"...Royal Guard, protect the Master."
Inside the grand castle hall, violet-red mana surged outward. In the next instant, countless mana particles rapidly condensed, solidified, and expanded. Soon, as the blinding radiance gradually faded, a flash of gold appeared before everyone's eyes.
Thud! Thud!
"For Selene—!"
The thunderous impact of enormous power-axe shafts striking the marble floor, paired with deafening battle cries, startled the gathered Masters.
"So tall..." murmured Fiore, seated in her wheelchair. Even though these towering golden-armored giants were all kneeling on one knee, she still had to tilt her head almost ninety degrees just to see the blood-red crests atop their helmets.
Each of the golden-armored giants stood at least three meters tall, clad in radiant golden power armor with crimson cloaks draped across their shoulders. They held massive single-edged power axes, with power swords and Royal Guard-issue explosive rifles hanging from their belts.
Their ornate armor was almost too exquisite for war—chestplates, pauldrons, helmets, and greaves were all engraved with intricate golden eagle reliefs. The craftsmanship was so refined one could easily mistake them for works of art meant for museum display rather than battle.
"Rise."
"By Your Majesty's command!" The leading golden giant's metallic, gravelly voice reverberated through the hall as the summoned squad of Royal Guards—Selene's personal soldiers—rose to their feet in perfect unison.
How did the Yggdmillennia magi recognize who the leader was? Simple—he was the largest. While the others were just over three meters tall, this one stood nearly three and a half.
"Divine Majesty, who are they?" Darnic asked, barely suppressing the joy welling up in his heart as his eyes took in the sight of the gleaming warriors.
"The Royal Guard of the Grand Palace—the personal soldiers of my Empire, and one of the sharpest blades at my command."
It was not an exaggeration. The Royal Guard was indeed Selene's strongest humanoid legion. There were larger forces, but none stronger in unity and discipline; those surpassing them in power existed only as individual combatants incapable of forming an army.
Unlike the mass-produced Honkai-enhanced surgery of the ordinary Astartes warriors, each Royal Guard was personally hand-selected by Selene from among the champions of the entire Imperial Army—and personally refined and strengthened by Her own hands.
Every single one of them was unique, wielding the Empire's finest equipment. Their power armor and weapons were crafted from special alloys forged of Honkai Energy and orichalcum. Compared to them, even elite Astartes warriors were as plastic compared to gold.
After answering Darnic's inquiry, Selene continued nonchalantly, "Assign a squad. I require them to safeguard the Master."
Though these Royal Guards were not their true selves but mana-constructed projections—summoned manifestations through Selene's data-type Heroic Spirit form and her Noble Phantasm—their power was no less than that of most Heroic Spirits in the Throne of Heroes.
"By Your Majesty's decree, we shall not fail!"
There was no need to ask who the Master was. Being directly linked to Selene, the Guards could instantly identify the human connected to her mana network.
Standing silently behind her protector, Celenike said nothing. Whether it was for surveillance or protection, she accepted it willingly. Having such powerful guardians ensured her survival—and if that meant victory through simply staying alive, she was perfectly content.
For Darnic, Selene's protective instincts toward her Master were most welcome. Bowing respectfully, he signaled that he had an announcement to make. Upon receiving Selene's nod of approval, he stepped forward.
Standing one step below Selene's platform, Darnic raised his short ceremonial wand, spreading his arms wide as his voice rang out proudly through the grand hall.
"Everyone!"
"From this moment forth, the Yggdmillennia shall march upon the path of no return! When we crush the 'Red' faction—when this Great Holy Grail War ends—those who fight to the very end as Masters shall receive eternal glory!"
He lifted his wand higher, voice brimming with fervor. "And why, you ask? Because we now possess the all-powerful wish-granting device—the Greater Grail! That miracle known as the Greater Grail now rests within our hands!"
The Greater Grail was in their grasp—or rather, more accurately, under their custodianship. After all, when the 'Black' and 'Red' factions fought to the death and filled the Greater Grail with their Saint Graphs, it would be some opportunistic arbitrator and a homunculus who would reap the final reward.
Watching Darnic speak confidently before the crowd, Selene couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. So, you were the victim after all. Sixty years of preparation, sixty years of patience—only to have the fruit of your labor stolen by someone else.
Tch... how pitiful, absurd, and tragic.
Of course, Darnic's revelation was a powerful motivator for everyone present. Whether Master or Servant, all were undoubtedly stirred. While Servants might be indifferent to worldly desires, every chosen Master bore a wish strong enough to have drawn the Holy Grail's attention.
At those words, many among them—even several Servants—couldn't suppress the flicker of joy in their eyes.
The Greater Grail was already in their possession. They held the advantage in time, place, and unity. How could they possibly lose?
The temptation of the Greater Grail was irresistible. Darnic's declaration not only bolstered the Black Faction's confidence but also strengthened their internal cohesion—a masterstroke serving two purposes at once.
And when he spoke of "those who fight to the very end as Masters," Selene could easily imagine the truth behind it. If not for the constant chaos and unexpected incidents caused by their summoned Servants, Darnic likely had several contingency plans of his own.
Having participated in the Second World War, the Third Holy Grail War in Fuyuki, and lived for nearly a century while scheming against the Fuyuki families, Darnic was no mere magician—he was a master of intrigue.
Selene had no doubt that he had laid numerous safeguards against even his so-called allies. After all, there could only be one Greater Grail, and it could only grant one wish.
...
When Darnic's speech concluded, Selene's Master—Celenike—politely excused herself, escorted by a squad of Royal Guards. The heavy, rhythmic footsteps of their retreat echoed down the marble corridor.
Once their presence faded, the remaining Masters exchanged glances. The Archer of Black, Chiron, approached Fiore's wheelchair and, ever the gentleman, grasped the handles to wheel her toward the exit.
Seeing this, Caules and Gordes followed suit, leaving the hall with their respective Servants.
As for the Caster of Black, Avicebron had already departed long ago, his so-called "apprentice"—his Master Roche—in tow.
In mere breaths, the hall fell silent, leaving only three figures within—Darnic, Vlad, and Selene... along with the Royal Guards, whose towering forms still occupied half the space.
"Darnic, Vlad—come with me."
With a tap of her finger, the air shimmered. Ripples spread through the fabric of space as a violet-hued Spatial Transfer Gate opened before them. Without hesitation, Selene stepped through first, followed closely by Vlad, while Darnic followed reverently, his every gesture marked by humility and respect.
His demeanor was that of a servant before a sovereign—deferential to the utmost degree.
The next instant, as they stepped through the portal, both men felt a sudden twist in time and space. Reality distorted before them, and their surroundings opened into a breathtaking vista.
A palace.
They stood within a courtyard elevated hundreds of meters above the ground. Statues of red-armored warriors adorned the garden around them. From the suspended balustrade, they could see a vast palace complex stretching endlessly into the horizon below, while above them loomed towering citadel walls that seemed to blot out the sky.
Though the outside world was wrapped in night, here the sun shone bright and warm.
"This place... these palaces—surely no human hands could have built them... A bounded field where a Reality Marble erodes the physical world..." Darnic muttered, his experienced eyes swiftly assessing their surroundings.
"This is... a Reality Marble."
"Indeed," Selene replied softly. "This is my Reality Marble—my palace."
Turning back, Darnic and Vlad beheld Selene seated upon a dais at the garden's center. Around her, seven or eight handmaidens were already preparing a banquet.
"Divine Majesty!" Darnic greeted respectfully.
Selene's gaze fell upon the richly dressed magus standing deferentially behind Prince Vlad. Though Darnic's posture was low and humble, she knew well that for magi of the Type-Moon world, such acts of submission were merely tools toward achieving their ends.
Whether he hid ulterior motives or not was of no concern to her. Nor did she care what schemes filled his mind. Selene had not brought them here to pry into his intentions.
This was merely a diplomatic courtesy—a gesture of goodwill between ruler and subject.
Though they were nominally allies, as long as he gave her due respect and didn't openly turn hostile, Selene couldn't care less about whatever plots or filth Darnic might be hiding.
"Sit. There is some information... I deem it appropriate to share with you. Observe." As she spoke, Selene summoned the Complete Book of the World · Rongo Rongo and placed it upon the low table before her.
In the original chronicle, it always felt as though only Vlad III and Darnic were the truly reliable ones among the Black Faction. Astolfo and Frankenstein were barely worth mentioning. Their strongest Servant, Saber Siegfried, had abandoned his post to give his heart—literally—to a homunculus. Chiron? He and Astolfo caused chaos together, nearly dooming their own ally, Caster Avicebron, whose Noble Phantasm core was lost thanks to their antics.
In the end, it was only the Prince who fought with true resolve.
Selene sighed softly—a brief half-second of silent pity—before she continued.
"Here lies all intelligence concerning the 'Red' faction. Their Masters and Servants have all been confirmed... Saber of Red, the rebellious knight of Britain—Mordred. Lancer of Red, Karna, the son of the sun god Surya from the Indian epic Mahabharata. Archer of Red..."
...
Meanwhile, elsewhere—
Trifas, the church graveyard.
"—So, you're my Master, huh?!" From the center of the summoning circle, a small knight clad head-to-toe in heavy armor asked sharply.
Opposite her stood a burly man with shoulder-length light brown hair, a black jacket, and dark sunglasses. His muscular build and the setting made him look more like a grave robber than a magus.
He extended a large hand forward. "I'm Kairi Sisigou, your Master. Pleased to meet you."
The short knight stared for a moment, then gave a brisk nod, her armored head tilting slightly in acknowledgment.
...
Inside the nearby chapel—
"What is it, Master?" asked a voice.
"Our final Servant has been summoned..."
"I see... then, it's about to begin, isn't it?"
"Yes. The war begins now."
...
Japan, Tokyo, Shinjuku.
"Mama, I've finished eating..."
A little girl stood there, four sheathed daggers strapped around her waist, each placed perfectly within her reach. Two of them were already drawn.
Her unkempt silver hair hung messily over her head, and her small, scarred face—still carrying traces of baby fat—held eyes far too cold and deranged for her age. Those jade-green irises shimmered with madness.
Yet at this moment, her eyes shone only with affection as she buried herself in the arms of a mature woman, her lips still stained with blood.
The woman—clad in a green dress and black knee-high boots, with long brown hair and a voluptuous figure—was meant to be a sacrificial catalyst for summoning a Servant by Hyouma Sagara. Yet through a strange twist of fate, she herself became the summoned Servant's Master.
"Mama? You called me Mama... What's your name? Do you really want to be my daughter?" the woman asked in disbelief.
"Yes, Mama. My name is Jack," the little girl replied sweetly.
Hearing that soft, childish voice, gazing into that innocent face, Reika Rikudou felt her long-dead heart begin to beat again. Her maternal instincts awakened, and for the first time in years, she felt a reason to live.
She held little Jack tightly, wiping the blood from her mouth without hesitation. Meanwhile, the Greater Grail's information flowed into her mind: "Romania... the Greater Grail, a wish-granting device... No matter what it takes, even if I must die—I'll win it. For Jack."
...
Buzz...
"All relevant intelligence has been shared. You may go now," Selene said, bringing Darnic and Vlad with her to the top floor of the Fortress of Millennia. She gazed down at the small town below, her expression unreadable.
"Then, Divine Majesty, we take our leave."
"Mm."
Now, all seven Servants of the Black Faction and all seven of the Red had assembled. Fourteen Heroic Spirits stood ready for battle. To Selene and these legendary beings, it might not seem much—but for the magi of this era, this Great Holy Grail War was the grandest conflict of its kind.
"Red side—Karna, Achilles, Semiramis..."
"Ruler, the arbitrator—Jeanne d'Arc. Fair and impartial, or a biased whistleblower? We shall see... Oh, and that homunculus fit to serve as a core..."