In comparison, wouldn't it be easier to deal with Zouken Matou, lying on the ground and near death, or Tōsaka Tokiomi, who had fainted and was powerless to resist?
No matter how you think about it, it shouldn't be me!
But why?
Waver looked pitifully at Iskandar, tears welling in the corners of his eyes.
Rider, save me! This Assassin is really inhuman!
"Even if you say so, boy, give up. I'm not good at rescue operations." Iskandar said bluntly, "You know, my idol is actually the great hero who shone brightly on the battlefield of Troy—Achilles."
"Wait! What do you mean, man?" Waver suddenly grew alert, feeling that something was wrong.
"Strong, brave, straightforward, self-centered, and extremely loyal." Iskandar grinned, raising his thumb with an expression of almost comical honesty.
"???"
When Waver finally understood what was being said, his legs went weak, and he nearly collapsed.
He understood now—at least a little.
Iskandar's subtext was clear: when he died, Iskandar would avenge him, just as Achilles had slain Hector.
You should try to save me!
"Rider, King of Conquerors. I demand that you remove your Noble Phantasm immediately and put an end to your battle with Caster and Berserker, otherwise—" Assassin finally spoke, the threat in his tone unmistakable.
There's something to talk about!
Waver, who had been holding his breath in dread, finally exhaled a shaky sigh of relief. Though he was far from safe, at least there was now a glimmer of hope.
"To stop the fight? You captured my Master just for that… You should know any threat will only anger me, and compromise is the last thing you'll ever get, rat!" Anger flickered across Iskandar's face, hot and fierce.
But Assassin remained calm. "The King of Conquerors does not yield to threats. But he does make choices to achieve his goals. Will he abandon the Holy Grail, lose his Master, and retire here? Or will he avenge me after I kill him?"
The answer had been clear from the start.
On the surface, Iskandar appeared upright and heroic, like a blazing flame. But in truth, could someone who had become a king really be so foolish, so utterly incapable of adapting?
…Well, except Saber.
After a brief silence, the anger on Iskandar's face suddenly vanished. He burst out laughing. "Oh, I've been tricked. I lose, I lose! I'm really no good at disguises—I can't fool anyone. Honestly, I never thought the King of Heroes would just sit there and let my Master be taken."
No, no, no. To be honest, your acting was amazing.
Didn't you see your Master was scared half to death just now?
"Idiot. Fighting outside the battlefield is still fighting. Blame only your own carelessness for not noticing. As a king watching from the audience, I had no reason to intervene in your struggle." Gilgamesh's disdainful snort cut through the air.
Iskandar had no complaints.
That much was true.
The desert world of yellow sand began to collapse, and in the blink of an eye, they were back in the hotel lobby.
"It's about time you let that brat go. Immature as he is, he's still my Master. If you keep a blade to his throat, I'll truly be angry," Iskandar said seriously.
So he still had some conscience. At least as a Servant, he remembered his Master. Compared to the other kings, he was far more reliable.
Seeing this, Tōsaka Tokiomi—who had just regained consciousness—and Zouken, who had finally recovered a shred of strength, glanced first at Gilgamesh and Arthur, then at each other. For a moment, both men felt the urge to embrace and weep.
They were both kings—so why was there such a gulf between them?
If only my king remembered his Master, I'd die with a smile.
The two old schemers (fog) clutched their chests, hearts aching with envy.
Assassin released Waver, letting the boy stumble out of range, his steps shaky as if he might topple at any moment.
"You had the chance to kill him, and yet you didn't. Surprisingly sincere of you." Iskandar gave Assassin a strange look.
Of course, this earned him a furious outburst from Waver.
Do you want me dead so badly?!
But Waver's reproach stirred no guilt in Iskandar. The King of Conquerors' "praise" was wasted.
Assassin turned his gaze to Arthur, hesitated, then spoke.
"Now, I'm certain you're someone I can reason with. The world teeters on the brink of destruction. If it were you, you'd choose correctly. The Holy Grail War must not continue—"
Before he could finish, a crimson devil sword pierced through Assassin's chest, twisting savagely as though intent on shattering his very soul.
Impossible—!
Assassin couldn't even speak. Slowly, he turned to glimpse the feral expression behind him.
Berserker.
But why—?
"How could he evade your perception? A Berserker, able to ambush an Assassin—don't you think that's ironic, bastard?" Lucius's face was twisted with hatred. "As Roman Emperor, I am naturally a perfect genius. Of course he's mastered every technique worth knowing."
[Emperor's Privilege] at EX rank was Lucius's inevitable skill. Any art, tactic, or stratagem could be mastered at will.
And despicable methods?
What better answer to third-rate trash?
"You think you can walk away after interrupting my duel with Artorius? The Holy Grail War must not continue? The world destroyed? Empty nonsense! Even if the world ends, what has it to do with me? You dare to interfere with my battle, dare to address my Red Dragon without leave? You're just a rat crawling in the dark—you deserve only death!"
Lightning crackled as Lucius wrenched his sword upward with brutal force.
Assassin had no chance to scream. His body burst into motes of spirit particles and was gone.
Thus fell the first true casualty of this Holy Grail War.
Even then, Lucius's mood soured further.
What a farce.
His Master was worthless, forcing him to scavenge his own mana to survive. Just moments ago, inside Iskandar's Reality Marble, he had absorbed enough energy to stand on equal footing with Arthur. Yet that hard-won balance had been ruined by Assassin's intrusion.
Would such a chance ever come again?
And worse—Lucius felt a strange familiarity when he looked at that Assassin, though the memory eluded him. The irritation gnawed at him.
For now, however, drained of mana, he would not risk another fight.
"Artorius, wait for me. Make sure you're in perfect condition for our next battle—or I'll kill the brat at your side and the woman behind you!" Lucius growled, before storming out of the hall in disgust.
The banquet was over.
After Lucius left, both Iskandar and Gilgamesh lost interest and departed as well.
"Only three Command Seals remain to the King of Conquerors," Arthur sighed, shaking his head.
The number of enemies had decreased, but the thrill of battle had diminished with it.
-End Chapter-
Visit the Patreon!!
Read 30 chapters ahead, more on the way!
[email protected]/TrashProspector