly that he was able to deceive himself.
Even if the goddess would rather fawn over other men than spare him a glance, he would still worship her unwaveringly. One day, surely, she would notice him.
Perhaps this was the very definition of a simp.
Suddenly, Kayneth's expression hardened.
Diarmuid summoned a spear instantly, stepping in front of his Master with alert focus.
Sola—unprotected—gazed at the Servant with shining eyes, her heart swelling.
Ah… moments ago, he was being treated so coldly by that loser, yet now he puts aside the past to guard his Master first. Such loyalty! I love you~.
…Right. Enough about the tangled mess between these three.
What Kayneth had sensed just moments before was the activation of a magical barrier on their floor.
Enemy.
There was no doubt—at this stage, only an enemy would dare approach.
Triggered by an ordinary person? Impossible.
Never underestimate the resources of the Mineral Monarch.
Especially when traveling with his fiancée, Kayneth had spared no expense for security.
At first, he'd rented out an entire floor of the hotel. After the disastrous first night and realizing the war's true danger, he had gone further—evacuating the two floors above and below as well.
Magical apparatus and ceremonial wards now filled the place.
Though invisible to the casual eye, three entire floors of the Fuyuki Hotel had been transformed into Kayneth's private fortress.
A magus attack?
Even if a Servant came in person, they would not walk away unscathed.
Yet now, the intruder had bypassed the lower-floor traps entirely, triggering no alarms until they reached the very room Kayneth occupied.
"Lancer, how many enemies?"
"I'm sorry, my lord. The aura is faint—I can't judge their number."
"Tch! Useless." Kayneth clicked his tongue, sweat already beading on his clenched palms.
The door opened.
From the outside.
In broad daylight.
The sheer audacity froze Kayneth for a moment—before the icy chill of death seemed to press against his neck.
"Don't be nervous. I'm not here to fight."
"Caster?!"
Kayneth and Lancer both recoiled, retreating to positions where they could flee if necessary.
Arthur, unfazed by their reaction—after all, he had nearly killed Lancer earlier—stepped forward.
"I advise you to put down your guard," Matou Zouken said with mild irritation as he entered alongside Arthur. "Otherwise, His Majesty will think even less of you. This is your only path to survival. I hope you value it."
To be honest, Zouken had been nervous about Arthur joining the fray on the first night.
If anything had happened to His Majesty, what would have become of him?
But the sheer combat ability Arthur displayed soon turned unease into astonishment.
When Arthur himself claimed that what they had seen was only a fraction of his power, that astonishment had grown into genuine expectation.
As for the defeated Lancer team—
Ha. Did they think vigilance would save them?
"If His Majesty wished you dead, Lancer, you'd have fallen at the docks already. Did that thought never occur to you? Or do you think that's all His Majesty can do? Naïve little brats—you should be grateful to have passed His Majesty's test, not cowering in pointless suspicion."
As a loyal underling, the Old Worm spoke every word Arthur could have said himself.
Naturally, this earned him nothing but a faint look of disdain from Arthur.
-End Chapter-
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