"Haa..."
Closing his eyes, Amakusa Shirou Tokisada remained silent for a moment. On his arm, the three crimson Command Spells—symbols of his contract with Caster of Red, William Shakespeare—faded away. Slowly, he exhaled.
"I can sense it. Caster—Shakespeare—has indeed disappeared."
Although the Greater Grail had reclaimed his Ruler authority after the Third Holy Grail War in Fuyuki City—nullifying his inherent skill, God's Resolution—Amakusa Shirou Tokisada still retained part of his Servant abilities. In addition to True Name Discernment, he could still perceive the disappearance of Servants and the degree of the Greater Grail's accumulation.
Under the guarantee of the triple Command Spell, Amakusa had considered every possible outcome, arranging Shakespeare's end with perfect precision.
As long as the contract between Shakespeare and his Master remained, his death was inevitable.
Cutting off his mana supply deprived him of the foundation needed to maintain his limits; severing their Master-Servant bond nullified his inherent skill, Self-Preservation; and the suicide order was the final, absolute strike.
"It seems Rider of Black only captured him and restricted his movements. If they had forcibly altered his Servant contract, things might've been troublesome..."
"But then again—how could that possibly happen..." Amakusa let out a muted laugh, shaking his head in self-mockery.
"It's only natural. Given Caster's personality and that mouth of his, what god—those proud, lofty beings—would ever find him tolerable? Except perhaps one fond of the arts."
He and Semiramis had both suffered more than enough from Shakespeare's antics.
Judging by the sheer scale of destruction Rider of Black had caused, her divine aspect clearly governed destruction and war. How could such a godly being endure that eccentric literary nuisance?
If not for Caster Shakespeare's inherent skill Self-Preservation, he likely would've been beaten to death long ago.
"At this point, this really is the final resort."
Archer of Red—Atalanta—murmured, "Caster's gone... meaning just two more Servants need to fall before the Greater Grail activates..."
"Then... including me, Father, only one Servant remains. I'll leave everything to you."
Thud!
Striking her Spiritual Core with her fist, Atalanta coughed up blood as cracks spread across her fading form. A soft blue glow began to envelop her, slowly scattering into light.
Even before Amakusa could name the next to be sacrificed, Atalanta already knew—it was herself.
Thus, she accepted Amakusa's decision without protest, her expression serene.
"Mm." He nodded gently, the warmth in his smile fading as his tone grew solemn. "Archer—no, Atalanta—your wish, the salvation you've entrusted to me, I will see it fulfilled."
"No matter the age—whether children, adults, the poor or the noble—this shall be the salvation of all mankind."
"Yes... I'll leave it to you. Farewell, everyone. To have taken part in this Holy Grail War... was my honor."
Her words fell softly, and Atalanta slowly closed her eyes.
As her radiance faded, Amakusa's voice grew fervent. He struck his chest with his right fist.
"...Then, Father, allow me to serve as the seventh Servant to awaken the Greater Grail."
The burns marring his face began to heal. Lancer of Red—Karna—spoke clearly, his voice strong, the faintest trace of a smile crossing the son of the Sun God's face.
"Lancer, you—?!"
Resting against a chunk of rubble from the fallen Hanging Gardens, Assassin of Red—Semiramis—turned to Karna, astonishment flickering in her eyes.
After the destruction of her Noble Phantasm, The Hanging Gardens of Vanity, Semiramis had been rendered almost powerless once she left its domain.
Originally, she had believed that—whether because of her weakened state or perhaps some unspoken emotion—she would be the one to become the final stepping stone for Amakusa Shirou Tokisada's wish to be realized.
Hearing the confusion in Semiramis' voice, Karna paused briefly before smiling and nodding.
"Father, I can sense your unwavering resolve... As for my wish, it is simply to fulfill my Master's every command."
The hero of charity—one who saw through the vanity of wealth—found no meaning in lies. Karna confirmed that every word Amakusa spoke was true, and that was precisely why he chose to obey him.
With a faint, self-deprecating smile, he added, "But an unworthy man cannot realize his Master's wish. Victory is already beyond hope. Laughable as it may sound now, my final wish... is merely for my Master to survive."
Amakusa stepped into the center of the ruined main hall of the Hanging Gardens. "I understand, Karna. Then, as promised, I will see everything through. Preparations for the Greater Grail transfer ritual—begin."
But just as he crouched to touch the shattered fragments of the spatial transfer array, Amakusa's expression suddenly darkened. "So... Ruler, is it? You truly are relentless."
...
Having traversed the ravaged forest, Ruler—Jeanne d'Arc—entered the ruins of the hall. There, standing at its center, was a white-haired, brown-skinned man.
"Welcome, Ruler—Saint Jeanne d'Arc." Amakusa Shirou Tokisada raised a hand gently, a serene smile curving his lips.
"Yes, that's me. And you must be the Red Faction's Master—Amakusa Shirou Tokisada. Or perhaps I should call you Amakusa Shirou... or Amakusa Tokisada?"
Jeanne's gaze fixed on the young man's amethyst eyes, her tone sharp as she recited the names he had borne throughout his mortal life.
"Now I see it clearly. The mystery behind the irregularities of this Holy Grail War... The former Ruler of the Third Fuyuki Grail War!"
As she advanced toward the center of the ruins, her voice rang with righteous fury. "So that's it. That's why I was summoned in this vessel form, rather than as a proper Servant."
The man called Amakusa Shirou Tokisada was the true mastermind behind this Great Holy Grail War—the reason Jeanne could not manifest as a Servant but only as a pseudo-spirit vessel. (It seemed even the Greater Grail itself feared another Amakusa might arise.)
Jeanne's expression turned frigid, killing intent emanating from her like a storm. She raised her white flag of the fleur-de-lis, pointing it squarely at Amakusa, ready to strike.
"Then tell me this! After miraculously regaining your flesh, why would you participate in another Holy Grail War? What is your true goal, Amakusa Shirou Tokisada?!"
In response, Amakusa spoke with a serene, almost childlike expression—yet his smile carried the weight of experience. "Isn't it obvious? For the salvation of all mankind."
"What?" Jeanne froze, her eyes wide in shock. "Salvation... of mankind?"
"Is there a problem with that, Saint? In fact, your arrival is quite convenient. There's something I'd like to borrow from you—"
The moment Jeanne's combat focus wavered, Amakusa's demeanor shifted. With a flick of his wrist, three Black Keys appeared between his fingers, which he hurled toward her with deadly precision.
"Now!"
Crack!
Reacting instantly to the ambush, Jeanne swung her banner, shattering the blades midair. But the moment of defense cost her the chance to close the distance.
Whirr—!!
A brilliant golden spear—Karna's Vasavi Shakti—sliced through the air with blinding speed, aiming straight for Jeanne's head.
"Lancer of Red—Karna!" Jeanne's brows knitted as she stepped back, bracing herself. With a firm stance, she swung the fleur-de-lis flag upward in a powerful arc.
BOOM!
Energy coursed through her legs, shaking the ground beneath her. Flames erupted on contact, searing the earth and filling the air with sharp crackles.
"You again! We haven't settled our score from the highway!"
Furious, Jeanne endured the burning heat with her EX-ranked Magic Resistance, swinging her banner with divine might—sending Karna hurtling through the air.
Tumbling backward, Karna twisted midair before landing lightly, driving his spear into the ground to steady himself, coughing violently.
"What's happening...? My flames... my speed and strength—they've weakened this much?"
Jeanne frowned as well, perplexed. The son of the Sun God—Karna—was never one to falter. Why was he now so frail?
It wasn't until Jeanne observed him up close that she realized Karna's condition was far worse than she had first thought.
Though the skin on his face had mostly healed, patches of violet-red still marred his complexion. His neck and chest were riddled with gashes, muscles laid bare, and in some places, even bone gleamed beneath the charred surface.
The aura of destruction and corrosion clinging to him instantly reminded Jeanne of a certain silver-haired, red-eyed woman—it could only be Selene's handiwork.
Yet for some reason, a fleeting satisfaction welled up in Jeanne's chest. Serves you right for blowing up my luggage... poetic justice.
"Ah—no, how could I think such a thing? Laeticia, that's wrong. We shouldn't find joy in another's suffering."
"Synchronization, supply, reinforcement!"
As Amakusa poured every ounce of his knowledge from sixty years of life into restoring Karna's power, a grim thought passed through his mind.
As expected—after clashing with Rider of Black, every Servant suffered from that strange, corrosive energy that ravaged both flesh and mana.
Saber Mordred and Archer Atalanta had been cleansed of it, but for Lancer Karna, the poison was like venom to the bone—impossible to purge. Was it because of his Noble Phantasm?
When he had the Hanging Gardens' infinite mana, he could suppress it—but now...
Even Jeanne could repel Karna's attacks with little effort. The purple-red corruption had weakened him that much.
Realizing that the battle was now meaningless—and that Karna's demise was inevitable—Amakusa made his choice without hesitation.
"I command you—with my final Command Spell: strengthen Lancer's every parameter to the utmost limit!"
"Why...?" he murmured, eyes widening in disbelief as the red Command Spell on his arm remained inert. "The Command Spell... why won't it activate?!"
"Saint, your composure seems to be slipping."
Suddenly, from the smoldering ruins of the garden, a cold and imperious voice echoed—emotionless, yet filled with overwhelming authority.
The sound came from everywhere at once, reverberating through the air as though the speaker stood both before him and nowhere at all.
"Who's there!?"
Amakusa's eyes darted around, alarmed—but there was no one in sight.
Only the eerie violet-red radiance seeping from every crack in the ground, glowing like blood through the collapsing ruins of the palace and burning forest.
An ominous dread gripped his heart. In haste, Amakusa prepared a spatial transfer spell.
But he was a heartbeat too late.
From beneath the earth, tendrils of violet-red mana surged forth, ensnaring his body. Numbness spread instantly through every nerve.
"I?" The voice was calm, unshaken. "I've had my fun. This Holy Grail War is over. It's time to deliver the promised reward to the Yggdmillennia clan."
"Rider of Black—Your Divine Majesty, is that you?" Amakusa asked, forcing his tone into composure. "I'd like to discuss... a deal."
"A deal?" The same voice, now laced with a faint, mocking amusement, spoke from behind him. "You dare think yourself worthy to negotiate with me?"
A heartbeat later—Bzzzt—BOOM!
Crash! Splatter!
"Master! Lancer! Watch out!!" Semiramis cried weakly from where she sat slumped against the rubble. Her body was far too drained to move—a single finger wouldn't obey her will.
Then came a thunderous sonic boom. Behind Jeanne, who was locked in combat, the sound of impact erupted as a black-and-white lance struck Karna squarely, pinning him deep into the ground.
Centered on the point of impact, the earth caved inward for over ten meters in radius. Shards of stone blasted outward with a deafening crash, scattering like a storm of blades.
At the same moment, Amakusa felt a strange warmth spread through his chest. His eyes dropped to look—and his expression turned grim.
"So... I've lost completely, have I?"
A slender hand—clad in an elegant, silver-white gauntlet—had pierced straight through his heart. Within that hand, his still-beating heart throbbed faintly.
The armored dress was beautiful, intricate, its filigree patterns gleaming even through the blood that dared not stain it.
"Kh... a god... then? Rider of Black—who are you really? When did you arrive here?"
Blood poured from Amakusa's lips—dark, thick, and filled with fragments of flesh and bone.
"When?"
Withdrawing her hand from his chest, Selene stepped out from behind him, speaking softly as though in idle thought.
"Hm... just now. Thanks to my Master's Command Spell, I teleported here instantly. After all, I do have... some experience with spatial manipulation."